From the Now Monthly Magazine. AHASUERUS, THE EVER-LIVING JEW. FROM THE DANISH OF F, PALUDAN-MULLER. BY MRS. BUSHBY, It is no wonder that the subject of the Wandering Jew should be so much liked by that class of authors who devote themselves to works of the imagination, for it is perhaps the most sublime fiction that the mind of man ever created. In the graceful fables. of antiquity we read of eternal youth being bestowed by the gods on mortals as a precious boon, and in the fantastic legends of fairy lore, as the brightest of magic gifts; but in this solitary tradition, to live on for ages was not accorded as a blessing or a reward, but imposed as a punishment and a curse. Bending under the weight of centuries, not renewing his youth, and revelling over and over again amidst the passions and pleasures of that period of life, the Wandering Jew was doomed to outlive his family, his friends, his race; to see generation after generation sink into the tomb, empires rise and fall, mankind pass from transition to transition, yet ever to remain a lonely wanderer over the face of the earth. This extraordinary legend is supposed to have been first disseminated about the beginning of the fourth century; it may possibly have owed its origin to the gloomy fancy of monkish superstition, but with whomsoever it originated, it was a grand and striking idea. According to the story, as it prevails in the East, the Jew is called Joseph-is said to have become a Christian about the time that St. Paul was baptized-and to reside principally in Armenia. The tradition of the West gives him the name of Ahasuerus; describes him as having been met with in various countries of Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; as speaking the language of every nation he visits, and as never having been seen to laugh. It is said that the celebrated Goethe had intended writing an epic poem on the subject of this wonderful Jew, but he did not accomplish his design. "Le Juif Errant," by Eugène Sue, is well known; and so, to many readers, may also be Ahasverus," by Edgar Quinet; but the Danish dramatic poem of "Ahasverus, den Evige Jöde," has not yet, probably, found its way into England. In Eugène Sue's voluminous work, the my3terious Jew is only occasionally introduced as a spectral apparition might be-now on the snow-laden steppes of Siberia, now amidst the twilight darkness of some thick wood on the brow of some rocky height. This strange being, who, for eighteen hundred years had walked the earth, is yet described by the French author as having ties still existing among the creatures who people it; and these were the descendants of his sister. He makes his Jew exclaim: "Passing through so many generations, by the veins of the poor and of the rich, of the sovereign and of the bandit, of the sage and of the madman, of the coward and of the brave, of the saint and of the atheist, the blood of my sister has been perpetuated even until this hour." He then had some interest in life, some worldly objects to engross his mind; he had traced the descendants of his family through ages, and though his remote kindred knew him not, he watched over them, in as far, at least, as the invisible agency which ever compelled him to move on would admit of his protecting them. The other French author-Edgar Quinetimbues his Ahasuerus with a deep longing for human sympathy, and bestows it upon him also, in the devoted love of a female called Rachel, whose affectionate companionship is a great solace to the pilgrim of ages. But Frederick Paludan-Müller, the Danish writer, with a finer conception of the gloomy grandeur of the character, makes his Ahasuerus to have his thoughts fixed only on the earnest longing for repose, and escape from the weary world, mingled with horror at the remembrance of his own daring crime in ages long gone by, when he insulted his Saviour, and spurned him from his door. He describes him as living without sympathy, without affection for anything beneath the sun; a waif on the ocean of life--a wanderer from ancient times---bearing always about him the principle of vitality, yet longing to close his eyes in death, and envying the myriads whom he had seen descend into the quiet grave; in short, one who had been Too long and deeply wrecked On the lone rock of desolate despair. "Ahasverus, den Evige Jöde," forms a portion of a volume published in Copenhager last year by Frederik Paludan Müller, a writer much admired in Denmark. This volume is modestly entitled "Tre Digte"-"Three Poems." One of these, the Death of Abel," was originally published in a periodical work; the other two are dramas in verse-" Kalanus," which