surnames, such as Callaghan or O'Callaghan, which seems much attached to the Christian name Cornelius. These names appear in conjunction, not only in the peerage book under the title of Lismore, but over many a whiskey shop in the county of Cork. It is possible that the local bards may have preserved a list of the names of the chiefs of the sept of O'Connell; and that these names may agree with those given in the earlier part of the pedigree. Nevertheless, it is certain that the O'Connells were one of the most obscure of the Irish septs, at least since their expulsion from the county of Limerick at the first con quest by the English.* If it were wished to connect any modern family of the name with the ancient line, it would be most easy to do so, by assuming the identity of two Daniels or two Jeffreys. I do not mean to say that this has been done; I leave the probabilities to be judged of by the general character of the account published, and the general repute in the south of Ireland among all parties respecting the O'Connell family; though, indeed, I place little reliance on the latter, so prevalent is exaggeration wherever the smallest ground exists for detraction and disparagement. GOETHE'S TABLE TALK. Yours, &c. VERAX. [Derived from M. Eckerman's work, published in Germany in 1837.] THE admiration which Goethe has acquired, and the fame he has merited from the emanations of his genius, have fully entitled him to be distinguished as the "prince of modern poets." He differs from the poets of the present day in the physical strength which embodies all his creations; he has no recourse to the subterfuge of sympathy where the authority of the judgment claims to be exercised. He, in truth, has held "the mirror up to nature," in which man is justly reflected; his artifices, vices, and coquetry are fully exposed, while all his noble qualities are as evidently developed. There are perhaps but few poets who enjoyed such an expansive conception, connected with all the richness of expression, His characters are in all instances living, and the magic wand of his imagination creates dramatic action in all its delineations; from theme to theme the reader is led on in rapid succession, till at last his fancy is absorbed in ecstasy of delight. As Schiller is the great master-poet of the ideal German school, so is Goethe on the other hand equally distinguished as a realist. We are not carried up into the heaven of heavens by the mere furor of poetical combinations, but we find we have to do with men, and not angels. This great painter of the actual world, enriches all his characters with the attributes of men living and moving in a world of action. Goethe is no less remarkable for his prose compositions, which display great weight of thought, correct reasoning, and an enlarged knowledge of human nature, combined with reading of the most extensive description. In some instances it is true that his views and remarks may be deemed by some injudicious; but at the same time we should recollect that a man who honestly gives his opinion, is more commendable than one who, under the mask of candour, suppresses his real sentiments. In whatever light we view him, whether as a philosopher, poet, or dramatist, we always find him great, and always Goethe. That the society of such a man should be courted, and that his sayings should be deemed important, is a matter of no astonishment; and as Johnson had his Boswell, so did Goethe have his Eckerman. To this * Smith, in his History of Kerry, makes no mention of them whatever beyond this, that Derrynane was, in his time, farmed from the Earl of Cork by Mr. Daniel Connell. (P. 49.) GENT. MAQ. VOL. XII. 3 A distinguished writer we are indebted for many relations of Goethe, which would otherwise have perished. He possessed the entire confidence of this truly great man, and he commissioned him with the entire revision of his complete works. Such a labour brought him continually into the presence of Goethe, and produced confidential conferences; and M. Eckerman therefore penned down all that he deemed valuable, from the lips of Goethe himself. These conversations acquire additional importance, as they have in most instances for their objects the circumstances, characters, and works of contemporary writers. In order that the reader may form a correct judgment of the private sentiments of Goethe, we propose in the subsequent pages to make extracts from his writings of such portions as appear to be the most popular and interesting to an English reader. Goethe's Conversations, as collected by Eckerman, form a supplement to his other published Works. In our selections we shall generally give the preference to his opinions on and things, instead of selecting his maxims and literary theories, to be found among his other writings. It is an old remark, that truth has many faces, but this is more in appearance than in fact. men * It must be borne in mind that Goethe, in these conversations, throws off his character as a public man.