LEIPZIG.

——Spargere vocesIn vulgum ambiguas.——

——Spargere voces

In vulgum ambiguas.——

In such a prodigious collection the great majority of pictures must be of inferior note, and unworthy of attention. There are, however, a vast number of gems and chef-d’œuvres, and on these, the traveller will, almost always, find artists (male and female) constantly employed in copying—many of them for their daily bread—not a few, as amateurs, even of the highest rank in life. Here, then, are a series of guides, more practical than all the critics which commit their lucubrations to the press.

Although Saxony is a Protestantstate, it is a Catholickingdom, and therefore there is a good sprinkling of sacred subjects in the Dresden galleries. The intentions of delineating the mysteries of our holy religion on canvas, may be pious, but the attempt to do so is little less than impious. What required the miraculous power of a Deity to effect, is not likely to be imitated in oil and colours by the hands ofman. The great truths ofreligionare addressed to the heart rather than to the eye—to the internal feelings rather than to the external senses—to faith rather than to demonstration. Let the painter beware how he tries to reducetheseto sensible and visible representations!

Be this as it may, the stranger will always find artists and artistes busy in copying Bellini’s “Christ”—Titian’s “Tribute Money”—the same painter’s “Mistress”—Veccio’s “Virgin and Infant”—P. Veronese’s “Adoration of the Virgin and Child”—“The Finding of Moses”—Giorgione’s “Meeting of Jacob and Rachael”—“The Marriage of the Doges of Venice with the Sea”—the “Four Doctors of the Church,” by Dosso Dossi—Raphael’s “Madonna de san Sisto,” the jewel of the gallery, which was bought for £8000—Corregio’s “Virgin and Child”—the “Virgin and Infant in the Manger,” the second gem of Dresden paintings,—the “Recumbent Magdalene”—“the Sacrifice of Isaac,”—“Venus and Bacchus”—Rubens’ “Descent of the Fallen Angels”—Van Dyk’s “Charles I. and Family”—Rembrandt’s “Own Self and Wife”—Poussin’s “Discovery of Moses in the Bullrushes”—Claud’s “Acis and Galatea,” &c. These and scores of others are in perpetual transition from the walls of the galleries to the easels of the copyists—hence a common complaint that such collections as these give the highest encouragement to imitators, and almost annihilate originality.

This royal toy-shop—this magnificent museum of costly curiosities, might satiate the eyes and appetites of all the Arabian princes and princesses—of all the Persian shaws and Peruvian monarchs, that ever lived—nay, itmight leave theGrand Mogulhimself (could his court be re-established in Hindostan) nothing to wish for or want!

“Whoever,” says an intelligent traveller, “takes pleasure in the glitter of precious stones—in gold and silver, wrought into all sorts of royal ornaments, into every form, however grotesque, that art can give them,without any aim at either utility or beauty, will stroll with satisfaction through the apartments of this gorgeous toy-shop. They are crowded with crowns and jewels, and regal attire of a long line of Saxon princes;[89]—vases and other utensils seem to have been made merely as a means of expending gold and silver—the shelves glitter with caricatured urchins, whose bodies are often formed of huge pearls, or of egg-shells, to which are attached limbs of enamelled gold. One is dazzled by the quantity of gems and precious metals that glare around him:—he must even admire the ingenuity which has fashioned them into so many ornaments and unmeaning nick-nacks. But there is nothing that he forgets more easily, or that deserves less to be remembered.”

Mr. Russell’s opinion has been cavilled at, as not giving sufficient praise to the merit of patience labour and skill that have been expended on this royal collection. If these had resulted in things that were either useful or ornamental, the merit might have been granted; but neither the one nor the other has been the consequence of an expense equal to that of the national debt. The best exception to this general censure is—“theCourt of the Great Mogul,” representing the EmperorAurengzebeupon his throne, surrounded by his guards and courtiers, in appropriate costumes, according to the description of Tavernier. There are 132 figures, all of pure enamelled gold, which costDinlingereight years’ labour, and the Saxon treasury eighty-five thousand dollars! This is decidedly the most elaborate and meritorious work in the Green Vaults; but is it more so than that which was proposed byDinocrates—the carving of MountAthosinto a statue representing Alexander? I think the latter was the more noble of the two. The Macedonian project would have given occupation and subsistence to tens of thousands of labourers for half a century—thematerialsbeing barren rock. The Saxon enterprize occupied only one man for eight years—the material being pure gold, and precious jewels. But as men, women and children will run after pretty baubles, glittering gewgaws, and rare curiosities—and as a tax of one shilling a head is levied in the Green Vaults, a tolerable revenue is derived from this royal shew-shop, independent of the constant influx of wealth from the legions of travellers that ascend and descend the Elbe. It is but justice to acknowledge that the curators who attend visitors around these costly treasures, are polite and accomplished gentlemen, who speak various languages, and are ever ready to afford the fullest information on every subject. Thesevaults, the picture-galleries, and armoury, &c. are open every day in the week to the public.

