In truth, the pencil of this imaginative lady varnishes every object with such glowing colours, that we hardly recognize what she has described, when it is brought before us in its own sober and natural hues. Her account of this tragedy, in the English translation of her work on Germany, to which we refer, in preference, as likely to be more in circulation than the ori ginal, appears so incorrect and defective, that we are almost tempted to suppose she had never read Egmont; or, having read it, described it so long afterwards, that she had forgotten it. For example, she makes Count Egmont deliver himself into the power of Alva, from a childish attachment to Alva's son, Ferdinand. Goethe, however, describes him as conscious of having served Philip II. faithfully, and as meriting his gratitude and protection by brilliant victories. At Madrid he had been flattered and cajoled by the treacherous monarch, as we learn both from history and the scene between Egmont and the Prince of Orange; and he confides in Alva from believing the reiterated assurances of the King. Egmont remains at Brussels, when the Prince of Orange leaves it, from a vain presumption that he enjoys the protecting favour of Philip. Mad. de Stael calls this excessive and foolish confidence, "heroical self-devotion." The poet sketches Egmont as generous, unsuspecting, and noble, but vain and imprudent. The lady describes him as falling in love with a man's smooth face, and sacrificing his life from a boyish attachment to Alva's son; which degrades him to a soft-hearted driveller. There is not a word said in the tragedy of his riding to council, accompanied by Ferdinand, on a horse he had taken in one of his battles. Such an incident would have been very suitable for an Arab, but the war-horses of the time of Egmont were probably crop-eared and shorttailed. Though fiery chargers are at all times captivating objects for young minds, we may still be surprised at the charm they had for the baroness. In another place, she describes Ferdinand as determined to save Egmont at all hazards. In the tragedy, Egmont requests him to do so, and is assured that there is no possible means. The poet represents Egmont as in love with life; the lady describes him as

guilty of the heroical inconsistency of refusing to escape when the son of his worst enemy offers to save him. In truth, she appears, in general, to have described what she imagined fully as much as what she saw or read. To make her work on Germany of much value, it needs correction; but a French lady of lively poetical powers is privileged to err; and fine words are, at all times, with the mass of readers, of greater value than just remarks. She says, Goetz of Berlichingen, another work of Goethe's, was written in prose, because he was careless and sure of leading the taste of his audience. She calls it also the

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mere sketch of a picture, but hardly enough finished for a sketch." But the fact is, that Goethe, as he informs us himself, recomposed Goetz, his first successful piece, twice; and that he would not have published it thus amended, had not his friend Merk laughed him out of his eternal chace after improvement. Prose seems to have been purposely chosen, as most suitable to the sentiments; and the piece was laboured with all the skill of which the poet was then master. These are but a few specimens of the errors into which a too lively imagi nation led the amiable baroness. And we are afraid nothing but a want of acquaintance in our country at the time she wrote, with the subjects she treated, occasioned her highly embellished pictures to be here so much admired. But it is not our intention to criticise Mad. de Stael, and, therefore, we turn to the tragedy of Egmont. The original is in prose, and, of course, our translations will be prose.

The tragedy of Egmont is rather a series of events, than a well concocted fable. There is no principal occurrence or passion on which the whole hinges, and which all the subordinate parts tend to promote. The arrest and leading off Egmont to execution are not of themselves materials enough for a tragedy. One of the principal persons, whose character is exemplified by his acts and the descriptions of others, Philip II. of Spain, does not make his appearance in the play; the scene of which is laid in the Netherlands. The part of history which describes the execution of Egmont must be known to our readers. Phi

* Aus meinem Leben, Vol. III. p. 307.

lip had resolved to overturn the liberties of the Netherlands, and root out heresy. Egmont had, on several occasions, served him faithfully, but had exposed himself to vengeance by taking part with his country against the King. The Duke of Alva was sent to Brussels; Egmont was arrested at council, and executed contrary to law. The overwhelming power of Philip was too regular in its march to be the subject of much dramatic interest. Armies were its instruinents, and they were opposed by armed nations which could not be introduced on the stage. His wars were mechanically monotonous, and he approved no other virtues but obedience. Alva, Margaret of Parma, the Prince of Orange, are conspicuous historical personages, who appear in the piece, and heighten its interest without, except the first, aiding the denouement. They are connected, however, with Egmont, and serve to display his character, and to narrate, in an agreeable way, those historical events which preceded and occasioned his death. One great source of interest is the dramatic and masterly manner in which these historical characters are sketched.

