Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
[Illustration: PICTURE OF GOETHE]
It would appear that for inquirers into Foreign Literature, for all menanxious to see and understand the European world as it lies around them,a great problem is presented in this Goethe; a singular, highlysignificant phenomenon, and now also means more or less complete forascertaining its significance. A man of wonderful, nay, unexampledreputation and intellectual influence among forty millions ofreflective, serious and cultivated men, invites us to study him; and todetermine for ourselves, whether and how far such influence has beensalutary, such reputation merited. That this call will one day beanswered, that Goethe will be seen and judged of in his real characteramong us, appears certain enough. His name, long familiar everywhere,has now awakened the attention of critics in all European countries tohis works: he is studied wherever true study exists: eagerly studiedeven in France; nay, some considerable knowledge of his nature andspiritual importance seems already to prevail there. [Footnote: Witness/Le Tasse, Drame par Duval,/ and the Criticisms on it. See also theEssays in the /Globe,/ Nos. 55, 64 (1826).]
For ourselves, meanwhile, in giving all due weight to so curious anexhibition of opinion, it is doubtless our part, at the same time, tobeware that we do not give it too much. This universal sentiment ofadmiration is wonderful, is interesting enough; but it must not lead usastray. We English stand as yet without the sphere of it; neither willwe plunge blindly in, but enter considerately, or, if we see good, keepaloof from it altogether. Fame, we may understand, is no sure test ofmerit, but only a probability of such; it is an accident, not aproperty, of a man; like light, it can give little or nothing, but atmost may show what is given; often it is but a false glare, dazzling theeyes of the vulgar, lending by casual extrinsic splendour the brightnessand manifold glance of the diamond to pebbles of no value. A man is inall cases simply the man, of the same intrinsic worth and weakness,whether his worth and weakness lie hidden in the depths of his ownconsciousness, or be betrumpeted and beshouted from end to end of thehabitable globe. These are plain truths, which no one should lose sightof; though, whether in love or in anger, for praise or for condemnation,most of us are too apt to forget them. But least of all can it becomethe critic to 'follow a multitude to do evil' even when that evil isexcess of admiration; on the contrary, it will behoove him to lift uphis voice, how feeble soever, how unheeded soever, against the commo