heet of paper lying before me all on
one side, and I have not discovered it till all has been written, or I
have found no room to write any more. I have possessed many such sheets
written crossways, but they have been lost one after another, and I
regret that I can no longer show any proofs of such poetic abstraction."

The conversation then returned to the French literature, and the modern
ultra-romantic tendency of some not unimportant men of genius. Goethe
was of opinion that this poetic revolution, which was still in its
infancy, would be very favorable to literature, but very prejudicial to
the individual authors who effect it.

"Extremes are never to be avoided in any revolution," said he. "In a
political one, nothing is generally desired in the beginning but the
abolition of abuses; but before people are aware, they are deep in
bloodshed and horror. Thus the French, in their present literary
revolution, desired nothing at first but a freer form; however, they
will not stop there, but will reject the traditional contents together
with the form. They begin to declare the representation of noble
sentiments and deeds as tedious, and attempt to treat of all sorts of
abominations. Instead of the beautiful subjects from Grecian mythology,
there are devils, witches, and vampires, and the lofty heroes of
antiquity must give place to jugglers and galley slaves. This is
piquant! This is effective! But after the public has once tasted this
highly seasoned food, and has become accustomed to it, it will always
long for more, and that stronger. A young man of talent, who would
produce an effect and be acknowledged, and who is great enough to go his
own way, must accommodate himself to the taste of the day--nay, must
seek to outdo his predecessors in the horrible and frightful. But in
this chase after outward means of effect, all profound study, and all
gradual and thorough development of the talent and the man from within,
is entirely neglected. And this is the greatest injury which can befall
a talent, although literature in general will gain by this tendency of
the moment."

"But," added I, "how can an attempt which destroys individual talents be
favorable to literature in general?"

"The extremes and excrescences which I have described," returned Goethe,
"will gradually disappear; but at last this great advantage will
remain--besides a freer form, richer and more diversified subjects will
have been attained, and no objec