pher-poet himself seemed fully aware that Riemer was unequal to the task which he had undertaken. In proof of this, we need only refer to the Table-talk, at the close of the second volume. This does no justice to Goethe. Nowhere in his writings are his observations so commonplace. It exhibits little of that brilliancy, and still less of that profundity, characteristic of the author of Faust. This is not to be accounted for on the ground that the Doctor has not given full reports, although the most brilliant observations become dull and vapid when clumsily set down. It seems impossible to avoid the inference that Goethe, knowing the calibre of the man he had to deal with, resolved to descend to his level; for it was always one of his favorite axioms that common courtesy requires that in conversation we should endeavor to suit our language as best we can, to the capacities and tastes of those with whom we

converse.

At the same time, there is much that is valuable in the two thick volumes of Dr. Riemer; for, whatever may be the defects of the author in other respects, even his enemies scarcely venture to deny that he is a man of the strictest integrity. The general verdict in Germany is, that any statement of fact which he makes from his own knowledge may be implicitly relied upon. Hence it is that more has been borrowed from him than from all other biographers. It is only his criticisms, or, rather, his eulogies, that are calculated to mislead; and yet he not only gives a more correct general idea of Goethe than any other biographer, but also affords the reader more aid in studying his characteristics. Carlyle is vastly more eloquent and persuasive than Riemer. The former gives us much finer descriptions than the latter, but much less information. If the belligerent disposition of Riemer is generally disagreeable, it sometimes answers a good purpose. This is the case in the instance in which he attacks Falk, denouncing him a falsifier of Goethe's opinions and expressions; for Falk too has had the ambition to be the poet's Boswell; and as such he has been extensively quoted by various biographers. Nowhere is Riemer more logical than when he comes to deal with Falk; indeed, in the course of his arguments against the only person that has any pretension to rival him in his peculiar sphere, he sometimes becomes humorous, as, for example, when he asks, If Goethe was so very intimate with Falk, and for so long a time as the

as

latter pretends, how does it happen that he never mentions his name, either in his voluminous correspondence with Schiller and Zelter, or in any of the fifty-five volumes of his writings?" Me he does mention in almost every one of his books," says Riemer; "in most of them several times, and always with confidence and respect. If he had confidence and respect, or either, for Falk, why has he not left us some proof of the fact ?" Falk tries to explain this, by alleging that his rival availed himself of his position, as a corrector of the manuscripts, to expunge whatever incidental remarks he did not wish to see the light. But this has had little effect-no effect at all on those acquainted with the circumstances. Altogether independently of the known integrity of Riemer, and his veneration for the opinions of his great master-a veneration amounting almost to idolatry-everybody knew that remarks made in letters to Schiller or Zelter could not have been suppressed without the concurrence of the latter; and accordingly the public opinion of Europe soon adopted the rule, that no important statement made by Falk should be accepted, except it was corroborated, at least, in some of its essential particulars, by some biographer in whom Goethe was known to have confidence. At the same time, Falk has been much more read abroad, especially in England, than Riemer. His freedom of opinion and outspokenness would sufficiently account for this. We naturally prefer that which reveals most and is most independent in criticism. But Falk has had an additional advantage, in being introduced to the English and American public-Mrs. Austin, a very lively and agreeable writer, having translated his work in her Goethe and his Contemporaries, a compliment which the numerous Greek and Latin notes of Riemer would have effectually precluded her from conferring on the latter, even had she been disposed to do so; or had his book been as attractive in every other respect as Falk's.

When it is borne in mind that most of the various translators of Goethe differ and quarrel with each other in a similar manner-scarcely any two of them agreeing as to what the poet means in any remarkable passage of his writings— it will not seem strange that the most enlightened public has hitherto failed to understand Goethe. Those who have never read a line of his writings, if any such there are in any enlightened community, must admit that profound, indeed, must be the thinker, who, although dead, so far as he was

mortal, only a few brief years, whom several of our readers have seen and perhaps conversed with, is as great a problem, considered in connection with his multifarious works, as the design and mode of execution of the Pyramids, which for thousands of years have bid defiance to the ravages of time, and which year after year, to the present moment, form the subject of books and pamphlets, by the learned of all nations. In this mysteriousness, which envelops the character of Goethe almost as effectually as the fabled cloak of darkness enveloped the deities of mythological times, Dante alone can be compared to Goethe. No other author has formed the subject of such voluminous commentaries. We are not aware that professorships have yet been established in the principal universities of Germany for the sole purpose of elucidating passages in the works of Goethe, which the public, however enlightened, are not supposed to understand; but that such have been maintained in the principal universities of Italy, for more than a century, for the purpose of explaining the allegories of the Divina Commedia, is familiar to all our readers. Shakespeare needs no such professorships. All can understand him, because his language is the language of nature, as simple and plain as herself, though as full of variety. But the Germans tell us that what is greatest is also most mysterious, if not most incomprehensible; and they go so far as to adduce the Deity as an instance. If man, they say, was created after the likeness of his Maker, the more perfect that likeness is the more divine the man. If this were recognized as a true test of greatness, Germany would have a larger number of great men than all other countries put together, because she has a larger number of authors whose works are so inscrutable that it often puzzles themselves to understand what they write.t

The best explanation of this inability on the part of the public to form a cor rect opinion is that given by Voltaire, namely, that, after all, men reflect little; they read with negligence; they judge with precipitation, and they receive opinions as one receives money-because it is current. "Les hommes réfléchissent peu; ils lisent avec négligence; ils jugent avec précipitation; et ils reçoivent les opinions comme on reçoit la monnaie, parcqu'elle est courante."

