ADVERTISEMENT. paraphrase THE following translation of UNDINE, one of the minor romances of Frederic, Baron de la Motte Fouquè, is from the fourth impression of the original, that of Berlin, 1826. It was made in the winter of 1835, and has since received such revision and improvement, as the kindness of literary friends, in connection with my own wish to do as little injustice to the genius of the author as I could, has enabled me to give it. This is no place for discussing the characteristics of Fouquè, but he has one excellence of composition so rich and rare, that I may be permitted to allude to it here:-I mean his harmonious union of fiction and fact, his exquisite blending of the natural and supernatural. So perfect do we find this union to be, such a melting indeed of both into one, that we hardly know in which of the two we feel ourselves most at home. We have the true feeling of real life, embellished by the magic of imagination,—just as the frost-work, which at times we see almost spiritualizing our groves and shrubberies in winter, constitutes so much of their peculiar charm ; - and this double excellence it was, that led me to select and translate a few specimens of this writer's Natural and Supernatural. UNDINE is a beautifully imaginative tale, a masterpiece in this department of German literature. With a simplicity of the antique cast it combines the most picturesque wildness, unbroken interest, excellent principles, a peculiar vein of pleasantry, and even what we seldom look for in works of this kind, touches of genuine pathos. We are esteemed, and I presume justly, a less imaginative race than the people of Germany. Our traditions, local superstitions, early influences, education, habits of thought, and other circumstances of life, are of a more common-place order than theirs. We are not, it may be, less fond of legendary lore, since love of the marvellous seems to be a universal impulse in our nature; but we seek its enjoyment with the mere calm approval of fancy, while they welcome it with much of the warmth of good faith. Still, if THE WORLD OF REALITY, NOT THE FAIRYLAND OF ROMANCE,' be our maxim, the spirit of truth and tenderness is no where wholly extinct long as it may lie slumbering in the soul, it is too inseparable a part of our being ever to die. Is not imagination a germ of immortality? I am gratified to perceive that many writers allude to this fiction in terms of warm commendation. Menzel, in his developement of German Literature, of which we have lately been favoured with an able translation, speaks of this and the 'Vial-Genie,' or 'Mandrake,' another miniature romance by the same author, in these words: "Fouquè's 'Undine' will always continue one of the most delightful creations of German poetry. Also the little story of the 'Mandrake' belongs to the best elaborations of the old national sagas," or tales of the supernatural, derived from the voice of traditional superstition. But the most accurate appreciation that I have seen of Undine, I find among those golden fragments of the richest of minds, the Specimens of the Table Talk of S. T. Coleridge. This is the passage to which I refer: "Undine is a most exquisite work. It shows the general want of any sense for the fine and the subtle in the public taste, that this romance made no deep impression. Undine's character, before she receives a soul, is marvellously beautiful.” The author, to whom we are so much indebted for these Specimens and other Literary Remains, and to whom we hope to be more and more indebted, as well for these labours of love as for those of his own classical genius, observes in a note: "Mr. Coleridge's admiration of this little romance was unbounded. He said there was something in Undine even beyond Scott,- that Scott's best characters and conceptions were composed; by which I understood him to mean, that Baillie Nicol Jarvie, for example, was made up of old particulars, and received its individuality from the author's power of fusion, being in the result an admirable product, as Corinthian brass was said to be the conflux of the spoils of a city. But Undine, he said, was one and single in projection, and had presented to his imagination, what Scott had never done, an absolutely new idea." This character being formed according to the principles of the Rosicrucian philosophy, it has been suggested to me, that, to enable the reader to understand and appreciate her story, I ought to prefix a sketch of that system to my translation, and I once thought of profiting by the suggestion. On reflection, however, I cannot but view the work as complete in itself. Whatever seems requisite, even for readers least conversant with such lore, Fouquè has contrived to incorporate, and I think very happily too, with the texture of his fable. See the developements of the eighth chapter. Every body enjoys the delightful marvels of the ARABIAN NIGHTS, marvels that have almost become numbered among the commonplaces of our experience; even children understand the machinery of genii, magicians, talismans, rings, lamps, and enchanted horses. To this fourth edition, and it may be to an earlier, the author attached the following airy and graceful 'DEDICATION: Vision of beauty, dear Undine, I found you, mystic sprite, How soothing to my heart your voice has been! You press beside me, angel mild, Soft breathing all your woes, Still my guitar has caught the tone, Your whispered sorrows rolled, Till thro' the world their sound is flown. And many hearts your sweetness love, The wild and wondrous tale approve. Now would they warmly, one and all, Then, sweet, your way pursue, And, fearless, enter bower and hall. Greet noble knights with homage due; But greet, all trusting there, The lovely