BOOKS.

MISS SWAN WICK'S FAUST.. •

IT would not be easy for an English reader to obtain any better- mastery of Goethe's great poem than by reading, first, Mr. Hay- ward's admirable prose translation of the earlier part of Faust,— the only part indeed which could have gained for this poem its- enduring fame,—and then studying the whole in Miss Swan- wick's scholarly and beautiful version, now for the first time given to the world as a whole, and given with the advantage of Retzsch's striking outline illustrations, a few of which add to the reader's power of entering into the poem almost as much as the most telling imaginative criticism. No book so attractive as this has appeared amongst those which are usually considered suitable for gifts, be- * amities Faust. In Two Parts. Translated by Anna Swanwiek. With Forty Illustrations, engraved on Steel, after Designs of Moritz Retzmeh. London: George- Bell and Sons. 1879.

cause very few of the dui have at once works of high genius for their basis, designs of a quite distinct sort of genius (but nevertheless, one genuinely devoted to the interpretation of the original genius, and not to the diversion of the reader's thoughts from the world of the author to the world of the painter) for their illustra- tions, and scholarship and taste of the truest kind employed in the rendering of the original into an English form. We have all these

conditions here, and only have to regret, and this we do sincerely, that the publishers have thought fit to condense the translation of the Second Part of Faust, on what seems to us a very insuffi- -cient pretext :—" In consideration of the length of the Second Part," they say, "some portions have been omitted, but care has been taken that the progressive development of the drama should not be interfered with." We are not amongst those who think the Second Part of Faust a work of high genius at all. It appears to us to be a wild and wandering piece, without unity, with- out dramatic force, without even sustained intellectual power. But still, if it were given at all, it should have been given with-

out curtailment. We should have liked to see Goethe's face, when told that a respectable firm of English publishers had taken upon themselves to guarantee that "the development of the drama was not interfered with" by these arbitrary omissions. We are not very sure that except as illustrating Goethe's mind,

and especially the tendencies of his thought as he grew old, we should care to read the Second Part of Faust at all. It contains, of course, some lovely songs, and some eloquent reflection ; but -on the whole, its chief interest is biographical, and not poetical. Still, such interest as it has, belongs also to many of the scenes which have been here omitted in order to shorten the drama ; nor are discretionary omissions of this kind allowable in principle. If the Second Part had been omitted altogether, we should have had no complaint to make. The labour which Miss Swanwick has spent on it must have been great, and

not of the kind which so fully rewards a translator, as that which she has devoted to the noble poem of Goethe's highest power. Still, after she had given that labour, and had put it in the power of the English student to obtain a very good

conception of what the great German poet designed in his con- -elusion of Faust, it is a little disappointing to have an arbitrary abbreviation given to us, on the plea of the too great length of the performance. Indeed, one of the chief points of interest in this Second Part of Faust, looked at biographically, is its re- markable tendency to run out into diffuse studies of the medimval and the antique, its extreme looseness of texture, its want of

human interest and of dramatic vigour, its highly artificial fancy, its extremely frigid dissertation. All this the reader fails in some measure to grasp in this abbreviated Second Part, and misses now and then a very pregnant bit of shrewd remark, too. For example, the condensed Second Part leaves out (what we have no doubt Miss Swanwick had translated with her usual felicity) the sarcasm of Mephistopheles on the incapacity of fools to use even the philosopher's stone well, when they get it :—

" Wie sich Verdienst mid Gluck verketten Du Wit den Theron niemals sin; Wean sie den Stein der Weisen bitten, Der Weise mangelte dam Stein."

"How luck and merit hang together Seems to these donkeys quite unknown ; With Wisdom's stone, I doubt me whether They had the wisdom for the stone."

Bence both by the faults and by the beauties omitted in this Second Part, the value of the Second Part,—which to us seems -chiefly of a biographical kind,—naturally suffers. It is a pity that with everything else so admirably adapted to their hands, the publishers should have injured Miss Swanwick's admirable con- tribution to our knowledge of German literature, by mutilating the Second Part of Faust.

