Now, In Germany, Since Gellert, There Has As Yet
Been No Poet's Name Familiar To The People.
But the quick sale of
the classical authors is here promoted also by cheap and convenient
editions.
They have them all bound in pocket volumes, as well as in
a more pompous style. I myself bought Milton in duodecimo for two
shillings, neatly bound; it is such a one as I can, with great
convenience, carry in my pocket. It also appears to me to be a good
fashion, which prevails here, and here only, that the books which
are most read, are always to be had already well and neatly bound.
At stalls, and in the streets, you every now and then meet with a
sort of antiquarians, who sell single or odd volumes; sometimes
perhaps of Shakespeare, etc., so low as a penny; nay, even sometimes
for a halfpenny a piece. Of one of these itinerant antiquarians I
bought the two volumes of the Vicar of Wakefield for sixpence, i.e.
for the half of an English shilling. In what estimation our German
literature is held in England, I was enabled to judge, in some
degree, by the printed proposals of a book which I saw. The title
was, "The Entertaining Museum, or Complete Circulating Library,"
which is to contain a list of all the English classical authors, as
well as translations of the best French, Spanish, Italian, and even
German novels.
The moderate price of this book deserves also to be noticed; as by
such means books in England come more within the reach of the
people; and of course are more generally distributed among them.
The advertisement mentions that in order that everyone may have it
in his power to buy this work, and at once to furnish himself with a
very valuable library, without perceiving the expense, a number will
be sent out weekly, which, stitched, costs sixpence, and bound with
the title on the back, ninepence. The twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth
numbers contain the first and second volume of the Vicar of
Wakefield, which I had just bought of the antiquarian above-
mentioned.
The only translation from the German which has been particularly
successful in England, is Gesner's "Death of Abel." The translation
of that work has been oftener reprinted in England than ever the
original was in Germany. I have actually seen the eighteenth
edition of it; and if the English preface is to be regarded, it was
written by a lady. "Klopstock's Messiah," as is well known, has
been here but ill received; to be sure, they say it is but
indifferently translated. I have not yet been able to obtain a
sight of it. The Rev. Mr. Wendeborn has written a grammar for the
German language in English, for the use of Englishmen, which has met
with much applause.
I must not forget to mention, that the works of Mr. Jacob Boehmen
are all translated into English.
CHAPTER V.
London, 13th June.
Often as I had heard Ranelagh spoken of, I had yet formed only an
imperfect idea of it. I supposed it to be a garden somewhat
different from that of Vauxhall; but, in fact, I hardly knew what I
thought of it. Yesterday evening I took a walk in order to visit
this famous place of amusement; but I missed my way and got to
Chelsea; where I met a man with a wheel-barrow, who not only very
civilly showed me the right road, but also conversed with me the
whole of the distance which we walked together. And finding, upon
enquiry, that I was a subject of the King of Prussia, he desired me,
with much eagerness, to relate to him some anecdotes concerning that
mighty monarch. At length I arrived at Ranelagh; and having paid my
half-crown on entrance, I soon enquired for the garden door, and it
was readily shown to me; when, to my infinite astonishment, I found
myself in a poor, mean-looking, and ill-lighted garden, where I met
but few people. I had not been here long before I was accosted by a
young lady, who also was walking there, and who, without ceremony,
offered me her arm, asking me why I walked thus solitarily? I now
concluded, this could not possibly be the splendid, much-boasted
Ranelagh; and so, seeing not far from me a number of people entering
a door, I followed them, in hopes either to get out again, or to
vary the scene.
But it is impossible to describe, or indeed to conceive, the effect
it had on me, when, coming out of the gloom of the garden, I
suddenly entered a round building, illuminated by many hundred
lamps; the splendour and beauty of which surpassed everything of the
kind I had ever seen before. Everything seemed here to be round;
above, there was a gallery divided into boxes; and in one part of it
an organ with a beautiful choir, from which issued both instrumental
and vocal music. All around, under this gallery, are handsome
painted boxes for those who wish to take refreshments: the floor
was covered with mats, in the middle of which are four high black
pillars; within which there are neat fire-places for preparing tea,
coffee and punch; and all around, also, there are placed tables, set
out with all kinds of refreshments. Within these four pillars, in a
kind of magic rotundo, all the beau-monde of London move perpetually
round and round.
I at first mixed with this immense concourse of people, of all
sexes, ages, countries, and characters; and I must confess, that the
incessant change of faces, the far greater number of which were
strikingly beautiful, together with the illumination, the extent and
majestic splendour of the place, with the continued sound of the
music, makes an inconceivably delightful impression on the
imagination; and I take the liberty to add, that, on seeing it now
for the first time, I felt pretty nearly the same sensations that I
remember to have felt when, in early youth, I first read the Fairy
Tales.
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