If a tour through the Green Vaults excites reflections on the ingenuity which man has evinced in carving inanimate materials into the shapes and forms of various living things, an inspection of the immense armoury here, is calculated to call forth emotions of a very different description! Here we find the ingenuity of man exerted and tortured in the invention of innumerable deadly weapons by which his fellow man may be carved into fragments, pierced with wounds, or battered into mummies![90]The Rustkammer certainly leaves the Tower of London at immeasurable distance in the rear, not only for the variety of instruments used in general warfare, but for those which were employed in tilts, tournaments, and the chase. Here we see not merely the arms of the feudal ages, but the horses, the knights themselves, and all the trappings and accoutrements thereunto belonging.

The prodigious labour and wealth expended on man, horse, armour, and trappings, excite our astonishment rather than our admiration. The great variety of drinking vessels, horns, goblets and cups of all dimensions, and adapted for all depths of potation, would have charmed the heart of the Baron of Bradwardine, and, well nigh eclipsed the “Blessed Bear” of that hospitable old Highlander! But what shall we say to the armour of those days—for instance, that of Augustus the Second, surnamed the Strong? The French giant, who displayed his powers some years ago, at the Adelphi theatre, would hardly strut under it, weighing, as it does, more than two hundred pounds!

It has been observed that—“were Europe thrown back, by the word of an enchanter, into the middle-ages, Saxony could take the field, with a duly equipped army, sooner than any other power. We cannot easily form any idea of the long practice which have been necessary to enable a man to wear such habiliments with comfort, much more to wield such arms with agility and dexterity. But the young officers of those days wore armour almost as soon as they could walk, and transmigrated regularly from one iron shell into another, more unwieldy than its predecessor, till they reached the full stature of knighthood, and played at broad-sword,with the weight of a twelve-pounder on their backs, as lightly as a lady bears a chaplet of silken flowers on her head in a quadrille.”

The “twelve-pounder” on the back is a pretty considerable bounce, far outstripping Jonathan’s sea-serpent, since a “twelve-pounder” would weigh at least fifteen hundred pounds! But let that pass. No discipline or early tuition would enable a person of the present day to fight in thearmour of the middle-ages. It would require a series of generations trained in the habits, diet, and manners of those times, to produce a progeny capable of enduring such coats of mail, or wielding such Herculean weapons as were in use seven hundred years ago. The present age does not yield to that of any former period, in heroic deeds or personal courage; but science now supersedes brute force, and the energies of the brain amply compensate for diminution of muscular strength.[91]

As there is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous—from solemn tragedy to laughing farce—so are there only a few paces between the great magazine of toys in the green vaults, and the great magazine of manslaughter in the Rustkammer. From these depôts we turn away, more in pity than in admiration, to repositories of a very different kind—those of the peaceful arts, that mingle with, and contribute to, our domestic comforts and social enjoyments, and which combine elegance with ornament, and utility with beauty. Need I allude to the Saxon porcelaine, celebrated over Europe and the world.

I own that I entertained a secret hope that the number ofotherlions in this city would drivethisparticular one out of the memory of my better-half. I had three reasons for this hope or wish:—1st, the saving of expense—2d, of carriage and breakage—3d, of—smuggling! But I had calculated without my host. Just when we had come to the conclusion, that we had now seen all the sights, it was suddenly recollected that the best of all was happily yet in reserve—the porcelaine manufactory! No. You may as well attempt to drag a lady from Geneva without purchasing trinkets, as from Dresden without buying China. A compact, however, was signed, that we were only to enjoy the luxury of viewing the repository, without encumbering our luggage with any of its precious but brittle wares. Nevertheless, it happened that some of the articles were found to be so “dog cheap,” and so pretty withall, that, to leave the Elbe without taking away some specimens of its renowned manufactures, was considered to be a kind of travelling solecism, if not a porcelaine suicide! It was urged, moreover, that thead valoremduty, at an English Custom-house, would be—next tonothing. I strongly suspect that this prophecy, like many others, tended to fulfill itself, and that thedutywas, as predicted, next tonothing!

We had been bored, for some days, by the Laquais de Place, to make an excursion to a place called Tharand, about ten miles from Dresden, a locality which was represented as the ne plus ultra of all that is sublime and beautifulin natural scenery—and moreover, that it was visited by every traveller who passed through Dresden. So we posted off one fine morning, and arrived at this valley of Rasselas. We found it situated where three narrow and steep defiles meet at one point, and where the ruins of an old castle, perched on a sharp promontory, overlook a small village on one side, a watering-place on the other, and the road to Dresden in front. The locality has nothing of the sublime, little of the beautiful, and less of the romantic in its composition. It is a picturesque spot, but not worth the trouble of going three miles to see it. The lacquais de place will always endeavour to eke out an additional day’s boar hunting, when lionizing is at an end.

