of the people has been war, as in infant Rome, or where a vast pacific population has been for ages inured to mechanical drudgery, as in China—it is needless to say, that very opposite notions of what conduces to delight and amusement must necessarily prevail; and that the Taste of the nation must be affected both by the sentiments which it has been taught to cultivate, and the capacities it has been led to unfold. The influence of early models, however, is perhaps the most considerable of any; and may be easily enough understood. When men have been accustomed to any particular kind of excellence, they naturally become good judges of it, and account certain considerable degrees of it indispensable,-while they are comparatively blind to the merit of other good qualities to which they had been less habituated, and are neither offended by their absence, nor at all skilful in their estimation. Thus those nations who, like the English and the Dutch, have been long accustomed to great cleanliness and order in their persons and dwellings, naturally look with admiration on the higher displays of those qualities, and are proportionally disgusted by their neglect; while they are apt to undervalue mere pomp and stateliness, when destitute of these recommendations: and thus also the Italians and Sicilians, bred in the midst of dirt and magnificence, are curiously alive to the beauties of architecture and sculpture, and make but litle account of the more homely comforts which are so highly prized by the others. In the same way, if a few of the first successful adventurers in art should have excelled in any particular qualities, the taste of their nation will naturally be moulded on that standard-will regard those qualities almost exclusively as entitled to admiration, and will not only consider the want of them as fatal to all pretensions to excellence, but will unduly despise and undervalue other qualities, in themselves not less valuable, but with which their national models had not happened to make them timeously familiar. If, for example, the first great writers in any country should have distinguished themselves by a pompous and severe regularity, and a certain elaborate simplicity of design and execution, it will naturally follow, that the national taste will not only become critical and rigorous as to those particulars, but will be proportionally deadened to the merit of vivacity, nature, and invention, when combined with irregularity, homeliness, or confusion. While, if the great patriarchs of letters had excelled in variety and rapidity of invention, and boldness and truth of sentiment, though poured out with considerable disorder and incongruity of manner, those qualities would quickly come to be the national criterion of merit, and the correctness and decorum of the other school be despised, as mere recipes for monotony and tameness. These, we think, are the plain and certain effects of the peculiar character of the first great popular writers of all countries. But still we do not conceive that they depend al together on any thing so purely accidental as the temperament or early history of a few individuals. No doubt the national taste of France and of England would at this moment have been different, had Shakespeare been a Frenchman, and Boileau and Racine written in English. But then, we do not think that Shakespeare could have been a Frenchman; and we conceive that his character, and that of other original writers, though no doubt to be considered on the whole as casual, must yet have been modified to a great extent by the circumstances of the countries in which they were bred. It is plain that no original force of genius could have enabled Shakespeare to write as he had done, if he had been born and bred among the Chinese or the Peruvians. Neither do we think that he could have done so, in any other country but England—free, sociable, discursive, reformed, familiar England-whose motley and mingling population not only presented "every change of manycoloured life" to his eye, but taught and permitted every class, from the highest to the lowest, to know and to estimate the feelings and the habits of all the others-and thus enabled the gifted observer not only to deduce the true character of human nature from this infinite variety of experiments and examples, but to speak to the sense and the hearts of each, with that truly universal tongue, which every one feels to be peculiar, and all enjoy as common. We have said enough, however, or rather too much, on these general views of the subject-which in truth is sufficiently clear in those extreme cases, where the contrariety is great and universal, and is only perplexing when there is a pretty general conformity both in the causes which influence taste and in the results. Thus, we are not at all surprised to find the taste of the Japanese or the Iroquois very different from our own-and have no difficulty in both admitting that our human nature and human capacities are substantially the same, and in referring this discrepancy to the contrast that exists in the whole state of society, and the knowledge, and the opposite qualities of the objects to which we have been respectively accustomed to give our admiration. That nations living in times or places altogether