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And pore upon the realms unvisited, that palette of costly colors, the song That tesselate the unseen, unthought star, of “ The Sibyl to her Lover.” It is, To be the thing that now I feebly drcam

we fear, an example of the poetic Flashing within my faintest, deepest infidelity just spoken of, that here the gleam.

author's fancy was too strong for him, Ah! caverns of my soul! how thick your himself up to the delight of improvis

and after a 'struggle or two, he gave shade, Where flows that life by which I faintlying, or, as we say in music, of fantasysee,

ing on the piano, to see what would Wave your bright torches, for I need your come of it.

Yet it is like a quarry of aid,

gems, and will easily win grace for its Golden-eyed demons of my ancestry! poetic invention. Your son though blinded hath a light We regret, moreover, many inferior within,

blemishes, such as some quite needless A heavenly fire which ye from suns did licenses or negligences of speech and win.

imperfect sentences, some unnecessary

irregularities of metre, and redundant And, lady, in thy hope my life will rise

or defective lines. One of the most Like the air-voyager, till I upbear These heavy curtains of my filmy eyes,

pleasing pieces is the “ Earth-Spirit," Into a lighter, more celestial air ;

from which the following extract, with A mortal's hope shall bear me safely on,

which we conclude our notice of this Till I the higher region shall have won.

rare and delicate volume, may remind

the reader of Herrick (quite unconO Time ! O death! I clasp you in my arms, sciously, we are sure, on the part of For I can soothe an infinite cold sorrow, the author). And gaze contented on your icy charms, And that wild snow-pile, which we call “I have woven shrouds of air to-morrow;

In a loom of hurrying light, Sweep on, O soft, and azure-lidded sky, For the trees which blossoms bear, Earth's waters to your gentle gaze reply. And gilded them with sheets of bright;

I fall upon the grass like love's first kiss, I am not earth-born, though I here delay; I make the golden flies and their fine bliss. Hope's child, I summon infiniter powers, I paint the hedge-rows in the lane, And laugh to see the mild and sunny day And clover white and red the pathways Smile on the shrunk and thin autumnal

bear, hours;

I laugh aloud in sudden gusts of rain, I laugh, for hope hath happy place with To see the ocean lash himself in air; me,

I throw smooth shells and weeds along If my bark sinks, 't is to another sea.”

the beach,

And pour the curling waves far o'er the Meantime, whilst we ascribe the

glassy reach; high merits of truthfulness to this Swing birds' nests in the elms, and shake poetry, we are to say in honesty that

cool moss when the poet fails, it is by departure Along the aged beams, and hide their loss. from it. We think we find in certain The very broad rough stones I gladden too; passages a breaking faith with the Some willing seeds I drop along their reader, a certain want of intellectual

sides, integrity, which clouds and embarrasses Nourish the generous plant with freshen

ing dew, the poem. He begins with one design,

Till there, where all was waste, true and the suggestion of a rhyme or an

joy abides. image divets him from his first pur- The peaks of aged mountains, with my pose, and the piece loses unity of cha

care, racter and impression, however cun Smile in the red of glowing morn elate; ningly the transition and change of I bind the caverns of the sea with hair, argument is covered up.

Glossy, and long, and rich as king's We must not extend our criticism to

estale; the analysis or quotation of particular I polish the green ice, and gleam the wall poems further than we have already With the white frost, and leaf the brown done, though we are much tempted by trees tall,”



The history of the life and death of exhibited by the Lord Admiral's seryDr. Faustus, who sold himself to the ants. Marlowe, whose brief career devil, once gave a tragedy to the Brit- of thirty-one years was in point of ish stage, long amused the nursery, time contemporaneous with Shakspeare, and within the last half-century has is as an author or dramatist his predebeen made, by the genius of the Ger

