Yesterday and To-day. Being a sequel to 'Fifty Years' Recollections, literary and political.'

Front matter

Ufa. Ifatobg's ffafo IjuMkatiana. In 3 vols. Price, 36s. THE FIRST TEMPTATION: OR, ERITIS SICUT DEUS. AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE, Translated from the German by Mrs. WILLIAM R. WILDE. In 3 vols. Price, 31s. 6d. SNOWED UP, Bt Mrs. OCTAVTUS OWEN, Author of " Raised to the Peerage, " " Heroines of History," &c. IN THE PRESS. I. In 2 vols. 21s. IL PELLEGRTNO: OR, WANDERINGS AND WONDERLNGS, Bt CAPTAIN CLAYTON, Author of " Ubique," &0. In 1 voL Price, 7s. 6d. (Ready). LONG AGO AND NOW, Bt F. YOUNG, Esq. in. In 3 vols. Price, 31s. 6d. A COUNTRY VISIT, By the Author of " Constance Dale," '* The Cliffords of Oakley, ' "Family Troubles," &c. TV. In 2 vols. 21s. AFTER LONG YEARS. A NOVEL, Bt Mrs. MACKENZIE DANIELS, Author of " My Sister Minnie," " Marrying for Money," " Brother Paul," &.C. V. In 1 vol. Price, 10s. 6d. POETRY ANCIENT AND MODERN, By WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR.

VT. ANECDOTAL MEMOIRS OF ENGLISH PRINCES, AND NOTICES OF CERTAIN MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL HOUSES OF ENGLAND. Bt W. H. DAVENPORT ADAMS, Author of " Memorable Battles in English History," "The Sea-Kings of England," &c, &c. IN TWO VOLUMES. YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY. BT CYRUS REDDING, BEING A SEQUEL TO "FIFTY TEAKS' RECOLLECTIONS, LITERARY AND POLITICAL." IN THREE VOLUMES. " If thou vouchsafe to read this treatise it shall seem no otherwise to thee than the way to an ordinary traveller ; sometimes fair, sometimes foul, here champaign, there enclosed, barren in one place, better soil in another I"— Boston. VOL, II. ftafam: T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 1863. \The Right of Translation is Reserved], ERRATA. PAGE. LINE. 12 S for 0 Riant read Of (riant. 14 13 for Wliilhclm read Wilhelm. — 23 for zephyr rend zephyrs. 122 26 for Lnrd Cockrano read Lore' Cochrane. 186 23 for Fiscolo read Foscolo. 198 4 for les read ses. — 5 for aflVctueus read affectueux. 211 19 for Muille read Meanl. 219 6 for Feuiliant read Feuillant. 228 10 for plasir read plaisir. — 12 for purctd read purcto*. _ _ for Inatacquable read inattaquable. 229 6 for brizer read briscr. 230 8 for perdu read perdre. 296 26 for dejc read drj.i. 303 16 for does read did. 308 20 for which read while

Chapter I

Visit to Cheltenham — A Lady's opinion of ugliness in her sex — The German Tongue — Augustus William Schlegel — .Corruption of the English Tongue — German Literature — Die Schuld and Swordsong — The Schlegels and the Mittel Alter — Observations on the brothers — Lines of Augustus William Schlegel translated — Defect of aspirations after the "dark ages"— Shakespeare — The Romantic, and its derivations — The Classics and Shakespere— Derivation of Language — Tradition preserved by Moses — Gradual development of the material and social elements — German Creeds — The German Drama, and Literature — Burger's Ellenora — Remarks on the German Drama — Miilner — Klopstock's Two Muses — Saxe Weimar — Conjectures — German-French Schools — Goethe — German petty princes. I must be permitted to be desultory as well as episodical ; despite those critics who lay down the law ex-cathedra for all writers and authors, I must now make a leap across the Channel, to our own shores again.

