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Hay 5, I860.] The Leader and Saturday An...
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POEMS BEFORE CONGRESS. BY ELIZABETH. BAJ...
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Hay 5, I860.] The Leader And Saturday An...
Hay 5 , I 860 . ] The Leader and Saturday Analyst . 425
Poems Before Congress. By Elizabeth. Baj...
POEMS BEFORE CONGRESS . BY ELIZABETH . BAJBEETT BBOWNINO . IN the days of the War of Independence , when Germany rang to the clank of the sword and the rhythm of Korner ' s melodies ; when every voice was raised to swell the chorus of execration against Napoleon and Napoleon ' s country , the greatest and wisest of German poets alone was silent . A cry of treachery to his Fatherland was raised against him , and elicited no answer . It was only long years afterwards , when Goethe was sinking into his grave , full of days and full of honours , that he thus explained his silence : — " I never wavered in my love to this dear German land of mine ; but I loved then and love now so truly , all that is great and noble in France ; I feel so deeply that French and German are all members of one family , that I could not join my voice to those who set one heart to write
country against the other . It was not in my patriotic war songs , and therefore I was silent , and bore blame silently . " Writing as we do , at a distance from books and libraries , we know not if we quote correctly the words of this speech , which are to be found in the " Conversations of Eckermann ; " but the sense thereof we remember well . Somewhat after this fashion , we think , would be the justification of ajrue English poet , who has lately sinned in like manner against her country's creed . In this day , when all England is arming against France , when every county and every town is full of volunteer corps and amateur militiamen , when in Parliament , in the pulpit , and in the press , one voice is raised against the greed of France and the designs of another Napoleon , when Poet Laureates write war songs to order , and even Martin Tuppers blow a blast upon their penny trumpets , when every one who utters a word in palliation of the Imperial policy is accused of
want of patriotism—at such a tune , "I cry aloud in my poet passion , Viewing my England o ' er alp and sea ; I loved her more in her ancient fashion—She carries her rifles too thick for me . " So sino-s the authoress of " Aurora Leigh , " and the burden of her son" - throughout is that France is right and England wrong . Ihe Confession is a bold one , and requires a bold spirit for its utterance . The German poet was wiser than the English ^ ne . He knew , in Ins own words , that those wJio ¦¦ .. .. " " . - " Thuricht prenug ihr voiles Herz nicht wahrten J ) em Tobel ihr . Gefiihl , ihr Schauen offenbarten , .
Hat man von je gelcreiizigt und verbrannt , and kept silence in his own heart . Gut of the fulness of her heart Mrs . Browning has spoken * and must answer for her speech . ' * Still , before we condemn utterly the " Poems before Congress , before we write them down in the Index J ? . vpnrgatdrius , in \< l consign their writer to moral flames , let us hear what she has to say . We have few . real poets enough amongst us to abjure at once communion with one who can write even as this little book is written . Stop one moment , reader of ours / volunteer though you be , and mark the wondrous beauty of this passage .. There is nothing in it to offend your patriotic principles ; and having road it , you will judge perhaps more kindly of the authoress : — — liiJufcJL ' taly ^ jnyJEii Uy ^^ . ^ Can it last this gleam—Can she lire and be strong , Or is it another dream Like the rest we have dreamed so long ? And shall it be , must it be , That after the battle-cloud has broken She will die off again Like the rain , Or like a poet ' s song Sung of her—sad at the end , Because her name is Italy—Die and count no friend ? Is it true , may it be spoken , That sho who hns lain so still , With a wound in her breast And a flower in her ' hand , And a gravestone underher . head , While every nation at will Bosiilc her has dared to stand And flout her with pity and scorn , . Saying , ' She is at rest , . She is fair , she is dead , And leaving room in her stead To ud , who are later born : s This is certainly best . ' Saying , alas ! ' she is fair , Very fair , but doad , And bo wo have room for the race . « • • • t Is it true That sho has not moved in a trance , A 8 in Forty-eight , When her eyes wtiro troubled with blood Till » ho knew not friend from foe . Till her hand was caught in a strait Of her oorement , and buttled so JFroro doing the » l .. ed Bhc would — And her weak foot stumbled across The grave of ft king , And dawn 8 ho dn >|> t at heavy losa , And wo gloomily covered her fuce , and siud , ' Wo have dr « anicil'thothinK — Sho is not alive , but doad . "' Suoh words could not bo wiilten savo by one to whom Ituly wns something more living than a name , something dourer than a sentiment . It in ao , wo believe , with Airs . Browning . Though her heart is sound English still , yet Italy hus been for many years the land of her adoption , Having" thus two countries , she fools , wo
