pressure of worldly affairs and the want of money, than even in the flattering encouragement of Fouquet. When Boileau congratulated him on the success of his tragedies, and the glory he had gained thereby; "Yes," answered Corneille, "I am satiated with glory, and famished for money." In "Nicomede" and "Sertorius," there are passages still worthy of his name, "Othon" contains one speech which will always continue to be quoted, and even "Agesilas" has a scene which could not easily have been written by any one else. The general inferiority of the last-named play, followed by " Attila," written respectively at the ages of sixty and sixty two, drew from the satiric pen of Boileau this cutting epigram, which M. Guizot has inserted in a note. Après l'Agesilas,-Helas! Mais apres l'Attila-Holà." 66 Corneille, unwarned by failure, continued to write up to seventy, to the unavailing regret of his honest admirers, the satisfaction of his enemies, and the detriment of his fame. He reached the almost patriarchal age of seventy-eight, in a state of melancholy despondency, with a total incapacity and aversion to business of every kind, and finally expired on the 1st of October, 1684, having survived the loss of his faculties for nearly a year. Remarkably distinguished in these particulars from Shakspeare, who died suddenly at the comparatively early age of fifty-two, in the full enjoyment of bodily health and intellectual energy, and whose latest productions are ranked among his best. Racine, who succeeded Corneille by the legitimate inheritance of kindred ability, volunteered the office of eulogist, and Voltaire, by a similar right, became the commentator of their illustrious predecessor. If, in some touches of refinement, in a more cultivated style, and minutely delicate strokes of the pencil, they surpassed their model and teacher, let it not be forgotten that the first praise is due to the master who leads, rather than to the scholars, who, through his labours and example, have improved the path to excellence. They derived advantage from his faults while they drew inspiration from his genius, learning at the same time, and from the one source, what to avoid, and how to amend. In the brilliant youth of the disciple, the former achievements of the aged preceptor are frequently and unjustly forgotten. The first hardy pioneer who forces a passage through a mountain, untrod before, has accomplished a feat of greater difficulty than the followers in his train, who have rendered the rugged opening smooth and agreeable. The private character of Corneille appears to have been honest, simple, and generally unassuming, with certain occasional inequalities of temper, from which human nature is never exempt. His actions are to be found in the history of his works. The lives of poets and scholars are usually barren of incident, separated from the bustling scenes of the world, and removed from the arena of dangerous ambition. Cervantes and Camoens form eminent exceptions. Each were gallant warriors, visiting distant lands, and braving wounds and captivity in the course of military service. Calderon, too," had been a soldier in his youth," and Lope de Vega, on the loss of his first wife, sought consolation in the perils of the Armada. Corneille created and embellished heroes with his pen, and makes them dilate loftily on the duties of chivalry and the laws of honour, but he had no fiery spark in his own composition, and held it quite unnecessary to illustrate his theory by personal example. When challenged by Scudéry, out of spleen at his superior popularity, he rejected the appeal to arms with philosophic contempt, and replied to the rhodomontades of his angry rival by a sarcasm. "There is no necessity," said he, "for knowing how much nobler or more valiant you may be than myself, in order to judge how far superior the 'Cid" is to the Amant Liberal " (one of Scudery's worst comedies). Corneille reformed much that was rude and defective in the dramatic taste of his country, but he made no effort to break through the trammels of the unities, within which the French stage has been invariably restricted. He acknowledges them as indispensable, in this short but emphatic sentence in his " Essay upon Dramatic Poetry: "Il faut observer les unités d'action, de lieu, et de jour; personne n'en doute." This rule, so distinctly admitted by Corneille, continued binding on the tender Racine, the fiery Crebillon, and the elegant Voltaire. "La Motte," says Voltaire, "a man of wit and talent, but attached to paradoxes, has written in our time against the doctrine of the unities, but that literary heresy met with no success; had Shakspeare been equally bigoted to scholastic rules, we should have had no Macbeth,' 'Midsummer's Night's Dream,' Tempest, or Lear.' Dennis, in his celebrated criticism on Cato,' which Dr. Johnson gives at full length in his 'Life of Addison,' shows, with