tion of Paul Richter, amongst German authors, I will venture to add amongst modern authors generally, is the two-headed power which he possesses over the pathetic and the humorous: or, rather, let me say at once, what I have often felt to be true, and could (I think) at a fitting opportunity prove to be so, this power is not two-headed, but a oneheaded Janus with two faces: the pathetic and the humorous are but different phases of the same orb; they assist each other, melt indiscernibly into each other, and often shine each through each like layers of coloured chrystals placed one be hind another. Take, as an illustration, Mrs. Quickly's account of Falstaff's death-here there were three things to be accomplished; first, the death of a human being was to be described; of necessity, therefore, to be described pathetically: for death being one of those events which call up the pure generalities of human nature, and remove to the background all individualities, whether of life or character, the mind would not in any case endure to have it treated with levity: so that, if any circumstances of humour are introduced by the poetic painter, they must be such as will blend and fall into harmony with the ruling passion of the scene and, by the way, combining it with the fact, that humorous circumstances often have been introduced into death-scenes, both actual and imaginary, this remark of itself yields a proof that there is a humour which is in alliance with pathos. How else could we have borne the jests of Sir Thomas Moore after his condemnation, which, as jests, would have been unseasonable from any body else: but being felt in him to have a root in his character, they take the dignity of humorous traits; and do, in fact, deepen the pathos. So again, mere naïveté, or archness, when it is felt to flow out of the cheerfulness of resignation, becomes humorous, and at the same time, becomes pathetic: as, for instance, Lady Jane Gray's remark on the scaffold-"I have but a little neck," &c. But to return: the death of Falstaff, as the death of a man, was in the first place to be described with pathos, and if with humour, no otherwise than as the one could be reconciled with the other: but, 2dly, it was the death, not only of a man, but also of a Falstaff: and we could not but require that the description should revive the image and features of somemorable a character; if not, why describe it at all? The understanding would as little bear to forget that it was the death-bed of a Falstaff, as the heart and affections to forget that it was the death-bed of a fellow creature. Lastly, the description is given, not by the poet speaking in his own universal language, but by Mrs. Quickly,-a character as individually pourtrayed, and as well known to us, as the subject of her description. Let me recapitulate: first, it was to be pathetic, as relating to a man: 2dly, humorous, as relating to Falstaff: 3dly, humorous in another style, as coming from Mrs. Quickly. These were difficulties rather greater than those of levelling hills, filling up vallies, and arranging trees in picturesque groupes: yet Capability Brown was allowed to exclaim, on surveying a conquest of his in this walk of art-" Aye! none but your Browns and your G—— Almighties can do such things as these." Much more then might this irreve rent speech be indulged to the gratitude of our veneration for Shakspeare, on witnessing such triumphs of his art. The simple words-" and a' babbled of green fields," I should imagine, must have been read by many a thousand with tears and smiles at the same instant; I mean, connecting them with a previous knowledge of Falstaff and of Mrs. Quickly. Such then being demonstrably the possibility of blending, or fusing, as it were, the elements of pathos and of humour-and composing out of their union a third metal sui generis (as Corinthian brass, you know, is said to have been the product of all other metals, from the confluence of melted statues, &c. at the burning of Corinth);—I cannot but consider John Paul Richter as by far the most eminent artist in that way since the time of Shakspeare.What? you will say, greater than Sterne ?-I answer, yes, to my thinking; and I could give some arguments and illustrations in support of this judgment. But I am not anxious to establish my own preference, as founded on any thing of better authority than my idiosyn- Secondly, Judge as you will on this last point, that is, on the comparative pretensions of Sterne and Richter to the spolia opima in the fields of pathos and of humour; yet in one pretension he not only leaves Sterne at an infinite distance in the rear, but really, for my part, I cease to ask who it is that he leaves behind him, for I begin to think with myself, who it is that he approaches. If a man could reach Venus or Mercury, we should not say he has advanced to a great distance from the earth: we should say, he is very near to the sun. So also, if in any thing a man approaches Shakspeare, or does but remind us of him, all other honours are swallowed up in that: a relation of inferiority to him is a more enviable distinction than all degrees of superiority to others, the rear of his splendours a more eminent post than the supreme station in the van of all others. I have already mentioned one quality of excellence, viz. the interpenetration* of the humorous and the pathetic, common to Shakspeare and John Paul: but this, apart from its quantity or degree, implies no more of a participation in Shakspearian excellence, than the possession of wit, judgment, good sense, &c. which, in some degree or other, must be common to all authors of any merit at all. Thus far I have already said, that I would not contest the point of precedence with the admirers of Sterne but, in the claim I now advance for Richter, which respects a question of degree, I cannot allow of any competition at all from that quarter. What then is it that I claim? -Briefly, an activity of understanding, so