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

THE PRESS, MARCH 13,1858.

The miracles attending the birth of Mahomet are very
favourite topics with modern Moslems. See exempligratid,
the puerile tales from the Maulaid Shar(f, or Ennobled
Natirity, in No. xxaiv. of the Calcutta Review, p. 404 et.
seq. " Amine relates that she heard a fearful noise which
cut her into an agony of terror, but immediately a white
bird came, and laying its wing upon her bosom, restored
her confidence ;—she became thirsty, and anon a cup of
delicious beverage, white as milk, and sweet like honey,
was presented by an unseen hand ;—heavenly voices and
the tread of steps were heard around her, but no person
was seen ; a sheet was let down from heaven, and a voice
proclaimed that the blessed Mohammed was to be screened
from mortal view ;—birds of Paradise, with ruby beaks and
wings of emerald, strutted along regaling her with
heavenly warbling; persons from above scattered aromas
around her, dco.
That note, and many others of a similar
character, would have been absorbed and
assimilated with the text in the workmanship
of a Hume or Gibbon; and a similar fault of
composition runs through this learned per-
formance. The criticism on the date of Ma-
hornet's birth in our first extract should have
been placed in the notes-
The value of " tradition," and the degree of
acceptance to which it is entitled by an his-
torical explorer, is understood by Mr. Muir.
As a specimen of Mr. Mtließ philosophic man-
ner we shall cite the following passage, in
which the author explains the sources of the
traditions on Mahomet

The supposed communication with heavenly messengers,
thus countenanced by Mahomet himself, was implicitly
believed by his followers, and led them even during his
lifetime to regard him with a superstitious awe. On a
suljt-ct so impalpable to sense, so readily apprehended by
imagination, it may be fairly assumed that reason had little
share in controlling the fertile productions of fancy ; that
the conclusions of his susceptible and credulous followers
far exceeded the premises granted by Mahomet; that even
simple facts were construed by their b :cited faith as preg-
nant with marks of supernatural power and unearthly
companionship ; and that, after the object of their veners.
tion had passed from their sight, fond devotion perpetuated
and enhanced the fascinating legends. If the Prophet
gazed into the heavens, or looked wistfully to the right
hand or to the left, it was Gabriel with whom he was
holding mysterious converse. Passing gusts raise a cloud
from the sandy track; the pious believer exults in the
conviction that it is the dust of Gabriel and kis mounted
squadrons scouring the plain, and going before them to
shake the foundations of the doomed fortress. On the
field of Bear, three stormy blasts sweep over the mar•
shelled army ; again, it is Gabriel with a thousand horse
flying to the succour of Mahomet, while Michael and
Serafil each with a like angelic troop wheel to the right
and to the left of the Moslem front. Nay, the very dress
and martial uniform of these helmed angels are detailed
by the earliest and most trustworthy biographers with as
much naiveté as if they had been veritable warriors of
flesh and blood! Stich is a specimen of the vein of legend
and extravagance which pervades even the purest sources
of tradition.

No do•rbt real facts have not seldom been thus adorned
or distorted by the colouring of a superstitious fancy. The
subjective conceptions of the fond believer have been
reflected back upon the biography of the Prophet, and
have encircled even the chjective realities of his life, u
in the pictures of our saints, with a lustrous halo. The
false colouring and fictitious light so intermingle with the
picture, as to place its details beyond the reach of analy-
tical criticism.

Mr. Muir accepts the Koran as an authentic
record of Mahomet's pretended revelations,
and thinks that the edition of Abu Bakr was
a faithful copy of the Koran, and that the text
of (Allman ma:: be taken as a faithful repro-
duction of the edition of Abu Bakr.
Mr. Muir has two manners, one critical, and
the other descriptive and popular. As he is a
new candidate for historical laurels we shall
give a specimen of his more popular style.
The narrative portion commences with a de-
scription of Mecca, a part of which we shall
extract :

Within the great mountain range which skirts the Red
Sea, and about equidistant by the caravan track from
Yemen and the Gulph of Akaba, lies the holy valley. The
traveller from the seashore, after a journey of about fifty
miles. reaches it by an almost imperceptible ascent, chiefly
through sandy plains and defiles hemmed in by low hills
of gneiss ard quartz, which rise in some places to the
height of 41k) or .500 feet. Passing Mecca, and purming
his eastward comae, he proceeds with the same gentle
rise between hills partly composed of granite through the
valley of Mini, and in five or six hours arrives at the
sacred eminence of Arafat. Onwards the mountains
ascend to a great height, till about eighty miles from the
sea the granite peaks of .Jebel Kora crown the range, and
Tiif comes in sight thirty miles farther teat. Between
Jebel Kora and Tiif the country is fertile and lovely.
Rivulets every here and there descend from the hills: the
plains are clothed with verdure, and adorned by large shady
trees. Tiif is famous for its fruits. The grapes are of la
" very large size and delicious flavour." And there is no
want of variety to tempt the appetite ; for peaches and
pomegranates, apples and almonds, figs, apricots and
qulnoes, grow in abundant* and perfection. Far different
is it with the frowning hills and barren valleys for many a
mill around Max.. StitoOd b,ruittwo94 and Nitro]