On my return home, I went for a short time to Cheltenham, and while there, visited a friend, who had a daughter with a pleasing face, but a body sadly deformed. She was a good pedestrian, not withstanding, and I became her escort, and was VOL. II. b VISIT TO CHELTENHAM. much pleased with my companion. She observed to me, on one occasion, with great good sense, what I had supposed no woman would have been brought to say — that she was sensible of her misfortune, and had therefore less need to be guarded against the other sex, than some of her handsome acquaintance. " I escape much flattery," she continued ; " yet even I have had my lovers, and many agreeable things were said to me, as if I did not know they were idle compliments as well as untruths. It was cruel to implicate my judgment in such a manner, and I replied that what they told me was in bad taste, and wanted sincerity.

Then I got for reply, that beauty of mind was everything with them, and that they admired me upon that account — beauty was evanescent, mind immortal I knew such remarks were subterfuges. If I were a man, I should prefer a handsome woman, with any average sense and manners, to the ugly virtuous lady, twice over ; it is no use to disguise it. If I were a man, I should respect an ugly woman, with a fine mind ; I might put up with her as a companion, but I do not think I could love her, for her appearance would taunt me with some mistrustful query. I should ask myself, ' am I not insincere ? Can I love where I wish to love, and yet feel a drawing-back when I look at her ?' No, no ; if I were a man, I could never marry a properly ugly woman." SIR A. B. FAULKNER. " But the ordinary person is not her fault ?"

"I know that, Mr. R ; nor is the opinion I thus give, my fault— it is my misfortune ; but it is an opinion I cannot alter, even in my own favour." " Then give me leave to tell you, that you your self, by your conduct and opinions, on a very nice point to your sex, render you more worthy of a husband — and more recommendable for your candid discommendation. ' ' A slight acquaintance grew into a useful one. She was an excellent German scholar, and I had from her some conversations which recalled my old lessons in the language. They were but few, as I was not long in that resort of people of fortune and disarranged biliary ducts. These served, however, to remind me of my earlier attention to the trans lations introduced into England many years before. At that time, Sir A. B. Faulkner was an eminent physician there, and a very hospitable man.

His wife was one of the most fashionable of the ladies. They were exceedingly hospitable. With the lady whom I have mentioned as giving me a German lesson or two, they are now no more. Faulkner took a great interest in the education of the poor ; and, upon looking into the matter, he found that the school teachings in the parishes were exceedingly defective. I remember his indignation at the result on some of his examinations of the children. In B PARISH EDUCATION. the town he found a little emulation among the poorer classes, but none in the rural districts. One of the specimens of the replies he got, I confess, surprised me. He wrote to the bishop of the diocese upon the subject, but got no reply to his comments on the spiritual instruction around him. One of the bona-nde dialogues was as follows : " My girl, who was Jesus Christ?"

" The Devil." " Come — this is not a subject for trifling — think again — who was Jesus Christ ?" " The Gospel." " Well— that is nearer to it, but not quite right — guess again." " Satan." " You surely do not mean what you say ; do you not know that Satan is the Devil ?" " The Synagogue." These were continued much in the same strain. On examining the children in his own parish, " Exodus " was called " the Lord." " Hallowed," was " forgiving sins," or " running about." " Suc cour," was " to suck from a mother." " Pastor," "a place to live in; to go anywhere, to stay." " Perform," was " to go before." " Reverend," was "redeemed." "Guiltless," was "guilty." One spoke of " descending into heaven." These he said, were not picked cases; they were not THE GERMAN DRAMA. 5 exceptions, but rules. The catechumen seemed as ignorant of the terms as the children, none of whom had ever heard of a dictionary.

The clerk of the parish was the tutor, and patronized neither vocabu lary nor dictionary, being content to teach without such parish innovations. Who can wonder, with such teaching, that the doctrine of charms, fortune tellers, conjurers, spirit-rappers, phrenologists, and the latest specimen of German quackery in Dr. Carus, (there is always a Dr. in the Abracadabra), should infect farmers with charms to prevent the rot in sheep, and thus victimise the dunder-heads too common in the rural districts ? In the mode of teaching children, there is now a great improvement ; thanks to the government, if the grown-up children retain the benefit. During Sheridan's management of Drury Lane Theatre, the German drama had become the rage. I had not been out in the great world, still I must needs know all I could in English, of German literature.