Of the Dresdenese themselves, it is “not my hint to speak.” They are like most other people under similar latitudes, institutions, and governments. Like most continental folks, they are fond of sitting in the open air, smoking their pipes and sipping their coffee. And no wonder. The air of the Bruhl Terrace, raised above the Elbe, and commanding a fine view of the opposite bank, as it stretches away towards Saxon Switzerland, contrasts wonderfully with the stagnant atmosphere and gloomy apartments of their own houses. The demolition of the fortifications round Dresden has given such lungs to the Saxon metropolis as must greatly increase the longevity of its inhabitants—contrary to what is likely to occur to the “heroes of the barricades,” who will now be barricaded, with a vengeance!

Saxony being a favourite pupil of the “Grande Nation,” the “glorious days of July” were rehearsed on the banks of the Elbe, and a representative constitution was extorted, without much force, from the king. The conversion of one archon (mon-arch) into three hundred archons elected by the people, and forming the “tiers etat,” or house of representatives, did not realize the golden dreams of the country. On the contrary, as the odious task of levying taxes was shifted from the shoulders of the king, who was always economical, to be divided among 300 representatives, the latter body nearly doubled the taxes, being now mere tools of the court!

However, the Saxons have obtained important privileges, and great extension of the franchise. Among other valuable rights acquired, by the people, is that ofelecting their executioner! This interesting functionary is considered a kind of gentleman—at least he is an officer of state, which is next thing to it—and has a house, land, and several perquisites attached to the office. Among these last is a claim to the bodies of all horses and cattle that die a natural death. This revenue from hoofs, horns, and hides, is said to be very considerable. It would be equally amusing and edifying to hear the professions and promises of the candidate forheadsman[92]delivered from the hustings, during the canvass. One of the promises or temptations held out by this “limb of the law”—this “sharppractitioner”—thismember of theexecutive—would, doubtless, be that, should any of his constituents honour him with their custom, he would be happy toservethem, on the shortest notice, on the most liberal terms, and with the utmostdispatch!

Swift asCamillascours along the plain—So darts on iron wings the thunderingtrain.

Swift asCamillascours along the plain—

So darts on iron wings the thunderingtrain.

The steam-engine possesses the all but miraculous power of contracting space and expanding time. Thus, it compresses the sixty-two miles between Dresden and Leipzig into fifteen miles—while it enables a three hours’ run by rail to throw off an expansion of ten spare hours to see the great emporium of books on the banks of the Estler, which hours would otherwise be spent in traversing the most monotonous road that ever man or beast drew their weary limbs along! Corn, corn, nothing but corn, or the bare stubble from which it was cut, meets the tired eye between the city of the pallet and the city of the pen. We become as sick, indeed, of wheat and oats, as the unwashed artisan of Birmingham is of the laws that confine these oceans of grain to the banks of the Elbe and the Vistula, instead of being diffused through the factories and work-shops of England—to appease the hunger and invigorate the limbs of a dense and manufacturing population. The rapidity of the train, the clanking of the machinery, the belching of steam, the evolution of smoke, and the scattering of burning cinders, render the three hours’ journey bearable enough. There is but one long tunnel, (between Dresden and Magdeburg) through which the train runs and roars and spits its fires—while at another place, it leaps clean over the river Elbe! A rail-road in the North of Germany is quite an oasis in the desert. One hundred and forty miles from Dresden to Magdeburg, with Leipzig in the centre, occupy only seven or eight hours, instead of three or four toilsome days by the snail-post.

Having had a good deal—perhaps too much—to do with books, I had some curiosity to see this great mart ofbuckhandlungs—at once the cradle and the grave of literature! The first thing that strikes the stranger is the eternal “buckhandlung” over every second door in the city. The next, is the paucity of carriages—a drowsky or a private vehicle being rarely visible. The third object is perpetually reminding us, not without sighs and groans, of the smooth trottoirs over which we were wont toglide in modern Babylon. Of all the towns through which I have limped and hobbled in my journey of life, Leipzig bears the palm for maiming and laming the unfortunate visitor, by means of its sharp stones and uneven pavée. I wonder that the seven-leagued and iron-shod boots of the students, together with the innumerable tomes ofheavy literaturethat are biennially carted through the streets of Leipzig, have not ground off the angles from the said stones. Yet they have not.

As I was unwilling to do the penance of Peter Pindar’s pilgrim, I directed my steps to the observatory, and mounted its highest balcony, when Leipzig and its contiguous battle-field lay stretched beneath me. The astronomer kindly pointed out the topography of the city and its vicinity, with minute details of the great combat which he himself had witnessed. Leipzig is a curious compound of the modern and the antique—one side being new and the other old. But in every street, bustle and business went on, while on every countenance thought and reflection were so visibly painted that one would suppose the whole of the books that came to the two fairs were studied by the inhabitants. The demolition of the fortifications has secured the Leipzigers two things—the presence of healthful walks, and the absence of bloody sieges—blessings and curses which the Parisians seem neither to desire nor dread. Cities should never be converted into fortresses. The extent of the works and the number of the people are causes of weakness and not strength. A fortress should only contain soldiers, who can lay in provisions against long investment, and on whom, not on citizens, the horrors of war should fall.