the author calls an historical poem--and "Ahasuerus, the Ever-living Jew," a dramatie poem. It is with the latter that we have at present to do. Paludan-Müller's Wandering Jew is introduced by a Prologue," consisting of a conversation, in blank verse, between the author and "his Muse," which is supposed to have taken place in an apartment at Fredensborg world, While it exists, must wander, and who thus There, Jesus Christ was passing from the Hall, Thou thrustest forth the weary-rest denying Until— when the world ends-I call for thee!" The Muse having thus fixed upon a subject, presents the scene to the poet. It is described as an ancient and deserted churchyard in ruins, situated at the foot of a hill, and close to the sea. Ahasuerus enters, and seating himself on an old tombstone, soliloquises for a time about the misery and wickedness of the world, on the horrors that are being enacted-riot, rapine, and murder apparently let loose-and how small is the band of true believers who are awaiting in faith and prayer the hour of dissolution. He then exclaims, as he casts a searching glance around :- Shak'st thou at length, thou fast-poised world! To thy foundations tremblest thou Comes the last awful earthquake now, While motionless as the cold dead, I can conceive that man will smite Oh hour to others--awful, strange. The ancient man is then addressing a prayer for release from his misery to the Lord of Heaven, whom he had derided and ill-used, when he is interrupted by two men with drawn swords rushing into the funereal asylum. Gold, the cause of so much evil, is the occasion of their quarrel, which ends in one murdering the other. Ahasuerus, of course, reproves him, and tries to awaken him to a proper sense of the crime he has committed, but is scoffed at as the "mad old Jew." The wife and child of the murdered man next enter on the scene; and the all-pervading love of gold is still shown forth in the more vehement lamentations of the newly-made widow for the loss of her husband's money, which had been carried off by his murderer, than of his life. After a long and, in the original, beautiful monologue, in which the aged wanderer complains of his weariness, his loneliness, and his desolation, two young lovers stray into the old churchyard, and the female exclaims in terror: Oh, save me! See-the stars are falling! To which the youth, with a mixture of gallantry and levity, replies: Well-let them fall And let them be extinguished all! But the damsel's terrors are not pacified by his complimentary speeches; and after a time she asks him why he had brought her there Amidst a churchyard's moss-grown stones. vain dreams. It cites the guilty to come forth from their dark concealment, and from the hidden haunts of vice; and commands that the passions, and feelings, and most secret thoughts of all should be made manifest in the clear and blazing light of eternity. It calls on the pale spectral forms of the dead to arise from the grave, and gathering their mouldering or mouldered bones, to stand before the Almighty. It bids the world to pause in its course, the fountain of life to cease to flow, and time to arrest its flight; and it decrees the cessation of every sound except That trumpet's tones Which peal from yonder everlasting zones. This celestial summons is a fine portion of the drama, and is not far inferior to Campbell's celebrated poem, "The Last Man." Our author, however, notwithstanding the Archangel's command, does not permit all sounds to be immediately silenced by the overpowering blast of the fatal trumpet, for a dark shadow is seen to arise from a grave of apparently very ancient date, and it is recognized as Pontius Pilate, his contemporary, the everliving Jew. He tells her that there they would be sure to be alone, that the sleeping dead around could be no tell-tale witnesses of their love, and A conversation, filling eighteen or nineteen that no living being would intrude on them pages, ensues, in the course of which Pilate deamidst these forgotten tombs. Just then, how-mands from his mundane friend the fate of ever, Ahasuerus is discovered; he speaks to them of a better world, and assists them to escape from the churchyard when a crowd of people are heard approaching, headed by "the Antichrist." Who this Antichrist may be is not explicitly defined; but this personage and the Wandering Jew enter into a long theological discussion, which is at length broken in upon by some unearthly sound. The Antichrist, gazing wildly round, exclaims: Whence come these tones? Ahasuerus. Hark! From the skySeek grace in time-ere Time shall die! Antichrist. The trumpet's blast? Ahasuerus. Yes! 