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882 T HE LEAD EB, [No. 838, Satttbday,
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THE SKETCHER. The Sketcher.By the Rev- J...
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THE RELIGIOUS WARS OF FRANCE. Gfwerresde...
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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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Emerson On Englastd. English Traits. % R...
in iie presence of God , that when they are called upon to accept a living , perhaps , of 40602 . a year at that very instant they are moved by the Holy Ghost to accept the office and administration thereof , and fox no other reason whatever ? " The modes of initiation are more damaging than custom-house oaths . The bishop is elected by the dean and prebends ot the cathedral . The Queen sends these gentlemen a congf d ' e ~ U re , ¦ or leave to elect ; bat also sends them the name of the person whom they are to elect . They go into the cathedral , chant and pray , and beseech the Holy Ghost to assist ihem in their choice ; and , after these iirvocations , invariably find that the dictates of ihe Holy Ghost agree with the recommendations of the Queen . The following is worthy of Sydney Smith : — The Church at this moment is much to be pitied . She has nothing left but possession . If a bishop meets an . intelligent gentleman , and reads fatal interrogations in his eyes , he has no resource hut to . take wine with Mm . False position introduces cant , perjury , simony , and ever a lower class of mind and character into the cleigy : and , when the hierarchy is afraid of science and education , afraid of piety , afraid of tradition , and afraid of theology , there is nothing left but to quit a Church , which is no longer one .
882 T He Lead Eb, [No. 838, Satttbday,
882 T HE LEAD EB , [ No . 838 , Satttbday ,
The Sketcher. The Sketcher.By The Rev- J...
THE SKETCHER . The Sketcher . By the Rev- John Eagles . Blackwool and Sons . Axthotjgh the Sketcher appeared as a series of papers in Blackwood s Magajsine , and may therefore be presumed to have some element of popularity in it , we suspect that only a peculiar public will appreciate it : a public interested in landscape and . elegant literature , which is a inucb smaller jmblic than it pretends to be . Mr . Eagles was a man of elegant culture , an . artist , and something of a poet ; but he was a mild writer , correct rather than fascinating , judicious rather than impressive . We found his book one which -could be laid down without any regret , and left unread without much impatience ; yet while reading it we felt as if a mild and pleasant gentleman were discoursing to us on subjects agreeable and suggestive , to which we listened with admiration , but from which our attention was easily withdrawn . ¦ The part of the book which pleased us most is that wliich he has devoted to Poussin , probably because we share to a great extent his admiration of that painter :-
—Who ever better understood the placid stream , the deep tarn , or mountain river , in its life and motion , from the first gushing , through all its course and rests ? So his ^ figures are all disengaged and free—are beings of leisure . They are of robest growth , natural vigour of limb and understanding , of a race sprung from the very woods and jocks , untamed and untamable to slave toil ; no artificial elegance—the very reverse ¦ of the smirking , piping , cocked hat , and flowered shepherds of French crockery ( how the artist must have detested , them !) but all of the simple elegance of pastoral freedom and leisure , a part -with , and influenced by the whole scenery—not as if they commanded it , or could command it , or / would twist aside the streams , or cut a twig in ^ 11 tleir land . Even the peculiarity of undress is entirely appropriate . It makes them of the pastoral age , and such as never can belong to any other . Like their fraternal trees , they are mot ashamed to show their rind . They live in no dressed . paradise ; all that is of the formal cast , as belonging to another beauty , that poetical painter rejects . All his pictures are , th « refore , ' ajust whole . Though he saw the beauty ,
-as one who could be insensible *• it , of the solemn cypress and pine , he would not -overawe the simple youth and freedom of his foliage by their forbidding dictatorial -cast . And it is remarkable that all his trees are in , or rather under than past , their vigorous growth . They are of youth and freshness , like the fabled indwelling wood-Uymph and Faun that never grow old . Scarce any have attained the girt of timber 4 » invite the axe , that the most avaricious eye shall never calculate their top and lop . They have the life of pastoral poetry in themselves , and are therefore eternal in un-• dying . youth arid vigour . And to make this his natural ideal perfect , nothing is introduced to disturb this serene life , unless , indeed , he paints & storm , and then , who « ver toased his foliage about like him , as if he were familiar with the winds , and knew -all their ways , and played with and limited their power ?—for you still see that there is but an occasional irruption of violence that will pass , to uproot and tear away perhaps some discordant objects , and that gentle Peace had but retired to the shelter of the shepherds' homes , and would again soon walk forth in uninjured beauty . But in the whole landscape , no too rugged form , and no awful sublimity , is introduced , to mar , aa it may be termed , the natural ideal . Accessibility is a striking character in
