! posterity, along with the celebrated ode of Manzoni, which is composed in the same spirit. Nicander, the author of Napoleon's monologue, in this collection, by introducing the Evil Spirit, whom he represents as having snatched the conqueror of Europe from the flames of Moscow, and afterwards, from the carnage at Waterloo, that he might die an ignoble death at St. Helena, betrays clearly enough the point of view in which he beheld the hero of our century, whose sun set in the conflagration of Moscow, and in the snow and sleet of a Russian winter, to rise no more. Great as were the deeds he achieved subsequently, though they may claim our admiration, yet we can view them only as the results of a desperate courage, opposed to the united forces of Europe. His star was extinguished-Heaven had judged him. What the poet of Napoleon's monologue at St. Helena puts into the mouth of his hero, contains not only poetical and psychological, but also historical truth; for who could doubt but that wishes, such as the banished man by him is made to utter, were really lurking in his heart? that such a complete disgust of life and bitter hatred of mankind, associated with the sense of his former, still unenfeebled, vigour, occupied his soul? Speaking of the poems of these Scandinavians, we cannot pass over in silence a countryman of theirs, the philosopher and poet Thomas Thorild, the author of the Maximum, or Archimetry.' From him we possess some observations on Napoleon, at the time of the consulate, which, probably, are unknown to most of our readers, though well deserving of general circulation. This distinguished Swede did not overlook the greatness of the conqueror of Italy and Egypt; but he perceived already, at that period, that Napoleon was not blessed with those sacred principles of universal morality which alone can render greatness a blessing to mankind. Having dwelt upon the greatness of Alexander and Cæsar, who had afforded the world only a spectacle, without having established a single principle of humanity,' he proceeds: ' And Buonaparte? Is it possible? He too? Surely he should have known what wAR is: there is only one kind of war: the war of heaven against hell; that is, the war of prosperity against misery on earth. He that vigorously produces the largest quantity of prosperity, and removes the greatest load of misery-he is at war: every one else carrying it on, war rages. The sword is thrice blessed, and it is only by the perception of prosperity, that we perceive that the sword is directed by God. Buonaparte also should have known what France is; and then his oriental manifesto would have run thus: Buonaparte, the Son of Heaven, is coming, and where he lives, there not one individual is to be left unblest. Every mortal is a child of heaven and his brother, and he must be respected and instructed, for the advancement of virtue. We are carrying on war only against vice and misery ; and the flash of our swords, and the thunder of our guns, only proclaim this supreme law of God-ALL SHALL BE HAPPY. Thus he seems to have no notion of the real nature of divine happiness, nor of infernal woe. For that brutish fancy which in a moment destroys the most exalted power, is a raging fury that can be appeased only by the cool justice of heaven. Rage, the more stormy it is, the more violent it grows. Even gloomy hate is a winter, which the fierce north wind renders more rigorous, whilst it is overcome by the congenial rays of the sun.' And a little farther: To them (the poets) I present once more the hero of our age. Behold! he is great enough for a general, but much too little for a warrior. He was not generous enough to be able to say to Cerachi: Thou speakest like a Roman; I know thy courage; tell me all. He had not soul enough to allow him to raise, in his constitution, each peasant to the dignity of a father, and each soldier to that of a son of the country. He was not honest enough to restore Rome and Greece.' This was the language of Thomas Thorild in the year 1800; his mind being inspired with the ideal of an hero, though not of one like Buonaparte. In this strain he proceeds: VOL. V.