The following brief essay was contributed by Butler to a small
miscellany entitled LITERARY FOUNDLINGS:
VERSE AND PROSE, COLLECTED
IN CANTERBURY, N.Z., which was published at Christ Church on the
occasion of a bazaar held there in March, 1864, in aid of the funds
of the Christ Church Orphan Asylum, and offered for sale during the
progress of the bazaar. The miscellany consisted entirely of the
productions of Canterbury writers, and among the contributors were
Dean Jacobs, Canon Cottrell, and James Edward FitzGerald, the founder
of the PRESS.
When Prince Ferdinand was wrecked on the island Miranda was fifteen
years old. We can hardly suppose that she had ever seen Ariel, and
Caliban was a detestable object whom her father took good care to
keep as much out of her way as possible. Caliban was like the man
cook on a back-country run. "'Tis a villain, sir," says Miranda. "I
do not love to look on." "But as 'tis," returns Prospero, "we cannot
miss him; he does make our fire, fetch in our wood, and serve in
offices that profit us." Hands were scarce, and Prospero was obliged
to put up with Caliban in spite of the many drawbacks with which his
services were attended; in fact, no one on the island could have
liked him, for Ariel owed him a grudge on the score of the cruelty
with which he had been treated by Sycorax, and we have already heard
what Miranda and Prospero had to say about him. He may therefore
pass for nobody. Prospero was an old man, or at any rate in all
probability some forty years of age; therefore it is no wonder that
when Miranda saw Prince Ferdinand she should have fallen violently in
love with him. "Nothing ill," according to her view, "could dwell in
such a temple - if the ill Spirit have so fair an house, good things
will strive to dwell with 't." A very natural sentiment for a girl
in Miranda's circumstances, but nevertheless one which betrayed a
charming inexperience of the ways of the world and of the real value
of good looks. What surprises us, however, is this, namely the
remarkable celerity with which Miranda in a few hours became so
thoroughly wide awake to the exigencies of the occasion in
consequence of her love for the Prince. Prospero has set Ferdinand
to hump firewood out of the bush, and to pile it up for the use of
the cave. Ferdinand is for the present a sort of cadet, a youth of
good family, without cash and unaccustomed to manual labour; his
unlucky stars have landed him on the island, and now it seems that he
"must remove some thousands of these logs and pile them up, upon a
sore injunction." Poor fellow! Miranda's heart bleeds for him. Her
"affections were most humble"; she had been content to take Ferdinand
on speculation. On first seeing him she had exclaimed, "I have no
ambition to see a goodlier man"; and it makes her blood boil to see
this divine creature compelled to such an ignominious and painful
labour. What is the family consumption of firewood to her? Let
Caliban do it; let Prospero do it; or make Ariel do it; let her do it
herself; or let the lightning come down and "burn up those logs you
are enjoined to pile"; - the logs themselves, while burning, would
weep for having wearied him. Come what would, it was a shame to make
Ferdinand work so hard, so she winds up thus: "My father is hard at
study; pray now rest yourself - HE'S SAFE FOR THESE THREE HOURS."
Safe - if she had only said that "papa was safe," the sentence would
have been purely modern, and have suited Thackeray as well as
Shakspeare. See how quickly she has learnt to regard her father as
one to be watched and probably kept in a good humour for the sake of
Ferdinand. We suppose that the secret of the modern character of
this particular passage lies simply in the fact that young people
make love pretty much in the same way now that they did three hundred
years ago; and possibly, with the exception that "the governor" may
be substituted for the words "my father" by the young ladies of three
hundred years hence, the passage will sound as fresh and modern then
as it does now. Let the Prosperos of that age take a lesson, and
either not allow the Ferdinands to pile up firewood, or so to arrange
their studies as not to be "safe" for any three consecutive hours.
It is true that Prospero's objection to the match was only feigned,
but Miranda thought otherwise, and for all purposes of argument we
are justified in supposing that he was in earnest.
THE ENGLISH CRICKETERS
The following lines were written by Butler in February, 1864, and
appeared in the PRESS. They refer to a visit paid to New Zealand by
a team of English cricketers, and have kindly been copied and sent to
me by Miss Colborne-Veel, whose father was editor of the PRESS at the
time that Butler was writing for it. Miss Colborne-Veel has further
permitted to me to make use of the following explanatory note: "The
coming of the All England team was naturally a glorious event in a
province only fourteen years old. The Mayor and Councillors had 'a
car of state' - otherwise a brake - 'with postilions in the English
style.' Cobb and Co. supplied a six-horse coach for the English
eleven, the yellow paint upon which suggested the 'glittering chariot
of pure gold.' So they drove in triumph from the station and through
the town. Tinley for England and Tennant for Canterbury were the
heroes of the match. At the Wednesday dinner referred to they
exchanged compliments and cricket balls across the table. This early
esteem for cricket may be explained by a remark made by the All
England captain, that 'on no cricket ground in any colony had he met
so many public school men, especially men from old Rugby, as at
Canterbury.'"
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