CHAPTER VII. FAUST. ALTHOUGH the First Part of Faust was not published until 1806, it was already completed before Schiller's death, and may therefore be fitly noticed in this place. For more than thirty years had the work been growing in its author's mind, and although its precise chronology is not ascertainable, yet an approximation is possible which will not be without service to the student. The Faust-fable was familiar to Goethe as a child. In Strasburg, during 1770-71, he conceived the idea of fusing his personal experience into the mould of the old legend; but he wrote nothing of the work until 1774-75, when the ballad of the King of Thule, the first monologue, and the first scene with Wagner, were written; and during his love affair with Lili, he sketched Gretchen's catastrophe, the scene in the street, the scene in Gretchen's bedroom, the scenes between Faust and Mephisto during the walk, and in the street, and the garden scene. In his Swiss journey, he sketched the first interview with Mephisto and the compact; also the scene before the city gates, the plan of Helena (subsequently much modified), the scene between the student and Mephisto, and Auerbach's cellar. When in Italy, he read over the old manuscript, and wrote the scenes of the witches' kitchen and the cathedral; also the monologue in the forest. In 1797, the whole was re modelled. Then were added the two Prologues, the Walpurgis night, and the dedication. In 1801, he completed it, as it now stands, retouching it perhaps in 1806, when it was published. Let us now with some carefulness examine this child of so much care. The cock in Esop scratched a pearl into the light of day, and declared that to him it was less valuable than a grain of millet seed. The pearl is only a pearl to him who knows its value. And so it is with fine subjects: they are only fine in the hands of great artists. Where the requisite power exists, a happy subject is a fortune; without that power, it only serves to place incompetence in broader light. Mediocre poets have tried their 'prentice hands at Faust; poets of undeniable genius have tried to master it; Goethe alone has seen in it the subject to which his genius was fully adequate; and has produced from it the greatest poem of modern times: A tale divine, of high and passionate thoughts, Although genius can find material in the trifles ordinary minds pass heedlessly by, it is only a very few subjects which permit the full display of genius. The peculiarities of a man's organization and education invest certain subjects with a charm and a significance which they have not to others. Such was Der Freischütz for Weber; the maternity of the Madonna for Raphael; Faust for Goethe. Thus it is that a fine subject becomes the pedestal whereon genius may stand in the unconstrained display of full proportions; or we may call it the marble out of which the lasting monument is carved. Quite beyond my purpose and my limits would be any account of the various materials, historical and æsthetical, which German literature has gathered into one vast section on Faust and the Faust legend. There is not a single detail which has not exercised the industry and ingenuity of commentators, so that the curious need complain of no lack of informants. English readers will find in the translations by Hayward and Blackie a reasonable amount of such information pleasantly given; German readers will only have the embarrassment of a choice. Far more important than all learned apparatus, is the attempt to place ourselves at the right point of view for studying and enjoying this wondrous poem, the popularity of which is almost unexampled. It appeals to all minds with the irresistible fascination of an eternal problem, and with the charm of endless variety. It has every element: wit, pathos, wisdom. buffoonery, mystery, melody, reverence, doubt, magic and irony; not a chord of the lyre is unstrung, not a fibre of the heart untouched. Students earnestly wrestling with doubt, striving to solve the solemn riddles of life, feel their pulses strangely agitated by this poem; and not students alone, but as Heine says, every billiard-marker in Germany puzzles himself over it. In Faust we see, as in a mirror, the eternal problem of our intellectual existence; and, beside it, the varied lineaments of our social existence. It is at once a problem and a picture. Therein lies its fascination. The problem embraces all questions of vital importance; the picture represents all opinions, all sentiments, all classes, moving on the stage of life. The great problem is stated in all its nudity; the picture is painted in all its variety. This twofold nature of the work explains its popularity; and, what is more to our purpose, gives the clue to its secret of composition; a clue which all the critics I am acquainted with have overlooked; and although I cannot but feel that considerable suspicion must attach itself to any opinion claiming novelty on so old a subject, I hope the contents of this chapter will furnish sufficient evidence in support of the theory, to justify its acceptance.* The conviction first arose in my mind as the result of an inquiry into the causes of the popularity of Hamlet. The two works are so allied, and so associated together in every mind, that the criticism of the one will be certain to throw light on the other. Hamlet, in spite of a prejudice current in certain circles. that if now produced for the first time it would fail, is the most popular play in our language. It amuses thousands. annually, and it stimulates the minds of millions. Performed in barns and minor theatres oftener than in Theatres Royal, it is always and everywhere attractive. The lowest and most ignorant audiences delight in it. The source of the delight is twofold: First, its sublimity and reach of thought on topics the most profound; for the dullest soul can feel a grandeur which it cannot understand, and will listen with hushed awe to the outpourings of a great meditative mind obstinately questioning fate: Secondly, its wondrous dramatic variety. Only consider for a moment the striking effects it has in the Ghost; the tyrant murderer; the terrible adulterous queen; the melancholy hero, doomed to so awful a fate; the poor Ophelia, broken-hearted and dying in madness; the play within a play, entrapping the conscience of the King; the ghastly mirth of grave-diggers; the funeral of Ophelia interrupted by a quarrel over her grave betwixt her brother and her lover; and finally the hurried, bloody dénouement. Such are the figures woven on the tapestry by passion and * It may obviate misconception, to state that the basis of this chapter is an essay I wrote on the Three Fausts in the British and Foreign Review, vol. xviii. poetry. Add thereto the absorbing fascination of profound thoughts. It may indeed be called the tragedy of thought, for there is as much reflection as action in it; but the reflection itself is made dramatic, and hurries the breathless audience along with an interest which knows no pause. Strange it is to notice in this work the indissoluble union of refinement with horrors, of reflection with tumult, of high and delicate poetry with broad, palpable, theatrical effects. The machinery is a machinery of horrors, physical and mental: ghostly apparitions - hideous revelations of incestuous adultery and murder-madness - Polonius killed like a rat while listening behind the arras grave-diggers casting skulls upon the stage and desecrating the churchyard with their mirth these and other horrors form the machinery by which moves the highest, the grandest and the most philosophic of tragedies. It is not difficult to see how a work so prodigal should become so popular. Faust, which rivals it in popularity, rivals it also in prodigality. Almost every typical aspect of life is touched upon; almost every subject of interest finds an expression in almost every variety of rhythm. It gains a large audience because it appeals to a large audience : Die Masse könnt ihr nur durch Masse zwingen, Or, as Blackie renders it: The mass can be compelled by mass alone, Bring much, and every one is sure to find Critics usually devote their whole attentlon to an ex |