-NO. X. 2 L ceeds: Hark ye, all ye eminent poets! the philosophical century was too silly; let us commence the poetical age; though not one of the poetry of tradition, but that of truth; not one founded upon oracles, but upon nature. Let your poetical effusions be founded upon this theme: divine GREATNESS in deeds and in the dispensation of blessings. Sing! not ye juggling poetasters, but ye angels of heaven, sing: HAPPINESS TO ALL, Enrapture by the power of your heavenly lays, all great statesinen, all emperors and kings, until Greece, the Orient, and all mankind, shall be delivered from the disgrace of slavery, and we, at length, can view without blushing, and without being appalled, the light of heaven, and the flowers of the field.' Having mentioned in a former place two modern Latin Danish poets, who made Buonaparte the subject of their lays, we may as well here, in a few words, introduce to the acquaintance of our readers a Swedish bard, who has composed many poems in the classic language of ancient Latium. This is D. J. Lundblad, professor at Lund, highly renowned in his country as a poet and orator. Among his poems, edited by his son, there are three referring to the subject in question. We shall copy the third of them, it being the shortest. 'Mars tua, NAPOLEON, miratus et arma virosque, In his beautiful elegy on Moreau's death, this poet sings: Ille potens, magnusque, suo generosior aevo est, Quae natura dabat, non aliena petit. Vincere se est major, quam scantia moenia, virtus : Majus et imperium, dicere jura sibi. Non leges migrare ratas aut foedera mundi: Finibus est regnum se tenuisse suis, Hic natura jubet : vult hoc Diis aequa potestas. Non aliter terras pax habitare cupit. VICTORI haec talis constabat regula morum, Haec animi pietas, semita sancta ducum Napoleon poterat : VICTOR Sed maluit esse. There is none of all the European countries that, since the days of Austerlitz and Auerstadt, has been made to groan more heavily beneath the iron footsteps of the insatiable conqueror than Germany. Many of her ancient monuments and institutions were destroyed, many of her dearest ties torn asunder; great part of her prosperity, in the palaces of princes and in the abodes of individuals, was mercilessly crushed; she beheld violence, and him that exercised it, in his terrific form so near, that her admiration of the greatness of the victor necessarily was superseded by hatred and complaints. Yet these too exercised an inspiring power in the hearts of her poets, who, however, did not dare to give utterance to the sentiments they produced. At an earlier period, when Napoleon fought his Italian battles, when his banners victoriously floated in Egypt, when he crossed Mount St. Bernard, and at Marengo humbled the pride of Austria; then he excited also in the hearts of several German bards sentiments congenial with those that inspired Baggesen's muse,when he composed the abovementioned poems; but at a later period they became mute; and their songs were were heard again in a different strain, after all the world had obtained the persuasion that the improvement of Europe must be effected by means of a totally different nature. It would have been as becoming the gravity of the German nation, if its poets had been more sparing in their abuse of Napoleon after his fall. The Germans possess, however, one elegant piece of oratory respecting Napoleon, composed at the time when he had attained to the acme of his glory, by one of their most popular bards. We mean the discourse delivered by Kosegarten in the year 1809, on the birth-day of Napoleon; which, though a composition in prose, may properly be called a poem, it being, with regard to diction, one of the finest and most elaborate effusions of the genius of its author. It is notorious in Germany, how severely Kosegarten was censured both at home and abroad, on account of the tenour of this discourse, which with great propriety might be called a lyrical panegyric. Now that the inspired orator in the silent and protecting grave is inaccessible both to censure and to praise, every candid reader will readily do justice to this discourse, which contains many excellent and maturely weighed ideas, expressed in a masterly style, and gives ample evidence of a reflecting mind. Though the poet may be said to supersede, rather too strikingly, the orator in some passages; yet, if we make proper allowance for some singularities and a few exaggerations, the_remainder will stand a fair chance of approbation at the tribunal of history. The second part of this discourse, in particular, is profoundly conceived and admirably expressed. We do not know of an author on the continent who, at that period, ventured to tell the then ruler of nearly all Europe, truths more severe than those our orator both uttered and published in print, whilst he was surrounded by the warriors of that powerful man. He says, amongst others: May, in the mean time, the great man, whose nativity is celebrating to day, not only by ourselves, but by the nations extending from the Ebro to the Vistula, in what remains of his career, justify the confidence placed in him by his admirers, and appease those, who, as yet, remain estranged from him! May he be indefa-tigable in healing, by the wisdom of his laws, the wounds mankind have received from his sword! May, along with the rising superiority of his station, his