saw this thoroughly, when the herd of German critics were praising Gothe's supposed "objectivity" and "realism." "The speci-ings, he talks in many instances the ality" (says he, speaking of the "Swiss Travels,") which here, as in almost all his works, distinguishes him from Homer and Shakspeare, is that the I.' the Ille Ego,' glimmers through everywhere, although without ostentation and with consummate delicacy." Gothe himself was at the bottom, no less aware of it. It was (no doubt,) a real perception of this leading peculiarity of his own genius, though he often affected to disguise it from himself and others, which made him sometimes recognize that the bulk of his writings were in truth addressed to particular classes only. "My works," he said to Ackermann, "never can be popular: they are not written for the multitude, but only for individual men whose pursuits and aims are like my own." A curious exemplification of this leading peculiarity will be found in the history of the composition of the "Sorrows of Werter," about which many stories have been told; but the latest and most authentic seems to be given by Herr Dünzer in a separate chapter of one of the works before us. After Gothe's disappointment of the heart in the matter of his fair Alsatian, Friederike, he fell into one of those states of tender melancholy, in which a youth of twenty-three generally resorts to the society of the first fair sympathizer whom he can find, purely for friendly consolation. Such a comforter he soon found in a somewhat bourgeoise young lady, whose paternal appellation now appears to have been Miss Charlotte Buff. To her he confided his sorrows, and from her he exacted sympathy and advice, at such unwarrantable length, that poor Charlotte, who had no objection to a bit of romance, provided it ended in the orthodox form of a proposal, grew tired and entered into a mater-of-fact engagement with a very matterof fact friend of both parties, Christian KestThe discovery of this treason made Gothe quite certain that he was actually in love with the lady to whom he had never chosen to communicate his feelings, and threw him into all the despair of rejected and betrayed attachment. Just at this crisis of his history happened the tragic adventure of young Jerusalem-him of the buff waistcoat and yellow breeches-whose fatal ner. nassion is recounted in the “ Dichtung und ter is Jerusalem and Gothe at once wears the costume, he undergoes the s language (borrowed from his posthu papers) of that too fascinating foreignclerk; but he is throughout what C would have been, had he been Jerusa the imaginary transposition of the poet the perplexities and distresses of his acq tance. And thus a work which, let c speak of it as they may, has excited the cy and controlled the hearts of numbe mankind, is spun out of the brain of a from materials which consist simply of own heart and imagination, placed in cumstances of idealised truth; for "Jer lem" seems, after all, to have been on young attaché of considerable solemnity self-respect-his flame, the real Charl according to the testimony of the Prince Ligne, was not worth knowing; and double, Charlotte Kestner, née Buff, m have been little better, judging from cold manner in which Gothe speaks of whom he occasionally met in after life.* But if the real tendency of Göthe's ger was thus thoroughly subjective or egoti cal, so much the less was he a dramatist the peculiar sense of the word. Portrait of character, independent of self, he l really little enough. This the reader best appreciate by reflecting how few of t 66 *See Dünzer, p. 89, &c. It seems that H Kestner was not particularly pleased with the p of the philosophic husband, assigned to him Werter," and that Göthe was forced to retou the character considerably in the second editi without succeeding in thoroughly pacifying hi but Göthe was by this time deep in his new passi for the fashionable Frankfort belle, Miss Schönma and Werter" had become weariness and vexati to him. It must have been with some malicio pleasure in mystifying his admirers, that Göt emerged from the gloom of "Werter" into th graceful pleasantry of his various poems to "Lili such as those exquisite lines in which he complain of her tyranny in drawing him from the dream voluptuousness of a poet's study into her favorit evening parties: "Warum ziehst du mich unwiderstehlich, "Heimlich in mein Zimmerchen verschlossen Ganz von seinem Schauerlicht durchflossen, ry figures in Gothe's plays or novels. realize to himself, or regard with the interest. The only exception of ve are aware proves the rule in the st possible manner. He is said to ticularly successful in the delineation ertain class of female characters, in he has met with many imitators; beose attraction lies in their simple and dependence on man as a superior,, Clara, Margaret. But the true of these imaginary beings lies less in Ives than in their relation to us-in lings of protection and supremacy to they appeal-in the flattery they adr to masculine vanity and self-glo on. The breeze was perceptible enough to Byron's muse, no doubt; but how could it possibly be felt by a man carried through the air, at full gallop, on horseback? Similar errors, in relation to things of more importance than pictorial effect-the development of thought or passion-will constantly be found