XXVIII. 1800-48. CHAP. Werther, and many of his lyrical pieces, we are charmed by the highest refinement and delicacy of sentiment; in many, as Faust, Wilhelm Meister, the Relatives by Affinity, and Herman and Dorothea, we see a profound knowledge of the human heart, a thorough knowledge of the world in all its grades, and a complete acquaintance with the secret springs of evil which are ever springing up in the breast; in some, unhappily, an undisguised propensity to licentiousness, and occasional expressions so gross that his most ardent admirers cannot read them without regret. It is scarcely possible to conceive how the same mind which had conceived the exquisite picture of loveliness and innocence in Mignon of passion in Margaretcould have penned some scenes in Wilhelm Meister, some lines in Faust. It is evident that he was at bottom a sensualist, and not merely so in the sense in which it is generally understood, but in the gratification of all the senses. His descriptions of love too often savour of the warmth of Moore's earlier effusions, rather than the tenderness of his Irish Melodies; and amidst all his admiration of the glaciers of Switzerland and the sun setting on the rosy summit of Mont Blanc, he is by no means insensible to the merits of a good dinner, or the charm of red wine after the fatigues of a sultry day. On the great subject of morality and religion he does not appear to have had any fixed principles. No one could make more skilful use of their language than he has done on many occasions, or move the heart more intensely by the most exquisite pathos, the most elevated sentiment, the most generous self-devotion. But he does so as a barrister makes use of the flowers of rhetoric to serve his client, an actor of the expression of passion to enchant an audience; such sentiments evince the skill of the artist, not the sentiments of the man. It is doubtful if he believed in the immortality of the soul, or had anything but a wavering trust in the existence of a Supreme Being. Certain it is that he not only disbelieved in XXVIII. Christianity, but had a fixed aversion to its precepts and CHAP. its very name. He was too much enamoured of the good things of the world to tolerate any creed which prescribed 1800-48, a check upon its indulgences; and felt too strongly the enjoyments of the senses to think their abandonment was not dearly purchased by the secret approval of conscience or the public applause of the world. 14. gious versa So great was the versatility of Goethe's genius, so vast the range of his observation, so close his survey of the His prodiinmost recesses of the heart, that there is scarce any ility. branch of literature which he has not touched, and none he has touched that he has not adorned. In the drama he stands second only to Schiller, and, in the estimation of many, even superior to that noble writer; his novels have given him a world-wide reputation; his comedies prove he was as thorough a master of the secret springs of vanity, as his tragedies do of the heroic self-sacrifice of duty; his Life of Benvenuto Cellini shows he was capable of writing an interesting biography; his Memoirs of himself a charming autobiography. No traveller in Switzerland can fail of being fascinated by his description of the Alps; in Italy, with his generous appreciation of the beauties of art. There is no philosopher whose profound sayings are more frequently quoted, as embodying just and obvious, but yet novel reflections on human affairs; no lyric poet whose stanzas are more frequently repeated by the children of the Fatherland; no critic on literature or art who is universally acknowledged to have embodied more sense and justice in beautiful language, or more worthily appreciated with a kindred spirit the genius of others. He is the most striking example that ever occurred of the versatility of the highest class of intellect, and of the truth of Johnson's observation, that what is called original genius is nothing but strong natural parts accidentally turned in one direction. This extraordinary versatility of genius and reach of observation has secured for Goethe a more widespread XXVIII. 15. His versa tility has rendered bim rather universally popular than supremely great. CHAP. reputation than any other writer in Germany; but it has perhaps precluded him from reaching in any one depart1800-48. ment the very highest stage of excellence. It is not given to any one mind, not even to that of Shakespeare or Goethe, to excel at once in every branch of literature ; universality of fame is a proof of universality rather than perfection of genius. Every one finds something that gratifies his taste, or strikes his intellect; but none find their expectations entirely gratified, their aspirations with nothing left to conceive. Had Raphael given to the world the sunsets of Claude Lorraine, the rocks of Salvator Rosa, the battle-pieces of Lebrun, and the boors of Teniers, as well as his Holy Families, he would have been admired by a wider circle, but he would never, by common consent, have been placed at the head of the art of painting. Some part of one quality would have insinuated itself into the works produced by another; the vulgarity of Teniers' groups, the luxuriance of Titian's figures, would have marred the chastity of his divine conceptions. The true mark of the highest class of genius is not universality of fame, but universal admiration by the few who can really appreciate its highest works. 