oethe's life, and an objective and critical appreciation of
his personality.[18] Both are in profound sympathy with their subject,
but neither is a blind hero-worshipper. In Mr. McCabe's life we are
not only introduced to the scientist who is ever in quest of new
worlds to conquer, we are also made acquainted with the pagan epicure
ever engaged in amorous experiments! We are not only introduced to the
sublime poet and prophet, we are also introduced to the incurable
egotist, who could only find time to visit his old mother once every
ten years, whilst, as boon companion of a petty German Prince, he
always found time for his pleasures. We are not only admitted to
contemplate the pomp and majesty of his world-wide fame, we are also
admitted to the sordid circumstances of Goethe's "home." And our awe
and reverence are turned into pity. We pity the miserable husband of a
drunken and epileptic wife rescued from the gutter; we pity even more
the unhappy father of a degraded son, who inherited all the vices of
one parent without inheriting the genius of the other.

[17] "The Youth of Goethe." By P. Hume Brown. 8s. net
(Murray.)

[18] "Goethe, the Man and his Character." By Joseph McCabe.
15s. net. (Eveleigh Nash.)

I.

The first quality which strikes us in Goethe, and which dazzled his
contemporaries, and continues to dazzle posterity, is his
universality. He appears to us as one of the most receptive, one of
the most encyclopaedic intellects of modern times. A scientist and a
biologist, a pioneer of the theory of evolution, a physicist and
originator of a new theory of colour, a man of affairs, a man of the
world and a courtier, a philosopher, a lyrical poet, a tragic, comic,
satiric, epic, and didactic poet, a novelist and an historian, he has
attempted every form of literature, he has touched upon every chord of
the human soul.

It is true that, in considering this universality of Goethe, it
behoves us to make some qualifications. His human sympathies are by no
means as universal as his intellectual sympathies. He has no love for
the common people. He has the aloofness of the aristocrat. He has a
Nietzschean contempt for the herd. He takes little interest in the
religious aspirations of mankind or in the struggles of human
freedom. The French Revolution remains to him a sealed book, and his
history of the campaign in France is almost ludicrously disappointing.

With regard to what has been called h