His is the first great name in man Goethe, to furnish food for reflec- the annals of British dramatic literation to every thinking man of letters. ture. He helped to found the stage, In the following essay to examine the and then sank into obscurity, his light two great dramas which have been being dimmed by the superior lustre of built upon the legend, the writer must his immortal successor. The excelbegin by warning the reader, that lency of Faustus was undoubted, but it Goethe is to him a sealed volume. was forgotten in the surpassing great. Our first acquaintance with his Faustus ness of Hamlet and Macbeth. The was through the French of M. Stapfer legend again resumed its dominion in of Belgium; this, with the English the nursery and around the winter's version of Dr. Anster, we humbly pre- hearth, until the great German poet sume to hope, gives a thorough idea of invested it with a new dignity, and it the original. Every important passage then began to be recollected that an has been subjected to a new translation English poet had formerly handled the by dissatisfied scholars, but we appre same subject. A brief notice of each hend that the differences which exist is the object of the present article. between them are rather characteristic There is not, however, much ground of the peculiar train of thought of the whereon to institute a comparison becorrecting critic, than the detection or tween the two poems. The English correction of serious error. We poem is a tragedy, written for the stage, have, for example, a translation of the and formerly acted. The German has Walpurgis Night, by Shelly, varying very little more of the drama about it considerably from that of Dr. Anster ; than the dialogue, the scenery, and and yet this gentleman does not hesi- what may be called stage directions. tate to say in his preface, that had he The English drama has all the simplinot anticipated the publication of Shel- city of the sixteenth century, the Gerly's poem, he should have hazarded man all the refinement of the nineasking the permission of his relatives teenth. The Faustus of Marlowe is a to reprint the fragments from his poems, man, a mere man; a man in all his rather than venture himself on a trans- strength, and in all his weakness; a lation. Confessing thus candidly our man who claims our sympathy even ignorance of the original, we must pray while he sins, for his sins are natural, the reader to put as much faith in Dr. tangible, and (for it is hard to rid ourAnster as we do ourselves, and shall selves of hereditary superstitions) posnot hereafter apologize for quoting from sible. The hero of Goethe is, we his book.

think, something less than a Of the original legend we must also Profoundly learned, he is yet the slave acknowledge our ignorance. Some- of profound ignorance. I'he Faustus time about 1590,– “ The Tragical of Marlowe knows that sorrow must History of the Life and Death of Dr. follow sin, and justly reproaches no one Faustus,” written by Kit Marlowe, was but himself for his own misery ; that


The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus, written by Ch. Marlowe. 1590.

Faustus, a Dramatic Mystery. Translated from the German of Goethe. By John Anster, LL.D. London. 1835.

† Marlowe was slain in May, 1593, by Francis Archer.

| The royal theatres were not patented until the accession of James I. Before that time the theatres were under the patronage of some powerful nobleman.

of the German, on the contrary, seems Mephostophilis.—Unhappy spirits that live never to consider himself aught but as

with Lucifer, a puppet in the leading-strings of his Conspired against our God with Lucifer, master, and showers unavailing re

And are for ever damned with Lucifer. proaches upon his infernal guide for Faustus.-Where are you damned ? every mishap which common sense

Mephostophilis.-In hell. should teach him to be the inevitable Faustus.—How comes it then that thou result of his own folly. The Faustus Mephostophilis.—Why this is hell, nor am

art out of hell ? of Marlowe is at least blinded by sin,

I out of it. that of Goethe sins by shutting his Think'st thou that I, that saw the face of own eyes. The English poet seems to God, have had a keen sense of the truth of And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, divine revelation, the German to have Am not tormented with ten thousand hells viewed it as an object of cold and In being deprived of everlasting bliss ? wordy criticism,

O Fausius ! leave these frivolous demands, The emptiness of human learning Which strike a terror to my fainting heart.” fills the mind of Marlowe's Faustus with dissatisfaction and disgust. A misunderstanding of a text of Scripture of his vanity, as well as the reasons

In Faustus's reply we have a trait wherein all men are included under sin which urge him to bargain with Lucifer, drives him to despair, and tempts him notwithstanding the terrible truths reto add to his other sins the deeper one vealed by the demon : of magic. We have said that he was blinded by sin. We do not desire to enter into a theological controversy on

« Faustus.- What! is great Mephostothe influence of sin over a man's con

philis so passionate duct. The apprehension of the con- For being deprived of the joys of heaven! sequences of sins already committed, Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude, involves him more deeply :

And scorn those joys thou never shalt

possess. “ Seeing Faustus hath incurred eternal Go, bear these tidings to great Lucifer : death,

Seeing Faustus hath incurred eternal death By desperate thoughts against Jove's By desperate thoughts against Jove's deity, deity.”

