"The high altar and its appendages are enclosed by a massive railing, of great extent, of cast metal, said to have been founded in China, from models sent from Mexico. The figures which ornament it are very numerous, but of poor execution and design. The metal, resembling brass, is considered to be of such value, on account of the gold it contains, that a silversmith of Mexico is said to have made an offer to the bishop to construct a new rail of solid silver, of the same weight, in exchange for it. "Divine service is celebrated here with great magnificence. Mass is regularly said every half hour from daylight till one o'clock, exclusive of the high mass, and other occasional masses. In no place are religious ceremonies observed with greater pomp or splendour. The procession which I saw from this cathedral far exceeded, in order and regularity, in the grandeur of the vestments, in the costliness and value of the sacred ornaments, and in gold and silver, any thing I ever witnessed. The processions of Rome, or any other city of Europe, suffer much in the comparison." "The appearance of the shops in Mexico affords no indication of the wealth of the city. Nothing is exposed in the windows; all are open, in the same manner as in London till the sixteenth century: few have signs or even names in front; and most trades are carried on in the shops in which the articles are sold. Silversmiths' work is done here in the same tedious manner it used to be in England. All the ornaments are finished by hand; there are some good chasers, but in general the production is clumsy and very heavy. "I inquired about precious stones and pearls, but there were few good, and those much dearer than in Europe. Rubies appeared to me the only jewels worth importing from Mexico. The public attention in this country having been recently occupied with the project of an Equitable Loan Company, it may not be uninteresting to extract an account of a similar institution in Mexico. It has "The manufactory of gold and silver lace, trimmings, long existed there under the protection of the govern-epaulets, &c. is carried on in the greatest perfection, and the articles sold at a much lower rate than with us. It is usual with our naval officers, on their arrival at Vera Cruz, to lay in a stock of such requisites. ment : "It occupies an extensive building opposite the Franciscan monastery. I procured an introduction to the director, a highly esteemed ecclesiastic, who politely attended me, and explained the regulations. I was shown property of all kinds, deposited," as pledges, for money advanced. A room of great extent and strength was filled with various articles of value. Whole services of plate were piled up one upon another. Massive silver vessels, dishes, crucifixes, statues of saints, pictures with silver frames, articles of female decoration, diamonds, pearls, and some very fine rubies and emeralds, by their presence impress upon the beholder, at once, the past opulence and present reduced condition of the country. Property sent here remains for a certain term on the payment of a small interest, when, if not redeemed, it is offered for sale by private contract, with the lowest price affixed to each article; if, in a given period, it remains unsold, it is then put up in a monthly sale by auction, sold to the best bidder, and the overplus of what has been advanced, after deducting interest and expenses, paid over to the original proprietor. The tailors here make great profit, as clothes are 300 per cent. dearer than in England, and are seldom well made. Cloth coats are only beginning to be generally used, but will very soon supersede the printed calico jacket, till lately universally worn. The workmen follow their employment seated on stools, and not with their feet under them as in Europe. "The first sight of a milliner's shop must always raise a smile on the face of a newly arrived foreigner. Twenty or thirty brawny fellows, of all complexions, with mustachios, are exposed to the street, employed in decorating the trimming caps and tour a number of poor girls are on dresses, and sewing muslin gowns, in making flowers, and and other articles of female attire; whilst perhaps at their knees on the floor, engaged in the laborious occupation of grinding chocolate, which is here always performed by hand. The druggist's and apothecary's trades must also be excellent ones; their prices are exorbitant. I paid in Mexico a dollar per lb. for the article used in making the composition for preparing my birds, which in Europe is sold for four-¡ ence, and yet the ingredients are the produce of the country. Hops sell here for two shillings and sixpence per ounce, and other drugs in proportion. "The establishment is open every afternoon. The crowd that filled the court attested the humble fortunes of the bulk of the people. We remarked that the jewellery deposits were less in proportion than any other species of property; and the conductor accounted for it by observing, "Cabinet work is very inferior and expensive in Mexico: that those Spaniards who had, or were about to return to they have few of the tools employed in Europe, and mahothe mother-country, converted their dollars into more portable articles, that they might convey them about their gany, or a good substitute, is scarcely known. Most of the chairs in the best houses are made in the United States. persons with greater security. This, too, accounts for my It will be learnt with