Faust with more pleasure in his various peregrinations through the domain of art. During Faust's dark pilgrimage to Inspiration, Mephistopheles is busy at court; in fact he has his hands full; for Jealousy, Vanity, Ambition, are pressing him on all sides for aid, and he longs for the return of his companion to share his labors. The time for the wonderful performance promised to the Emperor approaches. All is in readiness; Mephistopheles and the Astrologer, the one as souffleur, the other as interpreter, occupy their respective places, and Faust, with the help of the magical key, through which he has effected a successful return, lays open to the expectant multitude the treasures of the dead Past. Paris and Helena arise from their vapory grave, and reënact an episode of their lives. The apparitions fill all alike with admiration. Ladies, young and old, courtiers, knights, pages, poets, even the scholar, who for a moment doubted its authenticity, confess the charm it works upon them, and Faust, first of all, is carried away with it. Pygmalion-like, he becomes enamored of his own production, and in his transports, takes even umbrage at the good fortune of Paris, so far as to interrupt the play, and make a wild attempt to run away with Helena himself. The spell is broken: Faust sinks down, overcome by his emotions, and Mephistopheles carries him away. We are The following scene is a most impressive one. carried back into the doctor's old study, and are made strangely sensible of the lapse of time by the forcible images brought before us. All the appurtenances of the dreary abode are moldering into decay. The colored window panes are dimmed with dust and cobwebs, the ink is all dried up, the paper yellow, and in the old fur coat a population of insects have found a home. The bell which Mephistopheles rings has the harsh and shrill tone of thin and rusty iron, and startles us with its sound. The whole scene is highly imaginative, especially the chorus of the destructive insects welcoming their patron Mephisto-Evil, a destroyer also. The bell has aroused Wagner's famulus, who comes creeping along the dusty corrodors to answer the unusual call, and informs us of the pursuits of his master, the former pupil and companion of Faust. Another acquaintance of past days starts up again also: the youth whom Mephistopheles mystified so learnedly when he donned Faust's habit, and played the doctor. But the sprightly Baccalaureate has outgrown, as he says, academic whips, and is not to be imposed on any more. The seeds of skepticism, sown in former years, are bearing their fruits; the young enthusiast believes in nothing except in himself, and denies the absolute existence of everything,-of the very devil before him. We are next introduced into Wagner's laboratory, and have before us another example of the many extravaganzas the human mind runs into; namely, the laborious efforts to solve impossible problems. Wagner was Faust's pupil in the occult sciences; he has prosecuted steadily and earnestly the great search after the philosopher's stone, and succeeds in producing an Homunculus—a phantasy—an impracticability. The little man, shining with an artificial light, is inclosed within a fragile bottle, which alone gives him importance, for, to quote from the original, Thales, in recommending him to Proteus, says: "Ihm fehlt es nicht an geistigen Eigenschaften, He is a good impersonation of the Utopia, which originates in the brain of the solitary student; that is to say, of the student whose philosophy transcends the real, and becomes "Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy." But as everything must have a place in the economy of the universe, there also must be a home for Homunculus. He seeks a sphere of action, and finds it in the Fabelland. Not less significant is the strange condition in which Faust has been left. He is no longer fit for common life, and revels in dreams. From his visit to "The Mothers," he has received a glimpse of a world yet unknown to him, and lies entranced by the power of art. Homunculus, the offspring of phantasy, equally lost to the practical world, sees in the Doctor a congenial traveling companion, and proposes to Faust that they should all visit together poetic Greece. The cloak of Mephistopheles affords Faust and himself an ærial conveyance, and Homunculus is the torch-bearer. Then is unfolded before us the vast panorama of antiquity, with its inexplicable religion, its myths, its poetry, its profound philosophy, its extraordinary beauty! The poet pays it due homage by the ridicule with which he covers Mephistopheles. The poor Devil almost excites our pity; the sorry figure which he makes in this new world, where he finds himself to be a total stranger, and the laughingstock of all around him, is most amusing, and the whole situation is admirably conceived. We rejoice to find that there is one thing wherein the element of evil does not enter-namely, the Beautiful. Every item of this great panoramic display is a study; every one a moral type that affords to the reflective mind food inexhaustible. We wander amidst the wonders of the earth, air, and sea, without ever losing our foothold; we feel that we tread on the sure ground of the real, though intensified