of little incidents. Nor is his manner of writing quite so rambling and irregular. The narratives, which are carried on in a regular and connected manner, are, I think, those in which he succeeds most completely. We may notice in particular the stories of Atkins and Monfort, in the Man of Feeling, and of La Roche and Venoni, in the Mirror. This writer is honourably distinguished by the avoiding of every thing offensive to purity and morality, and by an uniform adherence to the cause of virtue and religion. The feelings introduced are almost always correct and amiable. There is only one point of view in which the tendency of his writings may perhaps be objected to. They seem to contain something peculiarly enervating and unfavourable to active exertion. That interesting languor, which breathes throughout, prompts rather to an indulgence in, what may be termed, the luxury of musing, than to the discharge of the duties of active life. G GOETHE. This mode of writing was, in Britain, evidently the result of a highly refined and polished state of society. It is remarkable, however, that it has since been a favourite one with other nations, at the first opening of their literary career. Of this several instances might be adduced; but none can be more striking than that which is afforded by Germany. Sentiment, which was here confined to a comparatively small number, seems there to have spread through the whole nation, with a degree of enthusiasm of which we have no conception. It is not, however, preserved altogether in its original purity, but is mingled with a large infusion of barbarism. The effects of this mixture have been noticed in the general observations formerly made upon German writers. Out of these, my subject now leads me to select Goethé, the well known author of the Sorrows of Werter. The rival of Schiller in dramatic performances, he is less daring and sublime, but seems to be superior in pathos and beauty of genius. His extravagance, too, does not go to such a height, though he retains still a very ample share. He differs in several respects also from his English models. His stile does not possess the same elegance and delicacy, but is rather distinguished by force, vehemence, and even wildness. He does not seem to delight, like them, in minute observations upon human nature, but discovers more of a poetical cast, and a livelier sensibility to the beauties of nature. Nor does he shew any of that gay and playful disposition, in which they frequently indulge; but is deeply serious and melancholy throughout. Of the tendency of this work, it is impossible to speak in terms of approbation. It is free, indeed, from the indecency of Sterne, nor does it, like some other German productions, contain any direct attack upon moral or religious principle. As to the grand objection of its encouraging suicide, this may not appear an example which is likely to meet with many imitators. Yet as there are certainly situations which expose men to some temptation of this kind, it may doubtless be productive of occasional bad consequences. More danger, however, is, in my opinion, to be apprehended from the example which it sets of ungovernable passion, impatience of restraint, and contempt for all rational and consistent plans of conduct. Nor is there much display of benevolence in any part, either of the conduct or sentiments of the hero. His sensibility, however exquisite and beautiful, is chiefly engrossed, either by himself, or by the object of that unbounded passion, which seems to have absorbed entirely all his faculties. There are, no doubt, many compositions of great merit, which have not been included in this enumeration. But it has probably extended to as great a length as the nature of the subject required. Where this, too, did not seem indispensably to demand it, the introduction of living authors has been generally avoided. What has been said may be sufficient to illustrate the mode of judg |