surprise, that in this country the saw having sold the old doubloons which I had brought with (except a small hand-frame,) is still unknown: every me to the capital for twenty-two dollars, though intrinsi-plank, and the timber used in the erection of all the Spacally worth only sixteen-they afterwards fell to eighteen.nish American cities, is hewn by Indians with light axes The discerning reader will at once perceive the difference between this establishment and the pawnbrokers' shops of England: with us the distressed individual is but too often at the mercy of an interested person; but the public functionary of the Mexican Institution has no interest of his own to serve, and perhaps a still greater public advantage accrues from the American plan, by preventing the facility with which stolen property is disposed of with us." One of the curiosities of Mexico, is the Academy of Fine Arts, which has neither student, director, nor from the solid trees, which make each but one board. Persons connected with Mexico, or wishing to engage in commercial relations with that place, would do well to consult this and the following chapter, con taining much valuable information. We like Mr. adopted by our critic, and occasionally he hits upon Bullock's facts better than his reasonings. The chap-an ingenious interpretation, or sets some doubtful point ters on agriculture are scarcely less important, but we must pass it over, as well as that which contains a description of ancient Mexico. Mr. Bullock paid great attention to the antiquities, many of which he brought home with him, and of others he procured casts. These are to be seen at the Museum, in Piccadilly, and are well deserving the attention of the curious and learned. Mr. B.'s residence in Mexico, was diversified by frequent excursions to the mines and antiquities in the neighbourhood of the city, and his account of them, though drawn up in a slovenly minner, is not devoid of interest. His remarks upon the state of the mines, and their vast importance, strikes us as being perfectly correct, and we coincide with his opinion as to the propriety of our Government recognizing the independence of Mexico. He does not venture upon any political speculations. But his notions, whenever they are expressed, seem to be manly and liberal. The faults of Mr. Bullock's volume are chiefly such as arise out of habit remote from literature, and are therefore to be excused. The book has many valuable points, and will serve as a pioneer to other and more highly gifted travellers. The Life of Shakspeare; Enquiries into the Originality of his Dramatic Plots and Characters; and Essays on the Ancient Theatres, and Theatrical Usages. By AUGUSTINE SKOTTOWE. London: Longman and Co. 1824. 2 vols. 8vo. in a new and striking light. The general character of his dissertations, however, is heaviness In the midst of an essay on some character or usage of the play, he starts off into some enquiry depending on the habits, customs, or belief of Shakspeare's age, which gives it an agreeable and instructive variety. Some of these digressions are very well done. It is manifest that the author is well versed in the literature of that age, though he has judiciously foreborne to overload his pages with quotations. We cannot felicitate Mr. S. on having always succeeded either in his historical illustrations or his analytical surveys. Several of the essays are extremely imperfect, and his views common place. That on the Merry Wives of Windsor is neither new in fact, nor valuable in criticism. Both are of a school-boy cast. On the other hand King Lear is done in a more masterly way. From a work of criticisin it is not easy to make extracts into a critical notice, but we are bound in virtue of our office to give the reader a taste of Mr. Skottowe's quality. This is from the historical notice of the sources whence Shakspeare derived his Hamlet : "The French novelist, Belleforest, extracted from Saxo Grammaticus' History of Denmark the history of Amleth, and inserted it in the collection of novels published by him in the latter half of the sixteenth century; whence it was transfused into English, under the title of The Hystorie of Hamblett,' a small quarto volume printed in blackletter. "The history of Hamlet also formed the subject of a play, which was acted previous to 1589; and arguing from the general course of Shakspeare's mind, that play influenced THESE volumes are in the true German style of him during the composition of his own Hamlet. But uncriticism. They analyse and decompose all the cha-fortunately the old play is lost, and the only remaining subject for illustration is the black-letter quarto. racters of Shakspeare, until we have nothing left but a heap of incongruous and shapeless atoms. This may be ingenious, but it certainly is very perplexing. The old way of criticising is far more intelligible, though possibly not so searching and subtle. We can, however, relinquish something of the profound, in order to obtain a little of the clear. Mr. Skottowe is not so mystical and obscure as many of the first-rate high Dutch critics-but still he has evidently a great tendency to be so. There is a fair share of readable. matter in his book, and some curious illustrations of Shakspeare's plots, and the usages of his times, gleaned out of absolute or slightly known treatises. The object of Mr. Skottowe is to illustrate Shakspeare. For this purpose he has sought for the sources of his playshe