I have said that this city is the cradle of literature. No biblio-parturient author in Germany would think of being confined, and delivered of his bantling of the brain, without the aid of a Leipzig accoucheur. Whether his cerebro-gestation may have lasted nine months, or, as Horace directs—as many years—

“Nonum prematur in annum,”

Mr. Brockhaus, or some of his obstetrical brethren in Leipzig, must usher the “nouveau né” into light.

But I have also said that Leipzig is the grave as well as the cradle of literature, or rather of its authors. At every fair there is a number of fairies on the look out for every promising birth, which is immediately kidnapped—wrested from its lawful parents—and sold in distant markets! In other words:—whenever a work of merit, or apparent merit, appears in the Leipzig fair, it is pounced upon by literary sharks and vultures from Frankfort, Wirtemburg, and other places, and instantly reprinted for the benefit of those who have gone to no outlay in brains or money! It is in vain that authors and publishers complain. Theformerare told that, although they have pocketed nothing by their long literary toil, they have earned reputation, which is greatly superior to sordid gold; while thepublishers are laughed at for their foolish speculations! Hence it is, that authors of the most splendid talents and universal renown, are often forced to publish by subscription—a mode that would damn, or at least, degrade them in the eyes of a British public. It may be said that—

“All partial ill is universal good,”

and that, though authors and booksellers are defrauded, the public are gainers. But private industry is as deserving of protection as private property—and there can be no doubt that many men of great talent and learning are discouraged by these piracies, and deterred from embarking in literary labours. This uncertainty too prevents all liberal outlay on paper and type, both of which are disgracefully bad in Germany.

Leipzig is not without interesting associations and reminiscences. But some of the historical are too remote—some too recent—to be dwelt on here. The poetical are too extravagant—and the literary too mystified for much notice in this place. Yet we cannot bid adieu to this cradle and grave of literature, without a passing thought on two of its magnates—Gottsched and Klopstock—theformer, the father of modern German learning—thelatter, the Goliath of the same. Gottsched was born to be a great man—for his stature was such that he abandoned, through pure modesty, his native land, and took refuge in Leipzig, lest he should be promoted to the rank of a grenadier in the army of Frederick the Great. There he claimed the character of an universal genius, acting, at once, the philosopher, grammarian, critic and poet. But his body was bigger than his brains, and he is now consigned to oblivion—perhaps unjustly so. His language then (1740-60) was just emerging from barbarism. It was a period of transition, and shewed no signs of vigorous life. “He introduced a more cultivated style—attacked pedantic extremes—and excited useful controversy.”

Passing over Schlegel, Gellert, and other literary lions of Leipzig, we must bear in mind that it was from this mart of learning that the great Klopstock, like a huge gymnatus electricus, caused Europe to vibrate by the birth of his Messiah. “It roused all Germany from Leipzig to its circumference; and Bodmer, from the valleys of Switzerland, hailed its author as the morning-star of a new æra.”

He must be a stoic, or something more, who can stand on this time-worn tower, without recalling to mind those stupendous events which occurred a quarter of a century ago, around the base of the building. No event, ancient or modern, can at all compare with the battles around Leipzig, in Oct. 1814: whether we look to the magnitude of the armies—the discipline, valour, and enthusiasm of the men—the talents and skill of the commanders—or the momentous object for which they fought. Six crowned heads—threeEmperors and three Kings—were present at these terrific conflicts, and witnessed the carnage and havoc amongfive hundred thousandsoldiers engaged for several days and nights in mortal combat!! This was not the undisciplined rabble, or the effeminate retinue of an Oriental despot, crossing the Hellespont in pride and ignorance; but veterans from every country between the mountains of Norway and the mouths of the Danube—between the Atlantic on the West and Siberia in the East. These battles were not for mere victory, or to decide some political quarrel between two or more states. No. It was for the very existence of sceptres—for the independence or subjugation of every empire and kingdom in Continental Europe. The struggle was between the oppressor and the oppressed—between Napoleon the aggressor, and the allied Sovereigns, as defenders of their crowns, hearths, and altars. The one army had the disgrace of a hundred defeats to obliterate and avenge—the other the laurels of a hundred victories to preserve and sustain. The French fought for the glory of their country, or rather of their Emperor, and the conquest of Europe—the Allies, for the liberation of their soil from thraldom, and the repulsion, if not the deposition, of a tyrant invader.

