Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 70, No. 433, November 1851 - Various

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fallen upon the course; a thousand others

      Have had their fortunes foundered by a chance,

      Whilst lighter barks pushed past them; to whom add

      A smaller tally, of the singular few

      Who, gifted with predominating powers,

      Bear yet a temperate will, and keep the peace.

      The world knows nothing of its greatest men."

      If ambition wears this ambiguous aspect to his mind, it is not because he is disposed to regard the love of woman too enthusiastically.

      "It may be I have deemed or dreamed of such.

      But what know I? We figure to ourselves

      The thing we like, and then we build it up

      As chance will have it, on the rock or sand:

      For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world,

      And home-bound fancy runs her bark ashore."

      Yet Artevelde is at this time on his way to Adriana to make that declaration which the Lady Adriana is so solicitous to hear. This a lover! Yes; only one of that order who hang over and count the beatings of their own heart.

      Launoy being destroyed, and the people of Ghent having lost others of their leaders, and growing discontented with the stern rule of Van Den Bosch, some new captain or ruler of the town is looked for. The eyes of men are turned to Philip Van Artevelde. He shall be captain of the Whitehoods, and come to the rescue of the falling cause; for, of late, the Earl of Flanders has been everywhere victorious. Van Den Bosch himself makes the proposal. It is evident, from hints that follow, that Artevelde had already made his choice; he saw that the time was come when, even if he desired it, there was no maintaining a peaceful neutrality. But Van Den Bosch meets with no eager spirit ready to snatch at the perilous prize held out to him. He is no dupe to the nature of the offer, nor very willing that others should fancy him to be one —

      "Not so fast.

      Your vessel, Van Den Bosch, hath felt the storm:

      She rolls dismasted in an ugly swell,

      And you would make a jury-mast of me,

      Whereon to spread the tatters of your canvass."

      It is worth noticing how the passion of revenge, like the others, is admitted to its post; admitted, yet coldly looked upon. He will revenge his father. Two knights, Sir Guisebert Grutt and Simon Bette, (we wish they had better names,) were mainly instrumental in his murder. These men have been playing false, by making treacherous overtures to the Earl of Flanders; they will be in his power. But they cannot, he reflects, render back the life they have destroyed —

      – "Life for life, vile bankrupts as they are,

      Their worthless lives for his of countless price,

      Is their whole wherewithal to pay the debt.

      Yet retribution is a goodly thing,

      And it were well to wring the payment from them,

      Even to the utmost drop of their heart's blood."

      Still less does the patriotic harangue of Van Den Bosch find an enthusiastic response. He was already too much a statesman to be a demagogue; not to mention that his father's career had taught him a bitter estimate of popularity, and of all tumultuary enthusiasm: —

      "Van Den Bosch. Times are sore changed, I see. There's none in Ghent

      That answers to the name of Artevelde.

      Thy father did not carp or question thus

      When Ghent invoked his aid. The days have been

      When not a citizen drew breath in Ghent

      But freely would have died in Freedom's cause.

      Artevelde. With a good name thou christenest the cause.

      True, to make choice of despots is some freedom,

      The only freedom for this turbulent town,

      Rule her who may. And in my father's time

      We still were independent, if not free;

      And wealth from independence, and from wealth

      Enfranchisement will partially proceed.

      The cause, I grant thee, Van Den Bosch, is good;

      And were I linked to earth no otherwise

      But that my whole heart centred in myself,

      I could have tossed you this poor life to play with,

      Taking no second thought. But as things are,

      I will resolve the matter warily,

      And send thee word betimes of my conclusion.

      Van Den Bosch. Betimes it must be; for some two hours hence

      I meet the Deans, and ere we separate

      Our course must be determined.

      Artevelde. In two hours,

      If I be for you, I will send this ring

      In token I have so resolved."

      He had already resolved. Such a man would not have suffered himself to be hemmed in within the space of two hours to make so great a decision; but he would not rush precipitately forward; he would feel his own will at each step. He had already resolved; but his love to Adriana troubles him at heart: he must first make all plain and intelligible there, before he becomes captain of the Whitehoods. From this interview he goes to Adriana; and then follows a dialogue, every sentence of which, if we were looking out for admirable passages for quotation, would offer itself as a candidate. We quote only, from a drama so well known, for the purpose of illustrating the analytic view we would present of its chief hero; but the passages selected for this purpose can hardly fail of being also amongst the most beautiful in themselves. Artevelde is alone, waiting for the appearance of Adriana —

      "There is but one thing that still harks me back.

      To bring a cloud upon the summer day

      Of one so happy and so beautiful, —

      It is a hard condition. For myself,

      I know not that the circumstance of life

      In all its changes can so far afflict me

      As makes anticipation much worth while.

      … Oh she is fair!

      As fair as Heaven to look upon! as fair

      As ever vision of the Virgin blest

      That weary pilgrim, resting by the fount

      Beneath the palm, and dreaming to the tune

      Of flowing waters, duped his soul withal.

      It was permitted in my pilgrimage

      To rest beside the fount, beneath the tree,

      Beholding there no vision, but a maid

      Whose form was light and graceful as the palm,

      Whose heart was pure and jocund as the fount,

      And spread a freshness and a verdure round."

      Adriana appears, and in the course of the dialogue he addresses her thus: —

      "Be calm;

      And let me warn thee, ere thy choice be fixed,

      What fate thou may'st be wedded to with me.

      Thou hast beheld me living heretofore

      As one retired in staid tranquillity:

      The dweller in the mountains, on whose ear

      The accustomed cataract thunders unobserved;

      The seaman, who sleeps sound upon the deck,

      Nor hears the loud lamenting

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