remote, should disagree in taste, as in every thing else, seems to us quite natural. They are only the nearer cases that puzzle. And, that great European countries, peopled by the same mixed races, educated in the admiration of the same classical models-venerating the same remains of antiquity-engaged substantially in the same occupations-communicating every day, on business, letters, and society-bound up in short in one great commonwealth, as against the inferior and barbarous parts of the world, should yet differ so widely-not only as to the comparative excellence of their respective productions, but as to the constituents of excellence in all works of genius or skill, does indeed sound like a paradox, the solution of which every one may not be able to deduce from the preceding observations. according to our own principles of judgment and habits of feeling; and, meaning nothing less than to dictate to the readers or the critics of Germany what they should think of their favourite authors, propose only to let them know, in all plainness and modesty, what we, and we really believe most of our countrymen, actually think of this chef-d'œuvre of Teutonic genius. The great practical equation on which we in this country have been hitherto most frequently employed, has been between our own standard of taste and that which is recognized among our neighbours of France:-And certainly, though feelings of rivalry have somewhat aggravated its apparent, beyond its real amount, there is a great and substantial difference to be accounted for,-in the way we have We must say, then, at once, that we cannot suggested—or in some other way. Stating that enter into the spirit of this German idolatry; difference as generally as possible, we would nor at all comprehend upon what grounds the say, that the French, compared with ourselves, work before us could ever be considered as are more sensitive to faults, and less trans- an admirable, or even a commendable perported with beauties-more enamoured of art, formance. To us it certainly appears, after and less indulgent to nature-more charmed the most deliberate consideration, to be emiwith overcoming difficulties, than with that nently absurd, puerile, incongruous, vulgar, power which makes us unconscious of their and affected; and, though redeemed by conexistence-more averse to strong emotions, or siderable powers of invention, and some traits at least less covetous of them in their intensity of vivacity, to be so far from perfection, as to -more students of taste, in short, than adorers be, almost from beginning to end, one flagrant of genius-and far more disposed than any offence against every principle of taste, and other people, except perhaps the Chinese, to every just rule of composition. Though indicircumscribe the rules of taste to such as they cating, in many places, a mind capable both themselves have been able to practise, and to of acute and profound reflection, it is full of limit the legitimate empire of genius to the mere silliness and childish affectation;—and provinces they have explored. There has though evidently the work of one who had been a good deal of discussion of late years, seen and observed much, it is throughout alin the face of literary Europe, on these de- together unnatural, and not so properly im batable grounds; and we cannot but think probable, as affectedly fantastic and absurd— that the result has been favourable, on the kept, as it were, studiously aloof from general whole, to the English, and that the French or ordinary nature-ever once bringing us have been compelled to recede considerably into contact with real life or genuine character from many of their exclusive pretensions-a-and, where not occupied with the profes result which we are inclined to ascribe, less to the arguments of our native champions, than to those circumstances in the recent history of Europe, which have compelled our ingenious neighbours to mingle more than they had ever done before with the surrounding nations and thus to become better acquainted with the diversified forms which genius and talent may assume. But while we are thus fairly in the way of settling our differences with France, we are little more than beginning them, we fear, with Germany; and the perusal of the extraordinary volumes before us, which has suggested all the preceding reflections, has given us, at the same time, an impression of such radical, and apparently irreconcilable disagreement as to principles, as we can scarcely hope either to remove by our reasonings, or even very satisfactorily to account for by our suggestions. This is allowed, by the general consent of all Germany, to be the very greatest work of their very greatest writer. The most original, the most varied and inventive,—the most characteristic, in short, of the author, and of his country. We receive it as such accordingly, with implicit faith and suitable respect; and have perused it in consequence with very great attention and no common curiosity. We have perused it, indeed, only in the translation of which we have prefixed the title: But it is a translation by a professed admirer; and by one who is proved by his Preface to be a person of talents, and by every part of the work to be no ordinary master, at least of one of