* It is also to be recollected that they are opinions advanced by an octogenarian; and they display she astonishing strength of his mental faculties, even at that advanced period of life. Prose and Verse." In order to write prose well, the individual must have something to advance; but he who on the other hand has but little to state, may, notwithstanding, construct verses; for one word creeps as it were into the other; the end is atchieved, and a work completed, which in fact has no solid basis, although it seems to bear some resemblance to one. We will not go so far as to say that verses thus constructed are destitute of poetical feeling, but in such cases it does appear so. The reality of the fact should always furnish the motive and foundation; the business of the artist is, or ought to be, to mould into form that which will produce the beautiful and the harmonious." Schiller." In every respect Schiller was of that noble and dignified bearing, graced by a countenance and features of a remarkable quality, that indicated a being of the higher order of existence. The piercing yet soft expression of his eyes animated and perfected the whole contour. His great talents resembled his external appearance. In the varied subjects to which he directed his mind, he rigidly examined them in all their intricate varieties, and in every point of view. It may be urged, and perhaps with some degree of propriety, that he only studied his subjects as he found them admitted by common consent, and did not with philosophical calmness scrutinize the inward operations of the human mind: this was not his business as a mere poet. Perhaps this species of erratic feeling is in some measure accounted for in his not giving a finishing stroke to his compositions when originally composed. In several of his dramas he frequently changed the role at the very moment of its rehearsal. All the characters of his pieces are boldly conceived and executed, and are enlivened by appropriate incidents, and with all those dramatic peculiarities calculated to produce stage effect. In this respect my pieces are deficient, and on that account are not adapted to the theatre; but Schiller's talent, on the other hand, seems as if it was created entirely for the stage. every new production that emanated from his pen, his genius and greatness as a poet seemed to have increased with it; but it is rather a singular circumstance that ever since the composition of The Robbers, all his pieces more or less display the cruel and unfortunate fate of his heroes. From this propensity Schiller seems never to have freed himself. In * Goethe enjoyed the personal friendship of the Grand Duke of Saxe Weimar, by whom he was elevated to the dignity of Privy Councillor, with the title of Excellency. Schiller at the end of every eight days seemed, as it were, to be another and a more perfect man; every time I had the pleasure of meeting him he appeared more instructed, more learned, and his genius more fully developed, as well as his judgment more vigorous. The most beautiful and the most valuable present I ever received from him are his Letters: they may be truly classed among his best productions; and, as it respects myself, I value them as precious reliques. We may truly say that he was, upon the whole, a magnificent being; but, alas! he died in the plenitude of his greatness, and in the full manhood of his strength. "The Grand Duke of Saxe Weimar gave him a pension of one thousand dollars yearly, which was to be doubled in case of sickness. Schiller, in the nobleness of his spirit, refused this kind consideration on the part of the Duke, assigning as the reasons the following sentiments: I am gifted by nature with some degree of talent, and must therefore endeavour to support myself by this gift.' Unfortunately for him in one sense, as his family increased he was compelled to write two tragedies annually for their support: day and night were his whole energies exercised, and his physical strength sunk under the weight of mental exertion. Such was the activity of his mighty mind! "Schiller was always a temperate man, as it has been elsewhere remarked; but at certain moments of bodily feebleness he had recourse to the use of wine, for the purpose of producing physical force and energy; but, unfortunately for him, the use of these artificial means was only of a momentary advantage; they insi diously undermined his already weakened constitution, not only his bodily strength, but also enfeebled his powerful mental energies." "The Germans like to find in a work something serious-elevation, and inner plenitude; it is for that very reason that they place Schiller so high in the rank of their estimation, as it generally happens that the peculiar character of an author influences the public more than all the charms of his genius or talent. Napoleon said of Corneille : Were he alive, I should like to make him a Prince;' of Racine he did not so speak. It is for this reason that Lafontaine is so highly venerated in France; his works, besides their poetical merit, bear the stamp of a high and noble character.” Poetry." In speaking of the poets of the present day, I cannot help saying that they appear to me as if they were all diseased, and as speaking of this world as if it were one vast hospital; all are delineating the griefs and sufferings of this existence, in contrast with the one that is to come. This, in my opinion, is censurable, as itis the means of producing discontent. In my mind, it is truly profanation, as the chief end of poetry is to reconcile man with the calamities and storms of human life and his position in society but the present poetical generation is afraid of the truth, and never feel comfortable but when they shelter themselves in this their weakness. I : have found a proper character for these gentlemen, I shall call their poetry the poetry of the hospital. That is the POETRY which I consider really worthy of the name, which sings of combats, which throws moral courage into the soul of man, and which I shall designate by the term Tyrtæan poetry." The march of intellect.