No doubt there are exceptions. Goethe’s best seem to me 278 (directed,

it is said, at F. Schlegel) and the rather ill-natured but clever

_Charade_ (282). Schiller was happy in 346 on Gottsched as Tantalus:

but any one could, and can, shoot Gottsched sitting.

Footnote 749:

4 vols. in the Cotta collection. This also contains Schiller’s

correspondence with Körner, which should be compared.

Footnote 750:

1795-96.

Footnote 751:

Letter 309, May 5, 1797; ed. cit., ii. 96.

Footnote 752:

All the pieces here mentioned will be found in the Cotta ed. of

Bürger’s _Ausgewählte Werke_. The epigram on Goethe’s doubling the

part of artist and minister (ii. 78, ed. cit.) has much more satiric

quality than most of the _Xenien_ themselves possess.

Footnote 753:

Ed. cit., ii. 208. But Bürger ought to have faced the question, “If

the asafœtidarian poet has travelled, and been convinced of roses,

what then?” See, however, some notable things here on Style, &c.

Footnote 754:

See his _Works_, or separately in two volumes of Cotta’s _Bibliothek_.

The note cited is at i. 43. Observe that Richter was by no means a

partisan Wielandist.

Footnote 755:

In the Essay which opens the _Miscellanies_.

Footnote 756:

A not unamiable reviewer has suggested that if I would draw up a neat

tabular contrast of “Classic” and “Romantic,” and put it—mounted on

linen, I presume, but he did not say so—in a pocket of this volume, it

would be useful, especially for examinations. I am afraid I do not

regard examinations in a sufficiently orthodox spirit to make any

effort to supercram their crammableness, and I hope I have more wit

than to attempt to define anything. Something, however, will be found

in the Interchapters of this volume which may stimulate if it does not

satisfy. The rest of the _Lector Benevolus_ may consider as destined

to form part _du Quart Livre_, if I may speak Pantagruelically.

Footnote 757:

The chief—a kind of classic—is R. Haym’s _Die Romantische Schule_

(Berlin, 1870). Dr. Brandes’s later work on the subject, as on much

else that we touch, should not need recommendation.

Footnote 758:

_Novalis Schriften_ (3 vols., 1 and 2, 5th ed., Berlin 1837, 3, 1st

ed., ibid., 1846), i. 239. Appendix-note to _Heinrich von

Ofterdingen_.

Footnote 759:

Translating it, with other things, in his Essay on Novalis.

Footnote 760:

_Cosas de Inglaterra_ generally appear to have been (as he confesses,

Shakespeare partly was) “dark” to Novalis. His is the famous statement

that “every Englishman is an island.” Now islands form the most

beautiful and delightful part of the earth’s surface: but you must go

to them to know them.

Footnote 761:

P. 179.

Footnote 762:

P. 180.

Footnote 763:

P. 185.

Footnote 764:

Pp. 187, 188.

Footnote 765:

P. 190.

Footnote 766:

P. 195.

Footnote 767:

iii. 164.

Footnote 768:

iii. 164.

Footnote 769:

P. 168.

Footnote 770:

P. 174.

Footnote 771:

P. 176. _All_ the context here is precious.

Footnote 772:

4 vols., Leipzig, 1848-52. I fear it was not widely bought, for the

first edition seems never to have gone out of print.

Footnote 773:

Leipzig, 1855.

Footnote 774:

One of the unluckiest is on _The Second Maiden’s Tragedy_ (i. 320),

where he observes on the lines—

“If you can construe but your doctor’s bill,

_Parse_ your wife’s waiting-women.”

“_Parse?_ Was kann es bedeuten?”

“_Pierce_ ist dem aufmerksamen Auge

leserlich genug.”

Here one can only open one’s eyes at the question, and smother one’s

reply.

Footnote 775:

The _Works_ of Friedrich (except some _Juvenilia_) are included in a

complete edition (Vienna, 1846) in fifteen vols., of which the first

eight are entirely filled with critical matter. Of August Wilhelm,

besides the _Sämmtliche Werke_ (12 vols., Leipzig, 1846), there are

three vols. of French and two of Latin works, and also the _Lectures_,

which were not published till 1884 (Heilbronn).

Footnote 776:

They were redistributed later in the _Works_ of the brothers and in A.

W.'s _Kritische Schriften_. But it is good to read, and possess, the

original _Characteristiken und Kritiken_ (2 vols., Königsberg, 1801).

Footnote 777:

I should think better of the criticism of Germany if it did not

habitually speak of “Romeo und Juli_a_.” In the first place, it is

surely common good manners not to alter an author’s title—though you

may abbreviate it. In the second, which is more important, the change

argues an æsthetic and gynæcologic callousness. Juli_a_ and Juli_et_

are quite different persons.

Footnote 778:

Schlegel was twenty-nine at the date of the earliest, and sixty-one

when the book was published. The climacteric of accomplished youth and

that of not yet absolutely declining age could not be much better hit

off.

Footnote 779:

i. 74-164.

Footnote 780:

It opens the second vol., and goes to p. 81.

Footnote 781:

_V. sup._, p. 81. That which follows on Voss, Matthisson, and Schmidt

is rather over full of citation.

Footnote 782:

I have already waived the controversy between Coleridge and the

Schlegels. The fact is that the resemblance is mainly one of

_attitude_—one of those results of “skyey influences” which constantly

manifest themselves in different persons of genius and talent more or

less simultaneously. And it may be added that the _general_ presence

of this attitude in Coleridge before his German visit, before either

Schlegel had attained any great notoriety, or had written anything

likely to penetrate to England, or even anything very characteristic,

is attested not merely by the concrete document, in not so very alien

material, of _The Ancient Mariner_, but by testimonies as to his

conversation, from half a dozen different people.

Footnote 783:

It is No. 19, which describes Æsthetics as “the salt which dutiful

disciples are going to put on the tail of the Ideal (enjoined upon

them as so necessary to poetry), _as soon as they get near enough_.”

Footnote 784:

Nor had Schlegel attained the art of grasping and exhibiting a writer,

not merely as Sainte-Beuve was to do, but even as Johnson had done.

The “Chamfort” in this book (i. 338-365) show this.

Footnote 785:

_Gespr. mit Eck._, iii. 100. Effeminacy, as well as coxcombry, was

frequently charged against him: and the unpopularity of both brothers

as persons was very great. But this Camarina, like all such, is better

unstirred.

Footnote 786:

i. 47, ed. cit. He is “the last in value as in time,” of ancient

critics, “the inventor of sentimental æsthetic,” “empty of ideas.”

“All which propositions I for the present content myself,” as Carlyle

observes in another matter, “with modestly, but peremptorily and

irrevocably, denying.”

Footnote 787:

P. 49. He bewails their “practical sterility,” their “muddle of Art

and Nature” (_das man Kunst und Natur so durcheinander warf_), &c.

Footnote 788:

He praises the _mot_, “According to Burke, the Beautiful is a

tolerably pretty strumpet, and the Sublime is a grenadier with a big

moustache.” Who said this?

Footnote 789:

In several places, especially iii. 62, 63. There is a useful index to

these lectures: but their condition requires a full table of contents.

Footnote 790:

ii. 210, 313.

Footnote 791:

The first and less complete issue, in 10 vols., was in 1821-25.

Footnote 792:

Ed. cit., vols. i. and ii.

Footnote 793:

Vols. iii., iv., v.

Footnote 794:

Vol. vi.

Footnote 795:

Vol. viii.

Footnote 796:

Ibid.

Footnote 797:

_Gesammelte Werke_, 6 vols., in the Cotta Library.

Footnote 798:

Most of his best things were published by 1815, and many of these had

been written years before.

Footnote 799:

They fill 4 out of the 6 vols., as given in ed. cit.

Footnote 800:

I have used the _second_ edition (Breslau, 1820). The first appeared

in 1818, as a mere booklet in comparison.

Footnote 801:

_Vorlesungen über Æsthetik_: Leipzig, 1829.

Footnote 802:

P. 7.

Footnote 803:

De Quincey’s Essay on Schlosser (_Works_, vol. vii.) is disfigured by

his usual rather boisterous fooling and rigmarole, but very sound in

the main.

Footnote 804:

Vol. ii. Bk. VI. chap. iii. I do not yet know Molledano (R. y P. R.),

_Historia literaria de España_, 9 (10) vols. 4to, 1769-79.

Footnote 805:

See also _infra_ in the last chapter of the next Book. I suppose the

name most likely to be missed here is that of Ugo Foscolo. The author

of the _Letters of Jacopo Ortis_ must seem, to those who think

Rousseau a critic, to be another, and the commentator on Petrarch and

Dante certainly was one. But I think we can do without him.