views be exalted, and his great mind be enlarged, so as to comprehend both the intellectual and the physical prosperity of the whole human race! May he be soon enabled to exchange the laurel, bought almost too dearly, for the palm of peace. May he save his heart under the load of cares that are crowding upon him, and out of the carnage of so many battles carry off his humanity, as the most valuable trophy. May he reverence the tribunal of history, and stand in awe of the scourge of Nemesis, and spare the dearest privilege of man, the privilege of a free press! May he bear in mind, that he is answerable to God, and never forget, that he too cannot escape the last fatal hour.' These serious admonitions of the poet and orator remind us of the equally important words addressed to Napoleon at Lyons, in 1802, by the excellent Ugo Fuscolo, the spokesman of the Cisalpine republic, when he, with Demosthenian energy thus harangued him :- If many of these great men (he mentions here the names of Alexander, Cæsar, Augustus, Tiberius, Marcus Aurelius, Alfred, Leo X., &c. &c.) did not keep themselves unstained by crimes, it must be considered, that they were mortals like yourself; and it was not the hope, or the awe of their contemporaries, but fearless posterity, that inscribed their sentence upon their tombs. Countless instances, known to all, have already sanctioned this saying of the ancient sages: No man is to be esteemed virtuous, previously to his death.' Passing over in silence your glorious deeds, I fearlessly purpose praising you for what you intend to do for the benefit of our republic. For could we be grateful to you for any thing else? And what else but prosperity could our country expect of you, in whose veins Italian blood is flowing. Glory and power, forsooth, are easily gained, if wrested from general 2 L 2 general cowardice; conquerors and tyrants are, however, neither happy nor scarce; nor were you intended to aim at common glory. You are still wanting the only laurel that never yet graced the head of a mortal-that of being the saviour of conquered nations.....Envious tyranny is hostile to all that is great, nay to ali magnanimity and every spark of greatness; neither does it rest until all are extinguished. There is yet time given you for doing good. Do not commit the seed of happiness to the guardianship of men, but to that of the law; not to the generosity of nations, but to its inherent powers; lest you should expose the stability of your creation to the ingratitude of men, and to the caprices of fickle fortune..... Therefore strive to advance our prosperity, whilst you are providing for your own glory. Of this nature let your laws be; of this complexion your example.'. ... Since you cannot live for us for ever, be, at least, the surety of our liberty, by not invading it yourself. And, my whole country agrees with me, when I declare, that our liberty consists in having no chief, (save Buonaparte,) who is not also our fellow-citizen. Although there should be one mortal possessing the most unblemished character, yet not being a citizen subject to our common laws, and invested with power over us under the title of general, or deputy, he would in a short time overturn all military regulations; nay, the state itself.-No! no! there is neither liberty nor property, nor life in any country whatever in which national independence is fettered, though it were in the possession of the freest form of government.'.... Should the French government retain any right over us (save that of demanding our gratitude), be it ever so little, or distant—ah !—with what a deluge of blood would our grandchildren see the Adige and the Po overflow their banks; especially, when the terror of your name should have left us along with your person, and the surrounding nations should rise again to dispute with us our fields, our garments, and the example of France prove the excitement to, and the pretence for future horrid wars. How? should your numerous wonderful deeds yield us nothing but misery, slaughter, and tears? And the hope of Italian glory, should it again be reduced to the certainty of unavoidable disgrace? Oh! what an inglorious night would cover your name, if, one day, the Cisalpine nation were compelled to exclaim, "Why did not you leave us prostrate in our accustomed drowsy slavery, instead of rousing us to the acquisition of a tempestuous and transient liberty?" Passages of a like tenour also occur in the spirited Letters of Jacopo Orti,' by Ugo Foscolo. Among the voices of contemporaries referring to Napoleon, the words of Foscolo deserve being recorded, who dared to address those weighty words to Napoleon, and to remind him of the august names of Moreau and Massena, as patterns of iinitation, and of