unanswerable truth, the absurdity of confining the action of a play to one particular place. Dennis was a snarling, waspish animal, full of crotchets and absurd prejudices, but in this he is right. In 'Cato,' the scene is laid, with scrupulous attention to the unities, in the great hall of Cato's palace at Utica. Here the conspirators meet to lay their plots, and, says Dennis, How could they be such fools as to select the most unfitting place in the world to discuss a matter which involved their heads?' But let no one suppose that this absurdity occurs in Cato' alone. The tragedies of Corneille and Racine afford examples enough that the authors found themselves compelled to violate the laws of probability and common sense, in order to adhere to those of Aristotle. In Cinna,' he and Maximus conspire in the Emperor's cabinet, and there Amelia shouts forth her resolution to assassinate him; and, to make the matter more glaring, Cinna is quite aware of their egregious folly, for he says, Amis, dans ce palais on peut nous écouter; Et nous parlons peut-être avec trop d'imprudence, Corneille and Racine may be distinguished as the Homer and Virgil of France. The former was deficient in tenderness, in dramatic construction, and in the art of moving the passions; but he surpassed in grandeur, in distinct identity of character, and in the power of saying much in a few words. In refinement, in delineating the passion of love truthfully, and in harmony of versification, Racine is unequalled. Corneille injured his fame by writing too much and too long. He suffers more by comparison with himself, than when viewed in conjunction with any other writer. It is almost impossible to believe that the "Cid" and "Pertharite," or "Surena," could proceed from the same source. Critics of his own nation, headed by Voltaire, have condemned more than twenty of his dramas, and confined his claims to superior excellence, to half a dozen. No foreign reader is likely to verify or refute this censure, as either course would entail the necessity of perusing them to an end. We cannot entirely agree with M. Guizot, in the opinion he has adopted from earlier authorities, that the heroes and heroines of Corneille are Greeks and Romans, Indians or Spaniards, according to the age and country in which they are placed. To us they still appear indigenously Parisian, although less palpably one family than those of Racine and Voltaire. The French are fond of comparing Corneille and Shakspeare. We are fully alive to the merits of the great foreign writer, and have no wish to depreciate from national partiality; but we cannot see how the comparison can hold good, except in the one point, that each was a master in his art, and looked upon as a foundation-stone, on which the structure of dramatic excellence has been subsequently erected.* The credit of Corneille rests exclusively on his tragedies, while his comedies are obsolete. That of Shakspeare is so equally poised between the two, that it is difficult to decide from which he has derived the greatest share of his renown. He vibrates from one to the other, like Garrick, when claimed by the contending Muses in Sir Joshua's picture. Corneille confined himself strictly to classic rules. Shakspeare treated them with sovereign disregard. Of Corneille's thirty-two dramas, not more than four or five retain possession of the stage. Of Shakspeare's thirty-six, above three-fourths are in requisition, and seldom fail to prove attractive when adequately represented. The recent success of "King John" at the Princess's Theatre, affords a memorable corroborative instance. The most devoted worshipper of Corneille, if called upon to select a trial specimen of his characteristic excellence, would in all probability pause upon the torrent of reproaches with which Camille overwhelms her brother, thus provoking him to murder, when he returns victorious from the combat with the Curatii in which her lover has been slaughtered. Those who have witnessed Rachel in this agony of passion, will not easily forget the effect she produced, by a most extraordinary union of intellectual intensity, and physical execution, We subjoin the speech entire for the purpose of a distinct parallel. "Rome, l'unique objet de mon ressentiment! Rome, à qui vient ton bras d'immoler mon amant ! Et si ce n'est assez de toute l'Italie, Que l'orient contre-elle a l'occident s'allie ; Voir le dernier Romain à son dernier soupir, Moi seul en etre la cause, et mourir de plaisir." Let us now request our readers to turn to the curse which Lear • The French point to the illustrious name of Pierre Corneille, as affording to the history of their theatre, the mighty landmark which Shakspeare gives to our own. VOL. XXXII. H hurls on his daughter Goneril, and read or recite that tremendous imprecation immediately after the other. Here are two masterly passages from mighty spirits, in the same vein, each illustrating a similar effect of human feeling under circumstances of harrowing excitement. Perhaps it is not necessary to express our individual opinion as to which of the two the palm of superiority should be awarded. "Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! Create her child of spleen; that it may live To have a thankless child !