Footnote 806:

II. 216.

Footnote 807:

_V. sup._, p. 386.

Footnote 808:

See the Addenda-Corrigenda in this vol. for Dennis’s

counter-assertion.

Footnote 809:

Certain persons would, of course, omit even the provisos here: but of

them I take no keep.

Footnote 810:

The Germans did it rather earlier but not so well: the French almost

if not quite as well and more voluminously, but later.

Footnote 811:

The second Essay of the _Miscellanies_, vol. i.

Footnote 812:

A hit, of course, at Coleridge, as, I suppose, is that above about

“the nature of _the poet_.”

Footnote 813:

This celebrated tractate, which cannot be too much honoured as a

Counsel of Perfection, may be said to have started the belief,

comfortable for those who entertain it, that all who follow not their

notion of “Philosophy” and “the Idea” are “Completed Bunglers.”

“Perhaps so, my dear! perhaps so,” as an excellent Bishop of the Roman

branch of the Catholic Church is said to have once remarked to a

little vulgar boy who told him he was “no gentleman.”

Footnote 814:

Carlyle, in a very fine passage, admits their acceptance of “all true

singers of every age and clime.” I fear the Devil’s Advocate’s devil,

if you gave him a little time, could collect a curious _dossier_ of

contrary instances: but this matters little. They _are_ entitled to

credit for maintaining and spreading this catholic faith. But even

Dryden, according to his lights, had championed it a century earlier;

Gray, if he could have shaken off the deadly sin of Accidia—the

deadliest to the man of letters—would have been Herder + either

Schlegel, and more also, long before any of them; and Coleridge is

Coleridge, however much he may have annoyed Carlyle at Highgate.

Footnote 815:

P. 233 of the vol. for the University—year 1902-3.

Footnote 816:

The rest of this Interchapter may be taken—like the two Appendices—as

a sample of that fourth volume of “Critical Excursus” which I should

have liked to give, had I thought that readers would endure it.

Footnote 817:

Add some other blessings, as that the periodical can contradict

itself—which the book sometimes does, but should not.

Footnote 818:

I beg pardon: when I wrote the above I had not read the boast of the

gentleman who could “come to a pile of new books, tear the entrails

out of them, and write a 1500-word _causerie_, passably stylistic, all

within sixty minutes”! But perhaps this also was irony?

Footnote 819:

I take my examples as usual from English; but, as usual, nothing but

the consideration of space prevents me from adducing French and German

parallels.

Footnote 820:

It was originally published, remember, before the death of Coleridge,

and well within the period of our Book, even as to English.

Footnote 821:

It is of course impossible to appreciate this stanza fully except as a

modification, and in comparison with other modifications, of the

normal decasyllabic quatrain of _Gondibert_ and _Annus Mirabilis_. Yet

persons calling themselves critics have sometimes been amusingly

indignant at the suggestion of this obvious fact.

Footnote 822:

The original form of this, in 1832-33, was less perfect, but the aim

and the principle are there already.

Footnote 823:

Mr Hall Caine, in his _Cobwebs of Criticism_ (London, 1883); Mr E.

Stevenson, in a useful and unpretentious collection of _Early Reviews_

(London, n. d.), &c., &c.

Footnote 824:

“Poetry has this much at least in common with religion, that its

standards were fixed long ago by certain inspired writers, whose

authority it is no longer lawful to call in question.” There may seem

to be an ironic touch in this: but the whole article is written to the

text.

Footnote 825:

_V. sup._, vol. i. p. 252.

Footnote 826:

These texts can be seen in detail in more than one modern book on

Tennyson, and wholly in Mr Churton Collins’s painstaking and useful

reprint of the _Early Poems_ (London, 1900).

Footnote 827:

His books are too numerous to catalogue, and too equal in merit and

defect to select from.

Footnote 828:

_Tableau de la marche, &c., de la Littérature Française_: Paris, 1828.

It may also be found at the end of the Didot ed. of La Harpe’s _Cours

de Littérature_.

Footnote 829:

He was a friend of my father’s in his English days, and I remember

long ago seeing letters of his signed “Chasles _d’Almar_,” after a not

uncommon French fashion.

Footnote 830:

It fills perhaps the major part of the great collection of articles

called _Les Œuvres et les Hommes_ (15 vols., Paris, 1860-95).

Footnote 831:

xi. 72.

Footnote 832:

See vol. xiii. of _Les Œuvres et les Hommes_.

Footnote 833:

Note that the last outrage—_commune_—avenges Miss Austen of Madame de

Staël.

Footnote 834:

xii. 245.

Footnote 835:

_Mélanges et Lettres_, 4 vols., Paris: 1876-77.

Footnote 836:

_Op. cit._, i. 34 _sq._

Footnote 837:

Printed in vol. iv.

Footnote 838:

i. 432.

Footnote 839:

i. 521.

Footnote 840:

ii. 389.

Footnote 841:

iii. 128.

Footnote 842:

iv. 151.

Footnote 843:

Not a little of the later published _Pensées_ (Paris, 1880) is

definitely literary in subject; but the book is a small one, and its

contents seem to me to lack something of the absolute spontaneity and

_privacy_ of the larger and earlier collection. There are, however,

noteworthy things; let me mention, as one of several for honour, the

important dictum, p. 24, that “une forte mémoire _ne dénature pas_

assez ce qu’on imite,” where Doudan trembles on the verge of that

truth which so few have reached, that art is _dis_realisation. Not so

good is the wish that Scott had attempted Wellington or Napoleon as a

hero, for it shows that Doudan was unwilling to accept (what

nevertheless, as the context shows, he half saw) the cardinal law of

the Historical Novel, that the main personages must _not_ be

historical.

Footnote 844:

For an article in the _Fortnightly Review_ (May 1880).

Footnote 845:

For the reprint and completion of that article in _Miscellaneous

Essays_ (London, 1892).

Footnote 846:

In the _Avenir de la Science_.

Footnote 847:

See his _Derniers Essais de Critique et d’Histoire_ (Paris, 1894), a

remarkably representative collection (though, of course, not

dispensing the reader who really wishes to know, from consulting the

earlier collections of the same general heading), and one specially to

be recommended to those who only know the _Histoire de la Littérature

Anglaise_. The _Letters_, earlier and later, I have not drawn upon.

Footnote 848:

_V. sup._, p. 307.

Footnote 849:

_Journal des Goncourt_, ii. 123.

Footnote 850:

The first of these is _Les vies illustres s'éteignent sur tous les

points du monde, comme les mille flambeaux d’une fête qui finit_. On

this Taine’s comment is, “tout homme qui a tenu une plume tressaille

en la lisant.” Most true: but how about time, place and _milieu_? The

other is an exquisite conceit about the girl-speakers in the

_Decameron_.

Footnote 851:

In _Nouveaux Lundis_, and _Études Critiques_, respectively. M.

Montégut’s deliverance is less important, for reasons to be mentioned

presently. It does the _panegyrics_ admirably.

Footnote 852:

_V. sup._, p. 349. Mérimée commends Taine highly to the _Inconnue_.

Footnote 853:

In English he translated Shakespeare, Macaulay, and Emerson.

Footnote 854:

Especially, some may say, when he does not like you, or what you like.

Footnote 855:

This was probably due to the influence of Taine, with whom (as he once

told me in an interesting letter in regard to some published remarks

of mine) he at one time took much critical counsel.

Footnote 856:

See the opening piece, “Du Caractère Anglais,” of _Essais sur la

Littérature Anglaise_ (Paris, 1883).

Footnote 857:

_Nos Morts Contemporains_, ii. 199 (Paris, 1884).

Footnote 858:

In _Poètes et Artistes de l’Italie_. He was much pleased with the

eulogy which I was able to bestow on this. M. Scherer was not—I cannot

tell why, for certainly jealousy of praise given to somebody else was

not one of his faults. Probably he did not like Boccaccio—or Alaciel.

Footnote 859:

In the book already cited and its companion, _Écrivains Modernes de

l’Angleterre_ (Paris, 1885).

Footnote 860:

In the first series of _Nos Morts Contemporains_, but written long

before “Théo’s” death, in 1865.

Footnote 861:

_Écrivains Modernes de l’Angleterre_, as above.

Footnote 862:

10 of _Études Critiques sur la Littérature_ (Paris, 1863-89), besides

separate ones on Diderot, on Grimm, &c. I myself translated and edited

his _Essays on English Literature_ (London, 1891).

Footnote 863:

That is, since the period of the Reformation. I do not think he knew

much of older date.

Footnote 864:

It followed, that though less devoted to formulas than Taine, he was

determined that all literary criticism must be connected with the

exhibition of national character.

Footnote 865:

He _had_ such a sense, both of French wit and of English humour, but

within very narrow and sometimes quite arbitrarily drawn restrictions.

