differ greatly. Any way, we have much yet to learn from the unpublished diaries and other important documents still in the possession of the great man's grandsons, and which they have yet refused to impart to the public. Bayard Taylor has no great opinion of the Life by Lewes, which he considered not a biography, but an elaborate apology; written by a man, clever no doubt, but informed by no real sympathy with the spirit of the masters life.
The external lineaments of the great author are well preserved for us by the excellent portrait in the ordinary German editions of Faust: the engravings from the portrait by George Dawe, R.A.; the monument in Frankfort by Schwanthaler; the jove-like bust of Rauch; and the marble effigy in the library of his native city, where we see him in sitting posture, by Marchesi.
To this illustrious man a long and prosperous career was allotted. Born at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, August 28, 1749, he reigned for more than half a century at Weimar, the acknowledged primate of the intellectual life of Germany. Of him, Lord Byron, in the dedication of Werner, professed himself "one of his humblest admirers;" and in that of Sardanapalus, addressed him as "the first of existing writers, who has created the literature of his own country, and illustrated that of Europe." He belonged to the ministry,—was the friend and counsellor of his own sovereign,—and received honourable distinctions from other monarchs. But the "paths of glory," and those of obscurity, converge alike to one common centre; and after an existence of nearly a century, which had been entirely devoted to science, literature, and art, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe rendered up his spirit at Weimar, on the 22nd of March, 1832, in the eighty-third year of his age, with the memorable words upon his lips,—to which some would apply a secondary meaning,—"Dass mehr Licht hereinkomme."
"Rest thou soft in heavenly slumbers,
Near thy friend and prince reclined;
For thy life was nobly spent,
In culturing thine age's mind.
Till space and time have passed away,
Thy name shall live in mortal breast;
Then rest thee on thy tranquil couch
By earth adored: in Heaven thrice blessed.
A last word upon the first. Fraser, in the heading of this portrait, fell into the same error which Byron had previously done, in his letter to "Baron Goethe." (Prefatory matter to Marino Faliero.) The fact is, Goethe was ennobled, having the "Von" prefixed to his name; but he never received the tide of "Baron." To speak of him with this prefix to his name is no less absurd than to say "Lord Gladstone."
XXIII.—ISAAC D'ISRAELI.
Whether I regard his long and honourable life, exclusively devoted to the best interests of literature,—the pure and elevating pleasure which his writings have bestowed,—the influence which they have had in diffusing