-Away, away! The final division of M. Guizot's work is occupied by very interesting details respecting Chapelain, Rotrou, and Scarron, three contemporaries of Corneille, whose productions are little familiar to the generality of readers. Chapelain devoted twenty years of his life to the composition of twelve cantos of a poem on the Maid of Orleans, which met with so little encouragement, that he never published the conclusion. Rotrou possessed the greatest talent of this triumvirate, but the name of Scarron is better known and remembered, from his having been the first husband of Madame de Maintenon; from his constitutional humour, interminable facetiæ, and excellent digestion, which bade defiance to physical suffering and poverty; and from his "Roman Comique," and "Virgile Travesti," which may still be looked over and laughed at in spite of their incongruous extravagance. On closing the volume, we feel convinced that our ancestors, two hundred years ago, were more easily amused and instructed than are the present generation and that the influence of the "Belles Lettres on society, is rapidly fading before the spread of utilitarian doctrines, and the reiterated discovery of gold diggings. Whether this revolution has improved the social system or increased the happiness of the human family, is a question more easily discussed than decided, and opening too many arguments to be entered on within the limits of a restricted article. ALFRED THE GREAT.* HIGH among the sculptured heroes in the Walhalla at Munich stands English Alfred. The Germans claim him as of their race, and take pride in honouring him accordingly. No such memorial has been raised to him in the island which gave him birth,-which he rescued from savage invaders, and which owes to him her centuries of happiness and glory. And now it is to a German pen that we are indebted for the best biography, for the only good biography that exists of the English King, whom all nations have agreed to designate "Alfred the Great; and whom our ancient chronicles speak of by the still nobler titles of "Alfred the Truth-teller" and "Alfred, England's Darling." A creditable effort has been made, within the last few years, to repair the ungrateful neglect of modern England towards the greatest and the best of her ancient rulers. On the 25th of October, 1849, being the thousandth anniversary of the birth-day of Alfred, there was, at the village of Wantage, in Berkshire, the place of his nativity, a gathering of more than twenty thousand homagers to Alfred's memory. It was then and there resolved to publish a Jubilee edition of the writings of the great Anglo-Saxon King, with notes, illustrations, and an historical memoir, as the most fitting testimonial of the affectionate reverence with which he was regarded by those who were then assembled, and as the most efficient means of awakening the same feelings in others. Two numbers of this Jubilee edition have appeared; and there is good reason to believe that, when completed, it will do honour to its conductors. But a separate biography of Alfred will even then be a desirable volume; and, therefore, Mr. Wright (who, as one of our most eminent Anglo-Saxon scholars is a member of the committee for bringing out the Jubilee edition) has done well in translating Dr. Pauli's work, and placing it within the reach of the English reader. Dr. Pauli tells us in his preface, that he planned and commenced the biography of King Alfred, while he was at Oxford, in the November of the revolutionary year 1848. The work was continued at intervals during the two eventful years that followed. The author's mind was full of anxious reflections on the perilous and troubled state of his German fatherland, and he found consolation in tracing the records of the sufferings and victories of Alfred, and in contemplating the high moral position which he occupies in the organic development of free England. It would indeed be impossible to find in any history, either ancient, modern, or mediæval, a nobler instance of courage sublimed by sense of duty when all hope seemed lost, than the struggle maintained by Alfred in the early part of his reign against the victorious Danes. Dr. Pauli truly states that the country was saved by Alfred alone. "After the Danes, setting out from Gloucester, had extended their inroads further south, after the valiant defenders of Cynwith, of whose fate we unfortunately hear nothing more, had captured the Northern Banner, and while the The Life of Alfred the Great, by Dr. Pauli. |