A. W.: the Kritische Schriften of 1828.

But henceforward we may separate the brothers for a moment and take the elder first. His Kritische Schriften, mentioned in the note above, have the advantage, which it is nearly impossible to exaggerate, of containing not merely reviews and critical writings of different periods, but also later annotations on the earlier ones.[[778]] There can be no better test of a man’s critical quality than this: and Schlegel comes out of it very well, though the result no doubt does not place him quite as high as his friend Corinne and some others would do. The two best examples are the long and early review of Voss’s Homer,[[779]] and that (later but still early) of Bürger’s Poems. There is perhaps a slightly excessive patriotism in the author’s contention that German is better suited than any other language for the purpose of translating Homer; one is almost tempted to echo Garrick to Goldsmith: “Come, come! you are perhaps the worst ... eh, eh?” in certain respects, though no doubt not in all. Yet even here there is force as well as ingenuity in the contention that the very fact of Germany possessing no large amount of great literature at the time prevented German phrase from being hackneyed in, and, as it were, ascript to, certain contexts and associations, as was the case with Italian, French, and even English, while the enormous and unquestioned xenomania with which the Germans had for generations been refreshing and stocking their speech and their culture was another advantage.On Voss. There is, moreover, too much distinct animus against Pope as a coryphæus of the English Neo-classics; but this itself marks Schlegel’s attitude, which, let it be remembered, was fresh and novel. Nor is it surprising that, as the author tells us with pride, both Goethe and Schiller, personages not always well disposed to him, warmly approved the metrical part of the essay. It is now pretty generally admitted, both that Schlegel was a very sound critic on this all-important subject, and that the importance of it was almost greater in Germany than elsewhere owing to the extreme laxity and cacophony, descending at times nearly to the level of the horse-fiddle, in which men not merely like Klopstock but like Bürger had indulged. And the whole is one of the first examples I know of a full modern review of the best kind, neither “puff” nor “slate” (though there is a good deal of severe criticism in it), neither mere compte-rendu nor mere divagation from the subject into some general discussion which happens to interest the reviewer.

On Bürger.

The Bürger article[[780]] has the additional interest of being an answer, and a crushing one, to a precedent criticism. I have said[[781]] something earlier of Schiller’s unlucky production, and need not return to it: but it may fairly be observed that this is as good an instance of obedience to literary morality as that was of offence against it. Bürger had been a friend of Schlegel’s, and he was one of the poetical protagonists of the cause for which Schlegel himself was fighting. Yet there is no unfair praise here: and, what is more, there is no abstinence from just censure. Indeed Schlegel may be thought to be even a little too hard on the unlucky Lenardo und Blandine, though this piece has nearly all the faults of “Monk” Lewis and other imitators.

If, however, these and other pieces of themselves place Schlegel in a high position as a critic, the volumes do not fail to show his shortcomings. The system of self-annotation, though possessing some advantages, is dangerous, as giving opportunity for those egotistical displays of which Schlegel has been commonly accused: but this does not matter so very much. The Urtheile, &c. The batch of Urtheile, Gedanken, &c., which closes the first volume, and which originally appeared in the Athenæum (the periodical which the two brothers had founded in 1798, the very year of the Lyrical Ballads[[782]]), do not raise our opinion of Schlegel’s talent, and they certainly do not, as do the corresponding Fragments of Novalis, give us any idea of critical genius. The one exception[[783]] is not at all like the others, and is very like Novalis himself. But even this is rather an amusing and well-aimed “fling” than a real critical plummet suddenly let down to the bottom of the well of critical Truth. The rest are quite ordinary and commonplace things, by no means unrespectable but nothing more. Now, no one is bound to isolate his critical judgments and set them up in specimen-cases for examination after this fashion. But if he does so, they should be something more than commonplace, and ordinary, and respectable.[[784]]

The Vorlesungen über Dramatische Kunst und Literatur.

There is no doubt that Schlegel’s best-known work is, as sometimes, though not always, happens, his best, and by a very long way. The Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature, which he delivered at Vienna in 1808, printed next year, and issued finally in book form three years later, undoubtedly deserve a place, not merely in any library of critical literature, but on any shelf devoted to criticism which will hold, say, a score of volumes. They have indeed faults, and grave ones. The attitude towards French Drama, and especially towards Corneille and Molière, does not sin merely by an excess of party spirit. There would be some excuse for that, especially in face of the absolutely ridiculous over-valuation of themselves by the French, who had held the critical ear of Europe for a hundred and fifty years. Moreover, as has been, I think, hinted more than once here, there are worse things than thorough-going advocacy, prosecuting as well as defending, in criticism, provided only that it observes literary manners and literary morals, that it is well informed, and that it is intelligent. Schlegel is not exactly guilty under the first count, but he is under the two last. He ought to have seen that Corneille is really a Romantic Samson in the mill of the classical Gaza. And as to Molière the case is even worse. Further, to confine ourselves to really large and important matters, the complete omission of the mediæval drama in the earlier part of the book, where we stride straight from Seneca to the Renaissance, and the very inadequate treatment of it later, form a really serious draw-back. I have myself little doubt that the almost incomprehensible blunder of those who deny the influence of this mediæval drama on our Elizabethans, is in some cases due to the blunderers having taken their notions on the subject from Schlegel. And it would be extremely easy to pick out a small number of great errors, and a great number of small ones, to supplement these two.