As my starting point I shall take a statement about Goethe's relation to science which is both recent and precise, and which was made by Ronold Ring, professor of physics at Harvard University. According to King, Goethe was a true scientist in every respect, except that he limited his inquiry in two ways: he practiced observational science but rejected experimental science; and he formulated scientific insight in terms of fundamental principle, but not in terms of mathematical law. Goethe's aversion to experimental science is explained by King as a fear of analytical processes which do not lead to a subsequent reintegration or synthesis, and this fear, in turn, is attributed to Goethe's failure to understand that the application of mathematics to the findings of experimental science produces precisely such syntheses. King believes that “if Goethe had anticipated that out of analysis and planned experiment might rise the great tower of systematic world-science … he would have met the challenge of mathematics in nature and in life as resolutely and as effectively as he had met the challenge of observational science to the anti-rationalism of his youth.”

The starting point of this paper is the following passage from the troubadour Guilhem Ademar's poem “De ben gran joia chantera” (P.-C. 202,5) recently published by Kurt Almqvist:

One of the characteristic features of English and of continental Romanticism was a widespread interest in the origins, nature, and meaning of the myths of the ancient world. Especially in England among classical scholars, antiquarians, and learned churchmen there was a zealous desire to resurrect divinities long forgotten and to find in them and their exploits a relevance for the modern age. One of the most characteristic and influential treatises on myth in the period was the Reverend Jacob Bryant's A New System, or, An Analysis of Antient Mythology (1774–76), an ambitious project whose purpose was “to rectify what time has impaired: to divest mythology of every foreign and unmeaning ornament, and to display the truth in its native simplicity.” He hoped thereby to give a “new turn to antient history, and to place it upon a surer foundation.” By hypothesizing that the Noachian Deluge was the focal event in ancient history and by seeking to show that its symbolism explained or elucidated the bulk of universal mythology, Bryant was confident that he was not only doing a service to knowledge but also that he was strengthening the premises of Christian truth. On similar diluvian hypotheses Thomas Maurice's Indian Antiquities (1793–1800), Edward Davies' The Mythology and the Rites of the British Druids (1809), and George Stanley Faber's The Origin of Pagan Idolatry (1816) attempted to achieve the same ends. Other notable researches in myth at the turn of the nineteenth century in England were those of Sir William Jones, the Orientalist, Sir William Drummond, the skeptic philosopher, and Richard Payne Knight, the art connoisseur. Well known also in learned circles was the more radically speculative mythologizing of such Frenchmen as Pierre Hugues (D'Hancarville), Jean Sylvain Bailly, and Charles François Dupuis.

In Blake's Notebook drafts of The Tyger we have a valuable record of the growth of a great poem, a record which not only brings the poem itself into clearer focus but gives us as well another glimpse of the poet during a crucial but scantily documented period of his life. Yet, curiously enough, critics have largely neglected them. The fact that Blake revised this poem more than any other has been noticed, to be sure, and some critics have shown how a line or a stanza in the final poem is an improvement over earlier versions. But only one extended study of the drafts has been made, Joseph Wicksteed's attempt to reconstruct Blake's composition by association of ideas. And that is incomplete: of the three full drafts of the poem (counting the final version as the third), and the additional drafts of two stanzas, Wicksteed studies thoroughly only the first draft and an additional draft of one stanza.

In 1613 Quevedo left Spain to join his friend, Pedro Téllez Girón, Duke of Osuna and at that time Viceroy of Sicily. Two years later Quevedo was chosen by the Sicilian Parliament to present in person the triennial contribution of 300,000 ducats to the King of Spain. During the eight months he spent in Madrid, the satirist gained a wealth of experience in intrigue and practical politics. The purpose of this article is to edit with brief comment letters recently uncovered in Spain which bear on this sojourn in Madrid. These documents clarify the nature of Quevedo's relationship with the Duke of Osuna, facilitate the analysis of his experiences at the Court and reactions to current political practices, and make possible the rectification of various misconceptions. No attempt will be made below to restate what is already known about these years of Quevedo's life.

