The Press. — London, England, 1858-03-13 00:00:00

an expansion, and a very beautiful expansion, of a well known passage in Ovid. Mr. Kings ley, we willingly admit, has improved on his original ; yet we scarcely think he is justified in adopting so much of the Roman poet's imagery without some kind of acknowledg ment, for although scholars may know where it comes from the public may not. We shall quote one or two passages which resemble one another very closely : Carven in marble I deemed thee, a perfect work of the craftsman. Likeness of Amphitrite, or far-famed Qaeen Cvthereia. Curious I came, till I saw how thy tresses streamed in the sea•wind, Glistening, black as the night, and thy lips moved slow in thy wailing. Quam simul ad duras religatam brachia castes Vidit Abantiades ; nisi qtiod Levis aura eapillos Move•at, et trepido manabant lumina fletu : Martnoreuns rattle esset opus. Loosing his arms from her waist he flew upward, awaiting the sea beast. Onward it came from the southward, u bulky and black as a galley. Ecce velut navis, prreftio concits rostro Sulcat aquas . . . . Sic fere, &c. As when an osprey aloft, dark-eyeorowed, royally crested, Flags on by creek and by cove, and in scorn of the anger of Nereus Ranges, the king of the shore ; it be see on a glittering shallow, Chasing the bass and the mullet, the fin of a wallowing dolphin, Halting, he wheels round slowly, in doubt at the weight of his quarry. Whether to clutch it alive, or to fell on the wretch like a plummet, Stunning with terrible talon the life of the brain in the hindhead : Then rushes up with a scream, and stooping the wrath of his eyebrows Falls from the sky like a star, while the wind rattles hoarse in his pinions. Over him closes the foam for a moment; then from the sand-bed Rolls up the great fish, dead, and his side gleams white in the sunshine. Utque Jovis proves, vacuo quum vidit in arvo Prwbentem Mem liventia terga draconem, Occnpat avers= : nen sieva retorqueat ors, Squamigeris avidos figit cervicibus ungnes Sic celeri fissum prsepes per inane volatu Terga fere pressit. It will be seen that Ovid has no such fine touch as is contained in the last line of the English. But then, on the other hand, his simile is more truthful ; for Mr. Kingsley makes Perseus slay the monster with the Medusa's head, the effect of which could not have resembled the dolphin struck by the osprey—the sight of the Medusa's head causing instantaneous petrifaction. The change of seaweed into coral by the same agency is also very prettily told by Ovid, and might have been introduced with good effect by his English imitator. The versification of " Andromeda " is per fect. It is written in the best English hexa meters with which we are acquainted—strong, melodious, and varied—and such as a lady could read without missing the rhythm. The following lines %will, we are sure, bear out our eulogium : Then on the brows of the maiden • veil bound Pallas Athens; Ample it fell to her feet, deep-fringed, a wonder of weaving. Ages and ages agone it was wrought on the heights of Olympus, Wrought in the gold-strung loom, by the finger of cunning Athena. In it she wove all creatures that teem in the womb of the ocean ; Nereid, siren, and triton, and dolphin, and arrowy fishes Glittering round, many-hued, on the flame-red folds of the mantle. In it she wove, too, a town where grey-haired kings sat in judgment ; Sceptre in hand in the market they sat, doing right by the people • Wise: while above watched Justice, and near far-seeing Apollo. Round it she wore for a fringe all herbs of the earth and the water, Violet, asphodel, ivy, and vine leaves, roses and lilies, Coral and sea•fsn, and tangle, the blooms and the palms of the ocean : Now from Olympus she bore it, a dower to the bride of a hero Over the limbs of the damsel she wrapt it : the maid still trembled, Shading her face with her hands; for the eyes of the goddess were awful. Then, as a pine upon lila when south-west winds blow land ward, Stately she bent to the damsel, and breathed on her : under her breathing THE PRESS, MARCH 13, 1858. Taller and fairer she grew ; and the goddess spoke in her wisdom. "Courage I give thee; the heart of a queen, and the mind of Immortals, Godlike to talk with the gods, and to look on their eyes uushrinking; Fearing the sun and the stars no more, and the blue salt witer; Fearing us only, the lords of Olympus, friends of the heroes • Chastely and wisely to govern thyself and thy house and thy people, Hearing a godlike race to thy spouse, till dying I set thee High for a star in the heavens, a sign and a hope to the seamen, Spreading thy long white arms all night in the heights of the ether, Hard by thy si►e and the hero thy spouse, while near thee thy mother Sits in her ivory chair, as she plaits ambrosial tresses. All night long thou wilt shine ; all day thou wilt feast on Olympus, Happy, the guest of the gods, by thy husband, the god. begotten." Blissful, they turned them to go; brit the fair•tressed Pallas Athene Rose, like a pillar of tall white cloud, toward silver Olympus ; Far above ocean and shore, and the peaks of the isles and