257

acacias occasionally relieve the eye, and furnish scanty
repast to the hardy camel ; but the general features are
rugged rocks unrelieved by a trace of foliage, with gaudy
and stony glens from which the peasant in vain looks for
the grateful returns of tillage. Even at the present day,
after the riches of Asia have for twelve centuries been
poured into the city, and a regular supply of watPr may be
secured by a conduit from the fresh springs of Arafat,
Mecca can hardly boast a garden or cultivated field, and
only her,- and there a tree. a

- • •
• •
Such is the spot, barren and unpromising though it be
on which the Arabs look with fond and superstitions re-
verence as the cradle of their destiny, anti the arena of the
remote events which gave birth to their faith. Here
Hagar alighted with Ishmael, and paced with troubled
steps the space between the little hill of Safi ( a spar of
Abu Cobeis ), and the eminence of Marwi, an offshoot on
the opposite side of the valley from the lower range of
Keyckitin. Here the Bani Jorhom established themselves
upon the falling fortunes of the ancestors of the Coreish;
and from hence they were expelled by the Beni Khozia,
the new invaders from the south. It was in this pent-up
vale that Cossay nourished his ambitious plans, and in
the neighbouring defiles of Mini asserted them by a
bloody encounter with the Beni Sufi : and here he estab-
lished the Coreish in their supremacy. It was hard by
the Kaaba that his descendants, the children of Abd al Dir
and of Abd Menif, were drawn up in battle array to fight
for the sovereign prerogative. It was here that Hishitn
exhibited his glorious liberality; and on this spot that AM
al Muttalib toiled with his solitary son till he discovered
the ancient well of Zamzain. Thousands of such associa-
tions crowd upon the mind of the weary pilgrim, as the
minarets of the Kaaba rise before his longing eyes ; and
in the long vista of ages reaching even to Adam, his imagi-
nation pictures multitudes of pious devotees in every age
and from all quarters of the globe, flocking to the littla
valley, making their seven circuits of the holy house, kissing
the mysterious stone, and drinking of the sacred water.
Well then may the Arab regard the Pane, and its surround-
ing rocks, with awe and admiration.

On the character of Mahomet we cannot say
that new light of a positive character is
thrown by this work, nor is Mr. Muir
clear in his own view of Mahomet's personal
nature, on which a cloud must always remain.
He seems to think that Mahomet partly de-
ceived himself, and that some of his imposture
was not wilful. We cannot say that the force
and vigour of Mahotnet's mind are entirely
grasped by Mr. Muir as far as he has gone
hitherto, but enough of his peaformance has
been executed to give hope that by its com-
pletion a valuable addition will be given to the
library of Orientalist°.

Andromeda, and Other Poems. By Charles
Kingsley, Rector of Eversley. London :

J. W. Parker and Son.
WHEN a writer who has achieved the highest
distinction in any one department of litera-
ture first comes before the world in a new
character, his judges must he upon their guard
against two opposite temptations. They may
be tempted on the one hand to measure him
by too high a standard of excellence, or on the
other to accept his previous performances as
a guarantee of his present merit, and to
believe that if they fail to appreciate him it
is thcir own fault rather than his. We will,
however, do all we can to divest ourselves of
preconceived opinions, and to return an honest
answer to the question are these poems such
as we should have hailed with enthusiasm
from an unknown author? So long an inter-
val has clap aed since the publication of "The
Saints' Tragedy," and Mr. Kingsley's fame is
founded so exclusively on his prose works,
that we may fairly regard the present volume
as a sort of second first appearance in poetry.
To the genuine poet, poetry is an end. With
Mr. Kingsley it seems to us to be a means—
an ornament of truth rather than one form of
truth. All the poems iu the present volume
which are purely original are conducive to the
inculcation of some moral or political lesson :
and that not in virtue of their being poetry,
but directly, consciously, and superaddition-
ally. Nature herself is one great lesson, but
we learn it unconsciously and passively. True
poetry, which is the reflex of nature, operates
in the same manner. But Mr. Kingsley's
temperament is a singular union of the prac-
tise' and the imaginative. Every moral must
be pointed with a fact. Every fact must be
generalised into a moral. He cannot throw
of the gown. and by the side of his most
beautiful productions hangs the black board,
with the chalk and wand, of the lecturer.
One poem in the volume now before us is
an exception to this rule. "Andromeda,"
however, is i 4 ao wad au Original FOAM" Ji if


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