I never had but one friend in my younger days who had an idea of my attachment to literature, and of my continued reading. His principal pleasure was to extract from the works he perused, such passages as attracted his fancy ; and, in one of his books of extracts, just after it appeared, he had copied Spencer's translation of Burger's Leonora. It had made its appearnce BURGER'S LEONORA. superbly printed, seven years before. A Mr. Stanley had attempted a similar task, afterwards, and failed. H. J. Pye tried, and made a true poet-laureate affair of it. There was another translation published anonymously, in Dublin, and entitled " Ellenore." This last closely follows the German, and is not so English or elegant as that of Mr. Spencer. Still, the Dublin translation is nearest the original, and good in that respect — perhaps the best.

Tramp ! tramp ! across the land they speed ; Splash, splash, across the lea ; "Hurrah! the dead can ride apace — Do'st fear to ride with me ? The moon is bright — and blue the night, — Do'st quake the blast to stem ? Do'st shudder, maid, to seek the dead ?" " No, no— but what of them ?" The repetition in the first four lines, in the way of query, as the spirit-horse and his rider dart along, to ride that night to their nuptial bed, struck my youthful fancy. It has a fine effect in a ghostly poem, always begging the question of a semi-belief at least in the words of the four last lines. " Graut Liebchen auch ? Der Mond scheint hell ! Hurrah ! die Todten reiten schnell ! Graut Liebchen auch vor Todten ?" — " Ach nein ! Doch lass die Todten !" I had not left my home at that time, nor learned anything of the German toDgue, being content with LITERARY MORALITY. 7 translations.

It is wonderful that the ghost-seers of the present time do not publish a ghost literature, and some of these pieces of poetry. Why not select a laureate ? They can hardly fail to affect the minds of children and superstitious people, who are at present busy in endeavouring to drag back the public attention to old delusions, through paths novel to the age, but not the less perver sions on that account. Youth as I was, I had twenty-five copies of Spencer's translations of Leonora printed, and presented ' to my friends. Of Burger's " Wild Hunter," I never saw a translation. Werther I read, in English, when too young for its sentimentality, or the comprehension of its vicious tendency ; a consideration for which Goethe had never the slightest regard ; and it is the same with most of his countrymen.

In confirmation of which it is only necessary to peruse some of their choicest works ; enlisting the charm of fancy, and refined literature, in the service of dubious morality. No one aware of Goethe's cold nature, can wonder at his course in this respect ; but, with other German writers, whose works display power and genuine affection too, it is wonderful the moral should not be more considered. The German school both of poetry and the drama, had its day here, and passed away ; nor do I think in this respect we have much GERMAN CRITICISM. to lament. At present, the acknowledged skill of German penetration occupies attention with deep researches into eastern and biblical literature. Michaelis and Gesenius have long been known in their works here, though I do not believe all their writings have been translated.

That portion of the works of Michaelis given by Herbert Marsh, and his contest with Archdeacon Travis, in vindication of one of his notes to his introduction, is in the remembrance of most scholars, and took place when I was a boy. It was in allusion to the German biblical critics that I met with it. This allusion stated that the entire works of Michaelis and Gesenius had never been translated, because the English church men set their faces against anything which tended to change the views entertained by them at present ! If true, not a very complimentary thing to the moral courage of those who uttered it; truth being for all time, and the untrue, living but for an hour. If an effect can be produced by beautiful passages, it is enough. The Germans show a disregard of moral considerations, correspondent with the desire to be notorious ; the end is obtained, it little matters by what means.

Generally the German composi tions of a high note for the theatre, turn upon the degree of applause which can be obtained by novelty of position. The surprise of an audience in what DRAMATIC DEFECTS. the German deems superior in the authorship is pro duced by what we call " sensation pieces." This phrase interpreted, is making the greatest number of an indiscriminating audience open their eyes and mouths to the widest extent of admiration. With the multitude, this is an end not to be obtained by those qualities which genius or learning alone confer. The mob is always sensual, and the way to its heart is not through the understanding. But Germany is not yet as faithful to this aspect of things, as we are. Good scenery-painting, much nameless musical composition, and a little vulgar English, sufficient to sustain the connection of the parts, and enough is then done for the tasteless English stage of the present day.