then compares the traditional story with the dramatic superstructure-thus estimating the originality and ingenuity of the plot, so far as his materials are concerned. He then examines the contrivance, and arrangement of the incidents-their dependence and developement-the characters, their originality, probability, and individual features, and sums up each essay by a general view of the particular play. Nothing can be more elaborately methodical than the manner We learn from that authority, that the happiness of Horvendille, king of Denmark, excited the envy of his brother Fengon; who was, moreover inflamed by love for fratricide which placed him on the throne, and facilitated Geruth the queen. The villain paused not to commit a his union with the object of his guilty passion. "Hamblet, the son of Horvendille and Geruth, was quick in his perception of the danger to be apprehended from the murderer of his father, and sought safety in assuming the appearance of mental imbecility. The execution, however, of his project was imperfect: suspicion was excited; and they counselled to try and know, if possible, how to discover the intent and meaning of the invention to entrap him, than to set some fair and beautiful young prince; and they could find no better nor more fit woman in a secret place, that with flattering speeches, and all the craftiest means she could, should purposely seek to allure his mind. To this end certain courtiers were appointed to lead Hamblet to a solitary place within the woods, where they brought the woman. And surely the poor prince at this assault had been in great danger, if a gentleman that in Horvendille's time had been nourished with him, had not shewn himself more affectioned to the bringing up he had received with Hamblet, than desirous to please the tyrant. This gentleman bore the courtiers company, making full account that the least show of perfect sense and wisdom that Hamblet should make, would be sufficient to cause him to lose his life; and therefore by certain signs he gave Hamblet intelligence into what danger he was likely to fall, if by any means he seemed to obey, or once like the wanton toys and vicious provocations of the gentlewoman sent thither by his uncle; which much abashed the prince, as then wholly being in affection to the lady.' The result was that the prince deceived the courtiers, who assured themselves that without doubt he was distraught of his senses.' "The failure of this plot was succeeded by a new experiment. It was thought that an unrestrained expression of his natural feelings might be anticipated from Hamlet in an interview with his mother, and a proper knowledge of his real character and views could be obtained by one concealed under the arras for the purpose of hearing the conversation. But the wariness of Hamlet was not inferior to the craft of his enemies. Entering the chamber with his customary air of folly, he began to crow like a cock, beating his arms against the hangings in imitation of that bird's action with his wings. Feeling something stir behind the arras, he cried A rat! a rat!' and drawing his sword thrust it through the concealed spy, whose body he cut in pieces and cast into a vault. Returning to the chamber, Hamlet replied, in an authoritative tone, to the lamenta-nal passions, whilst to his reliance on the witches' word tions of the queen who bewailed her son's unhappy loss of intellect, justly upbraiding her shameless licentiousness, and characterising in the worst of colours a woman who could wantonly embrace the brother and murderer of her husband. men have been so, for he is a stranger to the qualities that make ambition vice. The crown, perhaps, had not been absent from his hopes, and his near relation to the throne justified their indulgence. What he would highly, that would he holily;' and though not absolutely free from the desire of wrongly winning,' he disdained to play false' for an unlawful acquisition. On one point only is his inintegrity vulnerable, and there the divinity of hell' assails him. Tremulously alive to superstition, he sinks before the assaults of supernatural agents, who inflame his ambition to views which he indulges to the destruction of his innocence. But, though shaken to their base, neither virtue nor reason are completely overthrown in Macbeth's mind; he is never blind to the turpitude of his deeds, nor deaf to the reproaches of his conscience. His march to wickedness is reluctant, irregular, and slow, and his bosom is the scene of a perpetual opposition of his natural reason and virtue, against ambition enflamed by superstition into crime. The thought of murder, as the nearest way' to the greatness promised him, is the suggestion of his crimimust be referred his resolution patiently to await the developements of time: If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me then without my stir.' Unhappily, however, Macbeth is not suffered to repose on his own virtuous decisions, for evil meets with a powerful coadjutor in his all-daring, and insatiably ambitious wife. His purity is already sullied by the thought of murder; the admission of its possibility, and his near and serious contemplation of it, are the next steps in the scale of guilt; and nothing is necessary to reconcile Macbeth to hazard the joys of a future world for splendour and pre-eminence in this, but an assurance that the assassination would seat him in duction of any other consequence. But such security, he