The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser. — Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-07-17 00:00:00

36 This is a strange reception, sir, that my friends have given you. Allow me to explain our position. We are a party of amateur players, delighting in tragedy, comedy, or burletta, and performing French, German, and Italian with the greatest impartiality. To-day we have met here for the purpose of rendering Die Burgoineistre, but unfortunately have lost the services of our chief actor' (here he pointed to a gen tleman whom I had not before observed, and who was lying upon Some cushions in the shade of a lime-tree). ' Our friend, who insisted upon walking part of the way, has sprained his ankle, and is utterly incapaci tated for his theatrical duties. We have no other who can take his place, and if you would favour us by taking the character of Herman at so short a notice, we should all be most heartily obliged by your kindness.' There was something very winning in this gentle man's address—something very new and vivacious in the situation—some very pretty bright-eyed girls among the company ; so I entered heart and soul into their little enterprise, and was received with acclama tions as a newly enrolled member of their society. It happened, fortunately, that I knew a little of the comedy in question. I had seen it twice or thrice upon the stage at Frankfort, and had read it more than once while staying at a dreary village where there was scarcely any books to be got—therefore I did not feel quite so nervous as I otherwise might. And it was well that. I needed no great preparation, for in a very moments after my arrival the audience was marshalled in front ; the actors were assembled at the back of the theatre ; the signal was given; and the play began. I need not now stop to tell you what the piece was like, or whether the plot was sparkling, moving, or profound. It is enough if I say that our spectators wept and smiled alternately ; that our performers were all cordially in earnest ; and that your humble servant acquitted himself very creditably, considering that it was his first appearance upon any stage, and that he had to act with the book in his hand the whole time. The gentleman to whom the theatre seemed to belong ; a fair and dignified lady, whom I conjectured to be his wife ; a plain but intelligent-looking woman with dark eyes ; and the disabled performer, lying still upon cushions, occupied the front places upon the turf. Behind them sat the rest of the party, and the ser vants stood or leaned against the trees at the back. I noticed, by the way, that our heroine, a lovely young woman, with the sweetest voice I ever remember to have heard, seemed particularly concerned for the invalid; that her eyes were certain to stray towards him at every pause in the dialogue ; that a gesture of ap plause from his hand sent the quick colour flying to her cheeks ; and that in all her love-speeches and soli loquies—especially in the former, where she should have addressed herself exclusively to me—her attention was sure to wander in that highly inappropriate direction. At length the curtain fell ; we joined the rest of the party upon the grass ; the servants busied themselves in spreading a cold collation on a shady bank under the lindens ; and we fell into a lively and general con versation. We were very merry. We jested; we laughed; we chinked our glasses together ; and the slender necked Rhine-bottles went swiftly round. The invalid nicknamed me his deputy, and challenged me to take wine with him. Your health, Herr Deputy,' said he, gaily, as he drained the glass. This .old Johannisberger is like a poem of Schiller's or Wieland's—the older it is, the higher its flavour. Viva it vino. You do not include Kotzebue in the compliment, Wolfganc, !' said our entertainer, with a meaning smile. Kotzebue I' echoed the other with a wry face. Kot zebue ! I should say not, indeed. He is more quack than poet, and. more conceited than a peacock. He finds only himself wherever he goes ; and when he arrives at a place, he gives himself not the slightest trouble about heaven or earth, air or water, animal or vegetable. He beholds nothing but 'his own sayings and doings ; even at Tobolsk, he is perfectly certain that all the people are occupied either in translating his plays, studying, acting, or, at the very least re hearsing them 1' There was something remarkable in the appearance of this young man, and I could not keep from looking at him as he lay extended on the grass, his fine