HoweveS much as we regret this, it cannot be denied that the chief interest of the public will always centre in the First Part, and that they are here also enabled to study the whole scheme -of the Second Part, as well as its most beautiful elements, in detail. As a translator, we do not think it would have been easy for Miss Swanwick to finish her work better than she has here finished it. Of course, her translation of the Second Part could not have the variety and charm of her translation of the First Part, for the excellent reason that the poem itself is so vastly inferior. But perhaps for that very reason it is more nearly adequate to the -original. She has spared no pains on it. There is no sign of haste, or carelessness, or deficiency of interest. What could be 'done to render this rather dreary piece of fantastic imagination into graceful and musical English verse has been done ; and any one who, after losing himself in the tragic love of Margaret for Faust, can be fascinated by the magic loves of Faust and the shade of Helen, will probably learn as much of that episode in Faust's career from Miss Swanwick's refined and graceful version, as any poetical version could give him. Let those who would test Miss Swanwick's skill read the poetical scene in the Classic 1Valpurgis Night, in which Faust approaches the river Peneios, and meets there with Chiron the Centaur. But for our part, we con- fess that we are rendered as impatient by the Second Part of Faust,

as we should be by the supplementary work of a totally inferior genius, in the presence of the First Part; and though we are aware that the newest part of Miss Swanwick's work is the translation of this supplement of Goethe's old age, yet we turn away from it to the now greatly altered and vastly improved translation of which we have so long been in possession, as to the true treasure of this

volume. Though none of the many translators have given, or really could give, a thoroughly adequate version of this great

poem, Miss Swanwick attains, we think, in her revised edition, the highest level of any of them. Though in some scenes bob Mr. Theodore Martin and Mr. Bayard Taylor have succeeded better, neither of them, we believe, has produced a poem which, on the whole, gives so vivid an impression of the original.

There are scenes in which Miss Swanwick notably fails,--as, for instance, the scene in Auerbach's cellar in Leipzig, where she cannot persuade herself to enter into the coarse and vulgar merriment of the half-drunk students. But on the whole—and excepting the Prologue in Heaven, which we think inferior to most of the more exalted scenes,—the higher the poetry, the better is her translation. The reflective scenes, where Faust meditates on the secrets of nature and revelation, are full of terse and noble eloquence ; and the scenes with Margaret are still better. In many of them, Miss Swanwick has wonderfully improved on her former version. No one can read the new translation of Margaret's exquisite lament,—

" Mein' Ruh' jet hin,

Mein Herz jet schwor,"

without noticing at once how far more simple, and full of the

irregular movements of a peasant-girl's trouble, is her new version than her old :—

"MARGARET'S Room.—MARGARET (alone, at her spinning-wheel).

My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never,

And nevermore!

Where him I have not, Is the grave to me; And bitter as gall The whole world to me.

My wilder'd brain Is overwrought ; My feeble senses Are distraught.

My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore!

For him from the window I gaze, at home; For him and him only Abroad I roam.

His lofty step, His bearing high, The smile of his lip, The power of his eye.

His witching words, Their tones of bliss, His hand's fond pressure, And ah—his kiss !

My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore.

My bosom aches To feel him near ; Ab, could I clasp And fold him here !

Kiss him and kiss him Again would I, And on his kisses I fain would die !"

Even this is not the highest point Miss Swanwick touches. In the scenes of penitence and anguish the translation rises even higher, and wherever she has altered her previous version—and she has altered it often and carefully—she has altered it to simplify, to intensify, to exalt. Those who know Miss Swan- wick's earlier work, however much they may have valued it, will. find the present one far superior, not only from what it adds, but from what it has altered. Especially in force and simplicity, it is greatly superior to her earlier work. The whole book, with Retzsch's fine outlines,—of one of which, the picture of Faust and Margaret together in the garden, Shelley said that it turned him giddy but to touch the back of it, and know what he should see when he turned the page,—makes one of the most beautiful poetical renderings of a foreign poet with which we are acquainted.