Footnote 866:

The best examples of this group are perhaps the _Goethe_, known in

England by Mr. Arnold’s essay, the _Taine’s English Literature_, and

the treatment of Renan’s _Peuple d’Israël_.

Footnote 867:

Gérard de Nerval ought to have been one of the best of these: but,

like Mérimée and Gautier himself, he was much occupied with better

things than criticism, and in it he chiefly dealt with drama.

Footnote 868:

_Petit Traité de Poésie Française_: Paris, 1891.

Footnote 869:

Paris, 1867: often reprinted.

Footnote 870:

Paris, 1880, and later (3 vols.)

Footnote 871:

The whole of the 2nd vol., _Curiosités Esthétiques_, and part of the

3rd, _L’Art Romantique_, of his _Œuvres_ (4 vols., Paris, 1868), are

occupied by this.

Footnote 872:

One of the few wholly agreeable pieces of anecdotage contained in the

_Journal des Goncourt_ seems to show that the accusations generally

brought as to the poet having hastened his own end by reckless living

were at least hasty. It seems that his mother, Madame Aupick, the most

respectable of old ladies, died under the same curse of aphasia and

general paralysis.

Footnote 873:

It would be difficult to say quite the same of the _Œuvres Posthumes_

(Paris, 1887), though these also contain valuable critical matter. But

much is familiar letter-writing never intended for serious perusal,

and not a little bears the clear marks of brain-disease.

Footnote 874:

4 vols., Paris, 1861.

Footnote 875:

The first volume—to George Sand, with Maupassant’s Introduction—

appeared in 1884: the general Correspondence followed. George Sand’s

replies, as well as other things of hers, give her a right to, at

least, a place in this note.

Footnote 876:

_V. inf._ on Mr Pater.

Footnote 877:

Two such different persons and writers as Zola himself and M. Anatole

France have, in different parts of the _Mémoires des Goncourt_, given

true and valuable testimony to one of the great merits of that

much-abused and certainly much-_abusable_ thing journalism—the

facility and audacity, namely, which it confers. No doubt the facility

which it gives may turn to slovenliness, and the boldness in

attempting great tasks to levity: but this need not be so,—M. France

himself is a convincing evidence in the one case at least. And there

is no doubt that the practised habit of undertaking complicated things

at short notice, and of doing the “day’s darg” in the day, protects a

man from that “impossibility of getting ready,” that “not knowing how

to begin” (and still less how to finish), which has sterilised even

genius so frequently.

Footnote 878:

The title of the first, _Mes Haines_ (Paris, 1866), is unlucky. Taken

as a joke, it is not very good: taken seriously, it is fatal. It may

not be easy to preserve the critical attitude when you love: that

attitude is gone, without hope of recovery, as soon as you hate.

Footnote 879:

Paris, 1880.

Footnote 880:

All these will be found in the volume cited.

Footnote 881:

_Op. cit._, p. 343.

Footnote 882:

Again the enemy “has said it.” You cannot have a much better

description of the highest literary art than this.

Footnote 883:

He was drowned while bathing. _V._ _Mémoires des Goncourt_.

Footnote 884:

_La Critique Scientifique_ (Paris, 1888), followed by _Études de Crit.

Scient._, in two series (1889 and 1890). I am under the impression

that Hennequin owed something—perhaps a good deal—to Mr H. M.

Posnett’s _Comparative Literature_ (London, 1886), a book which, for

the usual reason, escapes our survey. It may, however, be observed

that “Comparative _Literature_” is a very awkward phrase, neither

really representing “Littérature _Comparée_” nor really analogous to

“Comparative Anatomy.” “Comparative _Study of_ Literature” would be

all right: otherwise “Comparative _Criticism_” or “_Rhetoric_” is

wanted.

Footnote 885:

_La Critique Scientifique_, p. 29.

Footnote 886:

This appeared in 1895; _Études de Littérature Européenne_ followed

three years later, and _La Littérature Comparée_ in 1900. The

contributions to Petit de Julleville have been noticed (ii. 528.

note).

Footnote 887:

For more on it, and on another kind of it, see below on the late Karl

Hillebrand.

Footnote 888:

_V. sup._, p. 97 _sq._

Footnote 889:

A good example of his literary work is _La Fin du 18ième Siècle_ (2

vols., Paris, 1880). He speaks of Diderot as _un essayiste à la façon

Anglaise_, which is complimentary—and instructive.

Footnote 890:

_Histoire de la Jeune Allemagne, Littérature Étrangère, Drames et

Romans de la Vie Littéraire_, &c.

Footnote 891:

Montégut (_v. sup._, p. 445) thought better of him.

Footnote 892:

_V. sup._, p. 336.

Footnote 893:

The posthumous _Épisodes Littéraires_ (Paris, 1890) contrasts very

pleasantly with too many utterances “d’Outre-Tombe.”

Footnote 894:

“Call yourself Voltaire: I promise you some sensations,” was one of

his boasts which became famous. It was by no means mere bragging.

Footnote 895:

Paris, 1856 onwards.

Footnote 896:

In an essay originally published in _Macmillan’s Magazine_ for July

1886, and reprinted in _Essays in English Literature_ (3rd. ed.,

London, 1896).

Footnote 897:

As I am not speaking _enfarinhadomente_ about Wilson’s faults, I may

fairly protest against an exaggeration of them. It is surely unlucky

of Mr Buxton Forman (_Keats’ Letters_, i. 46, ed. 1900) to talk of

_Blackwood’s Magazine_ having “a monopoly of frowsy and unsavoury

personal gibes” in “the possession of Christopher North,” when he had

himself a few papers earlier cited Hazlitt’s almost Bedlamite

Billingsgate against Southey in the _Examiner_.

Footnote 898:

As the 4th vol. of _Essays Critical and Imaginative_ (4 vols.,

Edinburgh, 1856-57). It follows Wilson’s usual lines of a running

study of the poem and those who have written about it. Much of it, as

of the essay on the _Agamemnon_ which follows, is occupied by a not

uninteresting parallel-collection of translations.

Footnote 899:

_Literature of Europe_, chap. xiv., § 82.

Footnote 900:

It will be found in _Blackwood’s Magazine_, vols. xxxiv., xxxvi., and

xxxvii. (Edinburgh, 1833-35).

Footnote 901:

For this is one of the metaphors which (as Théophile Gautier boasted

of his own, and as so few others can boast) _se suivent_.

Footnote 902:

Ibid., vols. lvii., lviii. (1849).

Footnote 903:

_Blackwood’s Magazine_, vols. lxv.-lxviii. and lxxii. (1849-52).

Footnote 904:

There is much good as well as bad criticism here; but it is almost

inevitable that the goodness should be obscured to too many tastes,

and the bad intensified to almost all, by the setting of High Jinks.

Yet Wilson, like Shakespeare according to Collier, “could be very

serious,” and his defence of Croker against Macaulay is far more valid

than has usually been allowed.

Footnote 905:

Essays, i. 387 _sq._

Footnote 906:

Ibid., ii. 109 _sq._

Footnote 907:

Ibid., iii. 386.

Footnote 908:

i. 179.

Footnote 909:

As De Quincey had, for one who was not a novelist, the probably unique

honour of four complete editions of his _Works_ in his last years and

the generation succeeding his death, it is not easy to refer to him.

But the last—Professor Masson’s of 1890—has the merit of methodical

arrangement: and its tenth volume contains most of the _purely_

critical things.

Footnote 910:

In _Coleridge and Opium Eating_.

Footnote 911:

As it is very dangerous to write about De Quincey, let me observe that

this is a phrase of Mr Thackeray’s about another person, and implies

affection and even admiration.

Footnote 912:

In his “biography” of Goethe.

Footnote 913:

Vol. x., ed. cit. Date, 1838-39.

Footnote 914:

As such it will prove interesting to compare him with Nisard or

Planche, especially the latter. But the comparison will, I fear, bring

out that superiority of French criticism at _this_ time which, denying

it at others, I fully admit.

Footnote 915:

The objection of some folk to this useful word may be perhaps

accounted for by their spelling it “protrept_r_ic.”

Footnote 916:

This book, which often occurs in catalogues at a very moderate price,

may be strongly recommended to intelligent book-buyers. It is pretty

to look at, agreeable to handle, and delightful to read. _Janus_,

another waif, in which he and Wilson collaborated, is less

interesting. (For a fuller treatment of Lockhart, as of others, I may

once more refer to my _Essays in Criticism_.)

Footnote 917:

_Works_, 7 vols. (London, 1851-52), ed. Derwent Coleridge; _Poems and

Memoir_, 2 vols.; _Essays_, 2; _Northern Worthies_, 3. An eighth, of

_Fragments_, was promised; but if it ever appeared, I have not seen

it.