the languages with which he has to deal. We need scarcely say, that we profess to judge of the work only sional squabbles, paltry jargon, and scenical It is not very easy certainly to account for these incongruities, or to suggest an intelligible theory for so strange a practice. But in so far as we can guess, these peculiarities of German taste are to be referred, in part, to the comparative newness of original composition among that ingenious people, and to the state of European literature when they first ventured on the experiment-and in part to the state of society in that great country itself, and the comparatively humble condition of the greater part of those who write, or to whom writing is there addressed. The Germans, though undoubtedly an ima ginative and even enthusiastic race, had ne- | by not being altogether intelligible—effectuglected their native literature for two hundred ally excluded monotony by the rapidity and years and were chiefly known for their violence of their transitions, and promised to learning and industry. They wrote huge rouse the most torpid sensibility, by the vioLatin treatises on Law and Theology-and lence and perseverance with which they thunput forth bulky editions and great tomes of dered at the heart. They were the very annotations on the classics. At last, however, things, in short, which the German originals they grew tired of being respected as the were in search of;-and they were not slow, learned drudges of Europe, and reproached therefore, in adopting and improving on them. with their consonants and commentators; and In order to make them thoroughly their own, determined, about fifty years ago, to show they had only to exaggerate their peculiarities what metal they were made of, and to give -to mix up with them a certain allowance the world a taste of their quality, as men of of their old visionary philosophy, misty metagenius and invention. In this attempt the physics, and superstitious visions and to infirst thing to be effected was at all events to troduce a few crazy sententious theorists, to avoid the imputation of being scholastic imi- sprinkle over the whole a seasoning of rash tators of the classics. That would have smelt speculation on morality and the fine arts. too much, they thought, of the old shop; and The style was also to be relieved by a vain order to prove their claims to originality, it riety of odd comparisons and unaccountable was necessary to go a little into the opposite similes-borrowed, for the most part, from extreme, to venture on something decidedly low and revolting objects, and all the better modern, and to show at once their indepen- if they did not exactly fit the subject, or even dence on their old masters, and their supe- introduced new perplexity into that which riority to the pedantic rules of antiquity. they professed to illustrate. With this view some of them betook themselves to the French models-set seriously to study how to be gay-appendre à être vif-and composed a variety of petites pieces and novels of polite gallantry, in a style-of which we shall at present say nothing. This manner, however, ran too much counter to the general character of the nation to be very much followed-and undoubtedly the greater and better part of their writers turned rather to us, for hints and lessons to guide them in their ambitious career. There was a greater original affinity in the temper and genius of the two nations and, in addition to that consideration, our great authors were indisputably at once more original and less classical than those of France. England, however, we are sorry to say, could furnish abundance of bad as well as of good models-and even the best were perilous enough for rash imitators. As it happened, however, the worst were most generally selected-and the worst parts of the good. Shakespeare was admired-but more for his flights of fancy, his daring improprieties, his trespasses on the borders of absurdity, than for the infinite sagacity and rectifying good sense by which he redeemed those extravagancies, or even the profound tenderness and simple pathos which alternated with the lofty soaring or dazzling imagery of his style. Altogether, however, Shakespeare was beyond their rivalry; and although Schiller has dared, and not ingloriously, to emulate his miracles, it was plainly to other merits and other rivalries that the body of his ingenious countrymen aspired. The ostentatious absurditythe affected oddity-the pert familiarity-the broken style, and exaggerated sentiment of Tristram Shandy-the mawkish morality, dawdling details, and interminable agonies of Richardson-the vulgar adventures, and home- We really cannot well account for this exly, though, at the same time, fantastical specu- traordinary taste. But we suspect it is owing lations of John Buncle and others of his for- to the importance that is really attached to gotten class, found far more favour in their those solid comforts and supplies of neceseyes. They were original, startling, unclas-saries, by the greater part of the readers and sical, and puzzling. They excited curiosity writers of that country. Though there is a This goes far, we think, to explain the absurdity, incongruity, and affectation of the works of which we are speaking/ But there is