The Sun.
London, England, 1842-12-06 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

BRITISH AND FOREIGN REVIEW, No. 27.
Taylor, London, 1842.
We had hoped that the Reviewers had taken
leave of Goethe for some years to come, at least,
the subject being one long since exhausted, and
one, too, on which more loose, vague nonsense
has been written than on any other pet topic of
the day ; but we find we were mistaken in our
sanguine expectations, for the Review before us
contains a lengthy and elaborate essay on the
" Character and Writings of Goethe," in which
some ingenious but unsound theories are in-
troduced, and the great German poet regarded
with an air of veneration, as if he occupied a
position midway between man and the Deity.
The Reviewer's chief object seems to be, to
show that Goethe was the very incarnation of
faultless wisdom; and that he had no sensibility
or enthusiasm, chiefly because such weaknesses
were unworthy of an exalted nature like his.
This is a very inefficient apology for a poet's
want of heart. The loftiest spirits have often
the keenest sensibilities, and we find that even
our Saviour did not disdain to drop a tear on the
grave of the humble Lazarus. " Goethe," says
the Reviewer, " had the sound body which is
the foundation of the sound mind. His in-
tellect was eminently healthy—no cant, no
sentimentality, no bigotry were allowed to rest
there. Whatever faults it might have, it
certainly was not diseased. As a first step in
our inquiry, then, we gain this important fact,
that Goethe was a man—a complete, healthy,
vigorous, many-sided, and original man, and not
a diseased, hectic poet—not a rickety, sedentary
professor." Now we certainly cannot subscribe
to this hypothesis, for we hold no man to be
" complete" and " healthy" in his intellectual
capacity, whose sensibilities are so miserably de-
ficient, as seems to have been the case with
Goethe. The healthy nature is the well-ba-
lanced one, where the understanding and the
feelings are in just proportion, where the
former is assisted by, and receives its
colouring from, the other, instead of being
developed to its manifest detriment. Such
a well-proportioned nature was possessed by
Shakspeare, Cervantes, and Scott, but assuredly
not by Goethe—at least, if the present estimate
of him be correct. Subsequently, however, to-
wards the close of this essay, the Reviewer
honestly confesses that he has not made up
his mind "as to many of the contradictions
which puzzle him" in Goethe, and adds,
" we admit that there is something yet un-
explained, or else essentially disagreeable in his
character; something which, with all our ad-
miration, yet repulses our love. He has been ac-
cused of coldness by so many, and such various
people, that we cannot reject the charge without
some weighty reason. There was nothing bound-
ing, spontaneous, or joyous about him. He com-
mitted no faults to demand our pity ; he did
nothing heroic to wring from us applause. He
sits above us, by reason of his commanding in-
tellect, and does not let us approach him
through our common infirmities." This last
passage, it will be observed, tends in some de-
gree to neutralise the spirit of the preceding one.
"Poems, Chiefly ofEarly and Late Years," is a no-
tice of Mr.Wordswort li's last published volume. It
is highly eulogistic; and, in reference to what he
calls the " poetic period" of the great lake bard's
life—that is to say, the period intervening be-
tween 1798 and 1803,—the Reviewer remarks,
" his productions written about this time are
often of a persuasive sweetness almost un-
equalled in English poetry, at any rate since
Shakspeare, or shall we say Herrick. Poems,
spontaneous as the songs of Burns, finished as
those of Horace, worthy of Shakspeare in their
grace, and tenderness, and philosophical insight,
and in their peculiar tone of thought and lan-
guage entirely original, were poured forth at
this time with a copiousness which bespoke a
well-spring." This criticism is just enough,
with the single exception of the word " spon-
taneous," which ought not to have been used
in reference to Mr. Wordsworth's productions.
The character of his genius •is anything but
" spontaneous." Indeed we doubt whether he
ever wrote a " spontaneous" poem in his life.
His best and his worst works equally wear the
appearance of having been the result of much
pAtient, deliberate forethought; and we trace
marks of careful study in the very homeliness
and simplicity of the style of many of them. We
are far frim meaning to say this in disparage-
ment of Mr. Wordsworth's genius, for we agree
in opinion with Sheridan that—except in such
rare instances to the contrary as have been fur-
nished us by Wilson, Scott, Southey, and
Byron, who frequently wrote best what they
wrote quickest—" your easy writing is d—d
hard reading." " Lynch Law" is an attempt at
a defence of this modern innovation on theatrans-
atlantic criminal code ; and we must say that the
Reviewer is successful in demonstrating that it is
in many instances not only justifiable, but indis-
pensably necessary, more particularly in the
case of those infant colonies on the skirts of
vast untrodden forests, which are not yet formally
recognised by the United States, and brought
within the pale of its law. Here, if the commu-
nity needs redress, it must obtain it for itself
in the best way it can ; hence the origin of
Lynch Law, whose great recommendation is, that
it stands on no ceremony, abides by no slow,
circuitous legal forms, but comes to the point at
once. A man, say, has gone off with a fat sheep
from his neighbour's fold, in one of those new-
born settlements whose first log-huts are not yet
displaced by more orthodox architecture. In an
old established colony, this scamp, previous to
acquittal or condemnation, would be put through
a regular systematic course of law; first,
lie would be examined by a Magistrate;
then a Grand Jury would report on his case ;
then indictments would be framed against
him; then two fox-like lawyers would discuss
his guilt or otherwise, in a series of intolerably
prolix speeches; then the Judge would deliver
a formal charge ; and then—and not till then—a
Jury would decide whether the prisoner was
guilty or innocent. Now all this tedious and
vexatious process is saved by Lynch law, which
decides and punishes almost at one and the
same moment. This is the true "go ahead"
principle of justice, which saves a world of
superfluous ceremony, and is admirably suited
to the wants and wishes of American squatters and
backwoodsmen. " Life of Admiral Keppell' is
a passable notice of the memoirs of this staunch
old Whig sailor, whose head once figured on half
the tavern sign-boards in England. " State of
the Nation" is an article penned in a temperate
spirit, and wherein justice is done to the present
Ministry, chiefly, however, as regards their in-
tentions, rather than their acts. The one or two
remaining papers are of average merit.