The paucity of these materials, apparently, induced the poet to dovetail on a love story. Egmont carries on an intrigue with a poor maiden, and she is distractedly attached to him; and when his fate is settled she takes poison. Clara is, perhaps, the most interesting person of the whole drama. She is all love; she takes no thought but for Egmont. His passion is the most trifling of a thousand emotions, which alternately agitate his breast; but love fills her whole soul, and is, indeed, her very being. She is of humble birth, and neglects an honourable suitor for the stolen carresses of Egmont; but she is so soft, so gentle, so ennobled by her affection, that we can scarcely blame her attachment, or think her lover worthy of her. She has dreamt of the hero of her country, whose name was the theme of every body's praise, and the chorus of every song. She has seen and known Egmont as the idol of the whole land, and scarcely discovers any thing wrong in a passion which seems to her little more than the echo of the general adoration. Yet soft and lovely as she is, and delightful as most of the scenes are in which

she appears, we cannot, on the whole, commend the poet for eking out his subject with this episode. It is consistent, we think, with the character of the Germans, to delight in what is soft and amiable, and they probably applaud the part of Clara for its own loveliness; but our, perhaps heavier, intellect, cannot be satisfied even with loveliness when it is misplaced. We do not know any right a dramatic author has to degrade historical characters. Egmont was the father of a large family; and the great pains his wife, a princess of Bavaria, took to avert his fate, warrants us to suppose that they lived happily together. History describes the anxiety he had to save his property from confiscation, as one of the chief motives for remaining in Brussels when the Prince of Orange advised him to retire. "He was, in truth, made dependent on Philip by the necessity to maintain a large family agreeably to his rank, and he remained in Brussels that he might not subject his wife and children to want. What a noble motive for his confidence in Philip! And this the poet cannot present to his readers because he has endowed him with a mistress." ." Goethe has committed a double fault-he has degraded the Egmont of history, and he has lessened the interest of his piece. The distress and the affection of an honourable wife and a family are surely better subjects for the tragic poet than an every-day love tale. When the whole unknown world of imagination is open to authors, they have no business to injure or pervert the fair fame of any real character. There is enough of wickedness without their gratuitously ascribing it to individuals. Alexander, it has been said, would not have been a conqueror but for the poems of Homer: and much corruption of morals is caused by the seducing pictures, too often met with in works of imagination, of happy, cheerful, and beloved licentiousness. Here a sort of depravity is set before us, without an adequate motive; and, as far as lay in the power of the poet, he has endeavoured to delight us with an attachment in itself incorrect. Clara, lovely as she is, does the piece so much injury, that it is quite unfit for the British stage. The

Schiller. Ueber Egmont.

scenes where she is concerned deviate in some instances so far from proprie ty, that they would not be tolerated in our country. However true it may be as to general character, we should not suffer a man like Egmont to be represented stealing to the house of a poor maiden; and there, by the aid of a mother not much better than Meg Murdochson, carrying on his intrigue till he takes Clara in hisarms, and the curtain falls to conceal them from the audience. Few of the licentious comedies of Charles the Second's reign were worse than this. We should scout from the boards a man like Egmont, recommending, as he does in the last scene, Clara to the protection of Alva's son, Ferdinand, as a jewel worthy of his love. Do not despise her because she has been mine. Thou art a noble man, a woman who finds such a one is provided for." This is only a specimen of that false morality for which German authors are somewhat notorious, and which will assuredly prevent their productions from being long and extensively admired. Goethe shews, in his Clavigo and his Stella, even more than in Egmont, that he was deeply infected with this taint. Nothing surprises us more, however, than that Mad. de Stael should have selected for approbation, chiefly those scenes in which Clara appears. We cannot imagine she was herself so indelicate, as not to see the impropriety of some of them, and we cannot account for her approbation, otherwise than by supposing she was not acquainted with the whole of what she thus in part commended.

The characters are all drawn with consummate art and fidelity, and preserved throughout the piece with great consistency. Egmont is not a very elevated character in history, and Goethe has not exalted him in the tragedy. He is a successful warrior, and an ambitious nobleman, enjoying one of the highest offices of the state, and beloved by the people. He is good natured, cheerful, and openhearted, vain and presumptuous, confident in himself, and heedlessly confiding in all about him. He is a hero, a patriot, and a lover, without permitting either of these characters to prevent his enjoyment of the common things of life. He gathers every flower that grows in his path, and

does not allow the misery of his country to diminish his pleasure. The poet seems to have endowed him with volatility and good nature, to set the human inconsistencies of his character in a stronger point of view, and to make him less dignified, and more on a level with the common standard of humanity. In fact, he has rather heaped frailties on him,-has, in some instances, hardly left him the dignity of a common man, and has quite taken from him the elevation of a hero.

Goethe is a professed admirer of Shakespeare's manner of mixing the burlesque with the sublime, and the comic with the terrible. The first scene of Egmont is of a comic cast, and consists in a conversation among the poorer classes of people. Some citizens of Brussels, and some soldiers who have served under Egmont, have met together at a cross-bow shootingmatch. They drink healths, and the health of Egmont is drunk first, and with most applause. The great use of this scene to the general effect is to describe the character of Egmont according to the opinions of others, and to narrate those events which, though necessary to the story, are not represented. He is praised as the best marksman, and as the most generous of masters; celebrated as the conqueror at Saint Quentin, and the hero of Gravelingen; as the first in war and in peace; the idol of his soldiers, and the friend of the citizens. The ease, and appropriate language, and sentiments of this scene, are worthy of all praise. There are few living authors, we know but one besides Goethe, who could give with such effect a probable conversation among the lower classes in the sixteenth century.