• all his compositions . There is not a height or a depth unapproachable ; and this accessibility is marked throughout , or carefully indicated , by path , or road , or building , or figure . The whole terrene is fox the inhabitants , and the inhabitants for the terrene , and all are free " to wander where they -will . " The accesibility ie perfect , and it is of a home character , for all the lines tend into the scene , none out . The paths ¦ entice you -within , where you may eat of the lotus , and never dream of departure . Very ingenious also is his analysis of Poussin ' s method of composition . But the Sketcher by no means confines himself to pictures ; he breaks out occasionally into verse ^ which , to confess the truth , we skipped after the first specimen ) and varies his themes by criticisms of the poets . Altogether the Sketcher is a composite affair , better suited , to the pages of ft Magazine than to the demands made by a book . At page 70 , Mr . Eagles oppofes the now universally admitted opinion that 4 hc ancients cared little for landscape , and those who have read Mr . Ruskin ' s eloquent and convincing 1 pages on this subject will be curious perhaps to sec what can be said on the other side :
It has been said that the ancients had no great notion or admiration of landscape ; —aa a painter ' s art , perhaps not ; hut Horace was not tli « only one who thought ¦ " flumina amera aylvasque inglorius . " It is true , they give you no very elaborate descriptions ; and I doubt whether any elaborated descriptions , not excepting our Mrs . Radcliffe'a ever give them quite successfull y . But they often paint in a word , and awaken to the eye more than meets the ear . There ia a vast range for the sketcher over Homer ' s ovpea aKtoevra— " the shadowing mountain , and resounding sen , " are a boundary within which are noble and exquisite pictures . The Odyasejj is delightful totao landscape painter . And who will be bold enough to try hia hand at the £ & r & ens of Alcinous ? Then , what ma # njficeut lion-hunts and marine pieces , with t » e steam-vessels that know all ports , and went self-directed , " covered with vapour ana aoua 1 ^ Ulysses throwing the magic safety-girdle behind him into the sea , and a thousand other admirable subjects . -nJ ^ v ! " * ' •* " $ ° tiM » g while pretending to settle the matter . It is not omy Decauae , the awaeate " givo you no very elaborate descriptions" but because . they eadubit * o feelTng for landscape , that critics jnauitain their ¦ nferwnfcy m this * oa |« ct . . && . they admired landscape as much as Mrs . ttadchffe , they would lum > described it as elaborately . As to their
paintingin a word more than meets the ear , that entirely depends upon the eye which sees it . Mr . Eagles chooses Homer ' s ovpea cnciaevra as a specimen ; and says it offers " a vast range for the sketcher . " Truly , but the sketcher must bring his own landscape 1 If " shadowy mountains'" is suggestive to the sk « tcher , it can only be because his mind is already full of pictures Homer paints none . Let us consider for a moment the passage in which Homer employs the phrase , which because it happens to occur in a sounding line has become memorable ^ and to us moderns seems pictorial . Achilles is * com plaining of his treatment , regrets having left his own country to come and * fight against the Trojans , who never did him any larm , never drove his cattle off his meadows , for the excellent reason that ; the Trojans were separated from him by " shadowy mountains , and a roaring sea . " Achilles is not intending to be poetical ; he states a prosaic fact ; the more shadowy or wooded the mountains , the greater the obstacle they presented . If we in reading Homer , forget the obstacle , and think only of the picturesque mountains , we must nut credit Homer with our sensibilities , and suppose he meant what we interpret . While touching on Homer , we may quote what the Sketcher says about Cowper's translation of a passage : —
Pictor . Hising smoke is always delightful—it is associated yith home ; and m would place a home wherever we see beauty . We say to ourselves— - " Here would I live ; " and in this place the proprietor and architect have but embodied the mind ' s sketch and desire . It i 3 the picture ever present to the mind ' s eye of Ulysses . "When heart-sick in despair of not seeing it , he would die . "Ulysses—happy , might he but behold The smoke ascending froin . his native land—Death covets . " . " - Sketcher . You quote from Cowper—he has lost the feeling and the picture of the passage . Homer does not say happy -would he be , as if it were the reflection of the author , but that Ulysses , ardently longing to see the smoke , & c , desires death . It is tlie feeling of Ulysses that Homer intended to show . Then the picture—" the smoke ascending , " is feeble in motion . In Homer the smoke itself would be seen to rise , and with a life and animation springs up , leaps vp from his native land —» ca ; n / oj / aarodpaoKovra . Ovid is as feeble ia his imitation—¦ ¦ " ¦ . ¦ ¦ ' . ;¦ . . ¦¦"¦• ' ¦' - ¦¦' ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ .. . : . "¦¦ ¦' ¦ : . ¦ " Optat ¦ - ¦ ¦ ¦ . " ¦ ' ¦ ' . ¦ ' ; . ' .
