and moral, the principal object of which is to establish that evil does not come of Ormufd; that the impurity of Ahriman has its origin in himfelf; thus, that that of man is wilful. No. 12. Vadjerguerd, in Zend 8vo. about 250 pages. This word fignifies "that which is explained." It conLifts of prayers that accompany cer tain ceremonies, particularly the cutting of twigs for the Barfsom. The last two works are unique in England. They are Nos. 16, and 18, of the MSS brought to Europe by M. Anquetil du Perron in Zend, Pehlvic and Pazend, relative to the religion and hiftory of the Parfis. (To be concluded in our Next.) ACCOUNT OF THE LITERARY LIFE OF KOTZEBUE. Written by Himself *. As an author, I have experienced a part of the being I now am Rife both good and bad fuccefs, both in a high degree, both frequently un merited. 1 flatter myself that it may be useful to young men defirous of entering upon the flippery career of literature, to read the hiftory of a man, who has not reached the goal indeed for how few ever do reach it!-but who has fo far advanced be fore them in the progress towards it; one who, without ceremony, joins their circle, and relates without difguife when he fell, when he erred, and when he was deceived; where he enjoyed the affiftance of the Nine, and where he miftook the ravings of a Bacchante for the infpiration of the Mufe. Come hither, then, ye inexperienced youths, who have, for the firft time, dipped the tip of your tongue in the honey of Parnaffus, and think it defirable because it is fweet; fit down and listen to me. You fee I am in the vein; my foul is unconftrained, and my lips are opened to confefs with candour when I have been deluded by vanity, and when. my mind has been warmed with the feelings of the true and the beautiful. Rife then! rife before me, ye fai ry phantoms of my happy childhood! In remembrance you now fcarce form and hover round me, ye gentle fhades-Gracious Providence! fuffer once more thofe delightful hours to rife out of the ocean of the past, like a dim mist before my fancy! Seize then the fleeting fhades as they pafs!-Seeft thou there that boy who hangs with rapt attention on his mother's tongue, as fhe reads to him and his fitter fome winter evening the interefting tale ?—That boy was yourself!-Seeft thou again how he makes the chair his table, and the footftool his chair! See how he devours the romance, while ball and playthings lye neglected in the corner!-That boy was yourself!/ My honoured mother-Heaven be praised the ftill lives, the hears my grateful acknowledgments-My good mother, when but a very young widow, denied herself many of the pleasures and enjoyments of life, to devote herfelf entirely to the education of her children. She poffeffed tafte, reading, fenfibility, and a rich portion of patient maternal affection. With these qualities, her efforts could not be wholly unsuccessful. She provided preceptors of different kinds, but to her own difcernment and tafte I owe more than to the tutors to whofe care my inftruction was confided. In Still preferving the narrative in the Author's own words, the tranflator has omitted many things which, to the English reader, would have been uninterefting, and which would have extended this article to an exceffive length. Ed. Mag. Auguft 1799. N In the evening I ufed to read to her in the parlour. The first book that made a lively impreffion on me was a Collection of Tales felected from all languages, then in great repute; the next was Don Quixote; Robinfon Crufoe then engroffed my fancy, and I wished myfelf the pof. feffor of fome defert island. Even in my fixth year I began to compofe rude effays in verfe; not long after I made my firft dramatic effort. I made a comedy. which was juft the length of an octavo page. I was fenfible, indeed, that it ought to be much longer, in order to refemble a comedy; but who was to teach me the art of fpinning out the thread, and expanding my materials? I now come to that incident of my life, which, in its confequences, produced the greateft influence on my character, and from my tendereft childhood irrevocably deftined me to be a dramatic writer. The late Abt, the player, came with his trolling company to Weimar. Since I poffeffed any power of thought, there had been no players in Weimar, and my curiofity was unbounded. Mufæus, the amiable and excellent Mufæus, who was attached to me from a child, offered to take me to the theatre. I went with a kind of reverential awe; my expectation was wound up to the highest pitch. The piece was Klopflock's Death of Adam. Mufæus placed me before him on a bench, that I might fee over the heads of the fpectators. The curtain drew up. I was all car, all eye. Not a word, not a movement efcaped me. Never had I before experienced fuch powerful impreffions. I returned home enchanted. Robinfon Crufoe and the defert island difappeared. The theatre now engroffed my whole foul. My joy, therefore, was unbounded, when the Duchefs Amelia, that favourite of the Muses, established a theatre at Weimar. Several of the most celebrated performers of the time came there, and, among others, the admirable Eckhof. I never omitted any opportunity of going to the play, and I wondered that thofe who could do what they pleased, could prefer any other fpecies of entertainment. As a proof of my at tention, I could repeat the whole of Leffing's Emilia Galotti without ever having had the book in my hand. To the honour of the fafhionable world at Weimar, I must confefs indeed that Emilia Galotti was very often performed, and always to full houses. Meanwhile I was a pupil of Mufæus in the Gymnafium at Weimar. Among other things, we had every Saturday an hour dedicated to the reading of little poetical attempts. At