The Press.
London, England, 1856-09-13 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

sacredness of individuals, they have in seven hundred
years evolved the principles of freedom. It is the land of
patriots, martyrs, sages, and bards, and if the ocean out of
which it emerged should wash it away, it will be remembered
as an island famous for immortal laws, for the announce-
ments of original right which make the stone tables of
liberty.

We think our readers will agree with us that
this is a volume which contains far more that
is flattering than is offensive to us. We thank
Mr. Emerson for his politeness and good-
nature. At the same time our real opinion of
the work, as a philosophical essay, is not high.
It lacks freshness, and reads like a hash-up
of old notes and observations, rather than like
the lively impressions produced on the mind
but yesterday. It is behind the time, and
bears very little on any of our social or politi-
cal exigencies.

Jaufry the Knight and the Fair Brunissende.
A Tale of the Times of King Arthur.
Translated from the French version of

Mary Lafon by Alfred Elwes. London :

Addey and Co.
IT is surprising that greater pains are not taken
to supply a better and more elegant descrip-
tion of literature for the drawing-room table.
With a few rare exceptions, the showy volumes
which encumber centre-tables are heavy and
gaudy. Sometimes the purely grotesque style
of " toy-books" is interspersed with the me-
chanical tameness and conventional insipidity
of " Picturesque Annals " and " Books of
Beauty." Recollecting the enormous sums
spent by our book-buying community, we
might expect an ingenious display of thought-
fulness and taste in catering for the love of
art now become so popular.
Nor let any cynic say that it would be a
waste of intellect to apply talents to mere
" toy-books." If " toys " are to be bought,
why not have them neat, tasteful, and pretty
to the sight? " Flaxman's chessmen are
great ornaments to any room, however rich in
vertu ; and if books are used, like pictures, for
the sake of "furniture," we may as well have
them handsome as unpleasing. One thing is
certain, that we aro made to pay enough for
our books for the drawing-room. A dozen
showy engravings, a scant letterpress, a pro-
fusely gilt cover (which must fade before six
months), make had value for a guinea. In
a few weeks afterwards one may see the
engravings stuck up in the picture windows,
and marked for value at eightpence each. In
point of fact, we may say that the English are
a public who can better afford to buy such a
class of what we may call " furniture-books "
than other nations, and that is the reason
why we should ask more value for our money.
The volume before us is a superior book to
works of its class. Its letterpress gives an
antique subject to the idle reader (who must
be presupposed in cases of this kind). But
the engravings are the more valuable part of
the work They are designed to illustrate
the volume in a style half serious half whim-
sical, and possess considerable artistic merits.
Some of the aptitude for producing " the
material sublime" in the style of the late
John Martin is shown by Dore's teeming
fancy and facile hand. He excels in drawing
buildings; and his Gothic battlements and
towering pillars have wondrous height, light
ness, and symmetry, but there is a tendency
to Pxaggeration. In the third plate (p. 35),
the illustration to Estout de Vcrfeil is con-
ceived in an overstrained style. Such a mighty
castle would never be built under a rock that
would completely expose Its wardens, even in
the days of the sling and the crossbow. The
castle, and magic work, all in flames (p. 82), is
brilliantly conceived and boldly drawn, though
the engraving is rather cloudy. The ideas of
flame, whirlwind, and desolation are most
vividly presented to the mind. The scene in
the wood (p 109) is cleverly imagined, but the
hag wants weird intensity, and is too like one
of Mr. Maclise's stalwart viragos ; and the
ermine robe is not in character, and re-
minds one of Mme. Tussaud's " sumptuous
effects." Tho scene of Jaufry with Augier's
daughter—the winding path, the steep glen,
the giant's figure near the shattered tower—
is romantic and airy, and highly expressive
of strong colour. The procession of the

SATURDAY,

wedding train (p. 157), and the winding
river meandering through a Champaign coun-
try, is highly poetical, though parts of the
engraving are rather crude.
Turning to the letterpress, we may observe
that it is an advantage in a drawing-room
book to have original matter. In the present
instance, a tale of chivalry, illustrative of the
Provencal literature, is given to the reader.
The preface to the Frenoh version says :

