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extraordinary powers, where there are no difficulties, revenge, love, and honour, and other noble emotions, do not deviate from their ordinary sphere, and man remains that common animal which in every day life we wish him to be. Such occasions, in which great difficulties are to be conquered, do not occur to us Germans. The state, under the protection of a standing army, pursues its steady march with a machinelike pace. We seek honour in service or in learning, and know nothing of the higher aims to which service and learning ought to be subservient. Our fair ones are rather attached to common than heroic feelings. The custom of duelling, which is fortunately yet preserved, reconciles enemies, and prevents the lust to murder which revenge inspires. Or if an occurrence important to mankind happens, it does not interest us so powerfully as it would other nations. The history of the miller Arnold would have set all the parliaments of France and all the parties of England in commotion. But in Germany it has only been spoken of as an agreeable novelty. No man has sounded the alarm of danger to be apprehended to the state, from the cabinet deciding the processes which arise among subjects; and no flatterer has ventured to say the King has once hurled his thunder in his wrath, and in altering the administration of justice, shattered a rock, and laid bare a mine of gold."

Moser is a steady advocate for the Germans following their own modes of thinking, and avoiding a servile imitation of the French, or Italian, or classical authors. He liked English better than French literature, but above every thing recommended the Germans not to fetter themselves with any system. In the few observations already quoted, he seems to us to have selected the chief cause of the want of national energy in German literature. In the few which follow he has remarked a conspicuous difference between the German and English languages, which, at present, owing to the very rapid cultivation of the German, and the extension of education, is much less than when he

wrote.

"Now, a few words on our language which the king regards as so inferior to the French, reproaching it both as poor and harsh. Although much improved since the days of Gottsched, it is, I admit, yet poor, but this is a fault of all written languages, and above all of the French; which is so polished and purified, that you cannot express a masculine idea in it, without offending its propriety. The English lan

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guage is the only one which, like the people, shuns nothing, but grasps at every thing, and will not, out of excessive chastity, become consumptive. It is the only language of Europe which is spoken by the people at the same time that it is written. It stands fast in its own nourishing soil; while our written language is gathered as it were from its native spot, and now withers and dries. Written languages are merely conventional signs of courts or of learned men, and the German which we use is as little the dialect of Meissen as of Frankfort. It is a selection of expressions necessary for our books. As new truths are inserted in them it extends itself, and that it is richer now than it was in the time of Gottsched, is a certain proof that more truths have entered into the common circulation of the learned."

There can be no doubt that many of the defects of German literature arose from the written and spoken languages being different. Since then, however, so many of the words of conversation have been taken into writing, and the written language has, in its turn, become so generally adopted in conversation, except amongst the lower classes, that this cause is fast disappearing. There are many excellent papers in Moser's miscellaneous writings which we pass over, because want of space does not allow us to do justice to them.

The two other volumes contain the most celebrated work of Moser. It is called Patriotische Phantasieen, (Patriotical Fancies,) and is a collection of papers which were published somewhat in imitation of the British Essayists, weekly at Osnabrück. For sixteen years, from 1766 to 1782, Mœser was editor of the Osnabrückischen Intelligenzblatter, and in this journal he published an article weekly on a great variety of subjects. His principal object was to make his countrymen acquainted with the constitution and laws of their country, and to procure a readier acceptance for acknowledged truths, by clothing them in a pleasant garment. He had it further in view to promote frugality, and a better taste among all classes. The best of these papers were afterwards selected by his daughter, and presented to the world in their present form. The range of subjects which Moser embraced was much more comprehensive than that of the British Essayists. As early as 1773 he was the enlightened advocate of a free trade in corn,

His observations on the causes of the decay of the commerce of Germany, particularly of the Hanse Towns, are still referred to as good authority. No man more closely examined than he did the origin of the personal servitude of the peasantry, and the consequences to which it led. But these and many other papers on similar weighty subjects, are not those which are read with most pleasure. There are a thousand little tales, and histories, and observations, all tending to a moral end, which are told in a manner that would not disgrace Addison. We shall quote two of the shortest specimens we have met with, but are quite unable to give them the naivété they have in the original.

"Rules are always valuable. "At the end of a certain village in Westphalia, a high post stretching out an iron hand had pointed out for many years the best road to the city. A rope-dancer once met the village bailiff near this post, and asked him what had persuaded him to direct all travellers the same road ?-if every person was not at liberty to choose his own? and if he could affirm that there were any such thing as right roads? He (the rope-dancer) could not only reach the city quicker by jumping over hedges and ditches, but every body would gape at him with wonder. Our post, said the bailiff, only points out the most common, the safest, and the most level road, and but for it, nobody would know how much shorter another might be found.

