plies everything. Common sense would extinguish, and only idiots meddle with, this lighted firebrand, courting a purchaser. His admirers, in or out of St. Luke's, may well deem him invaluable; for, in truth,-What

whose society the Abbé manifests conside-ments to the Abbé-neophyte may also be rable predilection, and who figures away gathered from his already quoted address. in vision upon vision:-(We observe by the "Since the Abbé has withdrawn himself bye that a vision is most convenient for re-from Catholicism, he tatally pertains to phipresenting matters in that confusion and losophy, but this fatality, glorious for him, mist which distinguish the Abbé; and we must gain ampler development."―i. e. revhave at least six rivalling even the Prophet olution! of Mecca:)-Satan counsels the kings of We must now sum up our estimate of M. the earth to arm men against their parents La Mennais. With much apparent earnestand brethren. "I will make them two ness but no sincerity; much of display but idols, Honour and Fidelity, and a law little sound learning; dogmatory without which they shall call Passive Obedience." knowledge, declamatory without zeal, and After honour and fidelity are thus disposed copious and fluent without real eloquence or of, together with the obedience of the sub- vital warmth; assuming, insidious, superject, and assigned as the Devil's deed, we ficial, ill.judging, inconsiderate, interested, think the philosopher must indeed be acerb and vain: a mere dreamer in action, and who can blame the Abbé as too rigorously opposed to society simply because unpur insisting on the moral duties. chased by it-the Abbé is neither worth Let no one think the Abbé a common buying over, nor converting, nor answering personage. We point to him fearlessly as a for he misleads, misapprehends, misapsingular phenomenon, and we shall not feel surprised at a few more phases being yet apparent over this lunatic luminary The ultra-Abbé has an Ate still stirring him to further strife, a deluding demon of a philosopher, a Mephistopheles urging on is he worth? our aged Faustus to more mysticism and deeper blasphemy. Madame Dudevant is, indignant with the unfortunate Abbé be. cause his Christianity is not sufficiently Pantheistic; the philosopher, that he has not gone deeper into his mysteries. juste milieu the poor Abbé cannot attain. Again, the lady and the philosopher differ in their definition of the word People. The philosopher excludes the labouring classes from the implication, including the Bourgeoisie within the general term. The lady is for throwing these last entirely out of the question, and the philosopher then contends that the title of the Abbé's book should be altered to the "Livre du Pauvre ou du Proletaire." We are impartial, and must say that the lady, if left to herself, would succeed in doing as much mischief as the other two. She speaks mighty slightingly of the value of philosophy.

The ART. VIII.-1. Waldemar den Store og hans Maend. Et episk Digt. (Waldemar the Great and his Men. An Epic Poem.) By B. S. Ingemann. Kjöbenhavn. 1824.

"You tell us that philosophy is on good terms with herself, and does not much interest herself in mankind, who are not sufficiently philosophical to feel as she does. We wish to know what this modern philosophy is, of which we here suspected the existence, and in the participation of whose benefits we should feel a degree of jealousy."

2.

8vo.

Valdemar Seier. En Historisk Roman. (Waldemar the Victorious. An Historical Novel) By B. S. Ingemann, 3 vols. 8vo. Kjöbenhavn. 1826.

3. Masaniello. Et Sörgespil. (A Tragedy.) By B. S. Ingemann. 8vo. Kjöbenhavn.

4.

Procne. En Samling af Digte. (Progne. A Collection of Poems.). By B. S. Ingemann. 8vo. Kjöbenhavn.

Or the living poets of Denmark, perhaps of Scandinavia, Oehlenschläger enjoys the highest and widest spread European reputation; and for this he is, we apprehend, very much indebted to his mastery of the German language. Other Danish, as also many Swedish poets, are sufficiently admir. ed to have been translated into that kindred The philosopher blames the Abbé for in- and better known tongue; but they have culcating a foi personelle without any defi- been thus rendered more generally accessinitions, and reasonably. The Abbé de ble by inferior writers, since it is seldom mands more of his disciples than Rome or that genius will condescend to translation: Protestantism attempts to exact. They consequently their works are, if not absohave each their formulary, but the Abbé lutely disfigured, yet disadvantageously predoes not excel in definitions. Awful bode.sented to foreigners: whilst Oehlenschläger,

being his own translator, appears to nearly the two monarchs, and superadd a few extraequal advantage in both languages. ordinary incidents, likely enough to have Next to Oehlenschläger ranks Ingemann; happened in those times: unfolding the chalike him a poet, a dramatist, and an histori-racters and single scenes, if not with all the cal novelist; nor are we disposed to admit force to which we have been habituated, yet any great difference between their respec- graphically and with an air of simple truth. tive stations on Parnassus. Much as Oeh- We commence with the poem inasmuch lenschläger is extolled by continental read-as, in Waldemar the Great and his Men, ers and critics, his prose is tedious, and his tragedies are dramatic poems, not plays; but we must nevertheless confess that, in every thing we have seen of his, there is a delightful simplicity and a truth to nature, which always wins irresistibly, without however blinding us to the faults of his effusions as works of art.