was aware, could scarcely, under any possibility, be the result of the deed he meditated. He who ascends a throne by blood, does but instruct others against himself: the poisoned chalice is reserved, by even-handed justice, for the lips of the preparer, and the life of the usurper is necessarily an existence of terror and suspicion. From a prospect so melancholy, the susceptible Macbeth naturally turns to reflection on the enormity of the crime he contemplated; the virtues of his intended victim rise in judgment against the brutality of his own thoughts, and he resolves to proceed no further in the business.' As particularly illustrative of Macbeth's character, and of Shakspeare's skill in the use of his materials, the celebrated soliloquy has been dwelt on at unusual length. When it is read in Holinshed, that the prick of conscience (as it chanceth ever in tyrants, and such as attain to any estate by unrighteous means) caused him ever to fear, lest he should be served of the same cup as he had ministered to his predecessors,' no anticipation is raised of so beautifully in these cases, "Fengon now lived in daily apprehension of meeting the same fate that had overtaken the courtier spy; and resolving to get rid of Hamlet at once, despatched him with letters to the king of England, containing secret solicitations to put the prince immediately to death. 'But the subtle Danish prince (being at sea), whilst his companion slept, having read the letters, and knowing his uncle's great treason, with the wicked and villainous minds of the two cour-peaceful security upon Duncan's throne, without the protiers that led him to the slaughter, razed out the letters that concerned his death, and instead thereof graved others, with commission to the king of England to hang his two companions; and not content to turn the death they had devised against him upon their own necks, wrote further, that king Fengon willed him to give his daughter to Hamblet in marriage.' Every thing fell out as Hamlet desired; his attendants were executed, and himself was betrothed to the English princess. After a twelvemonths' residence in the British court, he returned to Denmark, and revenged himself on his enemies; first intoxicating his uncle's courtiers, and then setting fire to the banquet-hall where their senses were absorbed in drunken sleep. He next rushed into the apartment of Fengon, and gave him such a violent blowe upon the chine of his neck, that he cut his head clean from the shoulders.' Hamlet now discarded the cloak of folly in which he had hitherto disguised his intellect, and, convening an assembly of the nobility, explained and justified his conduct. Pity for his misfortunes, and indignation at the cruelty of his oppressor, were the sentiments of every bosom; and the title and dig-poetic a paraphrase as nity of the king were conferred on Hamlet by the unanimous voice of the assembly." Another specimen from the notice of Macbeth. It is necessarily a mere fragment, and therefore unjust to the author, but it may aid the reader in forming some sort of opinion as to his manner : "Shakspeare's adopting of the gentle disposition of Donwald, instead of the cruel nature of the historic Macbeth, is a distinctive feature never lost sight of. The uncorrupted nature of the hero of the scene exhibits an assemblage of the noblest qualities. Heroically brave, his valour is conspicuous in every act becoming the dignity of man his brandish'd steel'smokes with bloody execution on his country's foes, but the milk of human kindness' circles with generous profusion in his breast. He is, indeed, ambitious, but ambitious only as the best of We still have judgment here; that we but teach In Holinshed the passage stands as the motive of a tyrant to tyranny; but Shakspeare has converted it into the dispassionate language of reason, weighing the consequences of a contemplated, but, as yet unresolved enterprise, and Macbeth's conclusion is accordant with his just and salutary reflection." The lover of Shakspeare, whether he be a severe enquirer, or a mere general reader, will find Mr. Skottowe's book of some use, though it certainly is not of any high excellence. There are few literary men who could have written just as good a one, and there are many who would have written one a great deal better. Hazlitt's "Characters of Shakspeare are infinitely above it in ingenuity, originality, and acuteness The essays of Mrs. Montague, of Dr. Johnson and Richardson are many, many degrees above it-and to the discovery of Schlegel it bears no sort of resemblance. But then Mr. Skottowe has mixed up his facts and his criticisms so well, that he has made two very pleasant, if not very ingenious volumes. Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, a Novel, from the German of Goethe. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 3 vols, Svo. 1844. with great originality of thought, or puts old sentiments into new and forcible language :— "How immensely, my dear friend, do you err in believing that a work, the first presentation of which is to fill the whole soul, can be produced in broken hours scraped together from other extraneous employment. No, the poet must live wholly for himself, wholly in the objects that delight him. Heaven has furnished him internally with precious gifts; he carries in his bosom a treasure that is ever of itself increasing; he must also live with this treasure, undisturbed from without, in that still blessedness which the rich seek in vain to purchase with their accumulated stores. Look at men, how they struggle after happiness and satisfaction! Their wishes, their toil, their gold are ever hunting restlessly; and after what? After that which the poet has received from nature; the right enjoyment of the world; the feeling of himself in others; the harmonious conjunction of many things that will seldom exist together. 