  Nature had provided for Don Giovanni, one of her dearest children, all that could elevate a man above the crowd which is condemned to be, to do, and to suffer: she had lavished on him the gifts which bid the human nature approximate to the divine. She had destined him to shine, to conquer and to rule. She had animated with a splendid organization that vigorous and accomplished frame: had inspired that breast with a celestial spark: had given to him a soul of deep feeling, quick and penetrating intelligence. We think Hoffman’s description of Don Giovanni a little exaggerated, but the Boston imitation is what may be called a “free translation,” very free. All that duality business—“that ideal impersonation of two qualities or springs of character,” is decidedly an attempt to amplify, if not to improve the German criticism, and is in the usual moral-defying style of the no-principle school of Harbinger and Phalanx writers. In olden times our grand-parents, when they saw any thing particularly broad or free in expression or action, were apt to say, with a proper shrug of the shoulders, that it was “very French.” At the present day, when we see any thing questionable in morals or opinions we exclaim, “transcendental, mock German, and, very Boston;” and thus we say of this attempt of Mr. Dwight’s to idealize the very sensual, commonplace libertine of the opera. We will now give another comparison. |
|