restless and indefatigable that 609 all attempts to illustrate, or express it adequately by images borrowed from the natural world, from the motions of beasts, birds, insects, &c. from the leaps of tigers or leopards, kittens, the antics of monkeys, or the from the gamboling and tumbling of running of antelopes and ostriches, &c. are baffled, confounded, and made ridiculous, by the enormous and over-mastering superiority of impression left by the thing illustrated. The rapid, but uniform motions of the heavenly bodies, serve enough to typify the grand and conwell tinuous motions of the Miltonic mind. tic, capricious, incalculable, springBut the wild, giddy, fantasing, vaulting, tumbling, dancing, waltzing, caprioling, sky-rocketing of the chamois, the harlequin, the Vestris, the stormpirouetting, loving raven-the raven? no, the lark, (for often he ascends" singing up to heaven's gates," but like the lark he dwells upon the earth,) in short, of the monster-John Paul, can be comthe Proteus, the Ariel, the Mercury, pared to nothing in heaven or earth, or the waters under the earth, except to the motions of the same faculty as existing in Shakspeare.Perhaps, meteorology may hereafter furnish us with some adequate analogon or adumbration of its multitudinous activity: hereafter, observe: for, as to lightning, or any thing we know at present, it pants after them pursy old gentleman Time,† as paint"in vain,' in company with that John Paul's intellect-his faculty of ed by Dr. Johnson. To say the truth, catching at a glance all the relations of objects, both the grand, the lovely, the ludicrous, and the fantastic,-is painfully and almost morbidly active: there is no respite, no repose, allowed-no, not for a moment, in some of his works, nor whilst you can say Jack Robinson. * Interpenetration :-this word is from the mint of Mr. Coleridge: and, as it seems to me a very" laudable" word (as surgeons say of pus) I mean to patronize it; and beg to recommend it to my friends and the public in general.-By the way, the public, of whose stupidity I have often reason to complain, does not seem to understand it :-the prefix inter has the force of the French entre, in such words as s'entrelacer : recipro cal penetration is the meaning: as if a black colour should enter a crimson one, yet not keep itself distinct; but, being in turn pervaded by the crimson, each should diffuse itself through the other. +"And panting Time toil'd after him in vain.” So that, according to the Doctor, Shakspeare performed a match against Time; and, being backed by Nature, it seems he won it. And, by the way, a sort of name- the true derivation of this difficulty, that it has often been said to me, as an Englishman, "What! can you read John Paul?"-meaning to say, can you read such difficult German? Doubtless, in some small proportion, the mere language and style are responsible for his difficulty: and, in a sense somewhat different, applying it to a mastery over the language in which he writes, the expression of Quinctilian in respect to the student of Cicero may be transferred to the student of John Paul :-" Ille se profecisse sciat, cui Cicero valde placebit:" he may rest assured that he has made a competent progress in the German language who can read Paul Richter. Indeed he is a sort of proof author in this respect; a man, who can "construe" him, cannot be stopped by any difficulties purely verbal. But, after all, these verbal obscurities are but the necessary result and product of his style of thinking; the nimbleness of his transitions often makes him elliptical: the vast expansion and discursiveness in his range of notice and observation, carries him into every department and nook of human life, of science, of art, and of literature; whence comes a proportionably extensive vocabulary, and a prodigious compass of idiomatic phraseology: and finally, the fineness, and evanescent brilliancy of his oblique glances and surface-skimming allusions, often fling but half a meaning on the mind; and one is puzzled to make out its complement. Hence it is, that is to say, from his mode of presenting things, his lyrical style of connexion, and the prodigious fund of knowledge on which he draws for his illustrations and his images, that his obscurity arises. And these are causes which must affect his own countrymen no less than foreigners. Further than as Of which the most tremendous case I have met with was this; and, as I greatly desire to believe so good a story, I should be more easy in mind if I knew that any body else had ever believed it. In the year 1818, an Irishman, and a great lover of whiskey, persisted obstinately, though often warned of his error, in attempting to blow out a candle: the candle, however, blew out the Irishman: and the following result was sworn to before the Coroner. The Irishman shot off like a Congreve rocket, passed with the velocity of a twenty-four-pounder through I know not how many stories, ascended to the highest heaven of invention," viz.-to the garrets, where slept a tailor and his wife. Feather beds, which stop cannon-balls, gave way before the Irishman's skull he passed like a gimblet through two mattrasses, a feather bed, &c., and stood grinning at the tailor and his wife, without his legs, however, which he had left behind him in the second floor. : John Paul Frederick Richter. these causes must occasionally produce a corresponding difficulty of -diction, I know of no reason why an Englishman should be thought specially concerned in his obscurity, or less able to find his way through it than any German. But just the same mistake is commonly made about Lycophron he is represented as the most difficult of all Greek authors. Meantime, as far as language is concerned, he is one of the easiest:-some peculiar words he has, I acknowledge, but it is not single words that constitute verbal obscurity; it is the construction, synthesis, composition, arrangement, and involution of words, which only can obstruct the reader: now in these parts of style Lycophron is remarkably lucid. lies his reputed darkness? Purely in Where then this, that, by way of colouring the style with the sullen hues of prophetic vision, Cassandra is made to describe all those on whom the fates of Troy hinged, by enigmatic periphrases, oftentimes drawn from the most obscure incidents in their lives: just as if I should describe Cromwell by the expression, "unfortunate tamer of horses," because he once nearly broke his neck in Hyde-Park, when driving four-in-hand; or should describe a noble lord of the last century as "the roaster of men," because, when a member of the Hell-fireclub, he actually tied a poor man to the spit; and, having spitted him, proceeded to roast him.