take one from the familiar speech of Othello, when about to wreak his vengeance upon Desdemona: "It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul. Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars, "Put out the light, and then put out the light. Should I repent me; but once put out thine, How simple, and yet how striking, is the transition of thoughts; from the extinguishment of the taper, to the extinction of life, the business in hand; and how unworthy are those judges of its beauty, who are quarrelling as to the true position of the comma in the line. Some read it as I have given it, others thus: Others, Others, "Put out the light and then, put out the light." "Put out the light, and then put out the light." "Put out the light, and then put out thy light." It is stated by some of the Biographers of Shakspeare, that, shortly after the performance of this play, at a meeting of one of the clubs, to which he belonged, he found the members, among whom were Burbige and Allen, engaged in a violent dispute, as to the true reading of this passage; each one contending for some one of these various readings. Upon his arrival, as was natural, they stated the points in dispute, and agreed to submit it to him to decide upon his own meaning: 66 Why," said he, with unequalled modesty, "all your readings are very satisfactory, and appear to me to amount to the same sentiment. If the passage does not convey its own meaning, I am afraid I can give you no assistance. At all events one thing is certain: if you differ about the idea conveyed, it must be clear, that it conveys no idea very distinctly. And yet where is the heart that does not throb, or the eye that does not glisten with the fulness of its meaning?" Again, in another passage, speaking of the influence of his jealousy, or his wife's supposed defection, he says: "O, it comes on the memory As does the raven on the infected house, To the heart that does not feel this, explanation would be ridiculous; verbal criticism upon such pas TO BE INSERTED AT ON PAGE 35. Voltaire has attempted translating parts of Shakspeare, with the avowed object of enabling all Europe to compare the thoughts, the style and the judgment of Shakspeare, with the thoughts, style and judgment of Corneille.-And if Voltaire's translation is to be the test of Shakspeare's merit, we might almost yield the superiority to Corneille. To explain this suggestion let me give you one or two instances which are referred to in Montagu's Essay on the Genius of Shakspeare. Brutus in remonstrating against the proposal of Cassius, after having destroyed Cæsar, to kill Mark Antony, speaks thus, "Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs, Having translated this with tolerable accuracy, Voltaire attempts explaining it in the following way. The word course, says he, " perhaps has an allusion to the Lupercal course: It also signifies a service of dishes at table." Thus confounding as you perceive a mode of conduct which the term course implies with a race ground or a banquet, and this is Voltaire the translator, who puts his own foolish cap on the venerable head of Shakspeare, and then laughs at the conceit : Again, When Polonius orders his daughter not to confide in the promises of Hamlet, who being Heir to the Crown, cannot have liberty of choice in marriage, like a private person, he must not, says the old Courtier, "Carve for himself as vulgar persons do;" The French Author translates it, "He must not cut up his own victuals." as if a banquet and not a marriage were the subject of consideration. But to cap the climax of these absurdities, I will give one other of his innumerable blunders, which arose, first, from his not understanding his Author, and secondly, from his not understanding the English Dictionary, to which he referred for explanation and assistance. Brutus thus expresses his fears that Imperial Power may change the conduct and character of Cæsar: 66 Tis a common proof, that lowliness is young ambition's ladder But when he once attains the utmost round, By which he did ascend. So Cæsar may. The translation is not only not true, but directly opposed to the original : And thus it runs. "One knows what ambition is.-The ladder of grandeur presents itself to her. In going up she hides her face from the spectators-When she's at the top she shows herself. Then raising her view to the Heavens, with a scornful look, her vanity disdains the steps of the ladder that made her greatness— that it is that Cæsar may do." One might almost wish that this translation had been in rhyme— upon the principle adopted I think by Sir Walter Raleigh, or Sir Thomas More, who upon a foolish fellow exhibiting to him some of his prose composition, advised him to turn it into poetry, upon which being done, ah! said the Knight, it is better now. Before it possessed neither rhyme nor reason. And that is the precise character of this effort of Voltaire-in his own language, to give the most faithful translation that can be, and the only faithful one in the French Language, of any author ancient or modern. The modesty of this announcement is equalled only by the merit of the performance. It was necessary it is true, if any comparison was to be instituted between Corneille and Shakspeare, that the English Dramatist should be somewhat cut up. But they should carve him as a dish fit for the Gods, not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds. In other words, borrowing from one of the very passages just referred to, in regard to Cæsar. Voltaire should not have cut his head off and then hacked his limbs. Corneille is no more to be compared to Shakspeare than Voltaire is to Bacon, or Fenelon to Jeremy Taylor-or Searson to Voltaire. I could make this manifest, in a moment: but moments are not to be squandered upon Pigmies, when a Giant is in the field. The objection of Voltaire to Shakspeare, although independently of this he never could have appreciated him, is founded upon the disregard of the unities, so rigidly adhered to by the French school, and we are told that this also was the foundation of the critic's preference for Addison's Cato, in which I believe he is solitary. For assuredly no man who is familiar with the English language, can seriously listen to the assertion that Addison even approached Shakspeare. There is more substance, more thought, inore nature in one sentence of Shakspeare, than can be found in any one page of Cato, with the exception of that containing the beautiful soliloquy upon the immortality of the soul. That is a jewel to be sure-but it is set in leadand not in pure gold and surrounded by brilliants which impart their aid to its lustre. If there must be comparisons, they should be between kindred spirits, but they are perfectly idle, to say nothing worse, when attempted in cases of such infinite disparity. |