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"In the mean time, a young man came gallopping up on a fiery horse, and, leaping over every obstacle, pursued a straight course to the city. See,' said the bailiff, ' this youth will make shorter work of it than you, and will cause as much astonishment. What would you think if we were to place the finger-post so as to direct every body to follow him ?'

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"You are a simpletón,' answered the rope-dancer; you would break a good many necks if you did. Even so,' said the bailiff; and we therefore point out a safe and sure road to travellers, without troubling ourselves about (that which may be taken by rope-dancers and fearless horsemen.' A philosopher, who had listened to the conversation, observed, that common

roads or rules are always necessary, though men of genius do not follow them.""

“John could not live,-an everg-day

Occurrence.

"Did you tell the toll-clerk at the gate, John, that he must open his eyes bet

VOL. VII.

ter, and not regard the lying invoices of the carriers, as if they were pure truth?'

"Yes, Sir; but people must live ;and, according to the proverb'above all, no proverbs, even "No but, if you please, friend, and, they are taken from this year's calendar. I hate them worse than attornies' quibbles, and you know, from experience, they are of no value in paying tolls.'

"Just as you please, Sir. only say, if he opens his eyes, the carriers close their purses, and the man cannot live on his hundred thalers a-year.'

"What, again? I am afraid you do It is not know what living is, John. not to live which is difficult, but to live after a certain manner. The prince complains he cannot live the field-marshal cannot live-the minister, the toll-clerk, cannot live-and perhaps you cannot live on the ten thalers I give you yearly. Every man concludes, that, because he cannot live after a certain manner, he must be a cheat. If I were to promote you to be toll-clerk, you also would not be able to live."

have a better opportunity of exercising my "Perhaps not, Sir; but I should then senses than at present. If I should only close my eyes once a-day, I should be better off than I am in your honour's service, though I keep them open night and day. To be sure, one must live like others; if the superintendent's wife has a silk gown, my beloved must have a lustre.'

"I should think, friend John, though Mrs Superintendent lights the candle at both ends, your wife may still be reasonable enough to cut her coat according to her cloth. But, if you are wise, you will not marry yet. The women bring the men to Bridewell, and you may easily go there, should you close your eyes too often.'

"When the King, your honour, gives a man a place, he gives him also a salary that enables him to live. Justice and the King's own interest demand this; for whoever does not pay well is ill served.'

“Enough, enough. Your brother is sexton, and rings the bell three times aweek. This is an office, and I suppose he also must live by his salary. It is right that servants who devote all the hours of the day, and many of the night, to their masters, should be supported according to their condition; but it would be intolerable if the shoemaker who makes a dozen pairs of shoes yearly for one person should expect to live by them. However, you may go to the toll-clerk, and tell him the King is pleased to dispense with his services, and to appoint you in his place.'

He was toll-clerk, but soon found he could "Who was now happier than John?

not live. He married his lady's maid, but He shut his he was now less able to live. eyes twice a-day, and still could not pay 3 p

for all the shawls and lustres of his wife. She was unfaithful to him, but even that did not enable her to live. They were both at length sent to Bridewell, and now they can live."

Many other pieces, though they would furnish us more favourable specimens, are too long to be quoted; and these may, probably, suffice to give the reader an idea of the writings of Moser. Although there is something in their homeliness and bonhommie which appears peculiarly German, yet there may be traced in most of them a partiality to our authors, and very often imitations of them. Some of the pieces are, indeed, translations from our essayists. We will not argue the question, which of all the nations of Europe has had the most influence on modern literature; but every Briton may be delighted to see his countrymen leading the way in almost every branch of useful knowledge. It was the fate of the Greeks, while living, but conquered, to give laws to the taste of Rome. Rome herself had disappeared as an empire before her productions were adopted by admiring posterity. Italy and France have, in their turn, enjoyed the honour of being imitated by less cultivated nations; but, at present, it seems as if Britain is the instructress of the world in the art of writing as well as of governing. Even France has not disdained to borrow from us. Nearly all the additions she has made to her tragic drama, in modern times, have been taken from Shakespeare, though his spreading natural oaks have been clipped like a garden yew to fit them to the French stage. The influence of our national productions is, perhaps, more conspicuous in modern German literature than in any other; and, extending over the world, ought to be more gratifying to the self-love of Britons than the most splendid triumph of our arms. A history of our wars may soothe our pride, but it must ever excite mingled sensations of regret and exultation: but a history of the influence we have exerted on the mind of Europe would pour on the reader one unmingled stream of satisfaction.