Footnote 918:

“The Professor,” it is hardly necessary to say, was an early and

lifelong friend and neighbour of Hartley, whom he seems to have

regarded with particular affection.

Footnote 919:

It is, perhaps, not officious to subjoin a reminder that we have the

curious pleasure of S. T. C.'s notes on Hartley in the _Biographia

Borealis_. One of these—an objection to the phrase “prose Shakespeare”

for Heywood—is very odd, as apparently showing forgetfulness of the

fact that the phrase is not his eldest son’s, but his oldest friend’s.

Footnote 920:

_Miscellanies, Prose and Verse_, by William Maginn, ed. R. W. Montagu.

2 vols., London, 1885.

Footnote 921:

They are scattered all over the _Memoirs of Morgan O’Doherty_, and

often form independent items of the _Miscellanies_.

Footnote 922:

It would have been interesting to hear Maginn on the Revised Version

“after” the Authorised.

Footnote 923:

Ed. cit., ii. 1-116. Let me guard carefully against being supposed

myself to speak disrespectfully of Farmer, whose Essay will be found

recently reprinted in Mr Nichol Smith’s collection. Farmer is at least

as right against _his_ adversaries as Maginn against him.

Footnote 924:

Ibid., pp. 117-144.

Footnote 925:

In prose from _The Story without a Tail_, and in verse from _The

Pewter Quart_ onward.

Footnote 926:

_Life_, p. 309 _sq._, ed. cit.

Footnote 927:

_Life_, p. 343 ed. cit.

Footnote 928:

He was thirty-eight.

Footnote 929:

One of the _in_justices is curious from a man of Scottish blood,

though every Englishman would commit it, as I own I should have done

till very late in my reviewing life. It is the satire on the

comparison of a woman’s eyes to dew on “a bramble,” which of course in

England means a _bush_, and in Scotland a _berry_. I wonder whether R.

L. S. meant to appease the other poor Robert’s _manes_ when he wrote

the phrase “eyes of gold and bramble-dew,” and I should have asked him

had Fate permitted.

Footnote 930:

It may seem whimsical: but I doubt whether any one of a really

critical _ethos_ would put down, even in his private diary, that a

private enemy and a hostile reviewer was “a bad, a very bad man, a

scandal to politics and letters.” Criticism herself would, I think,

condescend to give any of her favourite children’s ears an Apollonian

twitch.

Footnote 931:

Carlyle was an older man than Macaulay, but he began to publish

original work later.

Footnote 932:

Any one anxious really to appreciate Carlyle’s _potentia_ as a

literary critic may be specially commended to this. It was written, of

course, not merely before he developed his own style, but before the

freer modern criticism had been largely developed by anybody except

apart-dwelling stars like Coleridge. But it brands the author as a

great critic _if he chose_. He did not wholly choose: and, later, he

refused.

Footnote 933:

London, 1896.

Footnote 934:

Not that all Taylor’s ideas were preposterous. He and others of the

Norwich School would make a good excursus. Even the “quotidian and

stimulant” theory, of which Carlyle makes such fun, might have a

chance with Carlyle’s own “highest aim of a nation.”

Footnote 935:

More especially those on the _Nibelungenlied_ and Early German Poetry

generally. These could hardly have been better done.

Footnote 936:

As an out-and-out Scottite _and_ Carlylian, I would respectfully

deprecate hasty judgment of this. It is a _crux ansata_, and you may

easily get hold of the wrong handle.

Footnote 937:

“O people of Paraguay! how long will you continue idiots?” If a casual

half-breed really thus put politics and life in a nut-shell, he was

certainly somebody.

Footnote 938:

The different paging of the different editions makes it useless to

give exact references. Nor are they wanted; for the “Contents” and

Indices of Carlyle’s works are ideal.

Footnote 939:

Had he been reading Vico?

Footnote 940:

Since the text was written, a full collection of his literary

criticism with many _anepecdota_, has appeared in Messrs Macmillan’s

new edition.

Footnote 941:

Edinburgh, 1899, p. 59.

Footnote 942:

Ibid., note. p. 10.

Footnote 943:

It is all the more remarkable that the writer was “not the first

comer.” He was, I believe, William Smith, the author of _Thorndale_

and other books much prized by good judges, a man of great talents,

wide reading, and admirable character.

Footnote 944:

My copy is the 2nd ed. Mr W. G. Clark’s preface to the 1st is dated

“Ap. 1858,” rather less than a year after Brimley’s death.

Footnote 945:

Cf. Chesterfield’s profound remark to Mme. de Mauconseil, on

Christmas Day 1755: _Il me semble que le mal physique attendrit autant

que le mal moral endurcit le cœur_.

Footnote 946:

This idol had already had notice to quit. The Essay is of 1855, when

it originally appeared in _Cambridge Essays_. Matthew Arnold’s

admirable _Preface_ is two years older.

Footnote 947:

The “Wordsworth” is some years earlier than the “Tennyson.” It

appeared in _Fraser_ during the summer of 1851.

Footnote 948:

He will reappear in the Appendix devoted to holders of the Oxford

Chair of Poetry.

Footnote 949:

In _Friends in Council_.

Footnote 950:

I have slipped from N to O: but it is only next door.

Footnote 951:

London, 1902.

Footnote 952:

_Essays and Reviews_, London, 1876. The other papers—on Macaulay,

Carlyle, Ruskin, George Eliot—are good, but not so good, and show that

difficulty of the mid-century critic in “sticking to _literature_,”

which is the theme of this chapter.

Footnote 953:

London, 1866.

Footnote 954:

London, 1866.

Footnote 955:

That which amused me most is the employment, with the difference, of

the cat-girl simile [_v. sup._, ii. 550]. I am sure I did not take it

from him; and if we both took it from somebody else (to adopt the

comfortable principles of Miss Teresa M’Whirter at the conclusion of

_A Legend of the Rhine_), I do not know who the somebody else was.

Footnote 956:

London, 1852.

Footnote 957:

It is important to notice that he is not _hostile_, he is simply

puzzled. The great method, which emerges first in Dryden, and which

Sainte-Beuve perfected, of “shaking together” different literary

examples, is still dark to him in practice, though, as has been said,

he had a glimpse of its theory.

Footnote 958:

Foster’s interest in literature—real, but very strongly coloured and

conditioned by his moral and religious preoccupations—may be easily

appraised by reading his Essays on “A Man Writing his Own Memoirs” and

“The Epithet Romantic” in Bohn’s Library.

Footnote 959:

Fox has the credit of “discovering” Browning, but there were personal

reasons here. Much more, of course, were there such in A. H. Hallam’s

essay on Tennyson—a rather overrated thing.

Footnote 960:

Rogers is even “mentioned in despatches”—that is, by Sainte-Beuve.

Footnote 961:

See his _Early Essays_ in Bohn’s reprint. The criticism of certain

romantic poets of the mid century would make an interesting excursus

of the kind which I have indicated as (if it were possible) fit to be

included in a fourth volume of this work. Horne’s _New Spirit of the

Age_ (1845), though exhibiting all the singular inadequacies,

inequalities, and _inorganicisms_ of the author of _Orion_, does not

entirely deserve the severe contrast which Thackeray drew between it

and its original as given by Hazlitt. Mrs Browning, who took some part

in this, has left a substantive critical contribution in _The Greek

Christian Poets and the English Poets_, in which again the weaknesses

of the writer in poetry are interestingly compensated by weaknesses in

criticism, but in which again also, and much more, “the critic whom

every poet must [or should] contain” sometimes asserts himself not

unsuccessfully. W. C. Roscoe, whose verse is at least interesting, and

has been thought something more, is critically not negligible. But

perhaps the most interesting document which would have to be treated

in such an excursus is Sydney Dobell’s _Nature of Poetry_, delivered

as a lecture (it must have been something of a choke-pear for the

audience) at Edinburgh in 1857. Here the author, though not

_nominatim_, directly traverses Matthew Arnold’s doctrine in the great

Preface (see next chapter), by maintaining that a perfect poem _will

be_ the exhibition of a perfect mind, and, we may suppose, a less

perfect but still defensible poem the exhibition of a less perfect

mind—which principle, no doubt, is, in any case, the sole possible

justification of _Festus_ and of _Balder_. Others (especially Sir

Henry Taylor) might be added, but these will probably suffice.

Footnote 962:

The immortality of critical error—the impossibility of quelling the

Blatant Beast—to which we have alluded (ii. 554, note) is again

illustrated here. One might have thought that Mr Arnold had

sufficiently crushed and concluded this fallacy. It has been seen

again—in places where it should not have been—in these last few years.

Footnote 963:

This very generous assumption comes, I feel sure, from the blending of

Wordsworth (_v. sup._, on him) with Aristotle.

