Page:Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition, v. 5.djvu/409

Rh  with flashes of fancy, and kindled at times into heat of imagination. The main fault of his style is one more commonly found in the prose than in the verse of his time,—a quaint and florid obscurity, rigid with elaborate rhetoric and tortuous with labyrinthine illustration; not dark only to the rapid reader through closeness and subtlety of thought, like Donne, whose miscalled obscurity is so often "all glorious within," but thick and slab as a witch's gruel with forced and barbarous eccentricities of articulation. As his language in the higher forms of comedy is always pure and clear, and sometimes exquisite in the simplicity of its earnest and natural grace, the stiffness and density of his more ambitious style may perhaps be attributed to some pernicious theory or conceit of the dignity proper to a moral and philosophic poet. Nevertheless, many of the gnomic passages in his tragedies and allegoric poems are of singular weight and beauty; the best of these, indeed, would not discredit the fame of the very greatest poets for sublimity of equal thought and expression: witness the lines chosen by Shelley as the motto for a poem, and fit to have been chosen as the motto for his life.

The romantic and sometimes barbaric grandeur of Chapman's Homer remains attested by the praise of Keats, of Coleridge, and of Lamb; it is written at a pitch of strenuous and laborious exaltation, which never flags or breaks down, but never flies with the ease and smoothness of an eagle native to Homeric air. From his occasional poems an expert and careful hand might easily gather a noble anthology of excerpts, chiefly gnomic or meditative, allegoric or descriptive. The most notable examples of his tragic work are comprised in the series of plays taken, and adapted sometimes with singular licence, from the records of such part of French history as lies between the reign of Francis I. and the reign of Henry IV., ranging in date of subject from the trial and death of Admiral Chabot to the treason and execution of Marshal Biron. The two plays bearing as epigraph the name of that famous soldier and conspirator are a storehouse of lofty thought and splendid verse, with scarcely a flash or sparkle of dramatic action. The one play of Chapman's whose popularity on the stage survived the Restoration is Bussy d'Ambois (d'Amboise),—a tragedy not lacking in violence of action or emotion, and abounding even more in sweet and sublime interludes than in crabbed and bombastic passages. His rarest jewels of thought and verse detachable from the context lie embedded in the tragedy of Cæsar and Pompey, whence the finest of them were first extracted by the unerring and unequalled critical genius of Charles Lamb. In most of his tragedies the lofty and labouring spirit of Chapman may be said rather to shine fitfully through parts than steadily to pervade the whole; they show nobly altogether as they stand, but even better by help of excerpts and selections. But the excellence of his best comedies can only be appreciated by a student who reads them fairly and fearlessly through, and, having made some small deductions on the score of occasional pedantry and occasional indecency, finds in All Fools, Monsieur d'Olive, The Gentleman Usher, and The Widow's Tears a wealth and vigour of humorous invention, a tender and earnest grace of romantic poetry, which may atone alike for these passing blemishes and for the lack of such clear-cut perfection of character and such dramatic progression of interest as we find only in the yet higher poets of our heroic age.

So much it may here suffice to say of Chapman as an original poet, one who held of no man and acknowledged no master, but throughout the whole generation of our greatest men, from the birth of Marlowe well-nigh to the death of Jonson, held on his own hard and haughty way of austere and sublime ambition, not without kindly and graceful inclination of his high grey head to salute such younger and still nobler compeers as Jonson and Fletcher. With Shakespeare we should never have guessed that he had come at all in contact, had not the keen intelligence of a living critic, Mr Minto, divined or rather discerned him to be the rival poet referred to in Shakespeare's sonnets with a grave note of passionate satire, hitherto as enigmatic as almost all questions connected with those divine and dangerous poems. This conjecture the critic has fortified by such apt collocation and confrontation of passages that we may now reasonably accept it as an ascertained and memorable fact.

The objections which a just and adequate judgment may bring against Chapman's master-work, his translation of Homer, may be summed up in three epithets: it is romantic, laborious, Elizabethan. The qualities implied by these epithets are the reverse of those which should distinguish a translator of Homer; but setting this apart, and considering the poems as in the main original works, the superstructure of a romantic poet on the submerged foundations of Greek verse, no praise can be too warm or high for the power, the freshness, the indefatigable strength and inextinguishable fire which animate this exalted work, and secure for all time that shall take cognizance of English poetry an honoured place in its highest annals for the memory of Chapman.

 CHAPPE, (1763-1805), a French engineer, and the inventor of the simple French telegraph, was born in Normandy in 1763. His invention consisted of an upright post, on the top of which was fastened a transverse bar, while at the ends of the latter two smaller arms moved on pivots. The positions of these four bars represented words or letters; and by means of machines placed at intervals such that each was distinctly visible from the next, messages could be conveyed through 50 leagues in a quarter of an hour. It was said that Chappe borrowed the design from Hooke and Amontons, and the charge so deeply affected him that, notwithstanding the success of his machine, which had been adopted by the Legislative Assembly in 1792, he was seized with deep melancholia, under which he committed suicide in 1805.  CHAPTAL,  (1756-1832), count of Chanteloup, an eminent French chemist and statesman, born at Nogaret, Lozère, 4th June 1756. At Montpellier, where he first studied chemistry, he obtained his doctor's diploma in 1777, when he repaired to Paris. In 1781, the States of Languedoc founded a chair of chemistry for him at the school of medicine in Montpellier, where he taught with success the doctrines of Lavoisier, in opposition to those of Stahl. The capital he acquired by the death of a wealthy uncle he employed in the establishment of chemical works for the manufacture of mineral acids, alum, white-lead, soda, and other substances. His labours in the cause of applied science were at length recognized by the French Government, which presented him with letters of nobility, and the cordon of the order of Saint Michel. A publication by Chaptal, entitled Dialogue entre un Montagnard et un Girondin, caused him to be arrested; but being speedily set at liberty through the intermission of his friends, he undertook, in 1793, the management of the saltpetre works at Grenelle. In the following year he went to Montpellier, where he remained till 1797, when he returned to Paris. After the revolution of the 18th of Brumaire (9th November 1799) he was made a councillor of state by the first consul, and succeeded Lucien Bonaparte as minister of the interior, in which capacity he established a chemical manufactory near Paris, a school of arts, and a society of industries: he also reorganized the hospitals, introduced the metrical system of weights and measures, and otherwise greatly encouraged the arts and sciences. A