Such a prodigious accumulation and concentration of martial hosts,—excited, agitated, and impelled by the fiercer passions of our nature—by ambition, hatred, and revenge—portended the approach of some great crisis in the affairs of the world. The feeling on both sides was, evidently, “aut Cæsar aut nullus.” The grand crisis was indeed at hand. The benignantStarof Peace and Justice was about to rise, in splendour, from the East;—while the malignantMeteor of War, that had scattered, for twenty years, plague, pestilence and famine over a groaning world, was about to descend from its bad eminence, and be extinguished for ever in the Atlantic surge.

Napoleon, with all his strength of mind, was superstitious; having some peculiar notions about fate, and destiny, and stars and fortune—as though these imaginary beings had any power to control the laws of Nature, or interfere between cause and effect, whether in the moral or physical world.

It is not improbable that, when, in the night of the 15th October, Napoleon saw three “death-rockets” rise from the southern horizon, streaming their pale but brilliant light high through the Heavens—and, when, immediately afterwards, he beheld four blood-red meteors springing up far far to the northward, indicating too plainly that the signal from the grand Austro-Russian army in the South was answered by the Swedo-Prussian in the North, his moral courage may have experienced a momentary depression, and his superstition an alarm! There was little time, however, for reflection. Action, action was soon required. At the dawn of day the Austro-Russian army attacked the whole southern front of the French position with great fury but no success. Six desperate attemptswere reiterated, one after the other—but all failed! This was discouraging enough—worse remained behind. The moment of exhaustion among the allied troops was seized upon by Napoleon, who, by one gigantic effort, pierced and penetrated the very centre of the allied line, while Murat, Maubourg, and Kellerman, dashed through the gap with the whole of the cavalry! At this moment of frightful peril, when the torrent of French troops was pouring through the fatal breach with irresistible impetuosity, shouting and exulting in the successful exploit,Alexandercalled to his faithful Cossack guards, and pointing to the column of French cavalry that was thundering forward in the rear of the allies, addressed a few, and but a few words to them—probably not dissimilar from those of our own poet, at another terrific combat—

——on ye brave,Who rush to glory or the grave—Wave, Cossacks! all your banners wave!And charge with all your chivalry!

——on ye brave,

Who rush to glory or the grave—

Wave, Cossacks! all your banners wave!

And charge with all your chivalry!

The valorous Pulk right well fulfilled the emperor’s order. The “furious Huns” sprang, like tigers, on the “fiery Franks,” and not only charged and checked the headlong torrent, but rolled back the dense mass of cavalry at the point of their spears, with destructive carnage, through the opening by which it had penetrated the Austro-Russian line. Thus, at the moment when all appeared lost for the allies, a handful of semi-savages from the banks of the Don overwhelmed the finest body of French horse that ever paraded on the banks of the Seine—and that with the King of Naples at its head!

After this rebuff, the fickle goddess forsook her favourite child! The assailing armies hemmed in, closer and closer, the contracting circles of Napoleon’s troops, and after days of ineffectual struggles to revive a sinking cause, the hero of a hundred victories was obliged to sue for an armistice! No answer being returned, the mortified emperor prepared for retreat. But even here Fortune turned her back on him. The Saxon troops threw off their allegiance, and even fired on their former companions in arms, while endeavouring to extricate themselves from the western gate of Leipzig! The only bridge, too, by which they could escape, was blown up by mistake, while twenty-five thousand Frenchmen were left prisoners on the other side! Napoleon with difficulty reached the western bank of the Estler—Poniatouski was drowned in that muddy ditch—and a mere wreck of the Gallic army reached the Rhine. From that day, the star of Napoleon descended till its light was quenched for ever in the western wave! Of all the auxiliaries and mercenaries which various passions, propensities, necessities, or interests had attracted round the standard of the victorious emperor,one onlyremained true to its trust in the memorable retreat from Leipzig! Italians, Bavarians, Saxons, Swedes—

“All, all forsook the friendless guilty mind,But faithful Poland lingered still behind.”

“All, all forsook the friendless guilty mind,

But faithful Poland lingered still behind.”

It may not require any great fortitude to meet the scowl or scorn of our enemy, whether conqueror or conquered; but he must have nerves of iron who can look in the face offriend betrayed. The sight of the gallant and deceived Poles, bearing nobly the hardships and miseries of a disastrous flight, might have wrung tears of remorse from Napoleon’s eyes. But he had no heart. Egotism was the nutriment on which even his ambition fed. What said he, when viewing the wretched remains of his army when it halted at Erfurt, on the 23d of October? “They are a set of scoundrels, who are going to the devil.” Retributive justice ordained thathe himselfshould not be far behind them!

The Tower of the Observatory stands close to the Estler and the scene of the dreadful evacuation of the town, the death of Poniatouski, and the blowing up of the bridge. It also commands a view of most of the theatres of operations during the successive battles, besides an excellent bird’s-eye view of the town itself. No one should fail to visit this spot, and recall the mighty events which occurred around it.