Footnote 964:

Mr Arnold never explicitly retracted this “pyramidal” exaggeration—it

was not his way; but nearly the whole of his _French Critic on Goethe_

is a transparent “hedge,” a scarcely ambiguous palinode. For the

doctrine itself, see note at end of last chapter.

Footnote 965:

I think Mr Arnold, especially after italicising these words, should

really have told us as a WHAT we are to think of the author of

Shakespeare’s greatest expressions.

Footnote 966:

_V. sup._, i. 116.

Footnote 967:

Those to the manner born or matriculated in it have generally been

kind to him: but then he has given them rather considerable bribes.

Footnote 968:

He has been largely imitated in this, and I cannot help thinking that

it is a pity. If a man is definitely and ostensibly “reviewing”

another man’s work, he has a perfect right, subject to the laws of

good manners, to discuss him _quoad hoc_. But illustrations of general

discourses by dragging in living persons seem to be forbidden by those

laws as they apply in the literary province.

Footnote 969:

This pearl of eighteenth century minor poetry occurs in the 7th (“The

Wallflower”) of its author’s _Fables of Flora_ (Chalmers, xvi. 447). I

think Scott’s unequalled combination of memory and taste has used it

somewhere as a motto.

Footnote 970:

_Gryll Grange_, chap. xiv. Cf. i. 381 note.

Footnote 971:

Vol. i. p. 380. I might, and perhaps should, have introduced an

interesting expression of more moderate opinion from St Basil, the

pupil of Libanius, and the fellow-student of Julian. But I am glad

that I did not, because I can introduce it here with an reference to

the interesting translation published with Plutarch’s _How to Read

Poetry_ (_v. sup._, i. 140), by Professor Paculford of the University

of Washington (“Yale Studies,” No. xv.: New York, 1932). The Saint

allows the study of the purer profane literature as a useful and

ornamental _introduction_ to higher things.

Footnote 972:

Not that he is wholly wrong in regard to either: while he does allow

some of the almost unbelievable absurdities of Brooke’s eccentric,

though far from “unimportant,” purpose-novel. But it is evident—and,

indeed, confessed—that he is thinking of the ethical tone and spirit

first, midmost, and almost last also.

Footnote 973:

Not, again, that the _Short Studies_ especially can be neglected, even

from our point of view.

Footnote 974:

I have purposely taken all these examples from the _Selections_, where

they will be easily found.

Footnote 975:

The Essays comprising this, with their sequel and complement _The

Inner Life of Art_, appeared in the _Fortnightly Review_ (which Lewes

edited) at its beginning in 1865, and have been usefully reprinted by

Mr T. S. Knowlson (London, n. d.) I may observe that the cheap and

useful collection (the “Scott Library”) in which this reprint appears

provides a large amount of other valuable critical matter.

Footnote 976:

Chap. iii. p. 47 _sq._, ed. cit.

Footnote 977:

Ibid., p. 113.

Footnote 978:

Excepting (largely) the exceptions already made, and also the huge

mass of his unreprinted contributions to newspapers. _The Leader_,

under his editorship, was a pioneer of improvement in reviewing.

Footnote 979:

The posthumous _Literary Studies_, and Mr Hutton’s essay (_v._ ed.

cit. on next paragraph), are the places for studying him. The study

may result, without protest from me, in a high opinion of his

criticism.

Footnote 980:

2 vols., London, 1894.

Footnote 981:

I fully expect to be told by some critic that there is no such book,

just as I once was told that Browning wrote no such poem as _James

Lee_.

Footnote 982:

Printed by Mr Gosse (London, 1896) privately: but I believe it has

been included in the complete edition.

Footnote 983:

I have always wondered what made him think that I personally prefer

plain to ornate prose. The contrary, if it were of any moment, happens

to be the case, though I own I think, as even De Quincey thought, that

the ornate styles are not styles of all work.

Footnote 984:

Nor do I think the “Postscript” of _Appreciations_, where the writer

“Arnoldises” somewhat, one of his best things, good as it is.

Footnote 985:

Especially in his numerous volumes of Essays and Studies, under

various names.

Footnote 986:

London, 1895.

Footnote 987:

A “pair” for Mr Symonds from the other University might be found in

the late Mr Frederick Myers, who, with more philosophical and less

artistic tendency, exhibited an equally _flamboyant_ style.

Footnote 988:

Its chief monuments or repertories are _Essays and Phantasies_

(London, 1881) and _Poems, Essays, and Fragments_ (London, 1892).

Footnote 989:

On men like Shelley and Blake, of course, Thomson was free from most

of his “Satans”: and he speaks well on them.

Footnote 990:

His _Defoe_, in the _English Men of Letters_ Series, is not to be

overlooked.

Footnote 991:

_Manual of English Prose Literature_ (Edinburgh, 1872);

_Characteristics of English Poets, from Chaucer to Shirley_

(Edinburgh, 1874).

Footnote 992:

I do not know whether he contributed to anything before that

remarkable periodical _The Dark Blue_, which, during its short life in

the earliest 'Seventies, had a staff not easily surpassable, and

almost reminding one of the earlier English _London Magazine_ and of

the French _Globe_.

Footnote 993:

Both in the _English Men of Letters_. The _Sterne_ appeared in 1882;

the _Coleridge_ in 1884.

Footnote 994:

_The New Fiction and other Essays on Literary Subjects_ (London,

1897).

Footnote 995:

See his _Letters, Lectures, and Reviews_: London, 1873.

Footnote 996:

Especially in _Horæ Sabbaticæ_.

Footnote 997:

London, 1873.

Footnote 998:

London, 1889.

Footnote 999:

London, 1893.

Footnote 1000:

I do not mean that they were rubbish there. Rubbish is only “matter in

the wrong place,” and what is rubbish in a book need by no means be

rubbish in a newspaper.

Footnote 1001:

London, 1880.

Footnote 1002:

2 vols., London, 1887.

Footnote 1003:

Such as even Gautier.

Footnote 1004:

This sensibleness, no doubt, ought always to characterise the “Tertium

Quid” or “cross-bench” mind. It is equally indubitable that it most

commonly does not.

Footnote 1005:

_T. Q._, vol. ii.

Footnote 1006:

I do not take special notice of R. L. Stevenson here, because his

criticism, in any formal shape, belongs mainly to the earlier and

tentative stage of his work, and never, to my fancy, had much fixity

or grip, interesting and stimulating as it is. I ventured to tell him,

when I met him first, after the appearance of _The New Arabian Nights_

in _London_, that _here_ was Apollo waiting for him, not there: and I

hold to the view. Others, such as Mr Henley (with whom also I rowed in

that galley—a tight and saucy one, if not exactly a _galère

capitaine_), Mr Robert Buchanan, Sir Leslie Stephen, Prof. Bain, have

passed away too recently; and yet others must fall into the _numerus_.

Footnote 1007:

Bk. VIII.

Footnote 1008:

In accordance with the absolute frankness which I have imposed upon

myself, I shall confess here that my knowledge of the most modern

German literature is much less complete than my knowledge of French

and English.

Footnote 1009:

I use the Cotta ed., in 13 vols.

Footnote 1010:

The passage in the opening of the _Reisebilder_ ought to be

sufficiently well known.

Footnote 1011:

Ed. cit., vii. 172 and 215.

Footnote 1012:

_Vermischte Schriften_, xii. 175

Footnote 1013:

x. 225.

Footnote 1014:

They should specially not read him on Börne.

Footnote 1015:

Vol. iv., ed. cit.

Footnote 1016:

The chief are at iv. 230 and x. 250.

Footnote 1017:

Especially vii. 185 _sq._

Footnote 1018:

vii. 239 _sq._

Footnote 1019:

x. 216.

Footnote 1020:

An excellent subject for one of those D.Litt. theses by which we are

at last going to put ourselves on the level of Germany (to the

satisfaction of persons who write about Education) would be “The

_Reisebilder_ considered as an Allegory of Criticism, with some

remarks on their excursions into Category.”

Footnote 1021:

Ed. Cotta. I have not yet worked with the newer, and it is said

better, ed. of Reclam.

Footnote 1022:

Vols. 8-11 of the Cotta ed. It is from these that the material of

_Schopenhauer’s Art of Literature_, translated by Mr Bailey Saunders

(London, 1891), is taken. The excellence of Mr Saunders’s version is a

matter of common consent. I am not quite so certain about his

reconstitution of contexts, which is sometimes rather too much on a

par with the taxidermic exploits of the late Mr Waterton; and he has

left out some piquant things. But the advantage of opening such

precious matter to merely English readers not only excuses this but

makes excuse unnecessary.

Footnote 1023:

Has any other German ever written quite such good prose as

Schopenhauer’s?