'Tis the trumpet's call, That to the judgment-seat doth summon all ! Judæa and of Rome; and is surprised to find that he has been wrapt in the oblivion of death for more than a thousand years. Still more amazed is he to hear of the long life that the shoemaker of Jerusalem had endured, not enjoyed; and he is astounded when informed that Jesus of Nazareth-whom he had condemned to be put to death on the cross-he who had borne the crown of thorns-was indeed the Christ. Pilate hears with intense terror that He is coming to judge the world; and again, as of old, asks, "What is truth? To this the aged Jew--or Christian, as he would be more correctly termed - replies, "Christ is truth!" Ahasuerus then inquires of Pontius Pilate with eager curiosity about death and the grave. Pilate at length vanishes, and presently after a spirit appears, to whom Ahasuerus addresses the same anxious question, "What is death?" And the spirit tells him: It is a sleep which knows no dream- Can e'er exhaust. Yet it is rife The spirit assures Ahasuerus that they shall, The angel choir still sing; but the voices meet in the invisible world, and, disappearing, seem more remote, and become fainter and leaves him much comforted. He then wanders fainter. The old man steps into the grave, on farther among the graves, and comes sud- and chanting a hymn to the Redeemer who denly on one that is open, as it were, ready had mercifully withdrawn the curse from him to receive him. Not appalled by its depth-who had pened the grave for him-and perand gloom, he looks wistfully into it; and af- mitted him at length, through the silent gates ter again praying for pardon, and to be re- of death, to pass to eternal repose-he diesleased from the burden of life, he is about to with these last words on his lips. descend into the grave, when he hears a chorus of angels singing: Close at length thy weary eyes, From earth, the grave, and death set free- The Danish poet has done wisely in not presuming to follow "den Evige Jode" beyond the determination of his fearful mortal career. He has done well in not attempting, like M. Edgar Quinet, to portray the last judg ment, and to put the words of a finite being into the mouth of the Almighty. The most elevated sentiments-the most lofty diction, of which the human mind and human language are capable, would not be equal to this flight of the imagination; and Paludan-Müller does not the less evince the power of his genius by showing his knowledge that in this world it must be-THUS FAR SHALT THOU GO, AND NO FARTHER. BALAKLAVA. What master hand shall set on the right path That noble army, that so stirred our pride So stout, so well equipped, so trim arrayed - That starving army haunts us night and day; But what is She who wears it unto you? Why hauntest thou us, grim spectre ? 'T was not You raise up ministers and pluck them down; we Who brought thee to this miserable end. As flowed thy blood for us, our gold for thee We, without stint, did spend. "All art we had, all industry, all skill, To feed and clothe, and lodge thee, was be stowed." Thus from the blue lips, agonized and shrill, "My blood is on your heads! My blood, not As soldier's blood should be, upon the field. What you will, they must do. "If they put leadership in baby hands, "If Aristocracy's cold shadow fall Across the soldier's path, to you is given "I was the People's soldier. In their name Punch. From the New Monthly Magazine MRS. JAMESON'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK.* t Iplies difference of view in minds differently constituted, or at different stages of progress on the same general route. Mrs. Jameson avers that never, in any one of MRS. JAMESON has long ago secured to herself the many works she has given to the public, has the certainty of a constant, hearty, and respect- she aspired to teach-"being myself," she says, ful welcome. Her presence is ever felt to be re-a learner in all things; " and in sending forth freshing, elevating, bettering. She humanizes and refines the mind-makes us feel the world is too much with us, and allures to a brighter, if not always another. this selection of thoughts, memories, and fancies she professes herself guided by the wishes of others, who deemed it not wholly uninteresting or profitless to trace the path, sometimes deEspecially in this latest work of hers do we vious enough, of an "inquiring spirit, even by the recognize such a spiritualizing influence; it is little pebbles dropped as vestiges by the way-side. rich in words of wisdom, deeply felt, calmly pon- She recognizes one way only of doing good in dered, and often exquisitely expressed; the beau- a