not only is the earlier period of time celebrated but some of its principal personages either re-appear or are referred to in the historic novel: and we preface our critique with a notice of the state of Denmark about the middle of the twelfth century. That kingdom was then divided between two sovereigns, King Swend of Zealand, and King But it is not of Oehlenschläger that we are Knud Magnusson (Anglice, Canute the son here to speak; our chief object in naming of Magnus) of Jutland. These potentates him being at once to remind our readers were at war with each other, and at the same that Denmark has, and ever has had, poets, time constantly engaged, Swend particularand to prepare them for the description of ly, in defending the coasts against the pira poet now to be introduced. We do not con- tical hostilities of the heathen Vends.sider Ingemann as an imitator of Oehlen- Prince Magnus, the father of King Knud, schläger: he differs from him in many re- had murdered Duke Knud Lavard of the spects, and in some advantageously; he is Skioldung race, from whence the kings of more spirited and less wearisome: but nev- Denmark were usually, not to say heredita. ertheless a sort of affinity, rather perhaps rily, elected; and the young Duke Waldethan similarity, exists between them. Whe- mar, posthumous son of the murdered Knud, ther this be ascribed to their common na- ranked with all his personal friends and ad. tional idiosyncrasy, or to the effect pro- herents amongst the supporters of King duced upon both by the passion for Scandi- Swend, although the sovereign of Zealand navian antiquities, legends, poems, &c., now was in every respect the worse of the rivals. prevalent in Denmark, we will not at this The poem opens with the arrival in Denmoment take upon us to decide; but proceed mark of Waldemar's friend Axel Hwide, to exhibit the present character of Danish recalled from his studies in more civilized literature, as it appears in those works of lands by the tidings of domestic and foreign Ingemann which we have specified at the war. We give the description of his prohead of this article. gress, adhering in our translation as closely Of these four, the best as also the most as needful to the metre of the original.

In Haraldsted Wood from the hard frozen

ground.

Loud snort three steeds in the wintry blast

While under their hoof-dint the snow crackles fast.

On his neighing charger with shield and
sword,

Is mounted a valiant and lofty lord;
A clerk and a squire his steps attend,
And their course towards Roskild the
travellers bend:

considerable are the first and second;">Tis Epiphany night, and echoes a sound namely, the epic poem, for which the mo dest epithet of narrative would be more appropriate, and the historic novel. Both are sketches from the history of Denmark in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; and as we began each respectively, we fancied that we had a poem and an historic novel of the genuine Scott school. We quickly discovered the error, though it is by no means unlikely that the vivid pictures of past times original from the pen of Sir Walter, may have inspired these sketches. Ingemann's works are different in conception and structure; his Waldemars, the Great and the Victorious, the father and the son, have much more of history, and much less of adventitious story and interest than the tales, in prose or rhyme, of our own mighty master. Nei. ther poem nor novel pretends to hurry us on with a breathless sympathy in the feelings and fate of its personages; but they set before us striking passages in the history of"

VOL. XXI.

10

But distant is Denmark's morning!
Silent the leader of the band
Rides, sorrowing, thro' his native land.
Skjalm Hwide's grandson, bold and true,
No more his studies shall pursue
In foreign university.

Of wit and lore the guerdon high
No longer can he proudly gain;
Needs must be home, the loyal Dane,
For distant is Denmark's morning!
A learned man Sir Axel was thought;

King Knud to his aid summons Saxon
men;

In Roskild King Swend is arming again;
And proudly amidst his Zealand hosts
Of Asbiorn Snare* and Duke Waldemar's

The Chronicler reads the dismally black page, which states that, after much useless bloodshed, Denmark is yet further divided, Waldemar being the actual third king of this small kingdom; and that the three sovereigns have sworn to a treaty of peace, sealing their reconciliation by receiving the eucharist together. The poet then leaves the historian in his cell, and relates, in his own per. son, that King Knud has invited his brother kings to a banquet, in honour of their newborn friendship.