in writers of the highest order of what is commonly called dramatic power. The poet is substituted for his subject. We should be surprised at meeting with such instances in Gothe. Not only are they contrary to his careful touch, but he transforms himself, for the time, far too completely into the person whom he introduces-whether as an agent or a mere observer-to forget that imaginary existence which is become, for the time his own. will only add, in order to dispose of ection to our view which might be In thus endeavoring to delineate some of that it is by no means inconsistent the strongest literary characteristics of this hat has been already said, to recog- great writer, we are conscious of having othe's great excellence in one peculi- made a long digression from our immediate amatic point-that accuracy of keep- purpose, which was to regard him as a social ich represents everything as seen and philosopher, and with reference to his moral the party introduced, not as seen and influence on the European mind. But, in the describer. It is, in fact, not dif- truth, the one subject bears materially and o see the real connexion between this directly on the other. If we have labored, and that strong personality which we perhaps at unnecessary length, to show that lready attributed to him. It was pre- an intense and refined egotism was among the because Gothe projected so much of principal elements of Gothe's literary genius, f into the characters and scenes of his it was in order to illustrate his philosophic s, that he made the events described character; with the view of showing how pe themselves from the point of view his very excellencies, considered from the own dramatis persona, never as they point of view of literary art, fitted him for be perceived by a third party observing the distinction of being the ablest and most ithout. This is a point on which great successful of modern teachers in the school ve talent-great power of picturesque of Epicurus. Nor were the peculiarities of tion, for instance-is apt to lead its his temper and habits different from what sor astray, unless balanced by pre- his writings would lead the reader to anticiint egotism. A criticism of Gothe's pate. His whole history shows how abundassage of Walter Scott, though it re-antly he practised what he preached how 1 terms only to a matter of pictorial Self was the single divinity worshipped by will illustrate our general meaning also. | him, with a refined and chastened worship, tes to the scene in "Ivanhoe," where no doubt, during his long eighty years of w of York enters Cedric's hall. The life and activity. e of the Jew is minutely described, nong the rest, the dress of his legs and Now this, says Gothe, is wrong; for e to suppose yourself in the position of and his guests; they are sitting at a with lights; and by persons so placed tails of the lower limbs of one who the room are not remarked, and, in re hardly distinguishable. A similar e of forgetfulness, more glaring be the narrative is thrown into the first. "Gothe," says Menzel, with much the same meaning as ours, " adhered, in his writings, to nature; to the nearest nature; to his own. His own nature stood in exactest harmony with that which had become the reigning character of the modern world. He was the clearest mirror of modern life in his own life, as well as in his poetry. He needed only to delineate himself in order to delineate the modern world, its turn of senti mont ita in Dimai. man in reality, and, again, appeared to him the worthiest object of poetry; inasmuch as he only mirrored the advantages which his own life and person represented." Menzel's splenetic tone and coarse inflation of style have detracted from the real value of his criticisms; but the justice of this sentence will scarcely admit of dispute. Not that Gothe was a selfish man in the vulgar sense. His disposition was, in the main, amiable and tolerant, and widely different in these respects from that of his French predecessors, with whom we have associated him. He was averse from giving pain, as well as peculiarly averse from encountering it himself. But all this was consistent in him, as it is in many others, with habits of mental self-indulgence carried even to the extreme. From his youth upward, he loved to live in an atmosphere of his own, and found himself most at his ease in the company of those whose position, in respect of age, talents, or sex, induced them to look up to him as a superior. He remarks, in his own memoirs, on the peculiarity which led him to surround himself with younger dependents, often to his ultimate inconvenience, as they became burdens to him, like Mignon to Wilhelm. Nor was this unconnected with a manner of affected importance and superiority which, notwithstanding his popularity. always placed a kind of barrier between him and men of his own age and social position. Kestner remarked of him when only twentyfour: "Gothe is a genius; yet he has in his disposition a good deal which may make him a disagreeable man. But among children and women he is always well received." Farther acquaintance with life, and a strong determination to succeed in the world, modified to a considerable extent these peculiarities of his youth; and he was never so popular or so successful, personally, as during the years which intervened between his