German fair; "Welcome," they cry, "the maiden true!" And if toward ME one dart a glance, Say, "He's a loyal knight, Who serves you, ladies bright, Guitar and sword,—at tourney, feast, and dance." The reader will allow me to observe, in closing these brief notices, that, supported as well by my own feeling as by the judgment of Menzel, Coleridge, and, I may add, by the general voice of criticism, I view UNDINE not only as a work of art, but as something far superior, an exquisite creation of genius. If I have failed to do justice to her peculiar traits, in thus introducing her to him in the costume of our language, it is not owing to want of admiration, or of studiously endeavouring to be faithful to my trust; and, aware of the difficulty of presenting her the 'vision of beauty' that Fouquè 'found' her, he will forgive the fond impulse of my ambition. What welcome she may receive among us, it remains for the noble knights and lovely ladies of our country to show. She does not come as a stranger, she has already been once greeted with favour; still, wide as may be her fame in the world of letters, she seems, as yet, to be more talked of in the world of common readers, than, if I may so speak, known in person. To ALL lovers of the imaginative, therefore, to every "simple, affectionate, and wonder-loving heart," — her fortunes are again committed. - - THIS translation of UNDINE was first published in 1839, as the third volume of the New York 'LIBRARY OF ROMANCE,' of which 'PHANTASMION formed the first and second. It was republished also, the same year, in the London STANDARD LIBRARY.' Encouraged by its favourable reception, and feeling that every thing of value, in a picture so closely allied to poetry as this, depends on skilfully disposing the colours of thought, the lights and shades of expression, I have since that edition again and again compared it with the German, and spared no pains to render it less unworthy of the welcome with which it has been honoured. What I proposed to myself, as a general if not an invariable rule in translating and revising, was this, to adhere to the verbal import of the original, whenever a freer rendering did not give promise of more clearness, beauty, or force of expression, in English. Freedom and fidelity, indeed, have been my continual aim; but, notwithstanding the imperfections which I have from time to time detected and removed, when I perceive how faint a shadow my version is of the vivid original, I am able to make no higher boast than that of having tried to copy the author's fineness and subtlety of conception, as well as the ease and sim plicity of his execution. Still, however inadequate the translation may be, and however perfect a copy some more expert translator may produce, few or none will ever submit to a like process of revision and improvement to make it such; and though a labour of love,' as one of my reviewers has been pleased to call my work, a striving after accuracy of thought and expression, as if it were a case of conscience, — it is a labour, that I would fain hope I shall seldom find it necessary to repeat. THE VIAL-GENIE AND MAD FARTHING, entitled in the original "DAS GALGENMÄNNLEIN," I translate from Fouquè's "KLEINE ROMANE," or Little Romances. Its peculiar merit was suggested to me by a friend, (the late deeply lamented Dr. CHARLES FOLLEN,) most familiar with 6 what he happily called "the interminable forest of German literature," and to him I am therefore indebted for the pleasant labour of translation. To many minds, it is probable, the liveliness of the fiction, its rapid transitions of fortune, its natural developement of feeling, its air of earnest reality, the danger it impresses of tampering with evil, and the fine moral influence of its crowd of incidents, will be even more arresting than the greater delicacy, sweetness, and imaginative power of Undine. Vial-Genies and Mad Farthings, being more tangible to the general reader, are more formed to gratify the popular taste, than (if I may venture to use such a phrase) the spiritual picturesque of Nature, or the tender glimpses of the heart. THE COLLIER-FAMILY, or RED-MANTLE AND THE MERCHANT, is a translation of Fouquè's "DIE KÖHLERFAMILIE," one of his New Tales or Minor Romances. He calls it a remarkable adventure' in the life of a German merchant. It is indeed as original in its conception as it is happy in its execution, blending, in a manner peculiarly the author's own, the fine touches of imagination with the homeliness of common life. Its moral is admirable, perhaps the only infallible charm for laying the evil spirit of the times. Allusion being often made in this volume to the ALMADORA RAVIne, a scene of no visionary attributes, I thought the reader might be desirous, as well as the lady, of a more particular introduction. Such is one of the purposes of this little panorama. The picture is of the Flemish school, taken immediately from Nature, and without one touch of fiction in its composition. The first sketches or brief outlines of the pieces it illustrates, were made many years ago, (more than three times the number required by the nine-year dogma of Horace,) but they were finished at a later period. All who may have loved, in the morning of their creative power, to weave these webs of "elfine loom," will speak in their defence the kind word of Shakspeare's Theseus: "The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them." I know not whether they are worth preserving, but possibly they may find favour with some few readers of this class, such as, yet feeling within them somewhat of the freshness of youthful impulse, are not too wise to love the workings of Fancy, — "the power That first unsensualizes the dark mind, |