yet another distinguishing quality for which we have not accounted-and that is a peculiar kind of vulgarity which pervades all their varieties, and constitutes, perhaps, their most repulsive characteristic. We do not know very well how to describe this unfortunate peculiarity, except by saying that it is the vulgarity of pacific, comfortable burghers, occupied with stuffing, cooking, and providing for their coarse personal accommodations. There certainly never were any men of genius who condescended to attend so minutely to the non-naturals of their heroes and heroines as the novelists of modern Germany. Their works smell, as it were, of groceries-of brown papers filled with greasy cakes and slices of bacon, and fryings in frowsy back parlours. All the interesting recollections of childhood turn on remembered tidbits and plunderings of savoury store-rooms. In the midst of their most passionate scenes there is always a serious and affectionate notice of the substantial pleasures of eating and drinking. The raptures of a tête-a-tête are not complete without a bottle of nice wine and a "trim collation." Their very sages deliver their oracles over a glass of punch; and the enchanted lover finds new apologies for his idolatry in taking a survey of his mistress' "combs, soap, and towels, with the traces of their use." These baser necessities of our nature, in short, which all other writers who have aimed at raising the imagination or touching the heart have kept studiously out of view, are ostentatiously brought forward, and fondly dwelt on by the pathetic authors of Germany. great deal of freedom in Germany, it operates to give of it by a few extracts. Wilhelm is less by raising the mass of the people to a describing the dress of the prophet Samuel in potential equality with the nobles, than by his Punch's Opera of Goliah, and telling "how securing to them their inferior and plebeian the taffeta of the cassock had been taken from privileges; and consists rather in the immu- a gown of his grandmother's," when a noise nities of their incorporated tradesmen, which is heard in the street, and the old maid Barmay enable them to become rich as such, than bara informs them that in any general participation of national rights, "The disturbance arose from a set of jolly comby which they may aspire to dignity and ele-panions, who were just then sallying out of the gance, as well as opulence and comfort. Now, Italian Tavern, hard by, where they had been busy the writers, as well as the readers in that discussing fresh oysters, a cargo of which had just country, belong almost entirely to the plebeian arrived, and by no means sparing their champagne. and vulgar class. Their learned men are 'Pity,' Mariana said, that we did not think of it almost all wofully poor and dependent; and in time; we might have had some entertainment to ourselves. It is not yet too late,' said Wilhelm, the comfortable burghers, who buy entertain- giving Barbara a louis d'or: get us what we want; ing books by the thousand at the Frankfort then come and take a share with us.' The old fair, probably agree with their authors in noth- dame made speedy work; ere long a trimly-covered ing so much as the value they set on those table, with a neat collation, stood before the lovers. homely comforts to which their ambition is They made Barbara sit with them; they ate and drank, and enjoyed themselves. On such occa. mutually limited by their condition; and enter sions, there is never want of enough to say. Mariinto no part of them so heartily as those which ana soon took up little Jonathan again, and the old set forth their paramount and continual im- dame turned the conversation upon Wilhelm's portance. favourite topic. You were telling us,' she said, about the first exhibition of a puppet-show on Christmas-eve: I remember you were interrupted, just as the ballet was going to begin.' 'I assure you,' said Wilhelm, 'it went off quite well. And certainly the strange caperings of these Moors and Mooresses, these shepherds and shepherdesses, these dwarfs and dwarfesses, will never altogether &c. &c. leave my recollection while I live,' It is time, however, that we should proceed to give some more particular account of the work which has given occasion to all these observations. Nor indeed have we anything more of a general nature to premise, except that we really cannot join in the censure which we have found so generally bestowed on it for its alleged grossness and immorality. It is coarse, certainly, in its examples, and by no means very rigorous in its ethical precepts. But it is not worse in those respects than many works on which we pride ourselves at homeTom Jones, for example, or Roderick Random. There are passages, no doubt, that would shock a delicate young lady; but to the bulk of male readers, for whom we suppose it was chiefly intended, we do not apprehend that it will either do any great harm, or give any great offence. We spare our readers some dozen pages of doll-dressing and joinery, and come to the following choice passage. "In well adjusted and regulated houses,' continued Wilhelm, children have a feeling not unlike what I conceive rats and mice to have; they keep a sharp eye on all crevices and holes, where they may come at any forbidden