original this question may appear already pretty well decided: in both languages, it is true, the work is still a fragment, hanging suspended in middle air; but the matchless graces of its workmanship, the calm fulness, the noble simplicity of its style, are, in many points, for the one language only. Nevertheless, I present this work to the English people without reluctance or misgivings, persuaded that though it may be caviare to the general, there are not wanting tastes among us to discern its worth and worthlessness, even under its present disadvantages, and to pronounce truly on both. Of his previous reception in this country, neither Goethe nor his admirers have reason to complain. By all men who have any pretension to depth or sensibility of mind, the existence of a high and peculiar genius has been cheerfully recognised in him ; a fact which, considering the unwonted and in many points forbidding aspect of his chief works, does honour both to the author and his critics; while their often numerous and grave objections have proved only that they had studied him with the cursory eye, which may suffice for cursory writers, but for him is not sufficient, nor likely to be final. In no quarter has there appeared any tendency to wilful unfairness, any jealousy as towards a stranger, any disposition to treat him otherwise than according to his true deserts. Indeed,. wherefore should there? We of England have of all nations, past and present, the least cause to be jealous with this mean jealousy. Our own literature is peopled with kingly names; our language is beautiful with their English intellects and English characters; their works live forever in our hearts. If we cannot love and hold fast our own, and yet be just to others, who is there that can? In soliciting and anticipating a true estimate of Goethe, I have only to wish that the same sentiments may continue with us. For the rest, if it seem that I advocate this cause too warmly; that Goethe's genius, whether it be good or bad, is in truth a very small concern to us, I may be allowed to remind my readers, that the existence or non-existence of a new Poet for the World in our own time, of a new Instructor and Preacher of Truth to all men, is really a question of more importance to us than many that are agitated with far greater noise. FRACTIONS: TRAGEDY OF THE NIGHT-MOTH. 469 II. FRACTIONS. [1823-1833.] I. TRAGEDY OF THE NIGHT-MOTH. Magna ausus. 'Tis placid midnight, stars are keeping But see! a wandering Night-moth enters, With awe she views the candle blazing; To moth-savante with rapture gazing, Or Fount whence Life and Motion streams. What passions in her small heart whirling, She darts and-puff!- the moth is dead! The sullen flame, for her scarce sparkling, Her bright gray form that spread so slimly, Her silky cloak that lay so trimly, Her wee, wee eyes that looked so keen. Last moment here, now gone forever, Poor moth! near weeping I lament thee, Short speck of boundless Space was needed But syren hopes from out thy dwelling Enticed thee, bade thee earth explore,Thy frame so late with rapture swelling, Is swept from earth forevermore! Poor moth! thy fate my own resembles : Like thee, with common lot contented, But Nature's majesty unveiling What seem'd her wildest, grandest charms, Eternal Truth and Beauty hailing, Like thee, I rushed into her arms. What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes, Thy one brief parting pang may show: And thoughts like these, for soul that dashes From deep to deep, are death more slow! II. CUI BONO. What is Hope? A smiling rainbow What is Life? A thawing iceboard What is Man? A foolish baby, Vainly strives, and fights, and frets; III. FOUR FABLES... 1. Once upon a time, a man, somewhat in drink belike, raised a dreadful outcry at the corner of the market-place, "That the world was all turned topsy-turvy; that the men and cattle were all walking with their feet uppermost; that the houses and earth at large (if they did not mind it) would fall into the sky; in short, that unless prompt means were taken, things in general were on the high road to the Devil." As the people only laughed at him, he cried the louder and more vehemently; nay, at last, began objuring, foaming, imprecating; when a good-natured auditor, going up, took the orator by the haunches, and softly inverting his position, set him down on his feet. The which upon perceiving, his mind was staggered not a little. "Ha! deuce take it!" cried he, rubbing his eyes, so it was not the world that was hanging by its feet then, but I that was standing on my head!" Censor, Castigator morum, Radical Reformer, by whatever name thou art called! have a care; especially if thou art getting loud! PILPAY JUNIOR. 2. "Gentlemen," said a conjuror, one fine starry evening, "these heavens are a deceptio visûs; what you call stars are nothing but fiery motes in the air. Wait a little, I will clear them off, and show you how the matter is." Whereupon the artist produced a long syringe of great force; and, stooping over the neighbouring puddle, filled it with mud and dirty water, which he then squirted with might and main against the zenith. The wiser of the company unfurled their umbrellas; but most part, looking up in triumph, cried, "Down with delusion! It is an age of science! Have we not tallow lights then?" Here the mud and dirty water fell, and bespattered and beplastered these simple persons, and even put out the eyes of several, so that they never saw the stars any more. Enlightened Utilitarian! art thou aware that this patent logic-mill of thine, which grindeth with such a clatter, is but a mill? P. J. 3. "It is I that support this household," said a hen one day to herself; "the master cannot breakfast without an egg, for he is dyspeptical and would die, and it is I that lay it. And here is this ugly poodle, doing nothing earthly, and gets thrice the victual I do, and is caressed all day! By the Cock of Minerva, they shall give me a double portion of oats, or they have eaten their last egg!" But much as she cackled and creaked, the scullion would not give her an extra grain; whereupon, in dudgeon, she hid her next egg in the dunghill, and did nothing but cackle and creak all day. The scullion suffered her for a week, then (by order) drew her neck, and purchased other eggs at sixpence the dozen. Man! why frettest thou and whinest thou? This blockhead is happier than thou, and still a blockhead? - Ah, sure enough, thy wages are too low! Wilt thou strike work with Providence then, and force him to an alternative?' Believe it, he will do without thee: il n'y a point d'homme nécessaire. P. J. 4. said a young "What is the use of thee, thou gnarled sapling? larch-tree to a young oak. "I grow three feet in a year, thou scarcely as many inches; I am straight and taper as a reed, thou straggling and twisted as a loosened withe."-" And thy duration," answered the oak, "is some third part of man's life, and I am appointed to flourish for a thousand years. Thou art felled and sawed into paling, where thou rottest and art burned after a single summer; |