fancy , much as a mother might who having two children , one of whom was strong , healthy , and prosperous , while the other was poor ,- sickly , and oppressed , though s he might esteem the elderborn the most , yet in her he , art of hearts could pine and yearn after the wayward and the suffering one . However unpleasing the fact may be to us , there is no use denying the simple truth , that Louis Napoleon has made Italy free . The deed , we ourselves say boldly , was a noble one ; and even if we do not agree in her conclusion , we cannot wonder that one who loves Italy so well would fain believe herself , and lead others to believe , that the doer of the noble deed was himself noble also . This conclusion is what the English public will most object to . To speak the plain , honest truth amongst ourselves we , as a nation , do not care much about Italy . If the French retired to-morrow from their self-imposed task , and the Austrians reconquered Italy , we might and should pi-otest ; but most certainly we should not go to war to hinder them . Things might have gone on for centuries as they went on for the last half-century in Italy , and we should have done nothing except recommend moderation to all parties concerned . We did nothing for Italy ; we never should have done anything ; and we don ' t intend to do anything . Poor Cuffey and the Chartists , if they did nothing else , exploded the old imposture of " moral force , " and deserve some gratitude for their services in this respect . We don't really believe that by our moral support we have done much good to Italy , and we should not care much if we had ; and if the French like the credit they deserve it , as they had the work . This , or something like this , is our English feeling ; and we don't know that it is not a right one after all . What we cannot get over is Louis Napoleon . We have made up our minds so completely about him , we have written him down so confidently as a scamp and an adventurer , that we don't like anybody to assert the contrary . Supposing he is not the man we take him for , we have been wrong all along . The mere hypothesis upsets all our received doctrines about constitutional rights , and middle cluss legislation and general respectability . Coups d ' etat and universal suffrage , and wars for an idea , and regard for facts iii preference to laws , ai-e all equally antipathetic to us . Given that the Emperor - Napoleon is a mere vulgar tyraivfc , something more crafty and far more successful than most of his class , then weavre at liberty to pursue our present policy , without hesitationJto arm against him , to make use of him while * can , to discard him when we can get an opportunity , and tojiold him up always to reprobation . If , however—mind , we only say If—this should- all rest on arfalse conception , to speak of no other consequences , we should feel small , sery small indeed . We should feel much as anold Spartan might if some one had shown him that the Helot whom heJiad been used to see reel drunk beforehim was a being of another and a higher order to himself . For our own part , we know not what to say about Mrs . Browning ' s version of the Napoleonic character . We are of our own generation , and our generation has no great faith in the existence of modern heroes or of modern prophets . When Mormonism nreifc came before the world , we all felt an unalterable conviction that the whole thing was a humbug , not from any intrinsic inconsistencies in the revelation , but from the simple fact that the prophet was ssMnAJi Job Smith . " The thing could not ^ be . There was an inherent impossibility in a new faith . Being revealecTby a MiT-J-oseph Smith , which at once settled the question . Just in the same way , we cannot credit a " heaven-born" ruler turning up in the present degenerate times , more especially when he first hails from the slums of Leicester-square . Still we plead guilty to a lurking qualm as to whether the wider may not be also the wiser view . Indeed , we defy any one , laying but for the time his principles and his prejudices aside , to read through Mrs . Browning ' s poems and not feel something of a like qualm , something also of a suspicion that , after all , there may be a higher creed than that of non-interference , and that even the wrongs of a strange people mny bo' worth fighting for . When we read that : — . " He stood sad before the sun ! ( The peoples felt their fate !) ' The world ia many , I am one : My great deud was too great : God ' s fruit of justice ripens slow : Men ' s souls are narrow ; let them grow . My brothers , we must wait !'" — wo cannot but doubt whether our souls may Hot be narrow also . Wo have spoken first of . the political aspect of the book because vt is the most important one , and the one moat liable to censure ,. Mrs . Browning ' s fame is too well established to require us to say much more than that the poetry is worthy of her past . For us , indeed , it juts a peculiar chnrm . We tire somewhat weary of poems about King Arthur , or other idoal persqnages , and feel as if poetry were a new thin" to us when it sings in living passion of n living time , lucre ia every now and then a carelessness about Mrs . Browning ' s rhymes , Biioh m making " passion" rhyme with " domination , " find wo wish tlmt a poem on America at the end of the collection were omitted in another edition , not from nny intrinsic inferiority to the rest ot the volume , but as marring the unity of the work , lhw , however , is all that , as critics , we could suggest . The book , indeed , is tall of beauties . We , Imvo not space to quote more thiut one out ot many passages , which wo hnvo chosen rather as possessing a peculiar charm tor ourselves , than ns bettor than its fellows : — 41 The Pop ' o on Chriatmaa di > y Sits in St . Peter ' a chair ; But tho peoples murmur nnd say : — ' Our souls are siok and forlorn , And who will show ua where # . la the stable where Cliriat was born /
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), May 5, 1860, page 13, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_05051860/page/13/
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