"Waldemar rides with Axel Hwide

From Borrevald in peaceful guise;
Helm, shield, and breast-plate laid oside,
The king on his rivals' oath relies.
But restless gleams old Arnold's eye,
Forebodings darken on his mind,
And to the banquet joylessly

He rides, his fearless lord behind."

King Swend is still loitering behind, but a messenger brings news that he and his followers are approaching in arms.

Knud being engaged in the administration of justice, Waldemar rides out alone to meet Swend; who, seeing him thus unaccompanied, whispers to his confidant, Ditlef, that they must have the two kings together. He meets Waldemar courteously; and when the latter remonstrates against the distrust of Knud, implied by coming armed and guarded, orders his followers to remain behind.

"All fear of treachery has ceased,

Mirth brightens Haraldsborgen round,
Together Denmark's sovereigns feast,
In mead and wine their bickerings drowned.
The highest seat is given to Swend,
For Knud would honour the vanquished
king;

And fair he smiles, that new-made friend,
And bids his host the draught-board bring,
'I'll teach you a game I learn'd abroad.'"

King Knud, having neither draught-board nor tables for play, calls for music; when up starts a strange harper, and begins sing. ing a lampoon, apparently not unknown to the company, upon Swend's flight into Germany. Knud and Waldemar indignantly interrupt him, whilst the insulted king himself affects indifference, and desires the singer may proceed.

"Said Knud, 'A song of our Vikings old,
Were fitter for festal day;
So long as Denmark has warriors bold,
They must love warlike lay.'"
Arnold, the Scald, herewith introduces an
old and boding legend of royal faithlessness,
not worth transferring to our pages.

"Surceased him Arnold from the lay,
And silent was the hall;

Spoke Waldemar, another day
That ballad will we call ;
Too well we know its deed of wrong,
The crime of heathens old-
But here the feast, with drink and song,

In Christian faith we hold.'"

By this time evening has closed, the hall is lighted up, and Swend, rising from table to speak privately with Ditlef, retires to his sleeping-room; while Knud throws his arms about Waldemar, with a burst of melancholy tenderness that astonishes his reconciled hereditary enemy.

"Sudden the hall is dark as night,
Extinguished every torch's light,
And, pierced his heart by traitorous sword,
Knud falls, the banquet's murdered lord.
But Waldemar's glaive is in his hand,
Fierce clashing 'gainst each hostile brand:
Beside him fights bold Axel Hwide,
And few old Arnold's blows abide.
Still through the windows, from without,
New foes pour in, Swend's ruffian rout;
And the dim moonlight in the hall
Shows where on corses corses fall.
His ample cloak forms Waldemar's shield,
His right arm free the sword to wield;
From breast and loins though streams his

blood,

He combats still, in dauntless mood.
Ditlef he smites and leaves a corse:
The bolted door yields to his force;
Forth from that fatal hall he leaps,
Yet round him still his sabre sweeps,
For still with blood each step is bought;
One murderous hand his belt hath caught:
But, at his warriors' cry afar,

From that death-grasp bursts Waldemar."

This may suffice as a specimen of the struggle. The faithless Swend is finally defeated, and slain by peasants in his flight from the battle-field. Waldemar, now king of all Denmark, marries Sophia, the sister of the murdered King Knud; their eldest son, Knud, is born, and acknowledged as his successor: and the poem ends with the canonization of Waldemar's murdered father, Duke Knud Laward, celebrated by Axel Hwide, now Archbishop Absalom.

We turn to Waldemar the Victorious, a younger son of Waldemar the Great, who succeeded to the crown upon the death of his elder brother, Knud. Of this novel we incline to extract the opening, as being somewhat in the style of Scott:

"In a starry autumn night of the year 1204, the light of a peaceful single lamp shone from a small cell window in the southern wing of the Soroe monastery, through the thinned foliage of a linden tree, upon the sea. Within, in the vaulted bishop's-room, as it was called, beside an oaken board fixed to the wall, sat in a black leather arm-chair, a venerable white-bearded old man, with a large parchment volume before him, and encircled