* Third. You will naturally collect from the account here given of John Paul's activity of understanding and fancy, that over and above his humour, he must have an overflowing opulence of wit.-In fact he has. On this earth of ours (I know nothing about the books in Jupiter, where Kant has proved that the authors will be far abler than any poor Terræ Filius, such as Shakspeare or Milton,) but on this poor earth of ours, I am acquainted with no book of such unintermitting and brilliant wit as his Vorschule der Aesthetik: it glitters like the stars on a frosty night; or like the stars on Count 611 vaopa the multitudinous laughing you what it is that has fixed John In one of these (Deed of Really I can't say. "Proceeded to roast him,-yes: but did he roast him?" Some people like their mutton underdone; and Lord · done. All I know of the sequel is, that the sun expressed no horror at this Thyestean - might like his man undercookery, which might be because he had set two hours before: but the Sun newspaper did, when it rose some nights after (as it always does) at six o'clock in the evening. indignation was justly roused to see Shakspeare's name borrowed to countenance such loathsome and stupid vulgarity, expresses himself with much feeling and I confess that, for my part, that passage alone, without the innumerable marks of grossest forgery which stare upon one in every word, would have been quite sufficient to expose the whole as a base and most childish imposture. For, so far was Shakspeare from any capability of leaving behind him a malignant libel on a whole body of learned men, that, among all writers of every age, he stands forward as the one who looked most benignantly, and with the most fraternal eye, upon all the ways of men, however weak or foolish. From every sort of vice and infirmity he drew nutriment for his philosophic mind. It is to the honour of John Paul, that in this, as in other respects, he constantly reminds me of Shakspeare. Every where a spirit of kindness prevails: his satire is every where playful, delicate, and clad in smiles; never bitter, scornful, or malignant. But this is not all. I could produce many passages from Shakspeare, which show that, if his anger was ever roused, it was against the abuses of the time: not mere political abuses, but those that had a deeper root, and dishonoured human nature. Here again the resemblance holds in John Paul; and this is the point in which I said that I would notice a bond of affinity between him and Schiller. Both were intolerant haters of ignoble things, though placable towards the ignoble men. Both yearned, according to their different temperaments, for a happier state of things: I mean for human nature generally, and, in a political sense, for Germany. To his latest years, Schiller, when suffering under bodily decay and anguish, was an earnest contender † for whatever promised to elevate human nature, and bore emphatic witness against the evils of the time. John Paul, who still lives, is of a gentler nature: but his aspirations tend to the same point, though expressed in a milder and more hopeful spirit. With all this, however, they give a rare lesson on Inquiry, &c. p. 279. the manner of conducting such a cause for you will no where find that they take any indecent liberties, of a personal sort, with those princes whose governments they most abhorred. Though safe enough from their vengeance, they never forgot in their indignation, as patriots and as philosophers, the respect due to the rank of others, or to themselves as scholars, and the favourites of their country. Some other modern authors of Germany may be great writers: but Frederick Schiller and John Paul Richter I shall always view with the feelings due to great men. well, and believe me to be, For the present, my dear F. fare Most faithfully yours, GRASMERIENSIS TEUTONIZANS. P. S. You will observe in my motto from Trebellius Pollio, that I announce an intention of translating a few Analecta Paulina into English: two specimens chosen at random from the Flegel-jahre I subjoin: they were adopted hastily, and translated hastily; and can do little towards exhibiting, in its full proportions, a mind so various as that of John Paul. In my next letter I will send you a better selection, and executed in a style of translation more corresponding to the merits of my brilliant original. Once again, however, let me remind you of the extraordinary difficulties which beset the task; difficulties of apprehending the sense in many cases, difficulties of expressing it in all. But why need I say this to you, who in six weeks will be able to judge for yourself upon all points connected with German literature; and to unite with me and others in furnishing an Anthology in our own language, better reflecting, by absolute specimens, the characteristics of the most eminent German writers, than all merely analytic evolutions of style and manner could ever do. Every man shall take his own favourite: mine, in any case, is to be Paul Richter:-but 1 talk too much: so "manum de tabulà." Goethe has lately (Morphologie, p. 108. Zweyter heft) recurred to his conversations with Schiller, in a way which places himself in rather an unfavourable contrast. |