The literary world of France scarce knows the extent of
its own riches. In the catacombs of its libraries and
archives there is a heap of unknown jewels which would
give a new and brighter lustre to its poetic wreath. The
"great age" did not even suspect their existence; the
eighteenth century passed over without bestowing on them
a glance; and if, in our days, a few of our learned brethren
have conceived the idea of drawing them to light, the
rumour of their labours, which moreover were both super-
ficial and incomplete, never got beyond the doors of the
Institute

There still remains, then, more especially as regards the
south, to open up the lode of this mine of gold—a virgin
mine as yet, inasmuch as Sainte-Palaye, Rochegude, Ray.
nouard, and Fauriel have but scraped upon its surface—
and reanimate, in a poetic point of view, the middle ages,
too easily sacrificed at the period of the Renaissance, too
severely proscribed by the University. Fed, in truth, from
our entry into college with the literature of Greece and
Rome, which, however admirable in form, is but sober in
invention, we can have no conception of those works
wherein the imagination of France, youthful, vigorous, and
gay, blossomed in full freshness like a rose in spring.
Some judgment may be formed of the value of the poems
rhymed by the troubadours in the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries by the romance which is now presented to the
public. Dragged from the dust beneath which it has lain
buried for six hundred years, the romance of "Jaufry " is
translated for the first time; and, when we consider the
merit of the story, we may add, without fear of contradic-
ticn, that it deserved such honour long ago.
. .

Let the reader call np in his mind apavilion of Smyrna
or Granada, with columns of white marble light and grace-
ful as those of the Alhambra, with elegant trelliswork,
glass of varied hues, and filled with a pervading tone of
warmth—the warmth of a May sun—and he will have some
notion of the romance of "Jaufry and the Fair Brunis-
sende "—few things being more piquant, more fresh, more
fanciful, or which better reflect the charming caprices of a
southern imagination in the middle ages. Feudal society
revives therein entire, with all its fairy doings, its knightly
fictions, its manners, and its grand lance•thrusts ; and,such
is the interest of the tale, that we allow ourselves to be
carried away by it with as much pleasure as our ancestors
must have felt when it was told to the sounds of the min-
strel's viol in the great castle-hall, or beneath the shadow
of the tent.

There is exaggeration here, and the enthu-
siastic Frenchman is in issimo, like many
French critics, when treating of " romantic "
literature. In England, from the vast resources
of our ballads, we can more coolly estimate
the valne of Provençal literature. The trou-
badours borrowed much from the ancient
bards of Britain, as evidently appears from
their popular tales, and they helped them-
selves latterly from the history of Geoffrey of
Monmouth ; but unquestionably they gave
brilliant costume to the fictions of our remote
forefathers. They commingled their jubilant
strains in praise of King Arthur and the
Knights of the Round Table, and of Charle-
magne and his heroes.
The translator from the French version says
in his preface:—

As answerable for the fashion and material of the cos-
tume, I may be permitted to say a few words concerning
the rule which has guided me in producing it. Keeping
in view that the original romance is a poem in form and
composition, I have endeavoured !n my translation still to
preserve the poetic character ; and, though compelled to
base my work upon a prose version, I have tried within
certain limits rather to restore its original shape than
allow it, by the second ordeal to which it is thus subjected,
to lose it altogether.
The rules of literature, like those of science,
are inexorable. The translator has attempted
a species of composition which is neither
poetry nor prose, and which fatally recall
Macpherson's " Ossian " to a critic's memory.
Thus, the version opens :

'Twos on the day of Pentecost, a feast which to Carlisle
had dawn a host of knights, that Arthur, King of Briton's
isle, his crown placed on his brows, and to the old monastic
church proceeded to hear mass. And with him went a
brilliant train, the Knights of the Round Table. There
were Sir ()swain, Lancelot du Lac, Tristrem, and Ivan
bold, Erie frank of heart, and Que: the seneschal, Percival
and Calogrant, Cliges the worthy, Coadis the handsome
knight, and Caravis short i' the arm ; the whole of his
bright court, indeed, was there, and many more whose
names I have forgot.