establishment at Weimar and his Italian journey (1775-1787.) Those were happy years. Few poets have ever enjoyed so much of life, There was all the excitement of winning his way into the favor, the confidence, the intimate friendship, of the young Grand Duke and Duchess. There was the easy rivalry with the other literary heroes of the time, whom he could beat at their own weapons as an author, while in all the qualities which ensure social success he was incom---kl- their superior There was the end which Catherine now and then im condescended, which poor Maria An tasted with timid and stealthy delig in which the potentates of Weimar revel without fear of strangling or de tion;-hunting parties, gipsey exc serenades, pic-nics, theatricals, from J to December. There was just the s State-business for him as the Grand intimate privy councillor, which migh either as a diversion from courtly dissip or an excuse for it. There was all th finement of the social circle which prized so highly; a little, perhaps, i spirit of a parvenu, but also with a admiration for external elegance and be which he carried to a strange extent, ad ing to his disciple, Vernhagen von Ense remarks that in later life Gothe's pri associates were all tall and handsome like himself, and that he had a decided tipathy to plain people. There was, a all, full leisure for the development o growing genius, and his surpassing menta tivity while his bodily and mental he alike profited by the opportunity. But this enjoyment palled upon him f its very excess, and also from the wan what Byron called, "something craggy break upon;"-some one powerful and grossing occupation of the mind. For literary pursuits were up to this time sin larly broken and inconsequent. When world of Weimar was conquered-when own position was fairly attained, and th was no longer any object to be gained exerting himself to please others, the tend cy to insulation came back upon him w redoubled force. The restraints of Wein life, the ties of society and office, became tolerable. It was in order to get rid of the at once and definitely, that he planned a executed his Italian journey, in that stran manner which he has himself related so wel partly also (we suppose we must add, sin the publication of his correspondence wi Frau von Stein) to break through the trar mels of one of those tender friendships, antediluvian prolixity, in which the literati the last century were apt to involve then selves. This journey was in many respect the turning point of his life. For him, as fo most men, the river Lethe flowed on th other side of the Alps. He forgot his for mer sense and being on the farther shore During his eighteen months in Italy, he sat rviews of natural philosophy which d him so much and so happily during ainder of his days. But how far his gained in its higher qualities by the which it then underwent is a question h critics are widely at issue. Meanowever this may be, it is certain that its which he acquired tended in no to efface the moral weaknesses of his er. Freed from the restraints imposed by the usages of the Weimar literary , and left much to himself, or to the y of one or two artists and travelers, osed into habits of self-contemplation -worship, until they became uncone. Even one of his greatest admiancellor von Müller (the author of n seiner praktischen Wirksamkeit') 1 to confess that he came back from man altered for the worse; colder, pansive, more self-important. Nor ever get rid of these defects, and rethe more attractive self of his earlier twithstanding the beneficial results d on his nature for a time, as already contact with that of Schiller: a nasuredly far more generous and unthan Gothe's own, although the lat-in connection with this subject, on the fondchosen to say, with that singular ness of his heroines, particularly in " "Wilon. or paradoxical turn, which so helm Meister," for assuming male attire-a sconcerts his readers :-"Schiller had topic on which Varnhagen von Ense has a e knowledge of the world and tact luculent dissertation, showing that it is con¡ad!” nected with some of the deepest historical meanings of the eighteenth century, the Reformation, and the Revolution; but which may also be, in part, an expression of the same prevailing view of the female nature as imitative and dependent. And we may pursue the same pervading thread of imagination in the most dramatic specimens of Gothe's ballad poetry, such as the "Bride of Corinth," and the of Corinth," and the "God and the Baya-dere." |nected with much that we have said above that in almost all Göthe's works that peculiar view of the relations between the sexes, under which man is the courted party, and woman the submissive worshipper, is brought out in the principal characters. Whether in the odd vicissitudes of the world, the element introduced by chivalry into these relations has expanded itself, and later refinement is likely to bring us back from adoring Gloriana and Angelica, to being adored by Chryseis and Briseis, we will not undertake to foretell; though the popularity of such writers as Göthe and Byron would certainly seem to point that way. His "Faust," "Egmont," "Edward," in the Wahlverwandtschaften, "Wilhelm Meister," are all either condescending divinities, or mere male coquettes; and his most attractive female characters seem all to