most dangerous extreme. " I had a dream, which was not all a dream," says one of our poets ! and so too may it be with much that we are apt indiscriminately to call " fictitious or imaginary."
The tone of mind which such writings as that of our author tend to foster, is one of faith in the invisible ; while, on the other hand, those of most other novelists rather tend to the opposite habit of scepticism.' There is, therefore, one especial charm about the tales of Fouque, which even those of Scott do not possess ; though there is doubtless much in the latter which in many ways tends to good.
This, of course, is not the place to point out the merits of the author of " Waverley " as a romance writer ; and the attempt might well be deemed absurd at this time of day. In many re- spects he is far before Fouque. One particular may be cited : we think the readers of the latter must often have desiderated that wonderful talent of Scott by which all the parts of his tale are made to hang together — each event and character fitting into its place with graceful order, and yet without stiffness or formality — and at last forming, what is so gratifying to the mind of the reader at the time, and so pleasing in recollection, one symmetrical whole. Fouque, with all his glowing descriptions and true poetical touches, does ct-rtainly sometimes provoke us by his wild con- fusion and almost contempt of plan.- For this we must, of course, account by the cast of his genius. He was unquestionably a true poet— calling up, as he went on, the most beautiful pictures, and presenting them before us, as they arose to his own mind, in all their primitive freshness and simplicity, but lacking that talent which would bring them into due order and method, and which, though a lower gift than poetical genius, is yet very needful for one who would not only make a series of beautiful sketches, but who would also form a well-compacted tale. It seems probable that this defect has operated against the general j)opularity of these works
' Some of the popular books of the day, which profess to explain marvels, are dangerous in this way. They try to prove too much ; and by their otl'-hand way of treating every thing which savours of miraculous agency, tlioy — unconsciously it may be, but really — play into the hands of the rationalist, and I'urnish weapons with which a worse class of persons will go on to demolish altogether a belief in invisible influences.
2 It must be admitted, however, that many of his shorter pieces are very perfect iu their structure.
