THE LOVES OF CLITOPHON AND LEIJCIPPE.*

Tars is a book rather to be read than reviewed ; but in any case the first thing to do is to express admiration for the print and general get-up. The printing is done by that admirable institution, the Shakespeare Head Press of Stratford- upon-Avon. The paper is Batchelor's Kehnscott hand-made paper, and for the general form Mr. Basil Blackwell is, we presume, responsible. At all events, a really beautiful book has been produced. Some of us may think that the dressing is too fine for the work and that the labour spent on the book might have been employed on a more worthy object. How- ever, that is rather an ungracious way to receive such a beautiful book, and we will only add that booklovers will be very much interested in a .comparison of the two title- pages. The copy from which the Greek novel Clitophon and Leucippe was put up had lost its title-page, and therefore it could only be guessed at. It happened, however, that as the book was going through the press a second copy of the book was found which had the title-page. On the whole, the moderns come off very well in this severe trial. Indeed, though the old page is more quaint, the new one is distinctly better displayed.

The book, apart from its bibliographical interest and its charming presentation, is notable in the first place because the translator was no less a man than the brother of Burton of the Anatomy of Melancholy—one of the greatest and most original of prose books in English literature, a book which, strange as it may sound, charmed Dr. Johnson as much as it did Charles Lamb, Leigh Hunt and Keats. But William Burton is not a person of interest merely because of his brother's fame. He holds a notable place among those English country gentlemen and sportsmen who were also men of culture. The squire archaeologist, the squire devotee of letters, has always flourished, and will, we trust, long continue to flourish among us. William Burton was a perfect example of this fascinating mixture. He was addicted to belles-tellres in his youth and then took to history and archaeology, and yet always remained the country gentleman and lord of lands. His power of writing the English language, as this translation shows, was wholly laudable. He had the happy knack which belonged to the Elizabethan translators of the books of antiquity from Herodotus to Tacitus and Suetonius of making their translations read like originals. . These gallants of the English Renaissance did not always give the correct meaning of the obscure passages, but, as a whole, they made their translations live. They preserved 'those vitamines which are so often lost in the process of

cooking," literary and prandial.

The Greek story which William Burton chose to translate is not a very inspired work, but it affords a curious example of the beginnings of novel-writing. Though the story is somewhat slow in movement and languidly and weakly licentious, it does, at any rate, give us two things of real note. We get a very interesting presentment of life in the later Roman world, for to that the story really belongs, though it was no doubt meant by the author to represent an earlier period. Next, it is worthy of note as showing not only how people lived and used their houses, but how much they travelled. Another noteworthy fact about the book is that though languidly licentious in certain places it is not depraved in the worst sense. The love-story is, indeed, far less rancid than might have been expected of one written at that epoch and dealing with men and women. As in most early stories, pirates play an important part in the plot. The machinery for separating the lovers depends, indeed, upon the con- venient sea-wolves. But the pirates are not half bad robbers, though very lightly sketched.

Taken as a whole the story is readable, and every now and then Burton gives us a sentence or two which is worthy of

the very best Elizabethan prose tradition. Take, for example, the fascinating sentence in the description of the garden of Clitophon : "There were also violets whose colour was like to the colour of a calme sea." In another equally charming sentence is the phrase which tells how Leucippe, the heroine, was kissed at the party without her leave, though by no

• The Loves of Clilophon and Leucippe. Translated from the Greek of Achilles Tatius by William Burton. Reprinted for the first time from a copy, now unique, t,ed by Thomas Creeds in 1597. Oxford ; Basil ,Blackwell, Publisher to The kespeake Head Prs.ss of Stratford-upon-Avon. [53 3s. net.]

means against her desire. "She seemed to stir a little fot fashion, yet she stood still."

One of the queerest things about this queer, decadent and squalid tale, a romance gone rotten before it 14'.1S ripe, is that there is an uncanny flavour of Richardson about ninny of the episodes. Not only do the ladies have amazing near shaves in the preservation of their virtue in the most approved Pamela style, but you feel that the author is always on the side of the girls. In the Greek book, astonishing as it sounds, the female characters arc worth ten of the males. And this is not merely a modern reader's point. You can sec that the novelist had far warmer feelings for them than for the men. Leucippe is a perfect dear, while the hero, as the editor, Mr. Brett-Smith, says in his brilliant and fascinating intro- duction, is a " paltry boy" who runs like a hare at the slightest sign of danger. One would, indeed, be exasperated with Leucippe for loving such a dud if one could feel exasperated

with anyone so delightful. As it is, one can only invoke the ordinary convention and say : "Just like a woman.

Women, however nice in themselves, can never spot a cad or a coward or a wrong-un.' The worse the fellow the more they seem compelled to be his victim."

Another Riehardsonian trait is the emergence of the use of letters in a story. There are only two, but it is the begin- ning of the mode of Clarissa Harlowe. Poor Leucippe, sold by pirates as a slave to her affianced husband's matronly lover, does not know that lie thinks he saw her drowned and buried her corpse, and so writes him the following stiffish letter :—

" LEUCIPPE TO mat MAISTEn CLITOPHON SENDETII SALUTATIONS.

Do not marvel though I cal you maister, for with what other name I should call you I know not, since you are my mistresses Husbande, although you doo not very well know the great troubles which I have suffered for your sake, yet I thought it necessarie to certifie you of a few things : for your sake I left my Mother, and mulertooke with you a voiage : for your cause I was a sacrifice, and after fell into the hands of pyrates, I suffered shipwracke. and also I suffered another kinde of death : for your sake also I was bound hi iron chaines, I carried a spade, I digged the ground, and was scourged, that you might become another womans husband. and I another mans wife : but I pray the gods forbid it. I have indured these calamities with a valiant minde : but you not hurt, free from wounds, go about to solace your selfe with new marriages. But if you think I deserve any thanks at all for these mishaps which I have suffered, request your wife that I may be set free as slice hath promised, and pay her the money which Sosthenes laide out for me ; and because I am not farre from Byzantium, take care that I may be carried thither : and if you do not beleeve me, thinke that my troubles are satisfied with this one thing. Fare well. The gods send you joy of your new marriage. These do I write unto you being yet a Virgin."

The poor husband is quite cut up by this, and asks his local and temporary confidant—house-steward to the lady who accidentally bought his wife to net as odd woman' garden

and house ' and wants to marry him—what he is to say. The groom of the chambers gives an admirable answer.

" Begin to write, love will indite the rest, but despatch as soon as you can and have very great care what you set down." Here is the letter :—

" CiaTornox To LEUCIPPE SENDETII SALUTATIONS.

Al health to my dearc mistresse Leucippe. For I present di) behold you present : but by your letters, as though ..)..ou were absent : The selfe-same thing cloth make me happy and wretched. But if omitting all other things, thous wilt looke into the truth of the matter, making no prejudice of me, you shall find that my virginitie (if there be any virginitic of men) hath followed your example : but if for a wrong cause you begin to hate me, I earnestly beseech you, that you would change your opinion. For I do promise (as the gods be my helpers) that it will come to passe, that you shall verily knowe, that I am in no fault. Farewell. Awl let me understand from you, that you be favourable to me."

That is a eally good beginning for epistolary fiction.