their having been sharers in his success and triumphs. Whoever reads the five poems contained in this collection, will readily allow, that each of them possesses high poetical merit, different as the views of the authors are of the man to whom they refer. The great value of Manzoni's ode has been acknowledged not only in Italy, but all over Europe, especially in Germany, whose most eminent poets, with Göthe at their head, have rivalled each other in translating it into their mother-tongue. Don Juan und Faust. Eine Tragödie von Grabbe. Frankfurt am M., 1829. Hermannsche Buchhandlung. WITHIN the last few years, the euphonious name of Grabbe has been considerably noised abroad in Germany. The Hallische Litteraturzeitung,' one of the most influential periodicals of that country, when reviewing this author's first production (Dramatische Dichtungen,' 2 Bäude, 1827), placed him above Byron, in point of power and reckless daring. As to foolhardiness and ridicu lous rant, Mr. Grabbe is a match for any man living; as to power, the old gentlewoman of Halle may rank him above Byron and Shakspeare, and we wish him joy of his elevation, knowing as we do that his tumbling time is nigh at hand. The Dichtungen' in question teem with extravagance, and were a very fitting preparative for the tragedy named at the head of this article. The subject is sufficiently indicated by the title, and the poet has probably conceived that Gothe and Byron were liable to censure for making the gay gentleman and the learned gentleman distinct heroes, and in two distinct lar guages. Wherefore the bountiful-minded Grabbe hath made these two mad fellows subservient to his tragic designs, presenting us at once with the sensual Don Juan and the supersensual Faust. Donna Anna, the daughter of Don Guzman, is brought upon the moving scene, in order that both heroes may fall in love with her. This they do, and she, like a girl of discrimination, gives her heart to Juan, whom, from principle, she despises, and rejects Faust, who had conveyed her to a magic palace on Mont Blanc. The ruler of spirits kills the unrequiting object of his love, and immediately experiences the most cruel remorse for his own violence. Don Juan is more of a philosopher, comforting himself with the thought that there are a thousand beauties yet existing; he bears the account of the death of his mistress without even breaking up his banquet, to which he had recklessly invited the statue of Don Guzman, as in Mozart's celebrated opera. The career of the two heroes terminates as in the legend (i. e, they go to the devil), Don Juan's last exclamation being König und Ruhm und Vaterland und Liebe.' Faust is a caricature of-what we need not say. Don Juan is, as he has ever been with playwrights and tale-tellers of all kinds, a witty, sensual villain. Leperello is the same merry fellow we have all met, and hope to meet again. Goosey Guzman is the worthy father of an unfortunate young woman, who died as we have observed, without destroying Don Juan's appetite for supper. It is pleasing to see pretty stories, which have delighted so many juvenile readers and pantomime frequenters, thus coming forward in the still more queer and ticklish dress of tragic fustian. A genuflexion is due to this grave appearance, ' and shortly after A most unoriental roar of laughter,' will be found very appropriate and delectable. Dramatiske Digte. Hauch; Copenhagen, 1829. THE author's name is already known to many of our readers, and he is welldeserving of the celebrity which he enjoys in his own country. His works display excellences rarely found united in the same person. He possesses a correct knowledge of ancient literature, as well as of the human heart and its passions; and his diction is vigorous, warm, and highly poetical. The two volumes before us contain four dramas: Bajazet, Tiberius, Gregory VII., and Don Juan. In the first the characters of Bajazet and Tamerlane are very skilfully exhibited. In the second he has portrayed the gloomy tyrant, but, at the same time, delineated a picture of the Roman Colossus, as it was destroyed by the abomination and absurdity of its idolatry. To the powerful Hildebrand he has imparted that haughty vivacity, that energy of character, that persuasive eloquence, which gave to this impetuous pope such great power over the events of his time. The character of Don Juan has been portrayed more vigorously by our author than by some other poets who have treated the same subject. He is not represented by him, as by Moliere and others, as a giddy and licentious young man, but as a downright villain inured to the perpetration of crimes. Although these dramas were not intended for the stage, Tiberius has been acted with great applause at Copenhagen. Skyggebilleder |