he but expresses the opinion of all his readers, but expresses it as they could never do; he gives them the eloquence of truth. It must not however be concluded from the foregoing argument that the philosophical poet does no more than dress up common thoughts: this is the process of Calderon and his like, but not of great poets. Those thoughts which have entered the minds of others are not the less original for that; an original thinker is one who thinks for himself, who expresses thoughts which have been discovered by himself, though they may have been discovered by hundreds of other men, and he gives to each of them his own peculiar impress. Poets are original thinkers, consequently they give to common thoughts an individual physiognomy,-an expression which belongs to them only. And this expression often rescues from oblivion familiar but important truths, calling attention by its splendour to what had been overlooked. "Like moist"ure on the pebble, genius brings out many a vein and many "a tint which escape the idea of common observation, thus "raising to the rank of gems what had been often kicked away "by the hurrying foot of the traveller on the dusty high"road of custom*." This leads us to discover the secret of the vanity of translation. if poetry "n'est qu'une forme," as George Sand truly says, if it is the individual physiognomy of the poet, the peculiar expression which he gives to thoughts that constitutes the charm of poetry, how can this be preserved in translation? Instead of the poet's mind you have the translator's mind as the mirror in which things are reflected. In translating, a man endeavours to give equivalent expressions in his language for those of his original; but although equivalent meanings may be given, equivalent expressions it is impossible to find; because although two nations will agree in the broad meaning of words, they can never agree in the various associations which attach themselves to words. For instance,

"The river glideth at its own sweet will

* Coleridge.

is a beautiful verse; the meaning is obvious enough, common enough; the expression alone constitutes its beauty. How could it be translated? the word "glideth" is neither glisse nor coule: these words represent accurately enough the dictionary meaning, but destroy the poetical meaning. There is no other word in the English language which could be substituted for glideth,-much less in a foreign language. So also "its own sweet will" may be rendered doucement, librement; but it is then no longer poetry. From what has just been said, we not only gather the vanity of poetical translation, but also the reason why celebrated poems appear commonplace in translation. It is usually argued that in a translation the original ideas are preserved, and that from the value of these ideas you can judge of the value of the poem,-a most pernicious sophism! You cannot preserve a poet's ideas unless you also preserve his expressions, for his ideas are pictures. Write

"The river runneth free from all restraint,"

and then see if you have preserved the poet's ideas; no, you have preserved his prose-meaning,-the picture is destroyed. He animates nature in his own poetic way; the translator either substitutes his poetic animation, or else reduces the verse to a statement of the ordinary course of nature, as in the above example. Translate one of Horace's odes, one of Göthe's lyrics, or one of Béranger's songs, and ask the opinion of any critic as to the beauty of the composition; you will then find that what all the world pronounces exquisite in the original no one thinks above commonplace in the translation.

We appear to have been digressing, but have only tacked about to fill our sails with wind and so ride triumphant into port. The positions just laid down, and which we must assume as proved, enable us to settle three points essential to the present inquiry:-1st, Göthe was in nowise bound to solve the problem he stated in Faust.' 2ndly, It is a very philoso phical poem, in spite of the absence of any solution. 3rdly, Those who know it only through translations have no conception whatever of its excellence, have no conception of the ideas it contains, and can neither appreciate its beauty nor its profound wisdom.

The problem of Faust is not to be solved, at least not in the present state of philosophy. In default of Edipus, we must be content with Alexander, and cut the knot we cannot untie: nihil interest quomodo solvantur. Now although Göthe the poet did not untie the knot, Göthe the man showed us how it should be cut. He lived, as we formerly endeavoured to point out, a long laborious life, a wise and happy man,one of the wisest of men; perhaps too one of the happiest. How did he succeed? By confining himself to the knowable and attainable, and never wasting his strength on the unknowable and unattainable. Truth-absolute truth-the secret of the universe, the secret of our existence, is for ever placed beyond the boundaries of human knowledge. All our knowledge is relative; insignificant enough if compared with that which remains unknown, unknowable; but not insignificant to us: on the contrary, very significant to us, sufficient for us, immensely difficult of acquisition. Let us therefore be content with the importance and the difficulty; do not let us contend with immeasurably greater difficulty, and contend for shadows. Let us patiently observe, patiently classify and patiently meditate. We shall not discover Truth, but we shall discover Use. We shall not share with angels a knowledge of the essences of things, but we shall discover, for the benefit of man, the various uses of things; we shall learn the laws which regulate the action of material bodies, and the laws which regulate human development. This is what all wise men do. Great as are our stores of facts, rapid as is the advancement of each science, we are only becoming more familiar with the uses of things; we are making no steps towards the discovery of truth, of the essences of things; nay, it is rather the token of a wise man, in these days, that he renounce altogether the search after truth absolute, contenting himself with truth relative, that he relinquish the vain endeavour to penetrate eternal mysteries, contenting himself with clear intelligible fact and use. Auguste Comte says that this is not only the token of a wise man, but that it is also the inevitable tendency of modern science; and that before long all men, wise or unwise, will see the necessity of conforming to such a tendency.