Footnote 1024:

_P. und P._, § 320, ed. cit., xi. 251.

Footnote 1025:

In chap. xxiii. of _P. und P._, “Über Schriftstellerei und Stil.” Mr.

Bailey Saunders isolates the Style part.

Footnote 1026:

_P. und P._, § 384; _Art. of. Lit._, p. 6.

Footnote 1027:

See chap. xxii. _Selbstdenken_. Schopenhauer’s maxim, “Reading is a

mere _succedaneum_ (“Surrogat”) for thinking oneself,” at once shows

what he means, and invites the reply, “Yes: but a man who knows how to

read always makes his reading the seed of his thought.”

Footnote 1028:

§ 287. _Art. of Lit._, p. 11.

Footnote 1029:

§ 244. _Art. of Lit._ composes its section “on Criticism” of part of

this context and another. The whole of the original chapter xx., “Über

Urtheil, Kritik, Beifall und Ruhren,” is important, though the

writer’s own soreness betrays itself, as usual, rather too much.

Footnote 1030:

For the origin of the section thus headed in _Art. of Lit._, see back

to chap. iii. of this part of _P. und P._

Footnote 1031:

Book III. and App.

Footnote 1032:

§ 39.

Footnote 1033:

App. on Poetry.

Footnote 1034:

§ 51.

Footnote 1035:

_V. sup._, ii. 86.

Footnote 1036:

One could develop, with special relevance, the philosopher’s

peremptory limitation of the attractive season of womankind to the

time between the ages of eighteen and eight-and-twenty: and his

positive anathema on the _retroussé_ nose. It is astonishing how this

feature disturbs critics! Cf. Lessing, Alison, Carrière, &c.

Footnote 1037:

Ed. Cotta, Works, vols. xv.-xviii. The two vols. of _Letters_ and

_Pocketbooks_, with which this edition has been reinforced since I

wrote the text, add very much to our knowledge of Grillparzer’s

personality, and something to that of his critical position: but need

change nothing in the estimate above given.

Footnote 1038:

Vol. xv.

Footnote 1039:

xv. 24. The “peace” of Boccaccio and the “peace” of Dante combined!

Footnote 1040:

Ibid.

Footnote 1041:

xv. 27.

Footnote 1042:

xv. 35-45.

Footnote 1043:

P. 40.

Footnote 1044:

P. 49.

Footnote 1045:

P. 58.

Footnote 1046:

P. 62, and elsewhere.

Footnote 1047:

xv. 163. “Die Betrachtung tödtet, weil sie die Personlichkeit aufhebt:

die Bemerkung erfrischt, denn sie erregt und unterstützt die

Thätigkeit.” “Consideration” and “Observation” come nearest: but they

are not fully adequate.

Footnote 1048:

P. 176.

Footnote 1049:

Filling the other three vols.

Footnote 1050:

xvi. 158.

Footnote 1051:

xviii. 97, 98. There is, not a judgment, but a curious mixture of

compliment and fling on him, at p. 130, on which _v. inf._

Footnote 1052:

xvi. 175.

Footnote 1053:

xvi. 185.

Footnote 1054:

xviii. 41.

Footnote 1055:

xviii. 47-74.

Footnote 1056:

xviii. 36. Grillparzer evidently did not care much for “woodnotes.”

Footnote 1057:

See xviii. 12-24, and other places in the index of that volume.

Footnote 1058:

See Scherer’s _History of German Literature_ under this name.

Grillparzer himself, at Schreyvogel’s death, regrets (xviii. 130) the

loss of his literary opinion, and says that there is no one left in

Germany with whom he could talk in the same way “except perhaps Heine,

if he were not intrinsically a scurvy _patronus_.”

Footnote 1059:

Mr Bosanquet.

Footnote 1060:

2 vols., Leipzig, 1859. Its constant and ingenious _illustration_, and

the substantive importance given to Poetic, are its claims to

admission here.

Footnote 1061:

Of course they have their merits, and have had their uses. In material

criticism often; in textual criticism sometimes; in merely _dramatic_

criticism not seldom, they are useful to those who want these things.

But then, as Mr Locker’s immortal friend at the “Travellers” said

about the company next door, “One _doesn’t_ want them, you know,” or,

rather, one wants something else and something more.

Footnote 1062:

I use the Leipsic ed., 5 vols., 1871-74.

Footnote 1063:

v. 37.

Footnote 1064:

_Shakespeare-studien_: Stuttgart, 1866. One of M. Scherer’s best short

criticisms is devoted to this book (_Études_, vol. vi., translated by

the present writer in _Essays on English Literature_, by E. Scherer:

London, 1891). But the original deserves reading. It is not much

against it that the author relied on forgeries to some extent. The

religion of “the document” almost necessarily passes into the

superstition of the forgery.

Footnote 1065:

Vol. xiv. of his _Works_ (Leipzig, 1887). The Preface is dated 1863.

Footnote 1066:

7 vols., Berlin, 1874-85. There is a newer edition, I believe. As long

ago as 1868 he had published, in French and at Paris, a volume of

_Études Historiques et Littéraires_, and he did much else.

Footnote 1067:

His Works are now obtainable in several forms, there being two

_complete_ editions (Leipzig, n. d.), which give all the work

published during his lifetime, in 8 vols., and a still lengthening

tail of _Remains_ (7 vols. up to 1904), and several others of separate

works. Writing on him has been exceedingly copious, “he has become a

name”: but there is probably no sounder and fairer contribution to the

_Um-Nietzschung_ of Nietzsche, from a portent into an intelligible

phenomenon, than Professor Pringle-Pattison’s Essay in the 2nd ed. of

_Man’s Place in the Cosmos_ (Edinburgh, 1902).

Footnote 1068:

_Der Fall Wagner_, p. 36 and elsewhere.

Footnote 1069:

I was pleased, in reading Nietzsche, after I had written the section

above on Grillparzer, and when I had already assigned Hillebrand’s

place here, to find him frequently quoting the Austrian dramatist with

respect, and definitely selecting the other as the representative

German critic of his time.

Footnote 1070:

_V. inf._ The two books which preceded this, _Menschliches

Allzumenschliches_ and _Morgenröthe_, are also almost purely ethical,

though the extensive handling of moral philosophers in the past is

necessarily literary too.

Footnote 1071:

It would be improper to dwell on this point here. I hope to do more

justice to Nietzsche’s purely literary side elsewhere.

Footnote 1072:

This word has been objected to by precisians. But it has the authority

of Thackeray: and if it had none, it is exactly the word wanted for a

certain flagrant quality of the latest nineteenth century, and more

especially for the _ethos_ of Nietzsche. With all his originality in

form, he is simply parasitic in fact. He can only deny and pervert and

“topsyturvify” the established and accepted. The _Uebermensch_ himself

is much more an “_Un_mensch,” who is not to be God but an un-God. And

the philosopher’s famous syllogism, “There cannot be a God, or why am

_I_ not one if there is?” amounts simply to a turning topsyturvy of

the much sounder and in fact unanswerable argument, “There must be a

God; for _I_ am not one.”

Footnote 1073:

Even later his alleged doctrine of “Recurrence”—not his most repugnant

to poetry, or philosophy, or religion itself—was only an echo of the

carpenter in _Peter Simple_!

Footnote 1074:

_Beleidigende Klarheit._

Footnote 1075:

_Ein Geist der entnervt._

Footnote 1076:

He somewhere speaks of Stendhal and Dostoieffsky as his “two great

discoveries.” A curious fling by implication at Baudelaire means, I

think, only that Baudelaire had the impudence to admire Wagner.

Footnote 1077:

_Falschmünzler._

Footnote 1078:

16th ed., pp. x, 756 (Città di Castello, 1902).

Footnote 1079:

One famous person may be noted exceptionally. A critic who held

political and other views contrary to Mazzini’s, and who thought (as

too many critics have apparently thought) that it is lawful to wreak

vengeance in the literary sphere for sins committed elsewhere, would

have a considerable opportunity with Mazzini himself, as a critic. He

has written not a little apparently of the kind, and about very

important persons—Dante, Goethe, Byron, Mr Carlyle, papers on all of

whom will be found in Mr William Clarke’s useful English edition of

Mazzini’s selected Essays (London, n.d.) He has said things for which,

if one were a Veuillot, one could, in Veuillot’s own phrase, “promise

him sensations.” But this is not _our_ way. One soon sees (in fact, I

think, he frankly confesses it in more than one place) that the writer

is not thinking of these great writers as writers at all, nor of their

books as books. He is thinking of their relation, actual or by

ingenuity representable, towards his idol of “Collective Humanity,”

and he is talking, as he is thinking, of nothing else. We have nothing

here to do with Collective Humanity, but much with the Humanities,

which are different: and so he escapes our jurisdiction. Perhaps a

good many more modern Italians would do the same, that influence of

Vico, which we noted in Signor Croce, being very strong in them.