When mass was done, they to the palace home returned
'mid laughter and loud noise, the thoughts of each on plea-
sure only bent. Each on arrival gave his humour play.
Some spoke of love, and some of chivalry, and some of
ventures they were going to seek. Quex at this moment
came into the hall, holding a branch of apple in hit, hand.
All made room for him, for there were few who did not

SZPT. 13, 1856.

fear his tongue and the hard words which it was wont to
utter. This baron bold held nothing in respect. E'en of
the best he ever said the worst. But this apart, he was
a brave stout knight, in council sage, a valiant man of war,
and lord of lineage high ; but this, his humour and his
biting words, took from him much that was of right his due.
He, going straightway to the king, thus said :
" Sire, an it please yon, it is time to dine."
" Ques," replied Arthur, in an angry tone, " sure thou
west born bat to awake my wrath, and out of season ever
W discourse. Have not told thee, ay, a thousand times,
nought should induce me to partake of food, when thus my
court had met, till some adventure had turned up, some
knight were vanquished or some maid set free ? Go sit
thee down at bottom of the hall."
EQuez went without a word among that joyous throng,
'Where men of all conditions, knights and lords, minstrels
and mountebanks, ceased not their tricks, their gay di,'
course, their laughter, till the hour of noon. At noon,
King Arthur called Sir Gawain, and thus spoke :
" Fair nephew, cause our chargers to be brought; for
since adventure cometh not to us, we must fain seek it in
the open field; for, should we longer stay, our knights
indeed would have a right to think that it were time to
dine."
" Your will, my lord," Sir Gawain said, " shall be obeyed."
And again, elsewhere, the composition
runs :

The yeoman now prepared himself for fight, and seized
his dart as though in act to strike; but Janfry, fearing for
his horse, awaited not the blow, but gallopped off amain.
As o'er the road he sped, the man let fly the missile with
just aim ; it hit the shield, and that with force so great
red fire and flame forth issued at the stroke, which did not
pierce it through. The sharpened point curled upwards
on the steel, and the wood flew in shivers.
Sir Janfry turned his steed at once and bore down on
his foe, counting full surely that the fight was done ; but
1,, at that instant he had leapt aside, and in the act dis-
charged a second dart, which lighted on his helm; so fierco
the stroke the casgne seemed all on fire; yet it resisted,
though its lord was stunned.
The yeoman, seeing his second blow had failed, was as
a man possessed--so dread his rage as neither to have
hart the knight or broken his bright arms. Janfry, whose
senses had now back returned, thought only of his horse,
which he rode here and there to guard it from the blow of
the third dart. Not this, however, was his foe's intent,
for he still thought to take the beast alive. Like lightning
swift he came, and, whirling round the dart, launched the
fell weapon with these haughty words :
" By Heaven, slave, thou now shalt leave the horse, nor
shall thy hauberk, helm, or shield protect thyself !"

This is a style of rendering which can be
described only as Mcvphersonisell paraphrase.
The English editor should either have given
plain prose, taking care to use a richly-
coloured and antique diction, or else to have
adopted the style employed by Walter Scott
in his poems. In argumentative works it is
possible to blend two styles, but in poetical
composition it is almost impossible.
A preliminary dissertation and some critical
and historical notes would have given addi-
tional value to the letterpress. But, taken as
a whole, we may say that the work is an im-
provement on books of its class, and its illus-
trations are of great beauty, combining toge-
ther much of the quaintness of Kenny
Meadows with the architectural drawing of
Prout's cathedrals. As becomes the subject
of the work, they aro chevaleresquo and
fanciful.

Dred : a Tale of the Great Dismal Swamp. By
Harriet Beecher Stowe. London : Samp-
son Low and Co.
(Second Notice.)

A REPERUSAL of " Dred " has done much to
strengthen our opinion that it is not the work
of a single pen. It displays such different
qualities of mind as are rarely found in one
person, and abounds, often to tediousness,
with passages of rhetoric which seem to us
quite foreign to tho vivacious temperament of
Mrs. Stowe. Sometimes the transition of style
is abrupt, and we change at once from the slat-
ternly causerie of American drawing-rooms to
the sonorous eloquence of the professor's chair ;
but at other times different styles run into
each other, and are so blended that it is
difficult to follow their respective veins, or to
believe that in the process of composition
they could have been so completely fused.
Generally, the desorip tion of characters seems
to be by ono hand, and the conversations—
save when they take a didactic tone—by an-
other ; and it is remarkable that the person-
ages—except indeed the nigger servants, all
admirably drawn and sustained—seldom come
up to the characters assigned them, either in
their dialogue or action. The account
given of leading personages of the story is
usually very elaborate, and marked by touches