the mainland; Where no frost nor storm is, in clear blue windless abysses, High in the home of the summer, the seats of the happy Immortals, Shrouded in keen deep blaze, unapproachable ; there ever youthful Hebe, Harmonic, and the daughter of Jove, Aphrodite, Whirled in the white linked dance with the gold-crowned Hours and the Graces, Hand within hand, while clear piped Phcebe, queen of the , . . . . woodlands. All day long they rejoiced: but Athene still in her chamber Bent herself over her loom, as the stars rang loud to her singing, Chanting of order and right, and of foresight, warden of nations ; Chanting of labour and craft, and of wealth in the port and the garner; Chanting of valour and fame, and the man who can fall with the foremost, Fighting for children and wife, and the field which his father bequeathed him. Sweetly and solemnly sang she, and planned new lessons for mortals : Happy, who hearing obey her, the wise unsullied Atheue. Many if the minor poems have already ap peared in Mr. 'Kingsley's works. In the pre sent collection the reader will be glad to find that exquisite little song " The Sands of Dee." Among others, " The Three Fishers," " The Last Buccanier," " The North-East Wind," " The Dead Church," "My Hunting Song," " The Bad Squire," and " The Outlaw," are particularly good. In the latter, as well as in a poem called " Sappho," we observe a rather too close adaptation of Mr. Tennyson's words in " /Ensile " and ," The Lotus Eater," but it is probably unintentional. History of the Constituent Assembly (1789). By Alphonse de Lamartine. In Four Vols. London : Piper, Stephenson, and Spence. " WHETHER Lamartine will last in the litera " ture of modern history" is a question on which opinion is divided, both in England and on the Continent. The question may be ar gued either way with great plausibil►ty. On the one hand, it cannot be denied that his free and forcible style has great verve and fresh ness, and repeatedly reveals the temperament of genius, even when it does not rise to ori ginality of thought. Nor can Lamartine be refuse.] the honours due to great attainments, singular facility, and a genial appreciation of human character. His exploits in word painting are remarkably brilliant, and his vivid 'description of scenes of thrilling inte rest is effective. But, on the other hand. it cannot be forgotten that there is a tone of rhetorical exaggeration even in his best pas sages, and that in reading his compositions one cannot help recalling Jerome Paturot's witty sarcasm on Lamartine in IS-18, that he " was an /Eolian harp, discoursing its music " to every breeze." Every shade of opinion. every faction of the Revolution, every question of political controversy, are so decked by the ornamental and florid faculty of Lamartine that the realities of the French Revolution are apt to lose some of their weird aspects under his pictorial pen. The French Revo lution was more ghastly and appalling than Lamartine has described it. Several of our readers have, doubtless, seen the brilliant pictures by Horace Vernet at the Elysee Bourbon recording scenes in the life of Louis Philippe. They are fine specimens of the painter's talent, but it is often regretted that their brilliancy of colouring is nit more re lieved and toned down Lamartino is a sort of Horace Vernet in histimic.tl literature. He excels in descriptive effect ; he revels in glow. ing characterisation ; his apostrophes ha ve the stirring power of an orator ; he can dazzle with his brilliancy and he can delight with the variety of his transitions ; but at times his changes are so rapid as to recall the slides of a kaleidoscope rather than the contrasted art of an historical composer. The intensity of Lamartine undoubtedly runs into positive exaggeration, and in this later portion of his historical performance some of the faults of his mannerism are per. ceptible. His " History of the Constituent Assembly" is published last, and it reads with odd effect to be passing backwards through the great events of the Revolution. The work thus opens : Having descended the course of time, even to our own days, in the history of the Girondists and that of the Restoration, I shall now retrace my steps through t h ose years, so full of events and so rapid in their flight, to recount the history of the first French national union, which has been especially designated the Constituent Assembly The mind, however strong its conviction, however firm in itself and ripe in experience, cannot avoid trembling at commencing so perilous a narrative. It must feel the necessity of imploring, from Him who can impart to or withdraw from man the light of inspiration, nut only the pathetic genius of history—which, through the medium of passion, associates the human heart with the scenes traced by the historian—but the gift still more necessary for one who recounts the revolutions of ideas than for any other— the spirit of discernment! It is only by virtue of this spirit of discernment, which is the cool judgment of history, that the writer and the reader, as they contemplate these mighty drain's, can separate enthusiasm from