and idealized, for the whole conception of the work is imbued with the genius of the author, which incorporates all abstractions, and gives them a poetic life by clothing them in a concrete form. The curious journey of the party ends in the abduction of Homunculus by Proteus and his romantic death or birth, which will forever remain enveloped in the vague suppositions of the reader's fancy, and with Faust's disappearance within the temple of Manto. The third act appears, at first sight, an unpardonable digres sion. The rigid law of the three unities is unmercifully trodden under foot; but we must excuse the emancipating genius of the author in view of the greatness of his subject, too universal to be tied either to time or place. To explain the grand Intermezzo as forming a separate piece, is neither in keeping with what constitutes a whole, nor does justice to the great object we must suppose such a writer as Goethe had in undertaking such a subject. He had undoubtedly in view the regeneration of man through error, that it takes all the multifarious influences of art and nature-influences bad and goodto educate the soul of man. The Intermezzo is then the solemn Andante of the composition-beautiful of itself, yet connected with the whole by ties artistically concealed-Faust still its theme. Helena, with her cortège of Trojan attendants, so Greek in attitude and speech; all that awaits her in her father's house, after her long absence; the introduction of Mephistopheles as Phorkyas, bold of conception as it may seem, and alien to fact, are nevertheless the necessary elements of the Prelude by which the poet invites the attention to the main thought. The realm of imagination is boundless, and the great master poet of England has himself given the example of choosing freely from amidst its infinite resources. In Goethe's Faust, Helena, misled by Mephistopheles, becomes a second time faithless. By the aid of Manto Faust has penetrated into the dark realms where Proserpina is enthroned-into the Dead Past,and pursues diligently the virgin paths of ancient lore, to find that fountain-head so necessary to his happiness; that beauty, which once perceived, he needs must love with rapture; that manifold Helena, that charmed at the same time heroes of distant and various climes. Mephistopheles again lends here his helping hand, and, by his masterly contrivances, brings Faust and Helena into each other's presence. But Helena comes upon Faust unawares. Lynceus, the warden, has failed to recognize and announce her, and is led a prisoner to her feet. This little allegory within an allegory is most gracefully carried through. It seems to symbolize the inefficiency of the corporeal eye to discover beauty at first sight, as it breaks upon us, suddenly often, and without our being able to account for its immediate appearance. After a few preliminaries necessary to advance the wonderful courtship, Faust leads Helena to the throne whereon she is to rule supreme. But the fair Queen most graciously invites him to her side. Great Greece sees in the noble Barbarian one worthy of alliance with herself, and the Romantic wooes and weds the Classic. Euphorion is born-a bold, independent spirit, that calls the whole world his own, and sings prophetically of Liberty won by war. He himself, refusing all earthly ties, unfolds his wings and soars towards the sun. The sacred spirit has returned to its source. He dies to his parents, but lives in the glory above. His mantle and lyre remain in possession of the earth. From the invisible realms wherein he is received, he calls upon his mother, and Helena bids a tender farewell to her Northern lover, and follows her offspring. Her garment and veil dissolve into a cloud, which envelops Faust and carries him out of our sight. Thus does the burning ardor of the enthusiast pass away as soon as he has clasped the object of his love. Faust has reached the third stage to which the true artist has to arrive to become master. In the infancy of art, the artist struggles with matter to express himself, but only with partial success-the material predominates over the spiritual, which is only dimly shadowed forth. This is the symbolic period, and finds its representation in Egyptian sculpture. Faust, therefore, is first seen wandering among the Sphinxes of Egypt. In a higher stage of development, the artist acquires that power over his material, that it becomes a full and adequate expression of his ideaMatter and Spirit are in equipose, so to speak. This is the Classic period, represented by Greek art-Faust is in Helena's presence. In a still more advanced stage, the idea frees itself from the form in which it was enshrined, and comes forth independent of its coefficient-Helena leaving her mortal frame! Euphorion's mantle and lyre have, however, fallen into the hands of Phorkyas, or rather Mephistopheles, who throws out very significant hints as to the use they can be put to, and his own willingness to lend them to such applicants as may be in want of them. In the fourth act we are brought back from the land of fiction and stand again on Terra Firma. Our hero has grown in years and experience. The ardors of youth have settled down into contemplation; his soul is enlarged by his communion |