Strictly Speaking, The Idea Of A Scientific

Whoever Could Properly Characterize Goethe's Meister Would Have Actually Expressed What Is The Timely Trend In Literature. He Would Be Able, As Far As Literary Criticism Is Concerned, To Rest.

Just As A Child Is Really A Thing That Wants To Become A Man, So Is The Poem An Object Of Nature That Wants To Become An Object Ofart.

In England, Wit Is At Least A Profession, If Not An Art. Everything Becomes Professional There, And Even The Rogues Of That Islandare Pedants. So Are The "wits" There Too. They Introduce Into Reality Absolute Freedom Whose Reflection Lends A Romantic And Piquant Air To Wit, And Thus They Live Wittily; Hence Their Talent For Madness. They Die For Their Principles.

Reason Is Mechanical, Wit Chemical, And Genius Organic Spirit.

Genius Is, To Be Sure, Not A Matter Of Arbitrariness, But Rather Of Freedom, Just As Wit, Love, And Faith, Which Once Shall Become Arts And Disciplines. We Should Demand Genius From Everybody, Without, However, Expecting It.