A good railroad whisks us along, through monotonous corn-fields, from Leipzig to Magdeburg, in three or four hours. This is the strongest fortification (always excepting Kœnigstein) on the Elbe—and contains more than fifty-thousand people, garrison and all. It is, or ratherwas, in Saxony; but, thanks to the auspices of Napoleon, in favour of his pet of Dresden, it is now Prussian, and likely to be long so. It is of immense extent, and would require thirty or forty thousand men to defend it—consequently double that number to invest it. As all great virtues are assailed by virulent abuse, so all strong cities are honoured with long sieges. The history of Magdeburg should be printed and posted on the gates of Paris. It has had its ups and downs in its day. It was besieged many a time, and sometimes taken. Although it repulsed the famous Count Wallenstein, in the thirty years’ war, it fell, after two years’ siege, before the magnanimous Tilley (1631), who sacked the city; but in his humanity, spared the whole of the inhabitants—exceptthirty thousand, whom he massacred, without distinction of age or sex!! These are among the “splendid miseries” to which fortified towns and cities have been entitled, time immemorial—from the days of Alexander andTitus, to those of Napoleon and Wellington—from the sacred heights of Solyma, to the sandy plains of Haerlem! This doubtful glory—this dangerous pre-eminence, appears to be the height of a great people’s ambition—though it is probable that a nation’s strength has more in its moral courage and physical energies, than in dead walls and deep ditches.

A steamer starts at five o’clock every morning from Magdeburg to Hamburg, and when the Elbe is not very low, the passage may be performed in one day. But fortunately, or unfortunately, we had not had a wet day, or hardly a cloud in the sky, from the day we left London, till our return to that metropolis, and therefore the river was so shallow, that we were forty-eight hours on the voyage. There never was a vessel that had a greater partiality for the ground than ours—and when once her keel and the sand came in contact, it was as difficult to separate them as to disengage two furious mastiffs joined in mortal combat. Our captain, too, had a singular method of loosening his vessel from her hold on the shoal. Instead of carrying out an anchor astern, and dragging her off in that direction, as we drag dogs from one another by their tails, he invariably took the anchor out a-head, and after prizing the vessel as far forward on the bank as possible, he then tried the retrogressive plan, and, of course, succeeded, though sometimes after two or three hours’ delay. At length we came to a dead stop—for there was not three feet water in any part of the river; so we were obliged to shift into another steamer, “below bar” and jogged along, as above the barrier, but more of our time passed aground than afloat. However, we had a very pleasant society on board—people from various countries—very good table-d’hôte—but, as the weather was fine, and the berths close and crowded, I picked out the softest plank I could find on deck, and slept in the open air, during our descent of the Elbe. There is little or no improvement of the scenery between Dresden and the mouth of the river. The Elbe pays a heavy fine in the shape of monotony for its short but romantic route through Saxon Switzerland!

From the muddy wharves and quays, we scramble up through steep streets, every second house having an inscription, or rather an advertisement in English on its walls or over the door Of the Babel tongues that salute the ear in every part of this city, the English seems to hold the next rank to German and Dutch. Whether it was from the lowness of the Elbe, and the long drought, I know not, but the canals that penetrate far up several of the streets, appeared abominably filthy and malodorous. Three-fourths indeed of their bottoms were bare of water, and only exhibited reeking mud, well impregnated with all kinds of animal and vegetable debris, and admirably calculated to spread pestilential disorders through the city.

At length we got to what might be termed “the West End,” though it is here the North or North-East quarter, and the scene is entirely changed. We find ourselves, all at once, on the borders of a spacious lake, which is narrowed in the middle, and spanned there by a bridge, exhibiting on its surface numerous pleasure-boats, and on its banks a succession of handsomebuildings. Shaded walks and terraces are constructed along the shores, so that these lakes (for they may be considered as two formed by a bridge) really present a most refreshing picture to the eye in Summer, and furnish a magnificent skating-plain in Winter. The levelled fortifications are now converted into superb and extensive promenades, gardens, and shrubberies, exhibiting a pleasing contrast to the endless batteries, fosses, and bastions of Magdeburg and other fortified towns. No city or town on the Continent, that I have seen, presents anything like thebustleofbusinessthat is going forward in every street of Hamburg. Leipzig is nothing to it, since it wants all the elements and materiel of maritime commerce. The great hotels face the lake (which, by the bye, is a monstrous dam formed by a dribbling stream, the Alster) and theSalles-a-Mangerthere, shew us that we are almost clean out of Germany, and nearly in the heart of old England. The table-d’hôte is at four o’clock, where good substantial joints and dishes dance merrily round the table, and are eagerly demolished by stomachs sharply whetted on the exchange, the bureaus, warehouses, and shops of this most singular entrepôt of European merchandize; The Hamburghers and Leipzigers appear to belong to the class of ruminating animals, who flock to the table-d’hôte for the purpose of swallowing, or rather bolting their dinners, dispensing entirely with the process of mastication, and leaving the triple functions of rumination, digestion, and calculation to go on simultaneously, not successively, by which many hours of valuable time are daily gained for the dispatch of business. I will not maintain that this bolting system, followed by the hard labour of two important organs, the head and the stomach, at one and the same time, is equally as well calculated for the preservation of health as for the accumulation of wealth; but probably it is not more insalubrious than the ennui, the inertion, the eternal pipe, and the poisonous dishes of the noncommercial Germans in general.