Die dunkle welt der dämonischen Mächte, wie sie bei Tieck und anderen vorkommt, ist der Philologie ein Gegenstand von höchstem Interesse, weil sie als Zeugnis der Einbildungskraft und der Ungeheuer-lichkeit des Problematischen im menschlichen Intellekt dasteht. Diese Traumwelt, deren phantastische und rätselhafte Eigenschaften aufierhalb der tastbaren Erfahrungen des realen Weltalls schweben, gewährt dem Menschen einen Blick in das Zeitlose, in das Unendliche hinein, und wird deshalb von der Tiefenpsychologie eifrig durchforscht, weil sie als eine Widerspiegelung des Unbewußten aufgefaßt wird und weil sie vielleicht zu einem Verständnis des menschlichen Seelenlebens und der Seelenkrankheiten führen könnte. Ludwig Tieck blickte zitternd in das Reich des TJnbewuCten hinein und wurde von seiner Grenzenlosigkeit bezaubert, ohne zu wissen, was diese Welt des Unendlichen eigentlich sei, und ohne es zu ahnen, daß er in Gefahr stand, die reale Welt ganz aus dem Auge zu verlieren und in den Bereich des Unbewufiten völlig hineinzustärzen. Ja, er spekulierte sogar, daß das Reich der Träurne die wahre Welt sein könnte und das Bewußtsein dagegen ein Verdammern oder eine Hemmung. Die Neigung zum Unbewußten zog ihn so mächtig an, daß er sich oft in dieser unendlichen Welt verlor und sich einbildete, er habe Geister aus dem Jenseits gesehen. Gläcklicherweise sind diese Gesichte von der Welt des TJnbewuCten nur vergängliche Erfahrungen gewesen, sonst hätte Tieck das Schicksal anderer Dichter erlitten und die Hälfte seiner Tage im Irrenhaus zugebracht, denn sich im Unbewußten zu verlieren bedeutet geisteskrank zu werden.

“Voici,” wrote Corneille in his dedication of L'Illusion comique 1636) to the unidentified M. F. D. R., “un étrange monstre que je vous dédie. Le premier acte n'est qu'un prologue, les trois suivants font une comédie imparfaite, le dernier est une tragédie: et tout cela, cousu ensemble, fait une comédie.” Most critics of the play have not looked beyond the first part of this indulgent characterization by its author: with varying degrees of indulgence on their own part, they have regarded L'Illusion comique primarily as “un étrange monstre.” It has been dismissed as a youthful whim; taxed with superficiality and inconsistency; seen primarily as an étude dramatique; believed interesting only as a document of theatrical life in the period, a backstage curio; viewed as a dramatization of Corneille's relations with the actor Mondory. Whatever the critical point of view (biographical, esthetic, historical or moral), the views of the play have all been partial. Yet many of these views are right, but right only when taken altogether: this early play is an élude dramatique; a document of the stage controversy of the period; a backstage drama; a dramatization of Corneille's relations with actors; a whim. It is, in short, a play about the theater.

Evocation of the spirit of a former age is one of the surest ways to demonstrate that the past can never be the present. Sheridan, in writing The School for Scandal, made an excursion into the Restoration, an act of literary nostalgia, and a recognition, perhaps, that he had been born a century too late. His purpose was clear: to write a neo-Restoration high comedy of manners. That he achieved it outwardly is certain. That he succeeded in resurrecting the spirit is a question—one which raises still another question: wherein lies the “spirit” of Restoration comedy?

The October Eclogue of The Shepheardes Calender is based largely upon Platonic ideas about music and poetry, especially ideas of the divine inspiration of poetry and the effect of music upon man's soul. Piers's verses praising Cuddie for his great gifts as a poet refer to this power: