heart and hand, hoping to find in her a fellow-worker in the cause to which he has devoted himself. She, with her artistic nature, while in secret returning his love, considers that he is already wedded to his social theory, and feeling herself not meek enough "To be the handmaid of a lawful spouse," she rejects his offer. One of the underlying ideas embodied in the poem finds expression in the following words addressed by Aurora to Romney, by the poetess to the one-sided philanthropist, who had urged her to relinquish art, and to devote herself, with him, to what he regards as the nobler work of ministering to the poor: “I, too, have my vocation,—work to do ;— and though your world I hold you will not compass your poor ends To work your universal. It takes a soul To move a body; it takes a high-souled man These ideal representatives of philanthropy and art, Romney and Aurora Leigh, pursuing their respective careers with the enthusiasm of devotees, confess at length that their efforts have been failures. Whilst the philanthropist, who, ignoring men's spiritual nature, had limited his efforts to the supply of their material needs, had himself become the victim of those whom he had laboured to befriend; the proud, self-relying woman confesses that, by wronging her own life, she had been a traitor to the cause of art. She thus makes her confession to Romney, whose proffered heart and hand she had rejected: "You were wrong In much? you said so. I was wrong in most. Betrayed the thing I saw, and wronged my own life The artist's instinct in me at the cost Of putting down the woman's,-I forgot No perfect artist is developed here From an imperfect woman. Flower from root, Art is much, but love is more! O art, my art, thou 'rt much, but love is more ! And makes heaven." In "Aurora Leigh," the greatest work of our poetess, we again recognize the voice of the prophet. Since its publication an important step has been taken in the right direction, and could she return to life, she would sympathize with the earnest efforts which are now being made in various directions to bring science, literature, and art, and other refining influences, home to the hearts and minds of the people. She would, moreover, rejoice to recognize that, as in the case of her earlier poem, "The Cry of the Children," her own earnest and impassioned words had been instrumental in bringing about the desired result. In bidding farewell to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, we rejoice to see her take her place in that " strange company" of whom she herself has sung, whose deathless music, sounding from age to age, accelerates the progress of Humanity on its onward march. FRANCE. VICTOR HUGO. 1803-1885. In England, the liberation of poetry from the conventional trammels of the so-called classical school had been, as we have seen, a gradual process, which, commencing about the middle of the eighteenth century, had culminated with Wordsworth and his contemporaries. In Germany, the work of literary emancipation, originating with Lessing, had been consummated by Goethe and Schiller. In France, in spite of the Revolution, which, with its tremendous upheaval, had shattered the social and political fabric, the pseudo-classicalism of the ancien régime, with its artificial diction, its enforcement of the unities, together with its adherence to antiquated forms, had survived the Empire, and after the Restoration still held possession of the stage. In explanation of this remarkable phenomenon, it must be remembered that the great traditions of French literature, reaching back to the era of the "Grand Monarch," had been perpetuated by the Académie Française, a conservative institution, wielding vast influence, and decidedly hostile to literary innovators; while the intermediate literature, embodying the critical and philosophical spirit of the eighteenth century, had adopted the forms inherited from the past. At length, however, this artificial system, to which its adherents clung with passionate tenacity, could no longer hold its ground against the spirit of the age, which, rebelling against the conventional pedantry and scholastic tyranny which threatened to stifle all original genius, found in Victor Hugo one of its most striking impersonations. Recognizing it as his mission to realize in literature. the revolution which, in the political and social spheres, had been acccomplished in the previous century, and adopting as his motto, "à peuple nouveau, art nouveau,” he rallied around him his youthful contemporaries, and with them consummated that return to nature and reality which, originating with Rousseau and carried forward by Chateaubriand and other writers, forms the distinctive characteristic of the Romantic School. 66 It was upon the stage that, under Hugo's leadership, the liberation battle of French literature was to be fought out, and, among his dramas, peculiar interest attaches to "Hernani," the success of which in 1830, secured the ultimate triumph of the Romantic School. Very lofty was Hugo's ideal of the drama, as at once a rostrum and "a philosopher's chair," from which to proclaim the profoundest truths, moral and spiritual. He aimed, moreover, at exhibiting upon the stage some aspects of life and human nature, which, under the ancien régime, had been practically ignored, but which, under the new order of things, could no longer be overlooked. Accordingly, with characteristic fervour, he endeavoured to set forth the diviner elements inherent in the hearts of even the most degraded outcasts, together with the struggle between these higher instincts and the baser tendencies with which they are too frequently associated. It is this struggle which imparts to the character of "Triboulet" in "Le roi s'amuse," and to other of Hugo's dramatic creations, male and female, their deep and tragic interest. Among his dramas the palm is, by some critics, awarded to "Marion de Lorme," while "Ruy Blas," for its admirably constructed plot, its romantic situations, and the novelty and variety of its characters, is by others regarded as his dramatic master-work. The remaining dramas of Hugo, while bearing the indisputable stamp of the author's genius, bear witness also, in a greater or less degree, to the serious blemishes to which even his warmest admirers cannot be altogether blind. These blemishes may possibly be in some measure attributed to his mental attitude, as a revolutionary leader in the new literary movement, and to the tremendous excitement attending its inauguration; exulting in victory, and in his newly acquired freedom, and rejoicing in the exercise of his Titanic strength, he too often bids defiance, not only to the conventional restraints so recently overthrown, but also to the canons of literary taste founded upon truth and nature. Hence a certain recklessness and exaggeration, together with a want of balance and proportion, by which the splendour and beauty of his poems are too often disfigured ;-defects which, though fostered by circumstances, including his lack of adequate mental discipline, consequent upon his desultory education, doubtless had their root in the limitless character of his genius and of his emotional nature, as portrayed by himself in the following striking lines: 66 'Bonté, fureur, c'est là mon flux et mon reflux, Et je ne suis borné d'aucun côte, non plus Quand ma bouche sourit que lorsque ma voix gronde; Je me sens plein d'une âme étoilée et profonde; Mon cœur est sans frontière, et je n'ai pas d'endroit Où finisse l'amour des petits, et le droit Des faibles, et l'appui qu'on doit aux misérables; This picture, drawn from life, reveals also the tenderheartedness of the poet, whose loving sympathy embraced, not only his fellow mortals, but also his humbler fellowcreatures, whose sufferings awakened within him the profoundest pity. In this intense sympathy with sorrow and suffering, essentially characteristic of his genius, he "L'art d'être grand père." 1 |