Footnote 1080:

_Saggi Critici_, _v. inf._

Footnote 1081:

Naples (2nd ed.), 1869.

Footnote 1082:

Naples, 1872.

Footnote 1083:

Sismondi—French-writing, Swiss-born, Italian by origin—may seem to

claim admission, if only for his _Littérature du Midi_: but I think

not.

Footnote 1084:

3 vols., Bâle, 1829-30.

Footnote 1085:

2 vols., Paris, 1851.

Footnote 1086:

2nd ed., 3 vols., Paris, 1857.

Footnote 1087:

A very large part (about two-thirds) of the 1st volume is occupied by

Chateaubriand.

Footnote 1088:

Lamartine (with whom Vinet is, of course, more _comfortable_) and Hugo

have about three-fourths of the 2nd vol. between them. In this and the

3rd, Béranger, Delavigne, Sainte-Beuve, Quinet, Michelet, and many

others, figure.

Footnote 1089:

ii. 387-412.

Footnote 1090:

It is fair to say that much of his work, being posthumously published,

_is_ lecture, and might, if he had lived, have been worked up by him

into a better form.

Footnote 1091:

In the article on Saint-Marc Girardin, which concludes the third

volume.

Footnote 1092:

8th ed., 2 vols., Geneva, 1901.

Footnote 1093:

Nor can I recognise his description of Amiel’s treatment of a literary

subject at p. xix of the Introduction—“Il l’embrasse, mais au dehors.”

Alas! the Lucretian _nequicquam_ comes in here again: but I should say

that few men’s critical embraces were more intimate than Amiel’s,

brief as they are.

Footnote 1094:

i. 12.

Footnote 1095:

i. 17.

Footnote 1096:

i. 69.

Footnote 1097:

i. 129.

Footnote 1098:

The _entrefilet_ of the 7th of November 1862 on _la critique

indifférente_, though it quite certainly is not meant wholly or even

mainly for literary criticism, should not be missed.

Footnote 1099:

i. 167, April 24, 1862; and i. 176-183, January 8 and 13, April 8,

1863.

Footnote 1100:

i. 194; ii. 219.

Footnote 1101:

i. 229.

Footnote 1102:

ii. 110.

Footnote 1103:

On German “vulgarity,” p. 112 (with which an acute passage on Goethe

at p. 120 should be compared); on the two poetesses, Louisa Siefert

and Mme. Ackermann (141 and 174); a valiant promulgation of the truth

that most fear to speak, “There is no Progress” (167); notes on M.

Coppée (200); Hugo again (228); La Fontaine (232); Laprade (280);

Stendhal (286).

Footnote 1104:

It does not seem necessary to follow the lines of the earlier

Interchapters by summarising distributively the critical results of

the period in different countries and phases. The very indefiniteness

of the whole establishes a community which can be generally pointed

out.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I.

THE OXFORD CHAIR OF POETRY.

THE HOLDERS—EIGHTEENTH CENTURY MINORS—LOWTH— HURDIS—THE RALLY:

COPLESTON—CONYBEARE— MILMAN—KEBLE—THE ‘OCCASIONAL [ENGLISH] PAPERS’—

THE ‘PRÆLECTIONS’—GARBETT—CLAUGHTON— DOYLE—SHAIRP—PALGRAVE—

“SALUTANTUR VIVI.”

(_I have thought this sketch worth giving, partly as an example of the

kind of excursus which might be appended, perhaps not without some

advantage, and certainly in some numbers, to this History. But I give it

also because it illustrates—in a manner which cannot be elsewhere

paralleled at all in our own country, and to which I know no Continental

parallel—by a continuous and unbroken chain of instances and

applications, the course of European as well as English theory,

practice, and taste in Criticism, from a period when the Neo-classic

creed was still in at least apparently fullest flourishing, through

nearly two whole centuries, to what, in the eye of history, is the

present moment. The enforced vacation of the Chair after a single decade

at most, and its filling by popular election, and not by the choice of

an individual or a board, add to its representative character: and the

usual publication of at least some of the results, in each case, makes

that character almost uniquely discoverable in its continuity, while

even the change of vehicles from Latin to English is not without its

importance. There is no room here—and it would perhaps be unnecessary in

any case—to anticipate the easy labour of summarising its lessons. But I

think they may be said to emphasise the warning—frequently given or

hinted already—that the result of the altered conditions and laws of

criticism is not clear gain. No part of Mr Arnold’s best critical work

was, I think, done for the Chair; and I should myself be inclined to

select, as the best work actually done for it, that of Keble, who

represents the combination of the old Classical-Preceptist tradition,

with something of the new comparison and free expatiation, as well as

very much of the purely appreciative tendency._)

[Sidenote: _The holders._]

This Chair—founded by Henry Birkhead, D.C.L., a Trinity man, a Fellow of

All Souls, and a member of the Inner Temple—began its operations in

1708, the conditions of its tenure (which have only recently been

altered) providing for a first holding of five years, a single renewal

for the same period, and a sort of rotation, in the sense that the same

college could not supply two successive occupants. The actual incumbents

have been: 1708-18, Trapp; 1718-28, Thomas Warton the elder; 1728-38,

Spence; 1738-41, John Whitf(i)eld; 1741-51 (the most distinguished name

as yet), Lowth; 1751-56, William Hawkins; 1756-66, Thomas Warton the

younger; 1766-76, Benjamin Wheeler; 1776-83, Randolph; 1783-93, Holmes;

1793 to 1802, Hurdis. With the nineteenth century a brighter order

begins, all but one or two of the Professors having made their mark out

of the Chair as well as in it. They were: Copleston, 1802-12; Conybeare,

1812-21; Milman, 1821-31; Keble, 1831-42; Garbett (the dark star of this

group, but, as we shall see, not quite lightless), 1842-52; Claughton,

1852-57; Matthew Arnold, 1857-67; Sir Francis Doyle, 1867-77; Principal

Shairp, 1877-87; Mr Palgrave, 1887-95; while of living occupants Mr

Courthope resigned the Chair after a single tenure; and Mr Bradley was

elected to it under a statutory limitation to this term.

[Sidenote: _Eighteenth century minors._]

Of these, Trapp, Spence, the younger Warton, and Arnold have received

notice in the text, which would have been theirs had they never held the

Chair. The lucubrations of the first held for some time an honourable

place as an accepted handbook on the subject. Spence, profiting by the

almost Elysian tolerance of his sensible century, and finding that

neither residence nor lecturing was insisted on, seems to have resided

very little, and to have lectured hardly or not at all. Tom Warton the

younger, whose _History_ would have dignified any _cathedra_, appears to

have devoted himself during his actual tenure entirely to the classics,

and never to have published any of his lectures except one on

Theocritus. His father, in the interval between the respectable labours

of Trapp and the philosophical silence of Spence, had earned no golden

opinions, and though the repeated attacks of Amherst in _Terræ Filius_

may have been due partly to political rancour, and partly to that

ingenious and unlucky person’s incorrigible Ishmaelitism, it seems to

have been admitted that the Professor’s understanding and erudition lay

very open to criticism, and that his elocution and manner were not such

as could shield them. Of Whitfield, Hawkins, Wheeler, Randolph, and

Holmes, what I have been able to gather may best be set in a note.[1105]

The first person to make any real figure in and for the Chair was the

author of _De Sacra Poesi Hebræorum_, which at once attained not merely

an English but a European reputation.

[Sidenote: _Lowth._]

To discuss the Hebrew scholarship of this famous book (which was first

published in 1753, and repeatedly reprinted, revised, translated,

attacked, defended) would be wholly out of place here, even if the

writer had not almost wholly forgotten the little Hebrew he learnt at

school. It is still, I believe—even by specialists with no general

knowledge of literature—admitted to have been epoch-making in its

insistence on the parallelism of Hebrew poetry. But to those who take

the historical view of literature and of criticism its place is secure

quite apart from this. Not merely in the Renaissance, but in the Middle

and even the Dark Ages, the matter of the Bible had been used to

parallel and illustrate rhetorical and literary doctrines and rules. But

Lowth was almost the first to treat its poetical forms from something

like the standpoint of sound comparative literary criticism.[1106] Now

this, as the whole tenor of our book has gone to contend, was the chief

and principal thing that had to be done. If we have any advantage over

the men of old, it is that we (or some of us) have at last mastered the

fact that one literature or one language cannot _prescribe_ anything to

another, but that it may _teach_ much. And this new instance of a

literature—unique in special claims to reverence, unique likewise in the

fact that in its best examples it could owe nothing to those Greeks and

Romans who have so beneficently but so tyrannously influenced all the

modern tongues—was invaluable in its quality and almost incalculable in

its moment. That Lowth’s exposition resulted directly or indirectly in

not a little maladroit _imitation_ of Hebrew poetry was not his fault;

his critical lesson was wholly good.

