when they come into Weimar at one gate, are looking for another at which to quit it. For this, I have been for fifty years a favourite writer of that which you are pleased to call the German nation; for this, I have had seat and voice, for twenty or thirty years, in the privy council of Weimar-at last, to be at the mercy of such fellows as these! The devil! That I, at my time of life, should suffer such a trigi-comedy to be played, and act the principal character in it myself, I never could have conceived nor dreamt! You will tell me, I know, that all theatrical affairs are, at bottom, nothing but dirt-for you have looked far enough behind the curtain-and that, therefore, I should do well to let the whole beggarly business go its own way as soon as possible: but I must tell you, in answer, that the intrenchment which a good general defends is also dirt; yet he must not turn his back on it, unless he would have his own honour trodden in the dirt. We are not, for that, to accuse him of any predilection for dirt; and so I hope you will acquit me of any such tastes, on the same grounds."

During the reign of the young Duke of Weimar, that place became the resort of men of genius from all parts of Germany. The most motley of groups was to be found there betimes. The Duke's treasurer used to delight in recounting many items of expenditure paid from the royal funds on behalf of these dependants, such as payments for breeches for so many poets, so many ducats for waistcoats, or shoes and stockings for the use of the literati. The Duke passed a great deal of his time with the intellectual circle, with which his court was always crowded, and his maitre d'hotel frequently received a nocturnal summons to prepare, by the next morning, a sumpter waggon, or travelling kitchen, for that the court would start on an excursion at the earliest dawn. In the morning the company sallied forth for the neighbouring forest, where they mixed in merry groups, and passed their time delightfully. One of the staple amusements of these gipsy parties was a drama of a greater or less kind. The theatres consisted of some beautiful spots where imposing scenery abounded, and at Ettersburgh, the traces of these forest stages are still pointed out. Wieland used to tell very humourously an anecdote about Goethe. The venerable Gleim came to Weimar after having read Werther, and hoped to be able to see the promising young author. He brought with him the last Gottingen almanack, and was reading it to the company where he had been invited to spend the evening, when a young man, booted and spurred, dressed in a short green shooting jacket, which was thrown open, entered the room, and mingled with the audience. After listening for some time with great attention, the sportsman rose from his chair, and bowing with great courtesy, offered to relieve Gleim in the duty which he had undertaken of reader to the company. The old gentleman could not resist a proposal so liberally made, and he placed the almanack in the hands of the stranger, who began forthwith to proceed where

Gleim had left off. "But oh! Apollo and all ye Muses-not forgetting the Graces," exclaimed Wieland, telling the story after old Gleim's fashion, "what was I then to hear?" At first, the young man read smoothly enough, and no one could complain that any portion of the beauties of the pieces read, lost their effect from not being conveyed to the audience with due emphasis. "All at once," used old Gleim to say, "it was as if some wild and wanton devil had taken possession of the young reader, and I saw the Wild Huntsman himself before me in his own person!" The fact was, that Goethe, for such was the real name of the pretended sportsman, took up the office of reader for the purpose of having a little fun; for he poured forth all manner of poetry, hexameters, doggrel verses, iambics, and lyrics, in the greatest profusion, pretending that he read them from the almanack, at the same time that they were merely the creatures of his own brain. Gleim used to add, that in the midst of the wild and humourous fantasies with which Goethe treated his audience that night, he heard many detached bursts of magnificent thoughts, such as would have made the persons to whom Goethe attributed them, go down on their knees and thank God for such favours. At last, Gleim turned round to Wieland, who was present in the company where this exhibition was going on, and exclaimed, "This is either Goethe or the devil!” "Both," declared Wieland," Goethe has the devil in him again to-day."

