rather confirms than shakes my
opinion. I am persuaded
that that drama, good as it is, would have been fifty times
better, had it been framed on a more restricted plan. You, of course,
have read and admired this poem. Now recall to mind those parts which
you probably marked
with your pencil as you proceeded, and which you afterwards read a
second
and a third and a fourth time; bring them together, and you will at
once perceive how little the poem would have lost, how much it would
have gained, if it had been curtailed, or rather constructed on a
simpler plan.
What care we for his Sir Simon Bette and his Guisebert Grutt? And of
what
avail is it to attempt, within the limits of a
drama, and under the trammels
of verse, what can be much better done in the freedom and amplitude
of prose? Under what disadvantages does the historical play appear
after the historical novels of the Author of Waverley! The author of
_Philip van Artevelde_, and _Edwin the Fair_,
seems to shrink from idealizing character, lest he should depart from
historic truth. But historic
truth is not the
sort of truth most essential to the drama. We are pleased when
we meet with it; but its presence will never justify the author for
neglecting the higher resources of his art. Do not think, however,
that in making this observation I intend to impeach the character of
Philip van Artevelde himself. Artevelde I admire without stint, and
without exception. Compare this character with the Wallenstein
of Schiller, and you will see at once its excellen