16. Goethe's picture of the influ stage. Goethe's works are peculiarly valuable and interesting in one respect, from the picture they afford of the training and formation of the German mind in the peculiar ence of the state of society that there exists. The influence of the stage seems in a peculiar manner remarkable, and to one accustomed to English habits almost inconceivable. No Mephistopheles ever exercised over a Faust a more complete empire, a more thorough fascination, than the drama does over the German youth. It pervades all ranks, enchains all minds, sweeps away all understandings. Upon the youth at the universities in particular its influence is unbounded, and often not a little pernicious. The characters on the stage are the heroes on whom their admiration is fixed; the actresses the object of their XXVIII. 1800-48. idolatry. In Wilhelm Meister, and in his own Autobio- CHAP. graphy, Goethe has painted with graphic truth the evolving of sentiment in the German youth; their imaginations first excited by the puppets of the marionette theatre; their feelings next stirred by the masterpieces of Schiller and Goethe; their senses soon enthralled by the handsomest actress who captivates their eyes; their early life spent with singers, dancers, and strolling players. This mental training, so little fitted to prepare men for the duties of active life, or exercising the rights of free citizens, is partly owing, without doubt, to the enthusiastic temper of the German mind, especially in its northern provinces ; but still more is it to be ascribed to the peculiar structure of society, and the sullen lines of demarcation which separate its different ranks. The burgher class, in whom intellectual cultivation most prevails, and ardent aspirations are most frequent, shut out by feudal pride from the highest circles, by despotic government from a share in public affairs, too often take refuge in the Aspasias of the theatre for relaxation, in the ideal world of the drama for occupation; and thence in a great degree the deep desire for freedom which pervades their ranks, and the general inability, when put to the test, to exercise its powers. 17. If Goethe's genius, vast as it was, was somewhat dimmed by the multitude of objects which it embraced, the same Schiller: parallel becannot be said of the author who with all obtains the tween him second, with some the first, place in German literature. and Goethe, SCHILLER has not the variety of Goethe's ideas, but he has the unity of refined thought he is a mannerist, but his mannerism is that of the Iliad. His mind is essentially heroic, and on that account little prized by the ordinary herd; he will always occupy the highest place in the estimation of those of a similar temperament. He had not the profound knowledge of the human heart, as it exists in ordinary men, which strikes us in every page of Goethe, but he had a more thorough acquaintance with it as it beats in the breast of the noble and generous, CHAP, and as it has prompted the greatest and most memorable XXVIII. deeds of which history makes mention. We shall look 1800-48. in vain in his pages for a picture of the secret workings 18. his dramas. of vanity in the female, of selfishness in the masculine heart; but we shall never fail to find a portrait of the transports of love, the pangs of jealousy, the heroism of courage, the self-devotion of duty, such as no other author, ancient or modern, can exhibit. His mind was not graphic, like that of Homer; nor profound, like that of Shakespeare; nor tender, like those of Virgil or Racine. It was simply heroic. His works are not a collection of portraits of individual men or women, in which all recognise some of their acquaintances; but a historic gallery, into which none are admitted but the illustrious of former days, and in whose visages no emotions are depicted but such as animated those whose names have become, or were worthy to have been, immortal. This is the general character of his conceptions; but Character of it is not to be imagined from that circumstance that there is not a very great variety in his writings, and that the reader is likely to be wearied, as he so often is in Metastasio, with the frequent repetition of the same generous sentiments, the same bewitching language. He had studied human nature; but it was neither in real life, like Goethe, nor on the opera stage, like Metastasio, nor in the dreams of aristocratic republicanism, like Alfieri. It was in the page of history that he had studied mankind; and as the characters which stand forth in bold relief after the lapse of ages are those only of a lofty kind, which, for good or for evil, have stamped their impress on human affairs, his conceptions savour somewhat of the ideal, and have their prototype only in those of a heroic disposition. He does not always treat of those whom fortune had made great; his characters are not exclusively princes or princesses. He drew the heroic self-sacrifice of Joan of Arc, as she left her flocks in her native valley, the generous patriotism of William |