The characteristics of Goethe which we have hitherto been considering, belong to that class which are distinguished by Mrs. Austin under the head of "Goethe pourtrayed from familiar personal intercourse." Before concluding this branch, it is proper to notice some particulars which have been given, under very interesting_circumstances, of the person and habits of Goethe. A young German student made a journey to Weimar in 1822, for the purpose of gratifying his longing desire to see the great poet. He walked about the residence of Goethe for upwards of two months, without being able to gratify his curiosity, until at last he prevailed on a neighbour of the famous lion to allow him to look over his wall. This he received full liberty to do, and having taken his station, on the very day he obtained the privilege, he enjoyed a full view of Goethe in his garden. We shall give the description, not only as the subject itself is interesting, but also as a specimen of the temper and feeling of a German boy, who had only attained sixteen years of age:

Dearest friend, be well assured Goethe's greatness manifests itself in his whole form and aspect. He is hale and active as a man of forty. His majestic gait, his straight and lofty forehead, the noble form of his head, his fiery eye, arched nose-all about him cries aloud, Faust, Margarethe, Götz, Iphigenic, Tasso, and I know not what besides. Never did I see so handsome and vigourous a man of so advanced an age. "I see him, when the weather is fine, daily in his garden; and that is

as great a delight and amusement to me, as it is to others to look at busts, and fine pictures, and beautiful engravings. You may believe me or not, as you please; but when I tell you that I had rather see him than all the engravings and pictures in the world, I tell you only the pure and naked truth.

"He usually goes up and down the garden-walks with slow steps, without sitting; but often stops over against some plant or flower, and stands still for half an hour at a time, observing or meditating. Could I but guess his thoughts and his discourse with himself at such moments! Then, when he turns away from the plants and flowers, he sometimes goes to play with his sweet grand-children.

I speak with Goethe through my eyes, though he sees me not; for I stand behind a hedge, hidden from him by the bushes. This all sounds very strange and romantic, but it is truly thus. And, indeed, thus is it well; and better than if I had really seen him and spoken with him ;-I well know why. For suppose he condescended to talk with me,-what in all the world could a boy of sixteen, like me, be to him in conversation? He talk to me ! He has something better to do, indeed!

"Oh, my most honoured friend, if you were but here for once-in the garden, and by my side! How happy shall I be when it is really spring; when the buds burst: then will I diligently watch Goethe's conversation with the flowers, and the birds, and the light, in his nearer intercourse with nature; and I will write you all that I know about it, and all that I can so much as guess." Yours," &c.-vol. ii. pp. 102–104.

After having thus seen Goethe contemplated in all the bearings of his character, as that character was appreciated by his intimate friends, we are next led to regard him in the light of a man of action. The materials for this illustration are deduced from the speech spoken by the Chancellor of Weimar, Von Muller, at Erfurt, on the 12th September, 1832, at a meeting of the Academy of Useful Sciences. But there is nothing material in the statement of the chancellor, concerning Goethe, which is not afterwards more fully detailed in the early portion of the third volume, entitled, "Notes on Goethe," and even these are only extracted from the Bibliotheque Universelle de Geneve. In the notes will be found a long enumeration of the principal works of this great author, as well as a copious account of the chief events of his life; but the portion which deserves most attention, on the score of novelty, is the defence of Goethe against the charges of servility to those in power, and of his illiberality in his views of popular rights. The writer of the article begins by assuring us, that his hero had a decided aversion to all violent shocks, particularly in settled governments. At the same time he was an enthusiastic stickler for reform, and hailed every fresh accession of light on the human race with a sort of transport. That Goethe had a love of improvement, and that he sympathised very cordially with his kind, are facts established beyond all doubt by the reform which he established in the government of his country. In Weimar, he founded a most excellent institution, called the Free School of Design, which was destined to have the effect of continually bringing forward useful talent and

skill, and of diffusing amongst the inferior classes a taste for art and science. The sphere of activity for the mind was still more nobly extended by Goethe in a plan, in which he was joined by his friend Meyer, of giving prizes for attempts in the art of design. The prizes were given annually, and produced a degree of competition which was attended with a vast diffusion of a spirit of industry amongst the people of Germany. But the merits and faults of Goethe, as a writer and politician, have been frequently and amply discussed in this country. His personal and private history are less known amongst us.