this period the rage for ballets was at its height, and the magazines fwarmed with terrific ftories of chivalry and ghofts. I composed a ballet in the tafte of the times. It contained abundance of murder and ghofts; a Spirit read a lecture, on vice. and the finner was at length carried away by the Devil. I read this performance the firft Saturday after it was ready; and judge my raptures, when, after it was finifhed, Mufæus pronounced thofe words, which I fhall never forget: "Well, very well! From what magazine have you taken this?" With what triumph did I reply, that it was my own compofition! "Really!" anfwered Mufæus: "Bravo! go on." Nothing could exceed my tranfports at this panegyric, and my poetic propenfity was confirmed. At this time of life every thing is imitation, and I am convinced that there is not a fingle original idea in a man's head till he is of an age to propagate his fpecies. Every thing I now made was only an imitation of the book I had laft read. I wrote a comedy called All's well that Ends Well, Well, which I believe had a ftrong with confiderable zeal to the study of refemblance to the Count of Olfbach. jurifprudence I likewife attended Goethe used to visit in our houfe; the profeffors of hiftory, logic, and he heard of my comedy, and was fo metaphyfics, and continued to imcondefcending, or fo polite, as to afk prove myself in modern languages. a reading of it. By this with he highly gratified my mother; and this probably was his object, for I never heard more of the comedy. This able man, however, in my boyish days always treated me with great kindness. In my fixteenth year I went to Iena. At first my attention was principally directed to the acquifition of the dead and living languages, and in both these my knowledge was confiderably increased. At lena my partiality for the ftage ftill continued. Before my arrival, there was a private theatre established among the ftudents, and it was one of my first objects to be admitted into the affociation. As it is not customary for ladies to appear in fuch theatres, on account of my youth female characters of the younger fort were often affigned to me. My propenfity for rhyming likewife continued, and I produced a number of poetic trifles. In my eighteenth year I undertook to write a romance, which I finished. It confifted of eight or ten fheets, and, in my own opinion at the time, was nothing inferior to Goethe's Werther. The ftory indeed was much more terrific; for my hero precipitated himself from the top of a high rock, and was dafhed to pieces. This performance I fent to Weygand, then publisher of the most fafhionable romances at Leipzic. After waiting fome time, however, I had the mortification to receive an answer from him, in which he told me that the manufcript was at my fervice, and defiring me to order payment of the poftage of it! I never, however, enquired after it. In the year 1779 I returned to lena from the vifit I had paid to my fifter then lately married, and applied I this year produced a tragedy called Charlotte Trank, which was performed at our private theatre, and I myfelf enacted one of the principal characters. The reception of it, however, was rather cold. Soon after I wrote a comedy, which was much better received, and, as far as I recollect, contained fome tolerable comic touches. I like wife inftituted a poetic club, from which I derived confiderable improvement. In my nineteenth year I returned to Weimar, and ftudied the Pandects with great induftry; was examined by the Government, and admitted Advocate. While I waited for cli-ents, I myself continued a zealous client of the Mufes. The fummer after my return I wrote feveral little things, which I am not now ambitious to recall into notice. 1 likewife wrote fome Tales, which were publifhed with my name by Dyk, at Leipfic, with an hundred and fifty pages by fome other hand. Several little dramatic pieces were likewise the produce of my partiality for the theatre. In 1781 I went to Peterburgh. For fome time I repressed my turn for poetic purfuits, but I again began occafionally to indulge my ruling propenfity. There was a German theatre at Petersburgh. It was then in a very indifferent ftate: but foon after it was put in the number of the royal theatres, and the direction of it given to my friend General Bawr, of the artillery, a German. I now again found myfelf in my element. I wrote a tragedy in five acts, cal. led Demetrius Czar of Mofcow. By a whimsical circumftance the reprefentation of this piece was nearly prohibited. In the history Demetrius was by many called an impoftor. In my N 2 play play I found it convenient to make him a hero. It turned out, however, that there was an old proclamation of Peter the Great, in which this fame Demetrius was declared to be an im poftor. With much difficulty, however, the piece was allowed to be per formed; after I had in a very formal manner been made to declare that I was perfectly satisfied of the impofture of Demetrius, and the juftice of the proclamation, and that the freedom which I had used in my play was merely a licentia poetica. I likewife wrote a comedy, called The Nun and the Chambermaid, which was performed with great fuccefs. It was never publifhed, and the copy of it was accidentally loft. In the year 1782, fome of my friends who had influence at court propofed to procure me a place, and to facilitate their exertions I was requested to write a fmall volume of Tales and Fables for young Princes, to be dedicated to the young Grand Duke. Though I felt no great call for fuch a task, I complied; and the volume was printed in a moft fuperb manner by the direction of one of my friends. Finding, however, that I was not qualified for this kind of writing, I