26 What is it that keeps men in continual discontent and agitation? It is, that they cannot make realities correspond with their conceptions, that enjoyment steals away from among their hands, that the wished for comes too late, and nothing reached and acquired produces on the them to anticipate. Now, fate has exalted the poet above all this, as if he were a god. He views the conflicting tumult of the passions; sees families and kingdoms raging in aimless commotion; sees those inexplicable enigmas of misunderstanding, which frequently a single monosyllable baleful. He has a fellow-feeling of the mournful and the would suffice to explain, occasioning convulsions unutterably joyful in the fate of all human beings. When the man of the world is devoting his days to wasting melancholy, for going out to meet his happy destiny, the lightly-moved and some deep disappointment; or in the ebullience of joy is all-conceiving spirit of the poet, steps forth, like the sun from night to day, and with soft transitions tunes his harp to joy or woe. From his heart, its native soil, springs up the lovely flower of wisdom; and if others, while waking dream, and are pained with fantastic delusions from their every sense, he passes the dream of life like one awake, and the strangest of incidents is to him a part both of the past and of the future. And thus the poet is at once a teacher, a prophet, a friend of gods and men. How! thou wouldst have him to descend from his height to some paltry occupation? He who is fashioned like the bird to hover round the world, to nestle on the lofty summits, to feed on buds and fruits, exchanging gaily one bough for like a dog to train himself to the harness and draught; or another, he ought also to work at the plough like an ox; perhaps, tied up in a chain, to guard a farm-yard by his barking?' To scholars Goethe has long been known as the first name in German literature, and very nearly the first name in the literature of modern Europe. Unlearned persons have sometimes doubted his claims to such high eminence, and have referred the decision of their doubts to such of his works as may have been trans-heart the effect, which their longing for it at a distance led lated from their original language. Nor have these doubts been altogether unwarranted. The best of Goethe's works are of a very untranslateable kind, and their higher merit often depends upon their relation to and influence upon the literature and mind of Germany. Such is the case with Faust, Werther, and above all with the novel before us. A common reader will be surprized that any corner of a great man's fame should rest upon such a foundation. But the fact is, that Wilhelm Meister is the production of a powerful mind, and contains vast stores of original thought, and has exercised an immense influence over the literature of Germany. The translator says of it: "written in its author's forty-fifth year, embracing hints or disquisitions on almost every leading point in life and literature, it affords us a more distinct view of his matured genius, his manner of thought, and favorite subjects, than any of his other works. Nor is it Goethe alone whom it pourtrays: the prevailing taste of Germany is likewise indicated by it. Since the year 1795, when it first appeared at Berlin, numerous editions of Meister have been printed critics of all ranks, || and some of them dissenting widely from its doctrines have loaded it with encomiums: its songs and poems are familiar to every German ear; the people read it, and speak of it, with an admiration approaching in many cases to enthusiasm." Wilhelm Meister is a merchant's son, who is in love with Mariana, and with theatres. The former he seduces, the latter seduces him. Nearly a hundred pages are filled with talk about Meister's fondness for puppet shews, with hardly a single passage brightened by any gleam of common sense. But this is the way with the Germans, and Goethe is not always exempt from the faults of meaner intellects. His mistress is false, and he turns from plays to poetry, and from poetry to business. On all these subjects Goethe writes Poets have lived so,' exclaimed Wilhelm, in should they ever live. Sufficiently provided for within, times when true nobleness was better reverenced; and so they had need of little from without; the gift of communicating lofty emotions and glorious images to men, in melodies and words that charmed the ear, and fixed themselves inseparably on whatever objects they referred to, of old enraptured the world, and served the gifted as a rich inheritance. At the courts of kings, at the tables of the great, beneath the windows of the fair, the sound of them was heard, while the ear and the soul were shut for all beside; and men felt, as we do when delight comes over us, and we stop with rapture if among the dingles we are crossing the voice of the nightingale starts out touching and strong. They found a home in every habitation of the world, and the lowliness of their condition but exalted them the more. The hero listened to their songs; and