The second scene, betwixt Margaret of Parma and her secretary, serves, like the first, to explain the events which lead to the denouement, and to set the character of Egmont in a still more exalted point of view. The first scene shewed how much the poorer citizens love him; in the sccond, he is described as uniting the nobles at his feasts as a candidate for the viceroyalty, and as making the people drunk toasting his health, and as intoxicating their minds with his wit and eloquence. He is volatile and incautious, but conscientious and

mockery self chosen, reminded with jesting humiliation King Philip of his duties. Are guilty-what more? Is a Christmas play high treason? Do the poor coloured rags displease, which youthful spirit, and a heated fancy hang about the nakedness of life? If we are always sad, what is life worth? If each day awakes us not to new joys, if no pleasure remains for evening, is it worth the trouble to dress and to undress? Does the sun shine to-day, that I may reflect on yesterday? and guess and counsel for the unknown morrow? Such fancies are for scholars and for courtiers. They may plan, and creep with devious pace, and slide where they can reach. If you can make any use of all this, so that your letter does not grow to be a book, do it. Every thing is of too much importance to the old

man, like a dear friend who long has held our hand, and presses it yet warmer when

he leaves it.

"Sec. Pardon me. The foot traveller in the slippery mountain path, sees with terror a man hurrying by the precipice.

"Eg. No more, friend. The sun-like steeds of time, fly with the chariot of our fate, as if driven by unseen spirits, and for us there is nothing but to hold fast the reins, composed and courageous, and sometimes wend it, right or left, from dangers. Who knows where he is going, or who remembers whence he came ?

"Sec. My lord, my lord!

"Eg. I stand high, and can and must rise yet higher. I have hope, spirit, and power. I have not yet reached the full point of my growth, and, once attained, I will remain firin, not anxious. If I must fall, a thunderbolt, a tempest, or my own false steps, shall plunge me in the abyss with many thousands. Never did I hesitate to tempt a bloody fate with my war companions for a little prize, and shall I now haggle, when the whole value of a free life is at stake?

"Sec. Oh, my lord! you do not know what words you speak. God preserve you! "Eg. Take your papers away-the Prince of Orange is coming-prepare the most necessary things, that the messengers may depart before the gates are closedthere is time for the others-let the letter to the Count remain till to-morrow. Do not forget to visit Elvira; salute her from me. Inquire about the Vice-Queen; she is said not to be well, though she concealed it." [Exit Secretary.

The Prince of Orange then comes, and his cool cautious penetration, his distrust of Philip, is finely contrasted with the generous ill-timed confidence and want of foresight in Egmont. In this scene Orange gives Egmont that caution which the historian has described quite as poetically as the poet;

but in vain-Egmont refuses to follow the advice of his friend, and rushes into ruin. The scene is in the tragedy rather too long and tedious, though full of beauties. It concludes by Egmont's being affected by the earnestness and the tears of Orange; but he says, " there is yet a friendly means to smooth the wrinkles of reflection."

We meet him again in the second scene of the third act, and find that these friendly means are the smiles and the caresses of Clara. This scene is playful, tender, and affecting, full of love and satisfaction, leaving nothing to regret but the improper at

tachment. We feel little inclined to quote any of the scenes between Clara and Egmont; not only because they are often indelicate, but also because Mad. de Stael has quoted them chiefly. We refer to this one, however, in order to notice the striking coincidence between it and the scene in the seventh chapter of Kenilworth, in which Leicester is first introduced to the notice of the reader. Leicester, like Egmont, is muffled up in a cloak, and they are both dressed with all the trappings of their dignity, to give pleasure to their fair ones. Both throw off their mantles, after some playful attacks; both are decorated with the order of the Golden Fleece, and both describe their ornaments for the satisfaction of their admiring mistresses. Clara kneels and Amy sits on a stool at the feet of her lover, and both gaze with delight on the splendid apparel of him whom they had only before seen in russet brown or in disguise. In this part of Kenilworth the name of Egmont is even mentioned; the coincidence is striking; and, as the whole works of the author of Kenilworth display an intimate acquaintance with the literature of Germany, as well as the literature of every other country, we can hardly doubt that this scene of Egmont was present to his mind, and that it served him for a model. We have even heard it remarked, that the scene in Kenilworth appeared misplaced, and as if it did not belong to the rest. The author is obliged, in truth, to justify the conduct of the Countess of Leicester, by reminding the reader of her youth and her rustic education. Nothing is, however, more natural than the wish of the simple Clara, in Goethe's tra