belong to poor Helena's sect: "Thus, Indian-like, Religious in mine error, I adore The Sun that looks upon his worshipper, Nay, the curious reader may even remark, e later years of Göthe's life we con, for our own parts, we dwell with asure. We do not complain of his ers, when they naturally dilate on ies of his venerable old age,-his position as the living oracle of Gertelligence, the honor, love, obeand troops of friends that waited on he last. All this is externally true; to us, his friends, with a few grand ns, seem chiefly to have belonged Such, in some of the more important class of flatterers, Boswells, and points of his character, was the man for pondents of leading literary jour- whom Destiny had reserved so marked a is oracular dignity to have degenera- place, in an age when the fiercest passions a trick of mysteriousness, involving and wildest enthusiasm were at work in the st trivial commonplaces in solemn European world, recasting its social instituon of importance; and the chief tions, and remodeling the temper of its inof his life to have lain in the con- habitants. The greatest man," saith the emi-sentimental correspondences with fair blue-stocking of the Wahlverwandtsfor whom he cared not an iota, but chaften, Ottilia, in her Diary, "are always was his delight to lead on, by flatter-connected with their age through some one ally their vanity and his own, until weakness." If this can be predicted of ummation was reached of involving Gothe, his weakness rather lay in an intense something like a romantic passion | desire to shrink from its violent emotions— 66 avoid meddling with those who attempted to direct it. And this it is, more than any other quality, which has rendered him, not unjustly, unpopular with a great part of the living generation. It is felt that he owed a corresponding debt to the country which worshipped him, and that he died without discharging it. It was not through mere accident, or the force of mere scholastic causes, that the sect of the Epicureans prevailed at Rome during the last agitated century of its Republic, while Stoicism became the reigning intellectual fashion under the empire. For refined and cultivated minds, when looking for shelter from the evils of the times in a world of their own, naturally try to make that world as unlike as possible to the external one. They seek refuge in philosophic self-indulgence from the furious passions, the exaggerated sentiments of an age of civil turmoil; while, on the same principle of contrast, they court, at least in imagination, the excitements of ascetic virtue, amidst the corrupt stagnation of despotism. To preserve the tranquility of Epicurus in the busy political times on which he had fallen, was Gothe's constant and patient endeavor. The French Revolution came to disturb the dreams of art and imaginative science, in which his Italian sojourn had lapped him. He had no sympathy with its principles, and hated its agents. But to call out another enthusiasm to oppose it was utterly alien from his feelings. His trumpet sounded, indeed, a note of defiance -but a very faint one-in Herman and Dorothea. But what is the moral of the poem, as summed up in the energetic lines which close it? Seek steadfastness during days of political trial in self-reliance, and take good care of your property : millions; let the evil days pass b whatever of æsthetic and social enj the conqueror has left you. Even pressions which the gallant German of his intimate friend, the Grand D Weimer, had to endure from Nap called forth from him scarcely a feeble of indignation. In his "Tag und Hefte," his skeleton memoirs of his lif ing all this period, there is a studied nence from all allusion to political e an affectedly exclusive attention t trivial vicissitudes of the stage and cri at Weimar. He never concealed his ration for the tyrant himself, whom h fessed to venerate as one of the "Di ische Männer," the Genii of the earth encouraged a kind of worship of Nap in his own family;-Napoleon, who done him the honor of suggesting corrections in a forthcoming edition of ter!"How could I have taken up without hate ?" was his defence of hi to Eckermann, "and I never hated French. How could I, to whom nothi of importance except cultivation and barism, hate one of the most cultivated tions in the world, and one to which I so large a portion of my own developme It is really a relief to reflect on the Nen which followed-on the sense of weari and self-abasement with which the poet n have come forward in 1815, as the old ha laureate of Germany, to dedicate ode courtly patriotism to the Allied Soverei and compliment the nation on the "wal of Epimenides." Such Gothe remained during the less lent but more deeply-seated disturbances political society in his later years. We not among those who quarrel with him not having been a democrat or a Germ Unionist, from 1815 to 1830,-reproach which, however popular some years ag have lost some of their force, at least w thinking men, in the year 1850. N do we think it necessary to assume the dignation with which German liberalism garded his conduct in the matter of the pi secution of Oken, the editor of the Isis, a his opposition to the freedom of the press. this, as on the occasion of Fichte's expulsi from Weimer in 1798, Gothe, probably, d no more than his official duty, although |