INFLUENCE OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.

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shock to the spectators, and quickened their intellectual energies for a moment, but it effected no substantial or enduring change. The great literary body, with its diversified virtues and vices, underwent no modification; many of the best productions of the nineteenth century are anterior to 1830, and all that can be admitted is, that a few obscure literary maniacs have taken advantage of the greater liberty of the press to give vent to their distorted conceptions; which is, we believe, the full extent of the change, as affects the literary character of France.

In offering a summary or introductory view of the present state of French literature, in addition to the few observations we mean to venture on the actuating characteristics of France, and on the part she is destined to take in the future civilization of the world, it is fitting we should advert, in distinct terms, to the powerful influence which England and English literature have, directly and indirectly, exercised in France.

Shakspeare, it is but a truism to repeat, is the master-spirit of modern literature; but the effect of his power has been most sensibly felt and manifested in Germany, through which it has reacted on France, independently of the more direct channel. Goethe has emphatically proclaimed the fact with respect to Germany, in his memoirs (Dichtung und Wahrheit, ch. xi.): “We should have remained firm," he says, "in the intention of abandoning ourselves to nature in all its wildness, had not another influence long previously disposed us to consider the world and its mental enjoyments from a more elevated and unconfined, yet equally true and poetical point of view. At first this influence affected us only in secret, and we yielded to it gradually; but we soon gave ourselves up to it openly and without reserve. Can it be necessary to add that I allude to Shakspeare? Does not this name alone render all further explanation needless? Shakspeare is better known in Germany than anywhere else, even better, perhaps, than in his own country."

The family of English authors whose influence has been most striking in France forms a very singular group-Shakspeare, Ossian, Young, Byron. And it is the ideas only of these authors, imperfectly conveyed through miserable translations, that can have had such a vivifying action. The influence of Shakspeare is easily understood: it has been so universal, that it was impossible for the country to come into the slightest contact with England without its being felt. But Ossian! how could Ossian be popular in France, even during the implacable wars that severed

the two countries? It has always appeared a mystery, which we, however, are happily enabled to dispel.

When Bonaparte returned from his first glorious campaign in Italy, after the treaty of Campo-Formio, a sumptuous entertainment was given at the Luxembourg to greet his return. Talleyrand was appointed to address the youthful conqueror in a congratulatory harangue, and, among the numberless exalted qualities he extolled in him, the panegyrist emphatically commended him for his partiality to Ossian, then almost unknown in France. That the admirable Italian version of Ossian, by Cesarotti, was indeed the most favorite book of the young general, is, we know, an accredited fact. But it was then the fashion in literary circles to turn Ossian into ridicule, as has always been more or less the case; and there can be little doubt it was the intention of the crafty diplomatist, in his affected eulogy, to plant a caustic sarcasm, and to depreciate the hero by magnifying in him a meretricious taste. The result, however, was very different; the passion chimed in with the temper of the moment, and the whole nation began assiduously to read Ossian-not through the beautiful version of Cesarotti, unfortunately, but through a wretched French translation. Straightway, France became Ossianic; it was proclaimed that Ossian was the new Homer of the modern Alexander. The Ossianic fever, nevertheless, was not of long duration; the literary throne of the Celt tumbled when the empire of the Corsican passed away.

The temporary popularity that Young's Night Thoughts, a quarter of a century ago, obtained in France, is one of the most singular literary phenomena on record. Known only through the nauseous translation of Letourneur, which is not even a feeble shadow of the majestic grandeur of the original, the Night Thoughts suddenly mounted into the ascendant: every one read at least a fragment, and admired, or affected to admire. In our time, on the contrary, we see Young's solemn strains turned into ridicule, even by superior men ;* and there are few indeed who seem to appreciate the greatness of his merits. Probably, the gloomy turn of the poems, however disfigured, suited the melancholy tendency of French society after the restoration of the Bourbons: peace and calm seemed heavy, after so much tumult and glory; especially a peace enforced by the presence of foreign armies on the soil of France. Still it is undoubted that the partiality for

* M. Villemain, in his Cours de Littérature Française.

CHANGE IN THE FRENCH CHARACTER.

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Young, however much derided, together with the René of Chateaubriand, the Obermann of M. de Sénancour, and the Werther of Goethe, first conduced to impart to the light literature of France that sentimental and despairing tone, which was afterwards carried to such excess by the prevalence of the Byronian fever.

The influence of foreign literature in France has been similar to that of Goethe's Faust on lord Byron's genius: in both cases, the influence exercised has been very considerable, although chequered by comparative ignorance of the great originals. Thus, lord Byron was unacquainted with German: Faust was verbally translated to him by Shelley and Lewis; and yet its spirit pervades many of his works, so deep were the traces it had left on his mind indeed, to this indirect and imperfect knowledge of Faust, we are assuredly indebted for the creation of Manfred, a creasion to be placed by the side of Faust itself, and of its rival, Wallenstein. The peculiar sublimity of Manfred in many of its passages the agonies, doubts, and aspirations of the chief personage, in which we discern, amidst the mazes of bewildering speculation, a mind struggling to seize the subtle elements of a purer existence-have invested the work with a character eminently adapted to stir the thoughts and emotions of men, even in cynical France.