book "so supremely egotistical and subjecttiful book of a beautiful writer. Within and ive;" namely, that it may, like conversation with without, in the spirit and in the letter, by the a friend, open up sources of sympathy and revalue of the text and the adornments of letter flection; may excite to argument, agreement or press and illustrative designs, it is such a gift- disagreement; and, like every spontaneous ntbook as may be well called pleasant to the sight, terance of thought out of an earnest mind, which and to be desired to make one wise. hers emphatically is-may suggest far higher and better thoughts to higher and more productive minds. "If I had not the humble hope," she adds, "of such a possible result, instead of sending these memoranda to the printer, I should have them thrown into the fire; for I lack that creative fac ulty which can work up the teachings of heartsorrow and world experience into attractive forms of fiction or of art; and having no intention of leaving any such memorials to be published after my death, they must have gone into the fire as the only alternative left." Commend us to that sire, as of approved taste and feeling, who should select it, before a host of glittering "annuals," as the gift book for his heart's darling; and to that bridegroom, as an intelligent man and a derserving, who should put it into the hands and press it on the interest of his betrothed. The external grace and the inward excellence of the volume remind us of what is said of the "virtuous woman, whose price is far above rubies," in the words of King Lemuel, the creed that his mother taught him; that she maketh herself clothing of silk and purple-which is good; and, that she openeth her Such is her modest apology or explanation, in mouth with wisdom and in her tongue is the publishing what she seems, sensitive in her relaw of kindness-which is far better. Wisdom,spect for her public, to apprehend liable to susand the law of kindness, are eminently, pre-emi- picion, in limine, of book-making, presumptunently characteristic of the ethical and critical ous or careless." For many years she has been writings of Mrs. Jameson. accustomed, we learn, to make a memoranduin Not that this present volume contains nothing, of any thought which may have come across or indeed little, that will be accepted by think-her-if pen and paper were at hand; and to ing people without demur or gainsaying. On mark and remark, any passage in a book which the contrary, it is, in page after page, provoca- may have excited either a sympathetic or antitive of hesitation and question-frequently of pathetic feeling. This collection of notes acvery qualified assent, and sometimes of absolute cumulated insensibly from day to day. dissent. The volumes on Shakspeare's Women, on Mrs. Jameson is a reader of Emerson, and Sacred and Legendary Art, etc., "sprung from the Westminster and Prospective Reviews, and seed thus lightly and casually sown," which the quotes them with zest, and is a gentle free author hardly knew how, grew up and expandthinker on her own account, and quotes her owned into a regular, readable form, with a beginfree thinkings too. Hers is the common-place ning, a middle, and an end. What was she to book of no common-place woman, but of one do, however, with the fragments that remainnaturally and habitually meditative; given to ed-περισσεύματα κλασματων without beginspeculate in her quest of wisdom, addicted to ning, and without end-unte apxmv μnte Tchos guesses at truth, and frank in the expression of xovTa-links of a hidden or a broken chain?the conclusions she has arrived at, or the sug- Unwilling to decide for herself, she resolved to gestive queries which are all she can throw out. abide by advice of friends; and hine illæ delicia; With this cast of mind, and independence of hence this charming "Common-place Book of spirit, it cannot be but that from time to time Thoughts, Memories and Fancies"-by a woshe should produce results too debatable for her man of pure and aspiring thoughts, and tender readers to acquiesce in-indeed, indolent ac- memories, and graceful fancies. quiescence is the last thing she would ask or be grateful for, on the part of those she confers" with; and the very fact of suggestiveness im The thirty pages devoted to what she calls A Revelation of Childhood," will, by many, be considered the most interesting passage in the book. It is a delightsome piece of autobiography, valuable from its psychological character, and the pervading philosophical tone of its brief narrative. It is the seriously indited remonstrance against educational fallacies, abuses and anomalies, of |