fanaticism—the truth from chi mera—reform from subversion—moderation from excess —virtue from vice—liberty from anarchy; and it is only while making this separation with a just mind, with an up. right heart, and with a rigid hand, that. we can restore the sound principles of the Revolution, and confer a glory, legitimate because it is pure, upon the human mind. To palliate a cause for its errors, or its crimes, is not to sews but to retard it. Appeals to Providence are extremely proper in fit times and cases, but they should be made with becoming seriousness; and there is too much of French " sentimentality" in the foregoing passage. Its tautology of style and its declamatory tone are obvious at a glance. The great merit of this work is its extremely interesting and authentic account of Mira beau. Some of our readers may remember that in the year of the Great Exhibition in Hyde-park a work was published, which at the time attracted no attention, but which in a couple of years afterwards was known in every circle where letters are cultivated. We allude to the " Correspondence of Mirabeau with Count La 111arck," one of the greatest historical revelations of our time. Lainartine has used the materials of that correspondence in this portion of his history, and the result is that his narrative has gained in substance and strength as compared with some of the por tions of his " Girondins." The whole paint ing of Mirabeau's character and conduct is a grand tableau in fresco, and the delineation may be accepted as true, though the vicious parts of Mirabeau's nature are not sufficiently marked to reprehension. A stiking picture is presented in the following description : Mirabean, thus thrown upon his own resources, insntli• cient for his most trifling necessities, sought for the fortune of his name and his means of existence in those mercenary labours which dishonour labour itself. His hireling and indefatigable pen was applied to everything, even to dirt, to pick a little gold therefrom. Sometimes an anonymous pamphleteer, sometimes a salaried publicist, frequently a disavowed subaltern agent of the ministry in foreign countries, and sometimes a hired writer of financial com panies against rival firms, his mercenary eloquence gave him notoriety, bread, fame, and contempt. But this med ley of interests, of ideas, of finances, of politics , of litera ture, and of diplomacy, in the midst of which he laboured, exercised him in controversy, and unwittingly predestined him to the tribune. The bold audacity of a character which had no longer any shame, because he had no longer any consideration to maintain, made him formidable to the most celebrated pamphleteers and the most accredited publicists of the day. He first of all attacked Beaumar chais, and silenced him by an apostrophe worthy of the Philippics. He served and threatened M. de Calonne by turns; he boldly ventured to rend the hearsay popularity of M. Necker in finance, and to profane with his s arcasms the idol of public opinion ; he connected himself in fnend ship, interest, and doctrine, with the English and Genevan writers, the precursors of administrative truths. In p tica he professed principles which ruined tyranny beton.- hand, and doctrines in finance which sapped the fomida dons of monopoly. The ministers reckoned upon him . .1111.111.111111 regretted that nit more re- Ain() is a sort literature. H o revels in glow. mtrophes have ; he can dazzle Might with the a at times his tll the slides of contrasted art le undoubtedly m, and in this al performance inerisin are per. he Constituent nd it reads with :wards through Lion. The work e, even to our own ate and that of the steps through those in their flight, to ich national union, ed the Constituent ction, however firm avoid trembling at It must feel the can impart to or iration, nut only the nigh the medium of ith the scenes traced re necessary for one than for any other— discernment, which the writer and the nighty dramas, can -the truth from chi- mation from excess thy; and it is only it mind, with an up. . we can restore the and confer a glory, human mind. To imes, is not to save :tremely proper they should be ss; and there is 2n tality " in the ogy of style and ous at a glance. is its extremely 2ount of Mira- may remember Exhibition in ed, which at the nut which in a known in every ted. We allude Mirabeau with eatest historical iartine has used oondence in this to result is that substance and me of the per- e whole paint- nd conduct is a the delineation igh the vicious not sufficiently :iking picture is cription :- 1 resources, insntli• 'tight for the fortune in those mercenary His hireling and ything, even to dirt, imes an anonymous sliest, frequently a sinistry in foreign r of financial com• ary eloquence gave ipt. But this rued- politics, of litera- ' which he laboured, ittingly predestined city of a character se he had no longer m formidable to the he most accredited attacked Beaumar• oplie worthy of the M. de Calonne by hearsay popularity with his sarcasms d himself in friend- ighsh and Genevan ye truths. In P Led tyranny beton.- upon hita sapped thefonnda; ekoned