The Press. — London, England, 1856-03-29 00:00:00

r -- ' MARCH 29, 1856. -- of the text may yet lead to further consider able improvement in it. From all past expe rience we are warranted in concluding that one mind alone can effect little towards this end. But if a number of the admirers of Shakespeare could be brought to contribute their observations, and throw them into a common stock, we think it likely that, under sagacious superintendence, a much more satis factory text might be formed than at present exists. At all events, recent discoveries have been so numerous as to call for a new variorum edition. ()riselda. A Tragedy. And Other Poems. By Edwin Arnold London : Bogue. THE last story of Boccacio, relating the trials of the patient Griselda, is the purest and most toucbing of his " Hundred Tales." We must all agree in the conclusion that the Marquis was "cruelly severe," and that the trials of his lady ware "intolerable ;" but as the story relates to a period when, in spite of all the fine professions of chivalry, ladies were often the mere sport of their stern lords, and the slaves of their caprice, we can understand that such things might have happened as Dioneus relates, and can appreciate the worth of that virtue which was woman's only resource under the calami ties they had to endure—Patience. Our stun dard of female excellence is different now from that which prevailed early in the four teenth century. An admirable female writer of our day has said that " resignation is weak ness, until the capacity of resistance has been exhausted ; it then becomes fortitude." But five hundred years ago patience in woman seems to have been esteemed a virtue in all conditions of life, and under every imaginable provocation. Mr. Arnold, in his " tragedy," hair closely adhered to the tale in the " Decameron," and as all our readers may not bear it in their memory, we give an outline of it, following Mr. Arnold's version. Walter, Marquis of Saluzzo, a beneficent and popular ruler, is petitioned by his people to take a wife He had previously fallen in lova with a poor country girl, the daughter of Janicola, villager, and their request is consequently in no other way disagreeable to him than from fear that they may not approve his choice. Accordingly, us the condition of complying with their wishes, he exacts from them an oath that they will honour aid obey whom soever he may present to them as their queen. He then conducts them to the abode of Jani cola, and introduces theni to his daughter, whom he forthwith demands is marriage, and bears off to his palace amid great pomp and rejoicing. Griselda had leanied to love him waen he visited her father's cottage in dis guise ; and on their wedding-day she vows that her love shall ever be leal and true, Whatever chance or change in life betided. In due time Griselda bears him two children. a girl and a boy. In the novel, the Marquis de termines to put his wife's fidelity to the severest test from mere wantonness, but in this poem the Marquis receives a letter from his sister, tell ing him that all Italy is wondering at his marriage, and that he is at all events bound to subject the character and fidelity of his low born bride to sonic adequate test. The Mar quis then gives orders for conveying away his children from their mother, leading her to believe that she will never see them again save in heaven, and alleging as a reason for his cruelty the discontent of his people at the low origin of their mother. She is permitted to languish in secret sorrow for twelve years. At the end of that time, her husband, thinking a further trial necessary, pretends to divorce her, and sends her borne to her father. She is shortly after, by way of a crowning insult, recalled to the palace to make preparations for the new queen, a youthful princess of thirteen, years of age. The marriage proves a fiction of the Marquis, as the princess is Griselda's daughter, whom, together with her brother, he had chosen to restore in this singular manner, Grisdda's troubles are now oVer, and she is rewarded for her unswerv ing constancy by the recovery of her former rank, an d a permanent hold upon her Will ba P e ra! , Steeln and affection. THE PRESS. We cannot think this story well calculated for dramatic effect All attempts to soften the character of the Marquis only make him in reality more hateful, as his long-continued cruelty appears the result of mere wantonness. We can partly excuse the excesses of passion, and they are always available for dramatic purposes ' • but what kind of sympathy can we have with the hard and heartless nature which places love and virtue on the rack only to ascertain the amount of suffering they can be made to sustain ? We do not understand the sense in which Mr. Arnold calls his poem a " tragedy." Of the two passions which tragedy is required to develop, terror and pity, the former is wholly wanting, while the latter is strained to a most undue pitch. There is no catastrophe, and the discovery comes so late that its effect is destroyed. We think Mr. Arnold would have done better had he taken greater liberties with his story. The natural result of such trials as Griselda was exposed to would be her death, and the repentance of her husband. A happy ending, after her twelve years of suffering, is a moral anachro nism which modern intelligence will scarcely pardon.. But this defective construction was neces sary to bring out the one quality for which Griselda has been celebrated for the five hun dred years that her story has been popular. Mr. Arnold has delineated her exquisite humi lity under her trials with the taste and feeling of a true poet. She seems resigned to suffer ing, not through meanness of spirit, but through a depth of tenderness and love which no trials can exhaust. Her husband is her Providence on earth, and she resigns herself to his will with a confidence in his wisdom and rectitude which no temptations can shake. The faith due to heaven she divides with him ; and it is this aspect of her character which will fascinate all readers, touch all hearts, and invest the character of Griselda henceforth with higher poetic interest and beauty than it derived from the novel. It will easily be understood that as passion is excluded from the drama, the verse must be distinguished