wretchedness of human destiny. The theology of the poem is thoroughly Calvinistic. The dogmas of that system are elucidated in the dialogue, and its spirit recognized as the essential faith; and it is a very difficult problem to combine the religious doctrine with the human feeling of the poem. Exceptions have been taken at what is called the bold sacrilege of the author in the free use he makes of the name of God. In this respect, as well as in the daring vein of speculation indulged, Festus would have been a rich store-house of illustration for Sergeant Talfourd in his admirable defence of Shelley's works, in the case of the Queen vs. Moxan. He quoted, it will be remembered, Milton and Wordsworth, to show how isolated passages could be wrested from the best authors in proof of impiety, if regard were not had to the intent and the general scope of their writings. But no instance cited equals in point of irreverent familiarity numerous speeches in this drama. We agree with the liberal English critics in deeming the rebukes which this characteristic of the poem has called forth, as unjust, philosophically and poetically considered; while, at the same time, as a simple question of good taste, we doubt both the wisdom and necessity of introducing the Deity as an interlocutor in a drama, however religious in its aim, on the same ground that judicious lovers of the fine arts regret the attempts of the old masters to represent the Almighty in their pictures. We hold that there are some ideas that should only be suggested, never defined, because, from their very nature, the attempt to do more is abortive. Leaving, however, the discussion of this point, let us turn to the real merits of Festus, and glance at its actual claims upon our sympathy and admiration. These, as we have before inti mated, rest not upon any successfully developed theory. or brilliant completeness-not upon the artistic or philosophic beauty of the entire work, but rather upon the force, richness and exquisite significance of individual passages, which appear to have been struck, as it were, from the inner life of the author, and reveal truths of the soul realized in the depths of emotion and thought. These have reference to love and wisdom-to the master passion of humanity and the excursive and penetrating thoughts of genius. Under such aspects how different a thing is life from what custom and mere sensualism make it! Yet to all who feel and think, at some epochs existence presents itself thus fraught with profound meaning and thrilling interest; and it is never, indeed, wholly barren and common-place, except to the pampered or the destitute soul. "Surely it is more To be true man or woman than false god On the strength of this conviction is the genuine, the real, the true, nobly asserted in these pages. It is the same doctrine which inspires Carlyle-warfare upon all sham, cordial recognition of the actual. In fact, the great truth which Festus unfolds to the reader's heart, whatever it may reveal to his understanding, is the beauty, the vitality, the infinite good of earnestness. Attainment, fame, pleasure, opinion and external privileges are scored in comparison to love and truth. Passion itself is justified through its reality. Only the temporary and concentrated, the poor, mean, unsatisfactory shifts and expedients of unconscious and vegetative life, find total condemnation. On this principle reputation is described as an evil : "The kind, the noble and the able cheered him, Hath many a sacred use. The clouds which hide The plea for concentrated feeling and action-in other words, for integrity of soul, is again urged thus: "Obey Thy genius, for a minister it is Unto the throne of Fate. Draw to thy soul And practise precepts which are proven wise. "The bard must have a kind, courageous heart, He must believe the best of everything; Love all below and worship all above.-P. 249. # "Life's more than breath and the quick round of blood; The coward and the small in soul scarce do live. One generous feeling-one great thought-one deed Than if each year might number a thousand days, We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most-feels the noblest-acts the best."-Pp. 80-81 As specimens of affluent description, Festus is, perhaps, best indicated in his vivid, bold and graphic, we would re- remarkable similitudes, ranging from fer to the address to the wind (p. 62), and the character of a poet (p. 254). The peculiar genius of the author of the most homely to the most sublime comparisons. Let us instance a few : "The sons of God, who, in olden days, Did leave their passionless Heaven for earth and woman, And, like a rainbow clasping the sweet earth, Which lives forever through the lives of men, "Friendship hath passed me, like a ship at sea, "She was the sheath wherein his soul had rest, * For as be all bards, he was born of beauty, Miles deep at bottom of the sea, hath all Colors of skies and flowers and gems and plumes.”—P. 261. "The world shall rest and moss itself with peace."-P. 382. * "Yet it is luxury to feel Inflamed-to glow within ourselves, like fire-opals."-P. 358. * # "Words are like sea-shells on the shore, they show Where the mind ends, and not how far it has been."-P. 282. Many extracts might be given, rich life, impressive both in thought and with metaphysical comments on human language, such as this: And pure as virgin's visionary's dream, The true and deep music of Festus cerity; he is willing to immolate self breathes in its love-passages. The on the altar he has chosen. The richwisdom, the glory, the religion which ness and inspiration of the feeling itself, the poet recognises and advocates, bor- the simple consciousness of being enrow their motive and sanction from his dowed with a capacity so divine, is heart. Life and love are to him iden- enough. To see, to minister, to hold tical, or, rather, the former derives all communion, to sound the depths of his its interest and vitality from the latter. impassioned heart; to feel himself upNot as a romantic episode or a fanciful borne on the waves of life by the elasaccident of existence, but as the "food tic sympathy of an absorbing sentiof being," do devotion and tenderness ment,-in its strength to wrestle, in its mingle with the tides of his destiny. beauty to luxuriate, in its deep calm to He glories in the exercise of his affec- worship-this is to him the grace and tions "as a strong man to run a race." the promise of being. We have seldom He dedicates himself to beauty not only encountered more adequate illustrations with enthusiasm, but calmly, reflec- of all the phases of love, or seen it tively, solemnly, as if it were so ordained by God. That the object of his attachment is unattainable, matters little, if the feeling is reciprocated. He is proud to suffer, to give evidence of his sin most nobly justified or truly described, than in various passages scattered through the pages of Festus. A few examples, taken without connection, will evidence this: But why call on God, But that the feelings of the boundless bounds All feeling, as the welkin does the world? Then first we wept, then closed and clung together: Like a live engine booming up and down. P. 51. Helen.-I am so happy when with thee. They tell us virtue lies in self-denial: So that I wrong none else. These arms were given me These limbs to leap, and wander where I will; And every sense, pulse, passion, power, to be She did but look upon him, and his blood As might a formless mass of marble feel, While feature after feature of a god Were being wrought from out of it. She spoke, And his love-wildered and idolatrous soul Clung to the airy music of her words, Like a bird on a bough, high swaying in the wind.-P. 245. |