6

fallen lamentably short of the expected degree of excellence, in the kindred walk of fiction. The dramatic fame of the author of 'Tom Jones' rests on the mock tragedy of Tom Thumb;' and so long as the author of 'Gil Blas' was only known as a playwright, no one saw any incongruity in the joke placed by Piron in the mouth of Punchinello :- Pourquoi le fol de temps en temps ne diroit-il pas de bonnes choses, puisque le sage (Le Sage) de temps en temps dit de si mauvaises ?'

It is from the apex of the pyramid that men calculate its height, and the altitude of genius must be taken where it has attained its culminating point. Let those who wish to appreciate Miss Edgeworth, to derive the greatest amount of refining and elevating enjoyment from her works, skip the prefaces, short as they arenever think of the moral, excellent as it may be-be not over-critical touching the management of the story, but give themselves up to the charm of the dialogue, the scene-painting, the delineation and development of character, the happy blending of pathos and humour with the sobriety of truth. Let them do this, and they will cease to wonder at the proud position awarded to her by the dispassionate judgment of her most eminent contemporaries.

287

THE COUNTESS HAHN-HAHN.

[FROM THE EDINBURGH REVIEW, JAN. 1844.]

1. Aus der Gesellschaft, Novelle. Von (From 'Society,' a Novel, by) IDA, Gräfin (Countess) HAHN-HAHN. 8vo. Berlin 1838.

2. Der Rechte (The Right One). Von IDA, Gräfin HAHNHAHN. 8vo. Berlin: 1839.

3. Gräfin Faustine. Von IDA, Gräfin HAHN-HAHN. 8vo. Berlin 1840.

4. Ulrich: Von IDA, Gräfin HAHN-HAHN. 2 vols. 8vo. Berlin 1841.

5. Sigismund Forster. Von IDA, Gräfin HAHN-HAHN. 8vo. Berlin 1843.

6. Cecil. Von IDA, Gräfin HAHN-HAHN. 2 vols. 8vo. Berlin 1843.

Ir is a remarkable fact, that, out of the fourteen or fifteen thousand living authors of Germany, not one (if we except Tieck, who belongs to the last generation) has obtained anything approaching to an European reputation, or given decided proofs of originality, as a novelist. Rich in historians, fertile in critics, abounding in metaphysicians, and overflowing with thinkers, or gentlemen who think that they are thinking, the whole Confederation has proved, during the last quarter

of a century, utterly unable to produce a prose writer of fiction, who does not turn out, on nice inspection, to be an imitator;-to have belonged, from his or her first conception, to some one of the established schools, historical, metaphysical, or romantic; and kept constantly though unconsciously in mind, some one of the great masters or masterpieces-in nine cases out of ten Scott or Goethe-Wilhelm Meister' or 'Waverley.' At last, however, we have found one who draws exclusively on her own resources, rises proudly superior to authority, holds on her course in entire disregard or forgetfulness as well of the examples set by her predecessors as of the rules laid down by her contemporaries; and, as may be guessed, is utterly unlike all or any of her countrymen or countrywomen, who, to our knowledge, have hitherto risked themselves in print.

Ida, Countess Hahn-Hahn, is, both by birth and marriage, a member of the Mecklenburg family of Hahn, which begins with a distinguished founder in the dark ages and boasts nine or ten centuries of unsullied nobility. When very young, she married her cousin, but was divorced soon afterwards, on her own application, on the ground of alleged infidelity on the part of the husband. She has lived a good deal in most of the German capitals-mixing chiefly with the class to which she naturally belongs; and she has visited most of the principal countries of Europe, in company with the attached friend to whom Faustine' is dedicated. She has one child, a girl of fifteen or sixteen. She herself is about five-and-thirty, or a little more. Two or three years ago she had the misfortune to lose an eye,

through (as she asserts in her Reisebriefe') the ignorance or inattention of the operator. The leading events of her life are mentioned, because her style of thought is palpably modified by them; and because her individuality, so to speak, is constantly presented to the mind of the reader, though without the ordinary repelling effect of egotism.

6

Madame Hahn-Hahn is already the author of six novels, three books of travels, and a little dramatic poem which she is pleased to call an Arabesque.' It is our present purpose to consider her exclusively as a novelist; but we must begin by apologising for the

term.

6

Towards the end of her second work, she complains that the word novelle was added by the publisher, without her leave, to the title-page of her first. As I write no novels, I do not choose to usurp the title, and this book must try to make its way without it. I hope it will not be valued the less on that account, for I do not make the disclaimer out of modesty.' If this be so, we are unable to guess why she disclaims at all; for the only peculiarity which distinguishes such a book as 'Aus der Gesellschaft,' or 'Der Rechte,' from the ordinary run of novels (always excepting their intrinsic merit), is the comparative carelessness of the writer regarding plot, which is hardly a subject of self-congratulation. But we will not quarrel with the lady about a word; there strikes us to be as much action (unity of action, too) and as studied, careful, complete development of character in her best fictions, as in many whose title to be called novels no one ever dreamed of VOL. I.

U

questioning; but undoubtedly it will be most favourable to her, and equally agreeable to us, to consider them as a series of studies on the feelings; or a succession of characters and situations illustrative of the great problems of domestic life-its pains, pleasures, mutability, discontent-the waywardness of the affections, the inconstancy of the imagination, the insufficiency of all things human to satisfy the eternal cravings of the heart. Considered in this point of view, it would be difficult to form an undue estimate of their merit; so well chosen, and at the same time so varied, are both scenes and actors. In one of her single volume books, there are seldom less than four or five sets of people making each other happy or miserable, yet no two of them bring about the proposed result in the same manner. As for heroes and heroines, she can hardly be said to have any; and she has so little turn for melodramatic display, that it is only when the story is drawing to a conclusion, and some show of unity is imperatively required, that she places her men and women in marked contrast, or attempts to throw them into groups. They talk more than they act, and feel more than they talk; for her strength consists in tracing the influence of time, place, and circumstance upon the heart. She delights to combat the notion that the affections can be subjected to the will, and is never more at home than when expounding the rationale of change, or suggesting excuses for inconstancy.

The scenes are laid in the higher orders of society, and almost all her characters, with the exception of a stray artist or so, are taken from them. We have heard