mainly by sentiment and pathos. In the following extracts excellent thoughts are expressed in most graceful and poetic lan guage : VIRTUE OF NO CONDITION. MARQUIS. It were to be indeed a king, if kings Had more of greatness than a meaner man. But all for us! the world's nobility Is not named noble for its nobleness. Virtue is as the universal sky That kisseth all alike the hills and dales; And ye shall meet her, oh ! as easily In huts where Poverty and Sorrow wait To bar her path, as in the halls of kings, Where gilded doorways gape to take her in; Ever she makes her house in noble hearth, Careless of clime or creed, like birds that build Under mosque•roof or Christian basilic Their nests for loves and lives But birth and blood, What are these to her, when, alas! my lords, Not the nice palate of the graveyard worm Knows the cast shell of vassal from a king's. Ye smile, sirs,—sooth, fur all your smiles and mine, It may be, that in God's great book of life The blood a peasant poureth for his lord, Is writ more precious than the stream that warms The heart he died to keep at even beating. NATURE GRISELDA. Oh, sing a simple song, for I have thought, Listening to many a modern line and lay Of minstrelsy excelling, that their strings Strove for too great an utterance, and so missed The ready road that quiet music finds Right to the heart ; like as an 3'erstrained bow Shoots past the butt.. Dame Nature dotl► not thus, And minstrels are her children, and should stand Close at their mother's knee to learn of her. Look ! when she will be beau►iful or great, She strains not for her rainbows or her stars, But with deft finger works her wonders in With an unruffled quiet, a soul-felt And unregardful strength—so that her storms, Her calms, night, day, moon-risings and sunsets, Wood songs and river-songs, and waves and winds, Come without noise of coming. Ah ! I love, When 'tis voiced tenderly, a simple song. — A song whereto the caught ear listens close, To hear a heart, and not a chord speak out Musical truthfulness. These passages are Shakesperian in spirit, and are tinctured with the manner and music of the master. The next extract is front the scene in which Griselda's daughter is re• moved. It is an example of the pathos of the GRISELDA. I fear I read A bitter meaning in your broken speech : But I'll not think so—you are not to take her ; Your hands are hard with arquebuss and sword, Used to the clench of iron. You are fierce, And soldierlike, and stern ; your gentleness Would crush this little life. What canst thou do With her whose bed has been of silks and down— Whose food were delicates—whose rosy beauty Nought harder than a kiss hath ever touched It is not true—tell me it is not true ! MAItTINO. So true, that I shall take what yon refuse me, If you refuse it longer than my leave. GIUSELDA. Keep uff ! I bad forgotten ! it is true! Stand there, sir ; yuu shall have her—take her—so. (Gives the child.) MAItTINO. "Pis well ! thou (lost this wisely ; and I go. Pardon the needful pain. GRIBELDA. Oh ! stay, good sergeant. ( Sweet angels make me strong !) Thou askest pardon Thou shalt have thanks ; render me back my child. MARTINO. Nay, madam ! GRISELDA. But a minute—she is thine. Hath he not so commanded ? Ah ! dear love, Lie back a breathing space upon this breast— Thy home no more !—thy home and life no more ! My little sleeping girl —my silent daughter ! ^ To-night thou diest for the fault of me, Thine o'er-fond mother. Therefore, pretty one ! Aye, smile on so—even as thy father smiled, And I shall get the heart to say the word— Therefore, farewell—farewell ! and let me take Thine earthly sorrows off with this last kiss : Thy soul, my little child, is His to have Who died upon the cross, whereof in token 1 sign thee with the sign. Take ! here again, Good sergeant, your young maid. In the minor poems Mr. Arnold appears to great advantage. The installation ad dress to Lord Derby is, in our opinion, the best of them. Mr. Arnold writes the herbic metre with more grace and strength combined than any poet of the present day. His lines have the swing and resonance of " majestic Dryden," and we are inclined to think that in the revival of that noble measure he may, perhaps, discover his true vocation. The ma jority of these poems have alr.mdy appeared in various periodicals. "Vernier,' published in Blackwood's Magazine, is truly poetical, though dashed with resemblance to Tenny son ; "Dreamland," from Fraser, has great imaginative charm, but too ideal for the taste of the day ; and the lines on " The Sea," which appeared in Bentley, are uncommonly spirited and striking. Most of the " Songs for the Time" have appeared in THE PRESS and, without at all wishing to applaud contri butions to our columns, we must express our honest opinion that the piece entitled " The Tiger" is by far the finest lyric of modern day. We pity the taste, too, which cannot appreciate the beauty of the verses, " The Vigil," and " In Memoriam." Sermons, Doctrinal and Practical. By the Rev. William Archer Butler, M.A., late Professor of Moral Philosophy in the Uni versity of Dublin. Edited from the Author's MSS by James Amiraux Jeremie, D.D. Cambridge : Macmillan and Co. THE author, now no more, of these sermons was an Irish clergyman of rare intellectual endowments. Since his decease, about seven years ago, his reputation as a divine has gradually been rising, and the " United Church " of Great Britain and Ireland " has in late years produced few more remarkable natures than Archer Butler. Though his friends and admirers might have desired for him a longer career, he lived long enough to gain a lasting name. Nothing but sterling merit could gain the posthumous fame which has been accorded to Mr. Butler. The merits of these sermons, and of all Mr. Butler's writings, lie in their union of subtle thinking, poetical illustration, and pure senti ment. We know of but few recent religious teachers so endowed with a high spirituality. His faith intensely apprehended " the things unseen." In detached passages there is un common eloquence of a scholarly character, and every sermon bears witness to his aspiring conceptions of Christianity. We are glad to see that they have been edited under the auspices of the Regius Professor at Cambridge After disclaiming responsibility for the putt A