Those who are acquainted with the French people, will readily comprehend the important results accruing from these various accessory influences, sometimes so singular and capricious in their origin, and at all times so imperfect; for nowhere has literature a greater sway over the community, through the perpetually increasing mass of readers. The nation at large is acquiring a degree of gravity unknown to former times: it would be a gross error to conclude the French nation in 1841 similar to what it formerly was, even during the restoration. Since the butcheries of the great revolution-since the closer contact of France with other countries-since the experience derived from so long a series of political commotions, the French character has been gradually changing. The French enter into literature, poetry, and politics, with their whole soul. Worldly advancement is more an Englishman's real study; regard for religion and good sense are his characteristics. A Frenchman, on the other hand, is devoured by a craving for glory: during Napoleon's reign, it fed on warfare; since that period, it has fastened on politics and literature, and in both has led to extravagances. Politics in England are not of so all-absorbing a nature as to become intimately blended with the national poetry, or they transpire only in the

works of some of her bards, such as Byron, Shelley, Wordsworth, Coleridge; whereas in France, they are conspicuous through the whole range of literature. Politics and poetry are regarded with such interest, and deemed so closely interwoven, that each is more or less colored by the other. The influence of letters, as we have remarked, is one of the most potent influences in France. A great writer has always been, in France, a great power; even under Louis XIV., Boileau, Racine, and Molière, were the friends of the haughty monarch; and most of the greatest political characters of the nineteenth century have been, and are, literary men. It has often been asserted, that a man of science is not adapted for a politician. The maxim is equally narrow and false; inconsistent alike with past and present experience. If we confine ourselves to France, we have only to name Lavoisier, Laplace, Cuvier, Guizot, Arago; all equally attached to political and scientific pursuits-all illustrious in both.

Another great influence, comparatively unknown in other countries, but which has been most fatal in France, owing to its having extended beyond its natural, legitimate, and beneficial limits, is that of women. The influence of women has been at all times paramount in the nation, and the history of France teems with examples of its baneful effect. What chief of the Fronde is better known to us than the duchess of Longueville? The two darkest spots in the modern history of France-the massacre of St. Bartholomew and the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes-were owing to two women, Catherine de Medicis and Madame de Maintenon. Under Louis XV., the minister Choiseul was obliged to abandon the conduct of affairs to Madame du Barry; and the power and interference of Madame de Pompadour are matters of disgraceful notoriety. In another point of view, we may allude to the important parts played by Madame Roland and Madame de Staël during the French Revolution. We will not dwell, however, on particular instances, but merely add, that female influence has not been confined to the highest society and to politics; women in France have always occupied an important position; more adroit in their conduct, more quick in their perceptions, they have wielded an absolute sway over society at large. French women have constantly evinced a bold and restless disposition, and have established their independence and power on a more extended basis than elsewhere. So peculiar an influence must necessarily have materially affected the state of literature. We have seen the powerful impulse given by Madame de Staël; and, though this empire of women is on the

PROGRESS OF FRANCE, ENGLAND, AND GERMANY.

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wane in France, owing probably to the intellectual progress of the people, yet we behold in our own time, one who, by her glowing style and vivid imagination, stirs many hearts and minds in their inmost recesses-the gifted female Madame Dudevant, who writes under the appellation of George Sand.

We have spoken of the progress of France-of the bias she received from her neighbors, the natural result of unrestricted intercourse among nations—of the various changes she has undergone, and of her general intelligence; but, waving the egotism of nationality, every thoughtful mind must watch with an anxious eye the intellectual progress of all those nations upon whom depend, we may safely say, the future destinies of the world, as involved in civilization founded on Christianity, and in the diffusion of knowledge-two omnipotent agents of human welfare in times to come. France, England, Germany, and the United States, seem the appointed propagators of this Christian civilization, which, once spread and rooted, will be everlasting. The other Christian nations have not reached that state of intelligence, liberty, reason, and power, attained by these countries. France, England, and Germany, are especially the great leaders to progress; all the other nations imitate them. Germany, of all the

regions in the world, is that wherein the sources of instruction are most liberally opened and wisely disseminated; but Germany is far from possessing the political perfection of France, England, or the United States. On the other hand, we believe that England has not yet acquired the social organization, or, we will venture to say, the impartiality of France, at the present period; and France must acknowledge the superiority of the British nation in public spirit, industry, and patriotic institutions. These three European nations, again, might learn much in political economy and toleration from the United States. Each has reached some point of perfection, and proves its advance by the test of invention; thus, each of them stands, in certain respects, at the head of Christian civilization—an example to other nations—the vanguard of humanity in its onward course.

It is consequently to be observed, that in this work of progress and Christian civilization, each of these nations has its particular characteristic vocation, since it excels in certain faculties, without being at the same time utterly deficient in others. France, it is undeniable, by her vivid intelligence, has powerfully contributed at various periods to enlighten the world. Nowhere, in fact, has knowledge been made so easy, so popular, and so accessible to all; in proof of which we might adduce many distin