It is upon the same principle of economy of time, and division of labour, that the Hamburghers hire professed mourners to weep and wail over their deceased relatives. By this ingenious procedure the business of the living is not interrupted by the departure of the dead—perhaps not even on—

The first dull day of nothingness—The last of suffering and distress!

The first dull day of nothingness—

The last of suffering and distress!

When the Hamburghers levelled their fortifications to the ground, they took care to leave certain portals or barriers standing, by which they might be enabled to levy contributions on—“the stranger within their gates,” as well as on those who are outside. The nocturnal tax on ingress and egress increases with every hour after sunset, and the bustle and confusion occasioned by the embarkations and debarkations of steam-travellers with their luggage, baffle all description. The drowskies and their cads, the porters and their wads, the janitors, the police, and the watermen—alljumbled in the darkness of the night about the water-gate of the city—all vociferating in the most discordant jargon; but all united in the strictest harmony of action, as to one operation—the patriotic endeavour to empty the passengers’ purses of every stray mark that might be encumbering their pockets—such a scene is not easily delineated, nor will it be forgotten!

A good steamer, fair weather, and a pleasant company, rendered a forty-eight hours’ run to modern Babylon an agreeable variety in the chequered scenes of a long tour.

Having now brought my various perambulations (at various times) through Germany to a close, it might be thought possible that a traveller could form some definite idea—or draw some distinctive character of the people themselves. This is more easy in theory than in practice. If an intelligent Japanese were conveyed through the air to Connaught or Kerry, and dropped there for a month, to observe the manners, habits, and character of the inhabitants:—if he were thence deposited in Yorkshire, for an equal time—then among the mountains of Wales—and finally in the Highlands of Scotland: and if, after all this, “he returned to the place from whence he came,” and was asked for some characteristic sketch of the British nation, he would be not a little puzzled. In the first place, he would assert that he had visited four nations, differing as much from each other as the shamrock differs from the rose, or the thistle from the leek. They differed in appearance, language, dress, manners, diet, drink, avocations—soil—climate—and, for aught he knew, in religious creeds. If pressed for some one characteristic common to all, he might be tempted to reply that the only one thing in which they all agreed was—to eat potatoes. However varied were the other component parts of their food, they allate potatoes. Now if, within the narrow boundary of the British Isles, we find such diversity among their inhabitants, what may we expect in that huge democracy of autocracies that stretches from the Baltic to the Adriatic—from the banks of the Rhine to the confines of the Russ—which extends over a surface of fifty thousand square miles—bears a population of 38 millions of souls—and, what is still more remarkable, sustains a weight of 38 sovereignties, of all shapes and sizes, from Imperial Austria, of 12,000 square miles, down to the principality of Lichtenstein, covering the enormous area often or eleven! Throughout these vast and varied territories, there is diffused all the varieties of physical organization, moral temperament, and intellectual capacity, characteristic of the great European family. And yet there is a certain degree of family likeness in these 38 sovereignties, that can hardly be mistaken.

——Facies non omnibus una,Nec diversa tamen.——

——Facies non omnibus una,

Nec diversa tamen.——

1.Physiognomy.—The large head, the square face, the blue eyes, the honest countenance, the solemn gait, the modest mein, and the punctilious manners of the German, are everywhere conspicuous.

2.The Language.—This, it must be confessed, is grating enough to the ear; but it is far more disagreeable to the eye! When will Germany discard that barbarous, or at least Gothic system of hieroglyphics, by which bad paper is disfigured by worse type! There is something so singular, not to say startling, in the German language, that if a mummy who had slept in one of the Pyramids since the days of Sesostris were to awake among a mixed company of antiquarian unrollers, the German tongue would surely be the first to tickle its withered ears.

3.Ideology.—The Germans are great dreamers—magnificent dreamers. The Italian may imagine, the Frenchmen invent, the Spaniard may ruminate, and the Dutchman may calculate; but it is the German who candreamwhile wide awake. A German will dream you a dream, as long (to use a nautical phrase) as the main-top-bow-line; or rather as an epic poem, and as full of reality as the latter.

4. If the four British races were unanimous only in one thing—the eating of potatoes;—the 38 sovereignties beat them in this respect. All ranks and classes smoke tobacco—and both sexes devour sour-krout, grease, and vinegar.

5. ThePatienceof the German is proverbial. He is patient in politics, affliction, adversity—and, what is still more commendable, inprosperity. Hence he wins and loses at the gaming-table with more equanimity than any other man.