Say he surrenders up his soul

So he will spare him four-and-twenty years, This is the motive which impels him. Letting him live in all voluptuousness, As to the rest, he sins with open eyes. Having thee ever to attend on me; The devils lure him with no delusive To give me whatsoever I shall ask ; joys in expectancy. The truth, the To tell me whatsoever I demand; naked truth they are compelled to tell To slay mine enemies and to aid my friends, him, as to their own misery and their And always be obedient to my will." lost happiness.

We give a part of his dialogue with Mephistopheles. *

The good and bad angels of Faustus

enter the lists. The one urges him “Faustus.—Who is this Lucifer, thy lord ? onward, the other admonishes repentMephostophilis.-Arch regent, and com ance and prayer. Even the devil dares mander of all spirits.

not lie. When asked what good the Faustus.-Was not that Lucifer an angel possession of Fautus's soul would do once ?

to Lucifer, the candid answer is, “ SoMephoslophilis.—Yes, Faustus, and most lamen miseris socios habuisse doloris,"

dearly loved of God. Faustus.-How comes it then that he is

a phrase best translated by the vulgar

adage—“Misery loves company. Prince of Devils ? Mephostophilis.-Oh! by aspiring pride Wealth and honors, sensual delights, and insolence,

gain the victory over the better angel For which God thrust him from the face of the unfortunate Doctor, and the comof heaven.

pact with Lucifer is signed, sealed, and Faustus —And what are you that live delivered with all the formalities of a with Lucifer?

regular legal transaction.

* The modern name.

Marlowe calls him Mephostophilis.

Let us now turn to the German Marlowe, as we have already seen, drama. We pass over the prologue, makes Faustus embrace the study of evidently borrowed from the book of magic from despair at the consequences Job. It is difficult to avoid the idea of of sin. The Faustus of Goethe is blasphemy in perusing it, and yet per- introduced to us as a proficient in the haps it would be difficult to produce a black art. At his call, spirits answer sentence or even a line, which would from the “ vasty deep,” and he holds warrant the accusation. The admirers familiar converse with them. He is of Goethe defend him by the example oppressed with a sense of the littleness of the earlier dramatists, who abound of his own nature, the natural limits to in similar scenes. This defence would the acquisition of knowledge drives be conclusive were the poem contem- him to distraction. Life to him is porary with those whose example is clothed in the darkest habiliments. quoted to defend it. The moral senti. The same unhealthy spirit which made ments are progressive; the preacher Childe Harold imagine himself unhapwho should now use the language of py, or rather which prevented him Olivier Maillard, would be deprived of from becoming happy, is our hero's. his pulpit. Yet Maillard was no un- And here we see a marked difference worthy precursor of Luther. But to between the terms of the compact he return from our digression : Mephis- makes with Lucifer, and that entered topheles asks and obtains from God into by the hero of the English dramapermission to tempt his servant Faustus. tist. The latter, undisturbed by the It is impossible not to fall into the track self-inflicted woes of a sickly imaginaof every critic on Faustus, and inquire tion, barters for pleasure.

Viewing what was the grand idea intended to be eternity as lost, he makes an effort to conveyed by the writer. A great critic enjoy time. The former, on the conhimself, the poet is in spite of ourselves trary, defies the power of Lucifer even made to pass through the same ordeal for worldly pleasure : to which he has subjected others. If in Marlowe we find that he has dealt

6 Comfort and quiet!—no, no! none of

these out poetical justice, we care very little about the moral. In Goethe, on the For me;—I ask them not—I seek them

not. contrary, we care little for any sort of poetical justice, but involuntarily ask Lie down and rest, then be the hour in

If ever I upon the bed of sloth what system of philosophy the poet in

which tends to inculcate. We naturally look I so lie down and rest, my last of life. for this in the prologue. Faustus is Canst thou by falsehood or by flattery held forth as a good man. He is the Make me one moment with myselfat peace, servant of Der Herr, and he, at least, Cheat me into tranquillity ? Come, then, in giving permission for the temptation And welcome life's last day-be this our of his servant, announces a sentiment which we cannot avoid believing is to be the moral of the poem, but which