All the world knows the nature of German plots, that their works contain fine pas sages, but turn continually upon the same exceptional species of incident. A series of scenes will perhaps discover that the principal character is in love with his friend's wife, and has murdered him, to ob tain his widow. The moral bearing the same, still, there is great power in all their tragedies ; but there is little of that wonderful mastership, in generating a feeling in our souls, as by some magic means, and wholly overcoming them, which belongs to nature and Shakespeare. The prevalent defect of the German school is that b EARLY GERMAN WRITERS. it wants truth, and leaves— I speak of the majority of its dramatic works — few gentle impressions of beauty or affection by an appeal to the pathetic, thus heightening the interest by touching the inner chords of the heart.

The school is no ruler over the passions in their blandest or most touching sense, in accordance with nature. I willingly avoid any remarks upon the praiseworthy and laborious scholarship of the Germans, profound as they are in examination, patient in study, and full of well intended efforts in their search after truth, and of impartiality and freedom from those by-gone conclusions which mark too many of our writers. They are earnest, ruled by abstract truth, free from bias, without any over weaning regard for what is really good in social and political institutions, because they are not free to enjoy any. German literature in its present sense is a recent " formation," as geologists would phrase it. It was only developed towards the close of the last century, at least in a polished and cultivated sense.

Its rapid growth will account for many of the differences during its early progress. The first writers had to form themselves. They borrowed much from England, as might be expected, for it assorted better with their language than the French or the more southern tongues. Of these the poet Klopstock was one of the first who emancipated his country's verse klopstock's muses. 11 from foreign trammels, indeed the very first with whom German poetry commenced, for the previous writers were formed upon the French model, as Hagedorn, Wieland, and others. Few are strangers to that long epic, the Messiah ot Klopstock, which has passages of great beauty and sublimity, but is prolonged to tediousness. He formed himself upon the model of Milton. Campbell, the poet, told me he called upon him near Hamburgh, I think about 1802, the year before his death.

He found a venerable man, who certainly did not resemble Milton in appearance, though as far he could be he was really the Milton of Germany. Campbell described him as venerable from his years, a gracious old man. What more could be expected at seventy-nine years of age ! He was a perfect master of our poets. The " Two Muses of Klopstock " took my fancy about 1813-14, and being German mad at that time I put them into English and gave them to Perry of the " Morning Chronicle," in whose paper they appeared. I never saw another copy of them in English. At their close they are remarkable for their delicacy, the race being undecided. I will repeat them here : — THE TWO MUSES. I gee — O tell if now revealed to me The deep veil'd bosom of futurity, Or if a vision of hour— declare ! — I see majestic as Aurora fair, Germania's muse to run a race attired With ardent thirst of emulation fired, THE TWO MUSES.

And at her side, like some imperial queen, Britannia's muse of more than mortal mien — They start, and swift as lightning cleaves the sky, Toward the goal of coronation fly ! Two goals as far as the strained eye can view, Where the wide plain melts into liquid blue, Border the course ; this clothed in grateful shade O giant oaks a mark conspicuous made That branching palms in green unfading drest, AVhich oft as night steals on the empurpled west, Cast a dark umbrage on the russet ground, Formed for the long drawn course the farther bound. Within the arena from the peopled plain Inured to conquest, proud and justly vain, Steps Albion's genius, haughty as before, When with the Grecian maid she trod that shore, Or her who from the Capitol had come To bear the laurel wreath triumphant home. Now her young trembling rival she beheld, Her trembling not by fear but hope impelled, Rich glowing roses streamed upon her face, Worthy that arduous conquest in the race Which here she hoped, still to her glory true, As all abroad her hair disheveled flew.