6. InReligion, Germany presents nearly as many creeds as principalities. These, however, shoot forth from the Reformed Church. Popery is too poor a soil for the growth of “heresies and schisms.” It will not bear a plurality of faiths. If Catholicism be not the true belief, we must admit that Catholics are the true believers. Of all the deviations from the Protestant Church in Germany,RationalismandScepticismare the mostprominent and dangerous. Speaking of the latter, Dr. Hawkins observes:—“We must anticipate, however reluctantly, that, not only in Germany, but in some other parts of Europe, the heaviest calamity impending over the whole fabric of society is the lengthening stride of bold Scepticism.” And, after describing the tenets of theRationists, the same authority remarks:—“They consequently disclose to us the frightful fact, that all the essential doctrines of Christianity are unreservedly rejected.” A question might here be asked: is this widespreading state of no belief—of no religion—preferable to Catholicism, mixed up with a few superstitions and errors?

We hear constant complaints that Popery is on the increase. How can it be otherwise? Where and when wasunionnot a source of strength, anddivisionof weakness? The ProtestantHighChurch is like a brilliant meteor shooting through the air in splendour and brightness; but constantly detaching from its own body some vital elements of its own existence. The Catholic Church, on the other hand, is like a snow-ball rolling along the ground, with apparent humility, a dense and cohesive mass, alike tenacious of that which it possesses, and attractive of that which falls in its way.[93]

7.Affability.—I have before remarked, and it is remarked by all travellers, that, in no part of Europe or the world, are affability, amenity, and suavity of manners, in social intercourse, more conspicuous among all classes, orders, genera, and species of society, than in Germany; or a more complete absence of all prominent or repulsive distinction of ranks. I endeavoured to account for this by education, habit, and example. But there is one other cause adduced by Dr. Hawkins, which I overlooked—the numerous sovereignties and states into which Germany is divided, the very inter-collisions of which tend to preserve a smoother surface, and a greater equilibrium of urbanity, than under one great monarchy, or even republic. I shall attempt to illustrate this moral phenomenon by a physical one. Let us take two small and tranquil lakes, one to represent England, and the other Germany. Let a large stone be dropped into the centre of theformer, and we shall quickly observe a series of waves or undulations, rolling in excentric circles to the remotest edges of the water, in every direction—all parallel, all close to each other, but never touching or mingling. This exactly represents the gradations of rank, classes, professions, andavocations in England. They diverge from the central monarchy in parallel lines down to the peasant—always in close approximation; but never touching or amalgamating.

Into the other lake, let 38 stones, of various shapes and sizes (corresponding with the 38 sovereignties) be precipitated in as many different parts of the glassy mirror. What shall we see? Not the series of distinct waves rolling from centre to circumference—but a chequered surface where one undulation is broken, crossed, or neutralized by another, and where large or definite circles of waves are nowhere perceptible. The application of this simile to German society requires no explanation.

8.Education.—It is acknowledged that, in no other country is education so cheaply and amply provided as in Germany. It is remarked by Dr. Hawkins, that theresultsof education in Germany and in England, are very different. In theformer, the student is almost entirely engrossed by the physical and practical sciences—whilst the English one is very much occupied with theology, morality, classics, poetry, and rhetoric. “Yet in the end, the Englishman becomes most practical, and the German the most theoretical and sentimental.” With all due deference to Dr. Hawkins, I doubt or rather deny the fact, that the practicaleducationof the German renders him theoretical: or that the theoreticaleducationof the Englishman makes him practical. Will Dr. H. maintain that a good education in the physical and practical sciences would convert an Englishman into a theorist or sentimentalist? No, it would not. It is not the education, but the different circumstances in which the two people are placed, after leaving the schools, that produce the contrast noticed by Dr. Hawkins. A complaint is made that this facility of education leads to surplus candidates for professional honours; and the German governments endeavour to divert the aspirants into other channels than the learned professions. But where is therenotthis surplus? In England, where education is expensive enough, the ranks of the church, bar, and medicine, are crowded to suffocation. Two causes of this operate in Germany. The cheapness of education—and the cheapness of living afterwards.—Two or three in England—the redundancy of population, and the choaking up of the war-channels, those waste-pipes and safety-valves of society. To these may be added the restless ambition of the shopocracy to push some of their sons into the carriage from behind the counter.

A considerable portion of the English consider that education (among the lower classes) without a particular creed, is worse than no education at all. The real, though not the acknowledged meaning of this is, that education, or knowledge, is, in the abstract, orper se, an evil rather than a good. It would be much better to openly and candidly maintain this doctrine at once, than mystify it under the term “religious instruction,” that is, instruction combined with aparticularcreed. An ingenious casuistmight easily shew—perhaps prove—the truth of the anti-education doctrine. Beginning with the Garden of Eden, he might quote Scripture that knowledge first

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