93

ARTICLE III.

1. Quadro storico-statistico della Serenissima Republica di San Marino del Capitano Oreste Brizi. Firenze, 1842. 8vo.

2. Elogio del Cardinale Giulio Alberoni, scritto dall' Abate Giuseppe Bignami. Piacenza, 1833. 8vo.

THE attention of Europe was first called to the republic of San Marino by two Englishmen, Addison* and Gilliest, whose accounts, although interesting, are neither complete nor correct. To Melchior Delfico we owe a history of the republic, illustrated by authentic documents hitherto inedited‡; and the author of the small history mentioned at the head of this article, has collected many interesting facts; unhappily he has stated them with the pedantic affectation which was to be expected from a man who devotes ten lines of the title-page to setting forth the names of a portion of the obscure academies to which he belongs. We have thought that a condensed account of the history, political constitution and present condition of this, the most ancient and, with one exception§ the smallest, state in Europe, may both amuse and instruct those who take an interest in the carly history and polity of the ancient Greck and Italian republics, upon which this living specimen of an old commonwealth must necessarily throw great light. Connected with the history of San Marino is the latter part of the life of Cardinal Alberoni, a name well known in the political history of Europe during the early part of the last century,-who, after having shown himself a dangerous enemy to our liberties, when at the head of the Spanish ministry, proved a still greater foe to those of the republic

In his 'Remarks on several parts of Italy in the years 1701-1703.'

† His account of San Marino was first published in 1795 (although he visited the place in 1777), among the Anecdotes of some distinguished persons.' The author afterwards inserted it in an enlarged form as an appendix to the second book of his translation of Aristotle's Politics.'

Memorie storiche della Rep. di S. Marino. Milano, 1804; 4to. It has been reprinted.

The principality of Lichtenstein, the inhabitants of which amount to 5800.

of San Marino before he closed his political career, and was equally unsuccessful against both. It is morcover our desire to rectify the erroneous assertions usually relied on respecting this remarkable man.

The republic of San Marino is situated on the Monte Titano*, ten miles from Rimini. It consists of the town itself, placed on the top of the mountain, 794 meters above the level of the Adriatic, and of the Borgo and castles of Serravalle, Montegiardino, Faetano and Fiorentino. The population of the whole certainly does not exceed 7000, and is supposed to be under 6000; the territory is about sixteen square geographical miles. The climate is cold for at least half the year; the soil is poor and not productive enough for the support of its inhabitants, who exchange their excellent wines for corn. They enjoy the reputation of being a frank, manly and in dustrious race, satisfied with their condition; among whom colossal fortunes, abject poverty and utter ignorance, are alike unknown. There are about forty-five priests, twenty-five monks or friars, and twenty-eight nuns. The state is divided into eight parishes, forming part of the dioceses of Montefeltro and Rimini.

These preliminary statistical facts we deem it important to record before we speak of the government of this nation. Our readers will not be surprized to find its origin involved in obscurity, like that of other renowned states. Tradition records, that a stone-mason named Marino† journeyed from Dalmatia to the mountain to work a quarry, which existed as early as the third or fourth century, and that he settled there, at the head of a small society,—partly religious and partly political, not bound to celibacy,-for whom he obtained a grant of the territory, which he bequeathed to them free and independent. Having led a holy life, Marino became famous for miracles, before as well as after death, and finally obtained the honour of canonization‡. His domain did not extend beyond the summit of San Marino, whose history, from its foundation until the 20th of February, 885,

Acer Mons or Titanus of Strabo.

Even the name is not quite certain. Some have called him Mariano, others Martino.

The life of San Marino in the Bollandists deserves perusal.