Already panting, with tumultuous breast, Her labouring breath she scarcely half represt — Already bending forward to the goal, No thought but confidence possest her soul. The ready herald held his trump on high, The signal for defeat or victory, And joy delirious fill'd her swimming eyes, As her warm fancy grasp'd the glorious prize. Proud of her rival, of herself more proud, The lofty Britonness regardful bowed ; Then measured with a noble glance the fair — Tuisco's daughter, with the flowing hair, And thus addressed her — "By the bards I love " We grew together in the sacred grove — THE TWO MUSES. 13 " The grove of oaks, our birth and clime the same, " And once, — O 1 once we differed but in name.* " I heard that thou wert known on earth no more, "But now — if safe from dull oblivion's shore, " If now immortal— pardon what I say — " At yonder goal, on this auspicious day, " At yonder goal alone the truth I'll learn ; — "Lo ! where it stands — my ardent spirits burn, — "Mark where its crown the distant palm displays, — " Say, dost thou see how glory's vivid rays " Dart round it lambent ?

Ah I that look I know, — " That fiery look which scorns the boldest foe, " That bridled courage and that silence deep, " Like the rough storm a moment hushed to sleep — " O pause awhile, ere yet the herald sound " The note that bids us try the appointed ground : " Am I not she, who erst, with reinless pace, " With her from Greece essayed the mighty race, " Nor suffered e'en the stately maid of Rome " To bear the laurel uncontested home ?" She spoke : — the anxious moment nearer drew, The herald poised his brazen trump anew — " I love thee," answered quick, with eye of flame, Teutona, — " Britoness ! I love thy name ; " But not so dear that much-loved name to me " As the fond hope of immortality, " And yon green palms : reach them, if Heav'n so will, — " Reach them before me, yet, unconquered still, " Whene'er thou seizest the unfading prize, " So shall thy rival too before thine eyes I " O ye Immortals !

For yon distant goal " Arm every nerve, support my ardent soul, " Bid me the first that envied spot attain, " Bid me the swiftest scour the extended plain, * This refers to the origin of Poetry among the Northern Nations, which began in the woods, and was nursed (in the same places where the religious rites were performed) amid the solemnity of the oak forests, that in primeval ages overspread Europe. The oak and palm are considered here — the one the emblem of patriotic, the other of religions poetry. GOETHE'S MIGNON. " Then may thy breath, Britannia's champion fair " Immingle with my loosely streaming hair 1" Again the herald rais'd his trump — he blew, — With eagle speed the lovely sisters flew. See, t'wards the goal each dauntless rival bend, — O'er the wide course the billowy dust ascend, And near the oaks in thicker clouds arise — And gathering shades obscure the cheerful skies, 'Till wrapt in gloom impervious as the night, Their graceful forms evanished from my sight !

My next attempt was, nearly two years before Byron wrote his Bride of Abydos, the song of Mig non in Goethe's " Whilhelm Meister." Byron borrowed the opening lines. I had great advantages for studying the language in the society of a Mr. Wunderlich, who married a first cousin of mine, now resident at Studgardt. It is more than forty years since I have looked into a German book ; the language is no favourite. THE SONG OF MIGNON. Know'st thou the land where the citron trees bloom, Where the orange sheds gold mid its dark leaves' gloom, Where the zephyr soft from the blue heavens blow ? And the myrtle and laurel so tranquilly glow ; Know'st thou that land? Thither, thither, With thee, my beloved, O might I but go ! Know'st thou the mansion, with columns reared high, And its glittering saloons that ascend to the sky, And statues of marble that gaze on me so, As if saying, " poor child, we thy history know ?'' Know'st thou that mansion ?

Thither, thither, With thee, my loved guardian, O might I but go ! MULNER'S DIE SCHULDE. 15 Know'st thou the mountain, its path through the cloud winds, Where the mule wrapp'd in mist, a lonely path finds ; Where the dragon her brood rears in caverns below ; And down rough rocks in thunder the cataracts flow ? Know'st thou that mountain ? Thither— thither— Points our way ; O, my father, let us go 1* Whether this translation was made in 1812 or 1813 I cannot tell. It was published in the " Chronicle," if I recollect rightly. I know not whether Byron read German ; and as the above was the only translation I know of then, I think it possible he availed himself of it, in the lines he borrowed. * The German of Goethe runs as follows — Mignon is expressing her love of Italy, and desire to return to it : — Kennst du das Land ? wo die citronen bliihn, Im dunkeln Laub die gold-orangen gliihn, Ein sanfter wind vom blauen Himmel weht, Die myrte still und hoch der lorbeer steht !