3 ? umum de patnis posse videre focis . To see the smoke is imperfect , the Greek alone is complete . "When Ulysses first discovers the abode of Circe , it is likewise by the smoke ; but Homer does not on that occasion use the same sentient -word , it was rising , and indeed gTacefully waring , aia-crovTa , hut not leaping up to be seen—there is not that life and desire in it tliat Homer engenders . He wished that the very smoke of laome should have a sentient life , and spring up to welcome the master of the hearth . And why may not this be Circe ' s habitation ? -the passage illustrates the position as well as the incident . Ulysses had ascended a rock , and hence saw tlie smoke arising . It is an abode fit for an enchantxess—beautiful , well built , and the scene appropriate to magic arts in the depths—a place deep in . among the-windings of such a valley as this—ev jS ^ o-OTjat , and in just such a clear spot , thus surrounded , as if words of magic power had bade the woods tecede , and make a place for the magician ' s dwelling , it is rrepio-Keirra ) evt
^< op < a " in a look-round place , "—recollect it is in the midst of the depths , so that if you had not that word nepio-iceiTTa , the position would Tie well marked ; yet in spite of this does Cowper , who , like other prospect lovers , thought perhaps there must be a distinct view , ventured to mistranslate the passage thus : — "We went Through yonder oaks ! embosom'd in a vale , But built conspicuous on a swelling knoll , With polish'd rock , we found a stately dome . " _ Not a word about a *' swelling knoll" in the original ; but Cowper thought there could not be any looking about or around without it , and gives that meaning to n-epia-KeTTTO ) . He adopts Clarke's translation , " Conspicuo in loco , " a " nd by way of adding something of Ms own to match it , hits upon the " swelling knoll . " It is too suburban .
The Religious Wars Of France. Gfwerresde...
THE RELIGIOUS WARS OF FRANCE . Gfwerresde Religion , By J . Michelet . Paris : Ghanwot So many histories of St . Bartholomew lave been written that a new history has become essential . M . Michelet ' s , the newest , and one of the best , ought not to _ close the series . It is a richly-illustrated essay , a critical argument flashing with light and colour , rapid and searching , yet more suggestive than satisfactory . "When the historian ceases , when lie has presented , with capitular inscriptions , twenty-six tragic or romantic tableaux , crowded with sixteenth-century life , bold , and abundantly artistic , it is felt that the narrative is imperfect , episodical , abrupt . Some of the connecting links have been lost ; events and men Lave been too dramatically grouped to allow the entire imposing procession to move across the stage . But M , Michelet has broken up a mass of ecclesiastical chronicling that had long passed for history , in and out of France . In his volumes on the Renaissance , the Reformation , and tlie Religious Wars of the seventeenth century , there is a broad debatable ground , for . as a writer he ia too personal , too
authoritative , too much addicted to surprise and paradox , not to draw on many an attack ; but this may be said , —that he obliterates a multitude of chimerical traditions that once held possession of the Church and the Academy- Were it not that civil history is so perversely separated from religious history , he might even dethrone some of the doctors of the critical Sorbonne j but it must be a keen knife , in a good light , which will pierce through that integument . However , M . Michelet writes for those who will read , and it ia possible that the students of De Capcfigue and I > e Falloux—now known to fame as the Pcre Loriquet of our generation—may receive a purer inspiration from writers who believe neither in the virtues of Catherine do Medicis , nor in the vices of De Coligny , in the terrors of the Reformation , nor in the beneficence of St . Bartholomew . In relation to those topics , a number of loose errors are afloat , such as thoso which M . Eugene Despoix has so effectively characterised . These not being tho days , he says , when Freret would bo committed to the Bastille for insinuating that the Franks were not descended from Francus , grandson of Hector , it is permissible to write historical truth . 3 t . Despoix . knows , of course , as well as wo , that historical
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 13, 1856, page 18, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_13091856/page/18/
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