A safe compact this with Lucifer, is singularly and fatally falsified at and one which shows a better knowevery step in the subsequent career of ledge of the consequences of sin than the subject of the experiment :

was possessed by Marlowe's Faustus. As his good angel was continually

urging him to repentance, so the man " From his source divert

who wilfully commits evil will forever And draw this spirit captive down with be attended by the stings of a remorsethee,

ful conscience. Till baffled, and in shame thou dost admit,

But we have anticipated. The A good man, clouded though his senses be By error, is no willing slave to it.

drama is considerably advanced before His consciousness of good, will it desert

we arrive at the compact with MephisThe good man ?-yea, even in his darkest topheles. The opening scene hours

beautiful one, and the poet has added to Still doth he war with darkness, and the its beauties by the introduction of an powers

unexpected jeu de théatre. Faustus is or darkness ;-for the light he cannot see introduced to us on Easter even, reStill round him feels; and if he be not free, flecting painfully on his own condition. Struggles against this strange captivity.” The reputation he enjoys among men,

wager !

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affords him no solace against his own His children and friends consciousness of his inferiority. A Laid their dead master here. deep sentiment of humility would have All wrapt in his grave dress directed him into the path of happiness.

We left him in fearBut he aspires to climb to a higher

Ah, where shall we seek him ?

The Lord is not here ! sphere through the portal of death ; and he madly proposes to inflict death

CHORUS OF ANGELS. upon himself.

The Lord hath arisen ! " Find life where others fear to die;

Sorrow no longer; Take measure of thy strength, and

Temptation hath tried him, burst

But he was the stronger. Burst wide the gate of liberty;

Happy, happy victory! Show by man's acts, man's spirit durst

Love, submission, self-denial Meet God's own eyes, and wax not dim;

Mark’d the strength’ning agony; Stand fearless face to face with Him !”

Mark'd the purifying trial.

The grave is no prison :

The Lord hath arisen. Our limits will not permit us to follow him through the beautiful and Faustus.-Soft sounds that breath of heamelancholy monologues with which

ven! most mild, most powerful, the drama opens; but we must make What seek ye here ? Why will ye come room for the following scene, in which

to me the recollection of his infancy snatches In dusky gloom immers'd ? Oh! rather the fatal goblet from his lips. Pre speak sumption makes him dare to be a sui- To hearts of soft and penetrable mould ! cide, –a beautiful touch of nature re- I hear your message, but I have not faithcalls him to life :

And miracle is Faith's beloved offspring !

I cannot force myself into the spheres -My last draught this on earth I Where those good tidings of great joy are dedicate,

heard ; (And with it be my heart and spirit borne!) And yet, from youth, familiar with the A festal oftpring to the rising morn. (He

sounds, places the goblet to his mouth.)

E'en now they call me back again to life;

Oh! once, in boyhood's time, the love of Bells heard and voices in chorus.


Came down upon me with mysterious kiss, EASTER HYMN.-CHORUS OF ANGELS.

Hallowing the stillness of the sabbathChrist is from the grave arisen !

day ! Joy is His. For him the weary

Then did the voices of those bells, meloEarth hath ceased its thraldom dreary, dious, And the cares that prey on mortals : Mingle with hopes and feelings mystical; He hath burst the grave's stern portals : And prayer was then, indeed, a burning The grave is no prison :

joy! The Lord hath arisen.

Feelings resistless, incommunicable,

Drove me a wanderer through fields and Faustus.-Oh those deep sounds! those woods. voices rich and heavenly!

The tears gushed hot and fast—then was How powerfully they sway the soul, and the birth force

Of a new life and a new birth for me; The cup uplifted from the eager lips ! These bells announced the merry sports Proud bells, and do your peals already ring of youth, To greet the joyous dawn of Easter morn? This music welcomed in the merry spring; And ye, rejoicing choristers, already And now am I once more a little child, Flows forth your solemn song of consola. And old Remembrance, twining round tion !

my heart, That song, which once from angels' lips Forbids this act, and checks my daring resounding

stepsAround the midnight of the grave, was Then sing ye forth—sweet songs that heard

breathe of heaven! The pledge and proof of a new covenant! Tears come, and Earth hath won her

child again." Hymn continue l.-Chorus of women. We lail him for burial

We shall not follow the Doctor 'Mong alce; and myrrh:

through the various scenes offered to

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