head resting on his hand. His countenance was both hand some and intelligent, his nose and mouth beautifully formed, his forehead high, and his eyes a brilliant SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD. black, like those of an Italian. Yet it was scarcely so much the actual features, as the noble character and expression of his physiognomy, that most impressed me ; and I listened to his impetuous and earnest speaking with an interest for which I was puzzled to account. ' Kotzebue,' said the plain lady, who was now seated next to me, ' is the delineator of manners rather than of men.' Say the delineator of crime, Madame !' exclaimed the other. The corruption and profligacy of the higher classes is the line in which Kotzebue excels. True beauty of character possesses no charm for him ; and man as he ought not to be, is held up before us, in preference to man as he should be. Kotzel4ue can not appreciate the true grandeur of the mission of the human being upon earth. Man was the first dialogue that nature held with God. It would be impossible for me to describe the im pressive tone in which these last words were uttered. They thrilled through my frame like the vibration of a string, and I observed that the rest were all listening respectfully, and looked similarly affected. Woolfgang requires every writer to possess so much originality,' said the gentleman, that nothing pleases him. I often congratulate myself that I never at tempted to manufacture a play or a poem, for I know he would have criticised it without mercy !' Originality is but a word,' said the excitable Wolf gang, who seemed to delight in startling paradoxes. ' There is no originality. The greatest genius will never be worth much, if he pretends to draw entirely from his own resources. There are some philosophers who fancy, that by remaining shut up in their study for thirty years without once looking into the world, andexclusively occupied in sifting their own poor brains, they shall find an exhaustless spring of original, grand, and useful conceptions ! Do you know what comes out ? Clouds : nothing but clouds !' For all that,' said the lady whom they called Madame, there can be no gen i us w ith out some of that originality which you affect to despise.' `Pray then, M a d ame , can you tell me what genius is, if it be not the faculty of seizing and turning to ac count everything that strikes us ; of co-ordinating and breathing life into all the materials that present themselves ; and of taking here marble, there brass, and building a lasting monument with them ? A work of genius puts into requisition the works of nature and man, supplied by a thousand different persons and a thou sand different things. The learned, the ignorant, the wise, and the foolish, bring to it unconsciously the offer ing of their thoughts and their experience. They sow the harvest which is reaped by the poet, thephilosopher, the historian, and a great literary chef-d'ceuvre is an aggre gation of beings taken from the whole of nature, and bearing the name of Plato or Shakspeare. Believe me, to be great we must be social. Hercules needs to be fed ; and it is only by mingling with astrologers, botanists, chemists, mathematicians, builders—whom you will.= that the author can collect his raw materials. It is for this reason we find the most truly great characters surrounded by their fellow-men, Plato and Socrates were no hermits ; and Bacon, Camoens, Boccaccio, Dante, were dwellers in cities. ' There, I believe you to be in the right,' said Madame, smiling. ' For myself, I confess lam only vulnerable on the side of Paris, and I think I owe much to that weakness.' Much ! nay, Madame, go one step further, and say —all. It were impossible to say where, or in what object, or trade, or science, ideas the most foreign and opposite to that object, trade, or science, may not be derived. I have seen minerals, mosses, fishes even, that have afforded me the most valuable psychological and physiological hints. These things are the Signa tures of Nature, and he who can decipher them may well afford to dispense with the Written and the Spoken.' It is true,' observed the other young man, who seemed to listen rather than converse—' it is true that a yet undefined chain of relationship appears to run from art to art, from science to science, by which- the one illustrates and mysteriously interprets the other. Thus I have seen a painting that affected me like a poem ; and have heard music that reminded me of places seen in youth, and, until then, forgotten.' Architecture