the conqueror of the earth did reverence to a poet, for he felt that without poets, his own wild and vast existence would pass away like a whirlwind, and be forgotten for ever. The lover wished that he could feel his longings and his joys so variedly and so harmoniously as the poet's inspired lips had skill to shew them forth; and even the rich man could not of himself discern such costliness in his idol grandeurs, as when they were presented to him shining in the splendour of the poet's spirit, sensible to all worth, and exalting all. Nay, if thou wilt have it, who but the poet was it that first formed gods for us; that exalted us to them, and brought them down to us.'"' In one of his excursions from home, he meets with a little girl, Mignon. The translator in his preface, has given so eloquent and just a description of this creature that we cannot do better than quote his words : and theatrical criticism at that period. To us at present it possesses a very inferior merit. But it is about plays and players that nearly all the novel is concerned, and therefore the general reader will find it a dul book. Nor is there enough of story in it, to interest those who will be wearied with its disquisitions. More persons will throw it down in disgust than are likely to read it through, but of those who read it through some will discover its beauty and value. It contains much that is sagacious in its glances into life, and much that is new and profound in its philosophical discussions. The story, perplexed, objectless, and discursive as it is, has something like a conclusion. Meister finds that he has been abused respecting the "This mysterious child, at first neglected by the reader, infidelity of Mariana, he discovers his child, and he gradually forced on his attention, at length overpowers marries some one else. Shapeless and intricate as the him with an emotion more deep and thrilling than any poet since the days of Shakspeare has succeeded in producing. || narrative is, it possesses in some passages very consiThe daughter of enthusiasm, rapture, passion, and de-derable pathos. The pieces of poetry which stud spair, she is of the earth, but not earthly. When she these volumes, are well known to German scholars, glides before us through the light mazes of her fairy dance, and are very popular in that country. The following or twangs her cithern to the notes of her homesick verses, or whirls her tambourine and hurries round us like an will be recognized as the original of Byron's Opening antique Mænad, we could almost fancy her a spirit; so to the Bride of Abydos:pure is she, so full of fervour, so disengaged from the clay of this world. And when all the fearful particulars of her story are at length laid together, and we behold in connected order the image of her hapless existence, there is, in those dim recollections, those feelings so simple, so impassioned and unspeakable, consuming the closely-shroud-Know'st thou it? ed, woe-struck, yet etherial spirit of the poor creature, something which searches into the inmost recesses of the My dearest and kindest, with thee would I go. soul. It is not tears which her fate calls forth; but a feel-Know'st thou the house, with its turretted walls, ing far too deep for tears. The very fire of heaven seems Where the chambers are glancing, and vast are the halls? miserably quenched among the obstructions of this earth. Where the figures of marble look on me so mild, Her little heart, so noble and so helpless, perishes before As if thinking: Why thus did they use thee, poor child?' the smallest of its many beauties is unfolded; and all its Know'st thou it? loves, and thoughts, and longings, do but add another pang to death, and sink to silence utter and eternal. It is as if the gloomy porch of Dis, and his pale kingdoms, were realized and set before us, and we heard the ineffectual wail of infants reverberating from within their prisonwalls for ever. "The history of Mignon runs like a thread of gold through the tissue of the narrative, connecting with the heart much that were else addressed only to the head. Philosophy and eloquence might have done the rest; but this is poetry in the highest meaning of the word. It must be for the power of producing such creations and emotions, that Goethe is by many of his countrymen ranked at the side of Homer and Shakspeare, as one of the only three men of genius that have ever lived." Meister buys Mignon of an Italian rope dancer. She is educated under his care, and becomes a beautiful and accomplished, though strange and incomprehensible girl. Meister is mixed up with actors once more— reads Shakspeare, and admires his genius. The criticisms on Hamlet are singularly fine, and have done a great deal to spread the fame of Shakspeare in Germany. Meister at last goes on the stage as an actor, and plays Hamlet. Goethe's object in writing the work, being in a great measure to reform, or rather to create the German stage-all this part of the book must have been extremely interesting to his countrymen. Its value can be appreciated by those only, who were acquainted with the condition of German acting, Where the gold-orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom? Thither! O thither, My guide and my guardian, with thee would I go. Thither! O thither, And this song of the harper is very beautiful in the original : "What notes are those without the wall, Back from its roof rebounding.' A thrilling strain he raises; |