refolved, after the work had proceeded a confiderable length, to repay the publisher for his expence, and to bury the four sheets which were finished in eternal oblivion. Ye who so often and fo loudly accufe me of vanity, to my Fables, I appeal as the proof of your falfehood! Their fuppreffion coft me fome hundred rubles, but my vanity not a figh. I now come to the period when I went to refide at Revel. Soon after this I wrote two plays, The Hermit of Formentera, and Adelaide of Wul fingen, he former was performed at a private theatre, and my propenfity for the ftage revived. To this * The Stranger. propenfity the people of Revel are indebted for a theatre, which for the laft ten years has had an excellent company, and can boaft of performers of no common merit. It was opened with a piece of mine, called Every Fool has his Cap. The piece bore a ftriking refemblance to Moliere's Mifer, and I have buried it among my papers. In autumn, 1787, I was feized with a fevere illness, which for several years reduced me to a ftate between life and death; or, what is worfe than death, a ftate of gloomy dejection of fpirits. In the very height of this malady I wrote Mifanthropy and Repentance*, and foon after The Indians in England. Both of them were finished within about eight or nine weeks. Never in my life, either before or fince, did I feel fuch copioufnefs of ideas, fuch vigour of imagination, fuch fertility of diction; and I believe it to be undeni able that there are some kinds of maladies (among which may particularly be included those which increase the irritability of the nerves) which elevate the powers of the mind to an unufual height; juft as, according to the ftory, a diseased muscle forms a pearl. In the year 1790 I wrote The Virgin of the Sun, The Child of Lovet, and Brother Montz the Humourist. I likewife proceeded in the collection. of my fmaller works. Upon Mifanthropy and Repentance many foolish things were faid and written at the time. Among other things, it was objected that it was defective in poetic juftice, becaufe, by an unconditional forgivenefs, I had reftored the criminal to the enjoyment of all the pleasures of life. Whether any forgiveness could completely remove the cruel punishment which her crime carried with it; whether fuch a woman as † Lovers Vows. Eula Eulalia*, with a confcience fo awak- ly was who did me the honour to mistake me for a spy, or a red caped Jacobin. It seems to be my fate, that while Mr Huber and Co. exclaim against me as an advocate of defpotifm, the defpots around confider me as a dangerous democrat, worthy of their most jealous attention. I could give fignal examples of this, if a man were at liberty to tell all he could. ened, could ever again be happy, are queftions which nobody thought it worth while to afk, except Mr Zieg. ler, who, however, took up the whole affair erroneoufly, and, by the unjuftifiable freedom of calling Eulalia's Feducer from the dead, completely changed the nature of the cafe. I therefore wrote the Noble Lie, in which, although certainly there appears a young lady fallen from vir. tue, a circumftance on which the impure imagination of Reviewers continues to dwell, anquestionably prevails the pureft moral that ever was inculcated from the pulpit or the ftage. In 1790, I experienced one of the fevereft difpenfations of Providence in the death of an amiable wife. Grief for this lofs drove me to Paris, and the account of this excurfion I published under the title of The Flight to Paris. This book was likewife feverely attacked by fome critics. Full of indignation against the Parifians, of whose exceffes 1 had been an eye-witness, on my return to Mentz I wrote The Female Jacobin Club, a farce not without fome humour. My friend Huber, however, because he happened to be of a different political creed from me, fell foul of it in the most violent manner. Nevertheless, however, defpotifm is to me as hateful as to him; and this I teftified foon after in my Philofophical Sketch of Louis XIV. My publisher at Strafburgh fent me the work in manufcript, and the correfpondence which I had with him on the fubject, was broken open before it reached me I complained to our minifter at Frankfort on the fubject, who took my fide; but it was alleged at Mentz that the letters were open before they arrived there, and I never was able to learn who it real Once in my life I had the weaknefs to write a book in complaifance to another. It was the book on Nobility. I could say a great deal on this fubject, but I am not at liberty to do it. If the world knew-and perhaps they may one day know-into what equivocal reputation of a certain kind I have been thrown by the opinions, which both before and fince I have expreffed, and which have been fo egregiously misreprefented; if they knew how my most confidential private correfpondence was turned against me; if they knew what inducements I had, and from whom they proceeded, they would decide upon that production upon quite different grounds; they would take into view not only the author, but the citizen and the father. I confefs, however, that my inconfiderate complaifance laid me open in feveral points to the attacks of criticism; but for attack from those with whom I had lived in habits of friendship, [ was not prepared. All that I have written fince has been received by the public with approbation, and by the critics announced without approbation. Thefe are, Count Benyowfky, The Death of Rolla, The Youngest Children of my Fancy †, Poverty and Honour, The Man of Forty Years, The Negro Slaves, The Chace, The Count of Burgundy, The Defamers, Falfe Shame, and La Peyrouse. Many * Called Adelaide, or Mrs Haller, in the play as performed here. tale, was first published. |