-"This is not the age to be in error; it was somewhat pardonable in the ancients. What purpose would all our researches answer, if young people were to begin again? If so, there would be no advance. As regards ourselves, we are in some measure somewhat excusable in our errors, because we have not shaken off the old leaven; but the world may justly demand more from those who come after us than from ourselves. There is no retrograde in the march of society; it must progress, taking advantage from toat which has preceded it, and proenough to make strides to attain the fiting from our experience. It is not end, but every step must have its particular purpose." Life compared to a Watering-place."When I reflect on the period of life I have already passed, and the companions with whom I associated, the idea of a watering place is presented to my mind. When an individual arrives there, he quickly forms acquaintances with those already there, and who are about to leave; when they have departed, their loss causes regret; you are then compelled to attach yourselves to the second generation of society, and closely, as it were, ally yourself to them; but they soon depart, to give place to the third, who arrive only a short time before you depart yourself, and to whom you are no longer willing to unite yourself." "Prince Eugene Beauharnais was one of those great characters which are seldom to be met with. Europe in him has lost a man of very great merit. I knew him personally, and have had the honour of spending a summer with him at a watering place at Marienbad in Bohemia. He was then a handsome man of about 42, although he looked older; which we can easily account for when we consider his active life, how one grand action rapidly followed another. "When at Marienbad he disclosed one of his plans, respecting which we disputed much; his intention was to have made a canal which should unite the Rhine with the Danube, an enterprize truly gigantic! but nothing seemed impossible to a man who had served under Napoleon, and who shook with his giant force the whole world." Death, and the Soul." When an individual has arrived at the age of 75 years, he can scarcely refrain at times from thinking of death. As it regards myself, this reflection has nothing unpleasant to me, as I have the firm conviction that our mind is com posed of indestructible matter, which will continue to exist from eternity to eternity it bears some resemblance to the sun, which we behold with our terrestrial eyes, and suppose at its decline to go down to rest, but which, in reality, never rests." calmness, the same after the battle as before it; victory and defeat were alike to him; he was always alive to his interests, and always knew what to do! "This Compendium of the world was well worth seeing; but whom did this great man resemble? He was but himself; only himself. One beheld, and knew that it was he!" "To make an epoch in the world two things are required: the first, a clever head; the second, a good heritage. Napoleon inherited the French revolution, Frederick the Silesian war, and Luther the monastical darkness." "The philosophical abstractions are injurious to the Germans; it inoculates their style with things unclear, incomprehensible, and extravagant. Men of practical dispositions write better. Schiller's style attained all its beauty, and all its energy, when he did not philosophise. There are among the Germans ladies of great superiority and accomplishments, who write exceedingly correct, and who in this respect surpass some of our most celebrated authors." "The English, generally speaking, always write well, because they are naturally born orators. The reason for this is easily accounted for,—it is because they are incessantly engaged with realities, and not mere idealities. The French preserve their character in their style; they are by nature a social people, and never forget the take great pains to be clear, in order public to whom they speak. They to convince their readers, and are graceful that they may delight them." 'If a person knows the German language well, he can easily dispense with many others. I speak not of the French, which is universal, and which in all countries supersedes the necessity of a translator. But as respects the Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish, we can read all these works perfectly well in translations; and as there exists no particular motive for the study of these languages, we can readily dispense with them. It is the disposition of the Germans to respect all that is foreign, and to endeavour to comprehend the original ideas of other nations. These circumstances, connected |