Goethe was always happiest when he was in the society of his daughter in-law and grand-children. He had them about him in all his leisure moments, and always betrayed for them a deep and tender attachment. His daughter-in-law proved, by the sincerity and continuance of her attentions, a source of consolation and comfort to his declining years. From his earliest youth, Goethe's mind had to endure a struggle between two adverse influences-his ever-active fancy, and his pure love of nature. By the balance in which he was held by the opposing forces, was Goethe enabled to maintain an extraordinary serenity. Whilst, as a youth, he delighted in the fairy scenes which his imagination had hourly raised before his delighted eyes, he yet was induced to deliberate and set himself practically to the troublesome duty of seeking an explanation for every natural phenomenon that caught his attention. As an evidence of the sound views which he adopted of civil life, Goethe, though having reason to be confident of his mental strength, still saw the necessity of taking advantage of the general prejudices of mankind. It was, therefore, with great pleasure that he accepted the invitation of the reigning duke to go to Weimar, well knowing how much his reputation as a poet, the great object of his ambition, would be served by his attainment of an honourable station in society.

It is well known that Goethe was, after Linnæus, the botanist who explained satisfactorily the principles of that strange process of metamorphosis by which the progress of the individuals forming the vegetable kingdom, from infancy to maturity, is effected. By the theory which was so ably and beautifully established by Goethe, the various organs of plants are each only modifications of leaves. It is for the discovery of the true construction of the pistillum, as being formed of a leaf, that modern botanists agree in conceding so much credit to Goethe. In his history of his studies of the vegetable kingdom, he describes his taste for the pursuit to have been awakened during his free and joyous career as a hunter. This taste was further stimulated by friendly intercourse with scientific men; and thus was it that botany seduced into her service a genius which has done so much for the elucidation of her curious mysteries.

The last moments of Goethe were by no means the least interesting or instructive of his life. To the end he retained the full

power of his faculties, the exercise of which was only rarely interrupted by intervals of dreamy speculations, which were by no means uncommon to Goethe, even in his most vigorous days. Our authority above-mentioned, the Genevese publication, contains the following details of his last moments:

He repeatedly astonished those around him by the activity of his mind, by his return to reading and occupation whenever he felt himself at all better, by his felicitous and profound remarks. Though no one was permitted to enter his room, except his daughter-in-law, the children, and the physician, he kept up his communication with the world without, occupying himself with things which had interested the grand duchess inquiring with a sort of solicitude about friends, whom he regretted he could not receive, but whom he loved to know in the house; showing the greatest tenderness for his grand children and their mother, whose indefatigable cares soothed his last moments. The name of Ottilia wandered over his lips when he thought she was not at his side. During the six days of his short but fatal illness, he betrayed no symptom of anxiety as to its possible termination: once only he seemed to fear, being threatened with a vomiting of blood, and desired that, if it came on, they would not hesitate to bleed him. But all his conversation showed that if he felt himself dying, he did not fear death. Faithful to his principles, he constantly occupied himself, that he might not give the thinking faculty time to grow dull and inactive. Even when he had lost the power of speaking, his hand preserved the character of his life; his voice was mute, but he traced characters in the air;-and when his hand sank slowly on his knee, the radiant star had sunk beneath our horizon.

It is needless to speak of the effect of Goethe's death upon all classes of society, nor the intense interest evinced by all the people of Weimer during his illness. Up to his latest moment he continued to receive from the ducal family, proofs of the affection which had bound him to their prede

cessors.

Just before he expired the grand duke was in the house, and expressed a strong desire to be allowed to see him once more, and to speak some last words of love and consolation to him. A few moments afterwards Dr. Eckermann quoted to the friends assembled in the adjoining room the two last lines of Faust:

"Es kann die Spur von meinen Erdetagen
Nicht in Æonen unterghen."

At that moment Goethe breathed his last.

His funeral, which was described in all the public papers, was such as befitted his station and his fame. The grand duke gave immediate orders for the execution of his predecessor's desire. The remains of the great poet were deposited in the royal vault, by the side of the master and of the friend he loved so well-Carl-August and Schiller.

"In death they were not divided."-pp. 91-94.

The plan, as a mere theoretical project of the present work, we now repeat, is one that might be turned to valuable account: but it is with deep regret that we state it as our opinion, that the execution of it is by no means entitled to an equal tribute of appro