dainty, they enjoy it also with a fearful, stolen satisfaction, which forms than any other of the young ones, I was in the habit no small part of the happiness of childhood. More of looking out attentively to see if I could notice any cupboard left open, or key standing in its lock. Wilhelm Meister is the son of a plodding The more reverence I bore in my heart for those merchant, in one of the middling towns of closed doors, on the outside of which I had to pass Germany, who, before he is out of his ap-glance when our mother now and then opened the by for weeks and months, catching only a furtive prenticeship, takes a passion for play-going; consecrated place to take something from it,-the which he very naturally follows up by en- quicker was I to make use of any opportunities gaging in an intrigue with a little pert actress, which the forgetfulness of our housekeepers at times who performed young officers and other male afforded me. Among all the doors, that of the storeparts with great success. The book opens room was, of course, the one I watched most narwith a supper at her lodgings; where he tells her a long silly story of his passion for puppetshows in his childhood-how he stole a set of puppets out of a pantry of his mother's, into which he had slipped to filch sugar-plumshow he fitted up a puppet-show of his own, in a garret of his father's house, and enacted David and Goliah, to the wonder and delight of the whole family, and various complaisant neighbours, who condescended to enact audience-how a half-pay lieutenant assisted him in painting the figures and nailing up the boards and how out of all this arose his early taste for playhouses and actresses. This goodly stuff extends through fifty mortal pages all serious, solemn, and silly, far beyond the pitch of the worst gilt thing ever published by Mr Newberry. As this is one of the most characteristic parts of the work, we must verify the account we have ventured rowly. Few of the joyful anticipations in life can equal the feeling which I used to have, when my mother happened to call me, that I might help her to carry out any thing, after which I might pick up a few dried plums, either with her kind permission, or by help of my own dexterity. The accumulated treasures of this chamber took hold of my imagination by their magnitude; the very fragrance exhaled by so multifarious a collection of sweet-smelling spices produced such a craving effect on me, that I never failed, when passing near, to linger for a little, and regale myself at least on the unbolted atmos phere. At length, one Sunday morning, my mobells, forgot to take this precious key with her on ther, being hurried by the ringing of the churchshutting the door, and went away leaving all the house in a deep sabbath stillness. No sooner had I marked this oversight, than gliding softly once or twice to and from the place, I at last approached very gingerly, opened the door, and felt myself, manifold and long-wished-for means of happiness. after a single step, in immediate contact with these I glanced over glasses, chests, and bags, and drawers and boxes, with a quick and doubtful eye, consider whatever catches the eye and possesses at the same "A peculiar inclination for magnificence, for time real worth and durability. In his house, he would have all things solid and massive; his stores must be copious and rich, all his plate must be heavy, the furniture of his table must be costly. On the other hand, his guests were seldom invited; for every dinner was a festival, which, both for its expense and for its inconvenience, could not often be repeated. The economy of his house went on at a settled uniform rate, and every thing that moved or had a place in it was just what yielded no one any real enjoyment. ing what I ought to take; turned finally to my dear | an elaborate character of the worthy old trader withered plums, provided myself also with a few and his partner. Old Meister, it seems, had dried apples, and completed the forage with an orange-chip. I was quietly retreating with my plunder, when some little chests, lying piled over one another, caught my attention: the more so, as I noticed a wire with hooks at the end of it, sticking through the joint of the lid in one of them. Full of eager hopes, I opened this singular package; and judge of my emotions, when I found my glad world of heroes all sleeping safe within! I meant to pick out the topmost, and, having examined them, to pull up those below; but in this attempt the wires got very soon entangled, and I fell into a fright and flutter, more particularly as the cook just then began making some stir in the kitchen, which lay close by; so that I had nothing for it but to squeeze the whole together, the best way I could, and to shut the chest, having stolen from it nothing but a little written book, which happened to be lying above, and contained the whole drama of Goliah and David. With this booty I made good my retreat into the garret.' "-pp. 20-22. The elder Werner, in his dark and hampered house, led quite another sort of life. The business cient desk, once done, Werner liked to eat well and of the day, in his narrow counting-room, at his anif possible to drink better. Nor could he fully enjoy good things in solitude; with his family he must always see at table his friends and any stranger that had the slightest connection with his house. This, we suppose, will be received as a His chairs were of unknown age and antic fashion, sufficient specimen of the true German taste but he daily invited some to sit on them. The dainty for comfits, cooking, and cockering. If any victuals arrested the attention of his guests, and one should wish for a sample of pure childish-none remarked that they were served up in common ware. His cellar held no great stock of wine: ness, or mere folly, there are pages on pages but the emptied niches were usually filled by more like the following. of a superior sort."