+ Menzel was no admirer of the literary fecundity of his countrymen. "We Germans," he says, "do little, but write so much the more. When one of our descend. ants in future centuries shall look back upon the present epoch of German history, he will be apt to find more books than men in our nation. He may march back through past years as through so many repositories. He will say that we have been sleeping, and that books are our dreams. We have made ourselves a nation of scribblers, and might fitly exchange the double eagle for a goose."-Die Deutsche Literatur, von WOLFGANG MENZEL, p. 56.

Before attempting any analysis of the characteristics of Goethe, we will take a brief glance at his early life. No biographical sketch is necessary, in an article of this kind, of an author whose fame is so universal as that of Goethe. If there are any who think the contrary, there are several within their reach. Let it be our duty simply to indicate, in passing, the salient points in our author's character, or, rather, those influences which seem to have had most to do with its formation. The youth of Goethe had nothing to wish for. Every advantage that wealth and birth could afford was within his reach; the best care, the best instruction, the best training; and he took advantage of all. Like most great men, he owed much more to his mother than to his father, although the latter was by no means an ordinary man. He was a leading citizen of Frankfort, one who had travelled much, and thought much; who not only had a good library, and a valuable collection of paintings and sculptures of his own, but knew how to appreciate each. But he did not possess the genial disposition or the higher intellectual gifts of the poet's mother, whom all that knew her declare to be a woman of a superior mind. Riemer tells us, that the father preferred having the future poet instructed in the natural sciences, and that the mother preferred the classics. In the latter view, the poet himself concurred, and he exerted himself accordingly; but, as if to effect a compromise between the two parents, he also studied the sciences, though by no means with so much ardor as he did the languages. Of this we have sufficient proof in his works. "From my youth upwards," he says, "have I striven to familiarize myself as much as possible with Grecian art and Grecian spirit, and I am assured, by persons to be depended upon, that I have succeeded pretty well."

Those who desire more conclusive evidence than this may refer to the sixth volume of his complete works, in which, under the head of Greek Literature, he treats with a master's hand such subjects as the Tragic Tetralogy of the Greeks; Parody among the Ancients; the disputed passage in Aristotle as to the object of tragedy; Plato considered as contemporary with a Christian revelation; "Homer once again," and the Phædon and the Bacchanals of Euripides. So conscious was he through life of the benefit he derived from the

That by G. H. Lewes, published by Ticknor & Fields, is, with all its faults, the best in the English language.

study of Greek literature, that he regarded Greek scholarship as a claim to his friendship and sympathy. Indeed, it is for no other reason that he seems first to have taken a liking to Riemer. True, the latter does not say so himself; but he intimates that Falk's ignorance of Greek would have been sufficient by itself to induce Goethe to despise his criticisms. It is to be remarked, besides, that, with scarcely an exception, all with whom the poet formed lasting friendships were more or less deeply imbued with the classic spirit. This is true of Herder, Merk, Wieland, the two Humboldts, Hegel, Varnhagen, Klinger, Moutz, Kniep, Tischbein, and may we not add Carlyle? Some of those whom he disliked were also good Hellenists-such, for example, as the Menzels, Gutzkows, Nicolais, Heines and Börnes; but there was good reason for his dislike of these. It may be doubted whether Homer himself could have been altogether insensible to the violent onslaught of critics like those mentioned.

We do not mean, however, that Goethe was so pedantic and absurd as to become attached to none but Hellenists. Although none loved Greece more than Byron, few knew less about the language of Homer and Plato. But Goethe did not like him anything the less on the latter account. This may be seen from his papers on Don Juan, Manfred, and Cain; in each of which he pays a high compliment to the author. Don Juan was universally condemned in Germany, for its immorality, when it first appeared; even the French were half ashamed to be seen reading it; while at home in England it was a forbidden book. All, indeed, read it, ladies as well as gentlemen; but few had the courage to do so openly. It was while it was thus at once condemned and read with avidity that Goethe had the boldness to translate as many stanzas as would give his numerous admirers a foretaste of its character, at the same time recommending it in no measured terms. And if he alluded to the morality, or, rather, the immorality of it, his remarks were evidently intended to allay, if not altogether to neutralize, the prejudices excited against the poem; for, instead of censuring the latter, he censures the journals of the day, whose standard was not very high in his time. "Upon closer examination, however," he says, "perhaps no particular injury to morality is any longer to be apprehended from reprints of such poems, since poets and writers must work wonders to be more injurious