[Sidenote: _Hurdis._]

Hurdis, a person now very much forgotten, had his day of interest and of

something like position. He is not unfrequently quoted by writers,

especially by Southey, of the great period of 1800-1830, which he a

little preceded, and he has the honour—rare for so recent a writer—of a

whole article[1107] on his poems in the _Retrospective Review_. As a

poet he was mainly an imitator of his friend Cowper—a fact which, with

the title of his chief work, _The Village Curate_, will give intending

or declining readers a sufficiently exact idea of what they are

undertaking or relinquishing. Easy blank verse, abundant and often not

infelicitous description, and unexceptionable though slightly copybook

sentiments,[1108] form his poetic or versifying staple. As a critic I

regret to find that my note on him is “Chatter”: and I do not know

anything of his that makes me, on reflection, think this unjust.

[Sidenote: _The rally: Copleston._]

I should be half afraid that the interest which I feel in the next set

of Prælections, those of Edward Copleston,—“_the_ Provost,” as he

anticipated Hawkins in being to Oxford men, even not of his own college

of Oriel,—might be set down to that _boulimia_ or morbid appetite for

critical writings of which I have been accused, if I had not at hand a

very potent compurgator. Keble, it is true, was a personal friend of

Copleston’s. But he was not at all the man to let personal friendship,

any more than personal enmity, bias his judgment; and he was admirably

qualified to judge. Yet he says deliberately[1109] that the book “is by

far the most distinct, and the richest in matter, of any which it has

fallen to our lot to read on the subject.” I cannot myself go quite so

far as that, and I doubt whether Keble himself would have gone so far

when, twenty years later, he wrote his own exquisite Lectures; but I can

go a long way towards it.

The future Provost and Bishop has, indeed, other critical proofs on

which to rely,[1110]—the famous and excellent “Advice to a Young

Reviewer,” which I fear is just as much needed, and just as little

heeded, as it was a hundred years ago, the admirable smashing of the

_Edinburgh’s_ attack on Oxford, and other matters,—but the

_Prælections_[1111] are the chief and principal thing. Keble insisted

that they ought to be Englished, but I am not so sure. They form one of

the _severest_ critical treatises with which I am acquainted; and some

of the features of this severity would, I think, appear positively

uninviting in English dress, while they consistently and perfectly suit

the toga and the sandal. But I must explain a little more fully in what

this “severity” consists; for the word is ambiguous. I do not mean that

Copleston rejects Pleasure as the end of Poetry; for, on the contrary,

he writes _Delectare_ boldly on his shield, and omits _prodesse_ save as

an indirect consequence. I do not mean that he is a very Draconic critic

of particulars, though he can speak his mind trenchantly enough.[1112]

Nor do I mean that he is a very abstract writer; for every page is

strewn with concrete illustrations, very well selected, and, for the

most part, un-hackneyed.

His severity is rather of the ascetic and “methodist” kind; he

resembles nothing so much as a preceptist of the school of

Hermogenes, who should have discarded triviality, and risen to very

nearly the weight and substance of Aristotle. At the very beginning

he makes a statute for himself, to cite no literature but Greek and

Latin, and to use no language but these. And he never breaks either

rule; for though, on rare occasions, he refers to English writers—

Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Burke, Reynolds[1113]—it is a reference

only to books, or poems, or passages, never a citation. And in the

second place his method is throughout—constant as is his use of the

actual poetic object-lesson—to proceed by general categories, not of

poetic kinds (he shuns that ancient and now well-beaconed

quicksand[1114]) but of qualities, constituents, means. His whole

book, after a brief definition or apology for not defining, is

distributed under four parts,—Of Imitation, Of the Emotions, Of

Imagination (Phantasia), and Of Judgment,—though he never reached

the fourth,[1115] owing to his tenure of the Chair coming to an end.

After a pretty full discussion of the nature and subject of

Imitation, he makes his link with his next subject by dwelling on

the _Imitatio morum_, and so of the Passions themselves. In this

part a very large share is given to the subject of _Sententiæ_—

“sentiments,” as Keble translates it, though, as I have pointed out

formerly,[1116] no single translation of the word is at all

satisfactory. The section on Imagination is very interesting.

Copleston is at a sort of middle stage between the restricted

Addisonian and the wide Philostratean-Shakespearean-Coleridgean

interpretation of the word. He expressly admits that other senses

besides sight can supply the material of _Phantasia_; but his

examples are mainly drawn from material which _is_ furnished by the

sight, and his inclusions of Allegory, Mythology, &c., with other

things, sometimes smack of an insufficient discrimination between

Imagination and Fancy. Indeed the fact that he is Præ-Coleridgean

helps to give him his interest.

Keble mildly complains that Copleston does not make use of that doctrine

of Association which he himself, writing so early, had perhaps adopted,

not from Coleridge but direct from Hartley. We have, in our day, seen

this doctrine worked to death and sent to the knacker’s in philosophy

generally; but there is no doubt that it can never be neglected in

poetry, being, perhaps, the most universal (though by no means _the_

universal) means of approach to the sources of the poetic pleasure. It

does not, however, seem to me that Copleston intended to mount so high,

or go so far back: his aim was, I think, more rhetorical, according to a

special fashion, than metacritical. But his mediate axioms are numerous

and often very informing: and his illustrations, as has been said,

abundant, really illustrative, and singularly recreative. He lays most

Latin and many Greek poets under contribution; but some of his most

effective examples are drawn from a poet whom he does not critically

overvalue, but who has no doubt been, as a rule, critically undervalued,

and for whom he himself evidently had a discriminating affection—that is

to say, Claudian.

On the whole, the appearance of a book of this scope and scheme, at the

very junction of the centuries and the ’isms, Classic and Romantic, is

of singular interest. Until intelligent study of the Higher Rhetoric—

reformed, adjusted, and extended—has been reintroduced, such another

will not come. But such another might come with very great advantage,

and would supply a very important _tertium quid_ to the mere Æsthetics

and to the sheer Impressionism between which Criticism has too often

divided itself.

[Sidenote: _Conybeare._]

There is almost as much significance in Copleston’s successor, though it

is a significance of a different kind. For J. J. Conybeare was the first

Professor of Poetry to bestow attention on Anglo-Saxon (Warton, even in

his _History_, had not gone, with any knowledge, beyond Middle English),

and so to complete the survey of all English Literature. Before his

appointment he had held, as its first occupant, the chair of Anglo-Saxon

itself; and while Professor of Poetry he was a country parson. He died

suddenly and comparatively young, and his remarkable _Illustrations of

Anglo-Saxon Poetry_[1117] were published after his death by his brother,

who is actually responsible for a good part of its matter, so that the

book is a composite one. It is thus mainly in its general significance—

for Conybeare’s Prælections as Professor were not, so far as I know,

published—that it is valuable for us. But the value thus given is

unmistakable. Conybeare’s individual judgments and _aperçus_ are always

interesting, and often acute; but his real importance lies in the fact

that he was almost the first—though Mitford, after Ellis, had attempted

the thing as an outsider—to move back the focussing-point sufficiently

to get _all_ English Literature under view. Nothing could serve more

effectually to break up the false standing-ground of the eighteenth

century.

[Sidenote: _Milman._]

A curious but perhaps not surprising thing about Milman’s Professorship

is that it aroused the ire of an undergraduate poet of the rarest though

of the most eccentric type—namely, Beddoes. If Milman really did

“denounce” _Death’s Jest-Book_,[1118] it is a pity that his lectures

were (so far as I know) never printed, or at least collected, for there

might have been more such things of the fatally interesting kind which

establishes the rule that Professors should not deal, in their lectures,

with contemporary literature. It was certainly unlucky for a man to

begin by objecting in one official capacity to _Death’s Jest-Book_, and

to end by objecting in another to Stevens’s Wellington Monument. And

that Milman had generally the character of a harsh and donnish critic is

obvious, from Byron’s well-known suggestion of him as a possible

candidate for the authorship of the _Quarterly_ article on Keats, though

the rhyme of “kill man” may have had something to do with this. If he

wrote much literary criticism we have little of it in the volume of

_Essays_ which his son published, after his death, in 1870. Even on

Erasmus—surely a tempting subject—he manages to be as little literary as

is possible, and rather less than one might have thought to be; and his

much better-known _Histories_ are not more so.

[Sidenote: _Keble._]

A history of criticism and literary taste in Europe, from the earliest texts to the present day. Volume 3 (of 3), Modern criticism · 第 18 / 19 章