Kennst du es wohl ? Dahin, dahin, Mocht'ich mit dir, O mein geliebter ziehn ! Kennst dn das Haus ? aus Saulen ruht sein dach, Es glanzt der Saal, es schimmert das gemach, Und marmorbilder stehn, und sehn mich an : Was hat man dir, du armes kind gethan ? Kennst du es wohl ? Dahin, Dahin, Mocht'ich mit dir, 0 mein Beschntzer, ziehn ! Kennst du den berg, und seinen Wolkensteg; Das maulthier sucht im nebel seinen weg, In Holen wohnt der drachen alte brut, Es stiirzt der fels, Und uber inn die Rnth. Kennst du es wohl ? Dahin, dahin, Geht unser weg ! 0 vater, lasst uns ziehn ! DRAMATIC DEFECTS. When I began to work hard at the German tongue, in one of those hasty fits with which youth undertakes a new thing, I went so far as to translate the language with tolerable facility, and, as has been often remarked, I found the poetry much easier to read and comprehend than the prose.

Of the product of my labours, in addition to these fruits, were some of the enthusiastic pieces of Korner and Miilner, with the Die Schulde, of Miilner. One or two other pieces I gave to Perry, for the " Morning Chronicle." In those days too, the better class of papers published literary articles, some of which drew attention from the celebrity of the writers, an additional attraction to their columns ; for the authors were well understood. I have had Mulner's Die Schulde by me ever since. I printed an extract or two from it, in the columns of a provincial paper. It affords a remarkable example of that disregard of all morality, provided effect is produced, which also marks the writings of Goethe, and the German school. The French follow the same pernicious plan in novels, but not to an equal extent.

I know no more insidious mode of corruption, particularly of the female heart, than the overflow of these works and others of a like character, together with their imitations here, under the name of " sensation novels." Dramatic works too, in which morality is abandoned for effect, and nature itself, in its INSIDIOUS LITERATURE. truthfuluess, is set at defiance to startle, tend to undermine social morality. There cannot be the smallest doubt of the result. It is only for reflect ing persons to go into society a little, in France and Germany, to hear of that effect, though in both countries it is much less injurious than it will soon be here, because familiarity has made an easiness of the practice there, and it has now no novelty of attraction, similar to that on an incipient introduction into a country where the population may be said to be off its guard.

Novelty carries success, and, in the opinion of the ignorant masses, it is that which decides. Ihe insidious character of a. publication before unguarded sense is not discerned by it. There is no better mode of introducing amusement, and at the same time cultivating virtuous sen timents, than through a good novel ; and nothing is more pernicious than a bad one, owing to its latent mode of undermining virtuous sentiments, and familiarising that which pollutes purity of soul. In Germany, the seriousness of a love attachment, and the great faithfulness which exists in such cases, even when immoral, qualifies in a certain degree the offence, rendering it less mischievous in its effects ; but in France the effect is directly the reverse. In England, it is only to watch the disgraceful mer cenary proceedings in our law courts, where matri monial infidelity and the virgin's honour are priced MORALITY OF DESPOTISMS. in money ; and to see the utter disregard of every sentiment or principle, on the part of men towards their victims ; it is only to watch these, to prove that we rank far below Frenchmen, who, if per fidious, do not set a price upon injured honour, but, in adulterous cases, punish it criminally.

It has been remarked that both nature and society cause women to be the sufferers, and this cannot be denied. Still, that it should be a popular habit to regard the breach of all honour, and the violation of all principle as merely venial, where woman alone is concerned, clearly shows the skin-deep character of morality in English society, however painful the confession. There is great squeamishness in England, in some things defensible, and a great latitude in others. This is the effect of multitudinous inconsistency. We do not, it is true, resemble the people of Vienna in their inconsistency, where Montesqueu's " spirit of the Laws" is not allowed in public libraries. In Schiller's Jeanne d'Arc Agnes Sorel must be married. And, in Don Carlos, his love for Elizabeth cannot be tolerated ! Yet the most licentious works are universally circulated — works too bad to name, but serious productions that touch upon thrones, even in romance, are forbidden.