Moser is distinguished for a great deal of patient research-for an acute lively manner of setting forth his opinions, and a plain fearlessness in expressing them-which, at the time he

wrote, were little known to his countrymen. His style is clear, animated, and unencumbered, rich in Germanisms, and quite free from that affected etymological purity of phraseology which distinguishes the writings of living German authors, and renders them difficult to be understood by those who acquired the German language a quarter of a century ago. We are of those who think the Germans do not improve in prose writing.When we turn back to the plain and energetic style of the period at which Moser lived, and compare it with the crazy, involuted writings of the present day, we grieve to think that they are constantly straying still further from that beautiful simplicity which is the crown of good writing. Moser had not a lofty, but an equal and comprehensive mind. He made no discoveries, and invented no hypotheses; but contented himself with enforcing known truths. His course was steady and equal, shedding a pure and brilliant light till his death. He laboured-as, perhaps, all wise men ought

to dispense instruction to his immediate neighbours, convinced, apparently, that those precepts are most effectual which are supported by example. He wrote more for his countrymen than for the world, which, perhaps, is the reason why his fame has scarcely extended beyond Germany. He effected no revolution in what is miscalled philosophy, because he never advocated any absurd theory. He founded no sect, and excited no parties to a war of words, by sounding any of the numerous trumpets of mysticism; but he enlarged the knowledge and the enjoyments of his grateful countrymen. If we may judge from the reputation which some of his contemporaries-the authors of useless theories have acquired, it would have been wise in Moser, he been desirous of fame, to have propagated some new system. the world-or, at least, for the learned world, which bestows literary honour-such doctrines have a greater charm than the rational and useful writings of Moser. Abounding in good sense, and quite free from "that affectation of French phrases which may be observed in the comedies of Iffland, and in the writings of other contemporaries of Moser; and free also from that affectation of purity,

had

For

which, never allowing a modern author to use a word not etymologically German, has created a new language, the writings of Moser may be safely recommended to students of the German as fair models of style, and as containing nothing to corrupt the heart, seduce the fancy, or mystify the understanding.

THE MAREMMA, A TALE.

THE following little Tale, written some time ago, was intended to have been enlarged by the introduction of other characters and incidents, and afterwards published separately; but a poem on the same subject, by a writer of considerable celebrity, having recently made its appearance, the Author of the "Maremma" has, in consequence, given up the idea of its publication in any other mode than the present.

"THE history of Desdemona has a parallel in the following passage of Dante. Nello Della Pietra had espoused a lady of noble family at Sienna, named Madonna Pia. Her beauty was the admiration of Tuscany, and excited in the heart of her husband a jealousy, which, exasperated by false reports and groundless suspicions, at length drove him to the desperate resolution of Othello. It is difficult to decide whether the lady was quite innocent, but so Dante represents her. Her husband brought her into the Maremma, which, then as now, was a district destructive to health. He never told his unfortunate wife the reason of her banishment to so dangerous a country. He did not deign to utter complaint or accusation. He lived with her alone, in cold silence, without answering her questions, or listening to her remonstrances. He patiently waited till the pestilential air should destroy the health of this young lady. In a few months she died. Some chroniclers, indeed, tell us, that Nello used the dagger to hasten her death. It is certain that he survived her, plunged in sadness and perpetual silence. Dante had, in this incident, all the materials of an ample and very poetical narrative. But he bestows on it only four verses. He meets in Purgatory three spirits; one was a captain, who fell fighting on the same side with him in the battle of Campaldino; the second, a gentleman assassinated by the treachery of the House of Este; the third was a woman unknown to the poet, and who, after the others had spoken, turned towards him with these words:

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THERE are bright scenes beneath Italian skies,

Where glowing suns their purest light diffuse,

Uncultured flowers in wild profusion rise, And nature lavishes her warmest hues ; But trust thou not her smile, her balmy breath,

Away! her charms are but the pomp of Death!

He in the vine-clad bowers, unseen is dwel. ling,

Where the cool shade its freshness round thee throws,

His voice, in every perfumed zephyr swelling,

With gentlest whisper lures thee to repose, And the soft sounds that thro' the foliage sigh,

But woo thee still to slumber and to die.

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of praise

Is still the joyous herald of her way; And beauty's light around her dwells, to throw,

O'er every scene, its own resplendent glow.

Such is the young Bianca-graced with all That nature, fortune, youth, at once can give;

Pure in their loveliness-her looks recall Such dreams, as ne'er life's early bloom survive ;

And when she speaks, each thrilling tone is fraught

With sweetness, born of high and heavenly thought.

And he, to whom are breath'd her vows of faith

Is brave, and noble-Child of high descent, He hath stood fearless in the ranks of

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