-pp. 56, 57. This must be admitted not to be the very best exemplification of the style noble. Nor is the outfit of the hero himself described in a vein more lofty. "He must prepare," said Meister, "and set forth as soon as possible. Where shall we get a horse for him to suit this business?-We shall not seek far. The shopkeeper in H, who owes us somewhat, but is withal a good man, has offered me a horse instead of payment. My son knows it, and tells me it is a serviceable beast. He may fetch it himself; let him go with the diligence; the day after to-morrow he is back again betimes; we have his saddle-bags and letters made ready in the mean time; he can set out Monday morning." The following passage, however, is a fairer sample of the average merit of the work; and exhibits some traits of vivacity and eloquence, though debased by that affectation of singularity, and that predominating and characteristic vulgarity, of which we have already said so much. He is describing his hero's hours of fascination, in the playhouse, and elsewhere. "It was natural that the operas, with their manifold adventures and vicissitudes, should attract me more than any thing beside. In these compositions, I found stormy seas; gods descending in chariots of cloud; and, what most of all delighted me, abundance of thunder and lightning. I did my best with pasteboard, paint, and paper: I could make night very prettily; my lightning was fearful to behold; only my thunder did not always prosper, which however was of less importance. In operas, moreover, I found frequent opportunities of introducing my David and Goliah, persons whom the regular drama would hardly admit. Daily I felt more attachment for the hampered spot where I erjoyed so many pleasures; and, I must confess, the fragrance which the puppets had acquired from the store-room added not a little to my satisfaction. 'The decorations of my theatre were now in a tolerable state of completeness. I had always had the nack of drawing with compasses, and clipping pasteboard, and colouring figures; and here it served me in good stead. But the more sorry was I, on the other hand, when, as frequently happened, my stock of actors would not suffice for representing great affairs. My sisters dressing and undressing their dolls, awoke in me the project of furnishing my heroes by and by with garments, which might also be put off and on. Accordingly, I slit the "For hours he would stand by the sooty light scraps of cloth from off their bodies; tacked the fragments together as well as possible; saved a par- frame, inhaling the vapour of tallow lamps, lookticle of money to buy new ribbons and lace; beg-ing out at his mistress; and when she returned and ged many a rag of taffeta; and so formed, by degrees, a full theatrical wardrobe, in which hooppetticoats for the ladies were especially remembered.—My troop was now fairly provided with dresses for the most important piece, and you might have expected that henceforth one exhibition would follow close upon the heels of another. But it happened with me, as it often happens with children; they embrace wide plans, make mighty preparations, then a few trials, and the whole undertaking is abandoned. I was guilty of this fault,'" &c. &c. But we must get on with our story, While he is lulling his little actress to sleep by these edifying discourses, and projecting to go on the stage along with her, our mercantile hero is suddenly sent off by his father, to collect debts from their country customers. The ingenious author, however, cannot possibly let him go, without presenting his readers with cast a kindly glance upon him, he was himself lost in ecstacy, and, though close upon laths and bare spars, he seemed transported into paradise. The stuffed bunches of wool denominated lambs, the water-falls of tin, the paper roses, and the onesided huts of straw, awoke in him fair poetic visions of an old pastoral world. Nay, the very dancing girls, ugly as they were when seen at hand, did not always inspire him with disgust. They trod the same floor with Mariana. So true is it, that love, which alone can give their full charm to rosecommunicate, even to shavings of wood and paper bowers, myrtle-groves, and moonshine, can also clippings, the aspect of animated nature. It is so strong a spice, that tasteless, or even nauseous soups, are by it rendered palatable! So potent a spice was certainly required to renwhich he usually found her chamber, not to say der tolerable, nay at last agreeable, the state in herself.-Brought up in a substantial burgher's house, cleanliness and order were the element in K |