by heaps of manuscript annals and chroni- translation of his delightful lay and legend? cles, copies of old Danish lays, popular le- He would assuredly tear his shaggy beard, gends, runic inscriptions, and other monu- and grumble out, They sounded better in ments of heathendom; which, intermingled their mother tongue. Patience, old friend! with vellum classics, homilies, and missals, If the world is to know Denmark and almost concealed a large, well-annotated, her spirit, I must be their interpreter to foreign open Bible. Amidst the books, and with a minds."" home-made shade of thickly-written, erased, and re-written parchment, stood a copper The old historian's labours are interruptlamp, that threw a strong ray upon the vo-ed by a visit from the Archbishop Andreas, lume, and occasionally, as he stooped, upon accompanied by two priests, the one an anthe old man's head; whilst its general glimmer, though blending with the faint beams of tiquary the other a physician, and a young the rising moon, scantily lit the dark study. boy; and the conversation that follows makes On the walls hung rusty old swords and hal- the reader acquainted with something of the berds, steel caps, armour and bridles, together actual state of Denmark and the writings of with hatchets and sacrificial knives of stone, Saxo and Andreas. The prelate has come, dug out of old barrows. Upon a shelf above however, mainly to commit to Saxo's care the settee lay fragments of funereal urns, and and tuition the orphan son of a friend, a thick massive sculls, amidst other and unusu- ruined nobleman; and this boy, Carl af ally large human bones. Beside the chimney Rice, is, in part at least, the hero; since his stood, below the hour-glass, a full suit of po- love for the daughter of Earl Albert, of lished knightly armour, with spear and battle-axe, which seemed of a fashion not older Nord-Albingien, seems, although the lovers than the eleventh century. are scarcely full-grown till the last volume, to constitute the whole of the fiction; the rest being history.

"The aged antiquary wore over his black clerical garb a white, somewhat ragged, and negligently fastened Cistercian's gown, through the broken armholes of which appeared his black canonical sleeves. He was tall and thin; and, though a peaceable scho. lar, the strong bold features of his finelyformed face, furrowed by age and toil, seemed to indicate him of a noble and warlike race. In his dark deep-set eyes shone a clear far-reaching mind; and as he sat absorbed in his work, one hand under his chin, a small black velvet cap on his tonsured head, and his silvery beard resting on his book, while life slept and stillness was around him, it seemed as though he saw and heard the mighty spirits of the past, and belonged to other times than those in which he sat so indefatigably vigilant and at labour.

"The venerable writer was Saxo Grammaticus. Three years before, as Archbishop Absalom's amanuensis and inseparable friend, he had closed his noble patron's eyes in this monastery, and had since rarely quitted the cell in which he had heard the last memorable words from the archbishop's lips. *** He was now finishing his celebrated History of Denmark.

ry, but briefly give an idea of the book.We cannot attempt an abstract of the stoCarl af Rise becomes page to Earl Albert, Waldemar's nephew, and in his attendance upon him first sees the monarch banquetting with his court; at which banquet his majes ty falls in love with the picture of Princess Margaret of Bohemia. Waldemar forthwith despatches an embassy to Bohemia, to ascertain if the princess is as fair as the painter has made her, and, if so, to ask her hand in marriage: but, before he learns the result, chancing to meet, in the castle of his turbulent vassal, the Duke of Schwerin, the Princess Berengaria, of Portugal, he falls far more passionately in love with her.— Nevertheless, he keeps the engagement concluded for him, proves a kind husband to the lovely Margaret, and thinks no more of his second passion till he becomes a widower, when he marries the Portuguese princess. All this is historical. The gentle Queen Margaret, the idol of the nation, is "He sighed deeply, and, after the manner the Mother of Day, or Aurora; and her sucstill, in popular tradition, called Dagmar, of age, unconsciously uttered his thoughts aloud. Were I but with thee, my pious lord Cessor, Queen Beengjerd, (the Danish form and father!' he said. Two long winters of Berengaria,) was proportionately hated have passed, it is now the third-and the for her pride. Both queens are murdered; moves with difficulty. * * Well, well! Dagmar with mortal weapons, Beengjerd thy servant has nearly fulfilled thy com- with an arrow, through the agency of a nomands, and Denmark's heroes, the eldest ble widow, with whom it seems Waldemar like the latest, shall not want their renown. had intrigued, and who had helped her husNow, but a couple of affectionate lines to our band out of the world in expectation of mar young king and the good Archbishop Andreas. Ay, so must it be?' He was si rying her royal lover. This, with Waldelent, and wrote diligently for an hour; then mar's various wars and crusades against the began again, and complacently read over heathen Sclavonians, some political cabals, some Latin verses. Could old Arnold rise the treacherous seizure of the king by the up from his grave, what would he say to my causelessly jealous Duke of Schwerin, a

pen