is frozen music,' said Madame, viva ciously. He whom they styled Wolfgang lookedup in delight ' ed approbation. A charming E fin ju ag LY e, ind~ but, claimed ; and one I have sometimes fel never been ableto express. For instance, wilt e i o o l ; Strasburg Cathedral, I was utterly oven" cam, the solemnity and grace of its proportions. , ed they tions of infinite order and harmony pre ~.se'?",,; ir selves to me, and I found them einhoa"; to, c 4 j relation of countless beautifully executed Pa' r ec l 4 l great, consistent, systematic Whole. ..., r o sii' A re there a new revelation of the simple, eternal' jo e l o okt:" laws of nature. It was a s if I w e r e listenia, noble psalm-tune o r c h ora l e by B a ch a r o ftel t he with all its harmonies built up one above tile one sublime unity—or as if I were obser demonstration of a mathematical problem: A ..o.4 l P Many singular instances of the relaV e tiol ) sounds and colour have been recorded,' 0 4 ;J' gravely. I believe a great book upon the e of the arts is yet to be written.' i j st Not only upon the connection of the alt o le ;e t the connection of the arts with man, and,Amtlie the connection of man with nature,' sa*,,tre ti , gentleman. For my part, I never see " j oill 0 0 mountain but I feel as if it asserted some aC 91)etes with me—as if it were a part and parcel ° f an d being. The analogies existent between inne r .1 nature are strange and universal. 4 .,0 1° V Do not omit the analogies between nay, — eoo I pray you,' cried Wolfgang eagerly. tions in this field are so infinite, that they a to lcej, for even the indulgence of humour. Let the tory the parasitical plants : how much of the ti the ludicrous, the bird-like, is observable characteristics ! Their flying seeds perch ur 0 1 ' flies on some tree, and feed upo n it till thePle POt grown. Look only at yonde r p ear -t ree hi l ' i b i ttii; see there, rooted in the b ar k, an d growing. 'ai s nl7 a branch, fro m th e roug h t run k, c li ngs the 1 , 1 cot' t), from which birdlime is made. It is not ev e ,,,poP 6 l,l l ' with fastening itself as a guest, but it ° ° .,:; ) %o l `tr i pear-tree to supply it with wood from 'Val 9" stance. The moss and fungi upon trees he'„ ° same class. Those lindens under which Y‘''' a short time since, abound' -. . , h 0; jo lg He paused suddenly, his eyes fixed ill , --e e cl of which he was speaking. We all iwr in tel'A taneously, and saw that his dideourse Nos, ; F o r i , by the apparition of a tall man, stand- I° l sal l i piel ‘ between our circle and the trees in que stio ce " in, e o watching our proceedings with a countella i ll ,icr,2o° wonder and admiration were ludicrously ° 4 ye" who was devouring every syllable of the with eager attention. 00 6 Whom have we here P' exclaimed onto ¢r rather haughtily, and looking annoyed at : , our pleasant discussion. 1 )°(% r o il A t elf I laughed, and I believe c o l oure d u p, °Le " 1 really did present a somewhat absurd fitylor io e , Why, that gentleman is a friend of P ii r i eet, 4 aq i ce my German tutor—and he is here to — 41 0 `,, f rso came hither for the purpose of passing' a a t, 0 " - r ing the forest, and we agreed to make this s P oo nle la ce of rendezvous. I had then no idea of e',;,cecl the pleasant a party. lam sure I have eo.)" D ° rep ilea , s ol; ing very much.' You are post obliging to say he r yollr. t ail s o ing ; and we are all greatly indebted fe the r fo e bee o ante upon the stage. Perhaps it was ra u id 1 1 140 6 that we did meet, as otherwise you ° , r our very hungry by this time. Pray, irlylY b J er ger., ; a si 3 come over and take a glass of Johaullis. ch he mod, 030 I beckoned to Muller to advance, w° 'his ha ll r se c , e slowly and bashfully, with his hat ill h ad o eve ha to te bowing profoundly at every step• a nd, him so ceremonious or nervous look-befo so foe lo s f truth, I felt really vexed to see hit?. ne w ali o t, Pray approach, Mein Her said TAY t v n 110 Sea'S will ance, still very distantly. ua , . r ‘l Oll take of such refreshment as we w ne. boe' you, and no table but the sward ;iiyaevte....,"l pasty winegoblet f —t h at — ions bem niosetstgrivace est coniusoi stammered the professor iu the dee? Wha t c T oo ye i y s ou y lv ) i u ll r Your most gracious Highness.' y turn a y. mean m I started—coloured UP 111 ' ha t to 5 e P d from one to the other—and kn ew not abi c The prince smiled. ir a dign'''J i ptrou,,,te I suppose; he said, with an a a s, 6 . that todo s ' had not previously assumed, myself; but it was not my intent -I°n •,, It