R360319A. Paracelsus.
The Court Journal, 19 March 1836, pp. 187–188.
New Monthly for March.
Addendum to The Brownings’ Correspondence, vol. 3.
Campbell’s Letters, or rather Pictures from the South, commence the series of attractive papers destined for the present month’s entertainment. We leave those written by old favourites to the magic of a name; but there is one with which we are peculiarly delighted. It is called ‘Evidences of a new genius for Dramatic Poetry,’ and is one of the most beautiful pieces of criticism that we have seen for a long time. Goethe says that admiration is the portal to greatness; and these remarks are written in that fine spirit of appreciation in which poetry alone ought to be judged. The subject is a drama called ‘Paracelsus,’ by Robert Browning. We do not happen to have seen the work itself, but the extracts amply justify the praise. It also furnishes an opportunity for a philosophic, and, we think, true estimate of the character of Paracelsus. As the writer justly observes—the discoverer of the circulation of the blood, of the uses of opium and mercury, deserves to leave a higher repute than that of a charlatan. We must give ourselves the pleasure of quoting the introduction to critical remarks high in conception, and generous in applause:—
“The striking prerogative of genius is its power over adverse circumstances. The most unpropitious fortune [p. 188→] the most desperate calamities, are unavailing against it. Galileo continued to track the motions of the planets upon the walls of his dungeon; the imprisoned Cervantes, the wounded and neglected Camoens, never once despaired; we can still hear Tasso, from the darkness of his cell, cheerily asking his cat to lend him her lustrous eyes, that he may see to write his verses; and we behold Milton in a yet more fatal blindness, with no jot of heart or hope abated. Genius is self-included; nothing outward can affect it; it is no more to be repressed by punishments than to be called into existence by rewards; its origin as well as its protection is itself.”
We add to this one singularly fine remark:—
“In the agitation of the feelings sight is given to the imagination.”
We proceed to one or two brief extracts from the poem itself.
Remembrance of an absent friend:—
Dwell
Only on moments such as these, dear friends.
My heart no truer—but its words and ways
More true to it; as Michal some months hence,
Will say this autumn was a pleasant time
For some few sunny days and overlook
Its bleak wind hankering after pining leaves.
Exquisite image—
Stay, that plant
Shall never wave its tangles lightly, softly
As a queen’s languid and imperial arm
Which scatters crowns among her lovers, but you
Shall be reminded to predict some glad
Success to me.
Magnificent theory—
But then
Truth is within ourselves, it takes no rise
From outward things, whate’er you may believe.
There is an inmost centre in us all,
Where truth abides in fulness, and around
Wall within wall the gross flesh hems it in;
Perfect and true perception which is truth
A baffling and perverting carnal mesh,
Which blinds it and makes error; and to know
Rather consists in opening out a way
Whence the imprisoned splendour may dart forth
Than in effecting entry for the light
Supposed to be without.
We regret that our space will not allow us to do more than congratulate; and that we do, most cordially, both critic and author.
[Letitia Elizabeth Landon]
Reviewed:
Paracelsus (RB), London: Effingham Wilson, 1835.
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