copper-plate to each, even though it did not extend beyond one octavo page. Four sheets were thus finished off in the greatest haste, when he brought them to me with an air of extreme exultation; and indeed, as to what concerned outward shew, he had some reason to exult.

But how much was I shocked, when on carefully examining their intrinsic worth, led perhaps to investigate this the more minutely from the splendour of their external appearance, I could not but be sensible that not one rose above mediocrity! I became immediately convinced that I had no talent for this species of writing, and I therefore resolved not to prosecute a plan by which I should only expose myself; so, paying the publisher all that he had lavished in these expensive decorations, the work was consigned to eternal oblivion.

Oh ye! who have so often, and so bitterly reproached me with vanity, now behold I give you the lie. The re-purchase of my fables cost me many hundred roubles, but my self-love never breathed a single sigh over their destruction.

I come now to the period of my life that I passed at Revel. During the first summer of my residence there, I spent the greatest part of every day in the delicious shady walks belonging to the castle of Catherinenthal, and read more than I wrote. In the autumn, I visited for the first time the dismal and dreary environs of Kiekel, abounding with forests and morasses. Yet, through the enchanting smiles of affection, and the genial warmth of friendship, even this miserable country was transformed into a paradise.

Ye worthy! ye excellent people among whom I then lived in your circle I learned that mortal man may be far happier in such a spot, though surrounded by the growling of bears, and the howling of wolves, than in the midst of polished society, environed by the honied tongues of hypocrites and flatterers. Your

forests were inhabited by beasts of prey, but calumny dwelt not in their dens; frogs and toads croaked in your morasses, but envy had not reared her altar in the midst of them. The lime trees indeed, assumed not their lovely verdure till the spring was far advanced, and the roses were even more tardy in unfolding their sweets, but innocence and joy were perennial plants in your gardens. The soil was

sparing of its fruits, but benevolence needs not abundance! A groschen* is a rich present when moistened with the tear of sympathy, and a louis-d'or has no value without it. Oh fleeting time! scatter, if thou wilt, the rest of these pages to the winds of heaven, only let this one-this on which I now inscribe the beloved names of Frederick and Sophia Helena Rose -let this one remain untouched! for thou wouldst snatch it from the altar of virtue and affection, on which I place it as an offering of gratitude.

Neither did the Parnassian maids refuse to embellish this forest. The two first dramas I ever wrote, which I consider as possessing some degree of real merit, The Hermit of Formentera,' and 'Adelaide of Wulfingen,' were written at Kiekel. The former we played among ourselves, and this private performance revived my passion for the stage with even increased violence. To that passion Revel was indebted for the institution of an excellent private theatre, which produced both actors and actresses of no common talents. It was opened with a comedy of mine, called 'Every Fool has his Cap.' As a true German, I could not yet wholly shake off my propensity to imitation; and this piece had much the same degree of resemblance to Molière's Avare, as a sugar figure has to those made in biscuit at Dresden. For this reason, I keep it snug in my drawer with a variety of other papers.

• A groschen is a small coin, worth about two-pence English money.

F

I cannot now recollect through what casualty I first conceived the idea of writing the history of Henry the Lion, Duke of Brunswick;' a hero, whose various and in many respects romantic fate, always interested me extremely. On a journey which I took through a part of Germany, in the year 1785, among other places I visited Wolfenbüttel and Hanover. With a view to my intended work, I carefully searched the libraries of those places, rummaging over old chronicles and legends for many weeks together, writing and re-writing, till at length I might venture to assert that I was in possession of a very competent store of materials for my undertaking. I had even gone so far as absolutely to have prepared some detached parts of the history, when two works appearing nearly together, the one historical, the other a sort of romance, in both of which duke Henry was one of the most conspicuous personages, my plan was entirely laid aside.

I now once more enlisted among the corps of journalists, by the publication of a monthly work for the benefit of the territory where I then resided. To this I affixed the whimsical title, 'For the Mind and Heart.' It was carried on for a year, but did not receive suffi. cient support to encourage the prosecuting it farther. Some pieces written for this work are published in the four volumes of my miscellaneous writings.

Another, and much more important idea, soon after for awhile occupied my whole attention. I wanted to write an ample treatise upon The Honour and Dishonour, the Fame, both temporal and posthumous, of all Times and all Nations.'

I consider it as some merit ever to have projected so grand a work, even though I found my powers not equal to the carrying of it into execution. The idea of it was, besides, productive of real advantage to me in other respects. It served to exercise my talents, to give me more just conceptions of my own powers, and was the occasion of my reading many a historical

and philosophical work, which perhaps otherwise had never engaged my attention. In short, the collecting of materials for it, was the source of abundant instruction to my mind. Never, therefore, shall I repent the unwearied diligence with which this idea was for awhile pursued, nor the numberless hours spent upon it. The only thing I repent is, that I was induced sometime after to print, though not in its original form, a part of the work, which treated of Nobility. But more on this subject hereafter.

In the autumn of 1787, I was first seized with an illness, which for several years held me suspended between life and death, and what is perhaps still more to be deprecated than death itself, the apprehension of sinking into a confirmed melancholy, It was during the height of this disorder that I wrote Misanthropy and Repentance,' and 'The Indians in England.' These two pieces were finished in the space of not more than eight or nine weeks. Never, either before or since, did I feel such a rapid flow of ideas and imagery as during that period; and I believe it to be undeniable that by some kinds of illness, particularly those in which the irritation of the nerves is increased, the powers of the mind are abundantly elevated, as diseased muscles alone produce pearls.

In the year 1789, I wrote The Virgin of the Sun,' The Natural Son,' and Brother Maurice the Humourist.' I also proceeded in the collection of my miscellaneous writings. The little romance of The Dangerous Wager,' was another production of the same year. It was occasioned by a friendly joke, and if many a hypocritical shoulder be shrugged, or many a hypocritical eye be rolled at it, it is yet by no means contemptible, as the effusion of a sportive moment. Many very absurd things have been said and written upon the subject of Misanthropy and Repentance. Among other accusations brought against me, it has been urged that I have not administered strict poetical justice, in granting unqualified pardon to

Eulalia, and restoring so great a criminal to her station in society and to every joy of life. But no one seems to have considered the dreadful punishment she has necessarily incurred from the reflection upon her own misconduct, or to have examined whether any pardon could release her from those reflections, and whether a woman with such a mind, labouring under the pressure of a sullied conscience, could ever be happy again. To Ziegler alone do these ideas appear at all to have suggested themselves; yet his view of the subject is extremely perverted, and by taking the unjustifiable liberty of recalling Eulalia's seducer again to life, he has wholly frustrated the moral in view. I therefore wrote The Noble Lie,' from which, if I have again brought forward a woman deviating from chastity, a subject on which the impure imaginations of the critics delight to dwell, I am confident as fine a moral may be deduced as ever was preached from the pulpit, or represented upon the stage.

As an interesting anecdote never can be ill-timed, I trust I may be allowed here to introduce one, related to me by a person of great credibility, and which, though I cannot undertake to pledge myself for its veracity, I have reason to believe true. At the time when Misanthropy and Repentance' was played very frequently at Vienna, the following squib was one morning found in the emperor Joseph the Second's audience-chamber: "In this place is performed daily, Misanthropy WITHOUT Repentance."" One of the severest, and I am inclined to think, one of the most undeserved sarcasms ever put forth against a person in that exalted station.

At my return from Pyrmont, where I spent some time in the year 1790, I, unluckily for myself, dipped my pen in foreign gall, and wrote some sheets, of which I can truly say that they were, alas! damned to too much renown. On these I have sufficiently explained myself in a periodical publication; and can