so for criticism there are spiritual marks which determine the type, and make us speak of the Greek genius, the Teutonic genius, the Celtic genius, and so on.  Here is another test at our service; and this test, too, has never yet been thoroughly employed.  Foreign critics have indeed occasionally hazarded the idea that in English poetry there is a Celtic element traceable; and Mr. Morley, in his very readable as well as very useful book on the English writers before Chaucer, has a sentence which struck my attention when I read it, because it expresses an opinion which I, too, have long held.  Mr. Morley says:  —­’The main current of English literature cannot be disconnected from the lively Celtic wit in which it has one of its sources.  The Celts do not form an utterly distinct part of our mixed population.  But for early, frequent, and various contact with the race that in its half-barbarous days invented Ossian’s dialogues with St. Patrick, and that quickened afterwards the Northmen’s blood in France, Germanic England would not have produced a Shakspeare.’  But there Mr. Morley leaves the matter.  He indicates this Celtic element and influence, but he does not show us,—­it did not come within the scope of his work to show us,—­how this influence has declared itself.  Unlike the physiological test, or the linguistic test, this literary, spiritual test is one which I may perhaps be allowed to try my hand at applying.  I say that there is a Celtic element in the English nature, as well as a Germanic element, and that this element manifests itself in our spirit and literature.  But before I try to point out how it manifests itself, it may be as well to get a clear notion of what we mean by a Celtic element, a Germanic element; what characters, that is, determine for us the Celtic genius, the Germanic genius, as we commonly conceive the two.

IV.

Let me repeat what I have often said of the characteristics which mark the English spirit, the English genius.  This spirit, this genius, judged, to be sure, rather from a friend’s than an enemy’s point of view, yet judged on the whole fairly, is characterised, I have repeatedly said, by energy with honesty.  Take away some of the energy which comes to us, as I believe, in part from Celtic and Roman sources; instead of energy, say rather steadiness; and you have the Germanic genius steadiness with honesty.  It is evident how nearly the two characterisations approach one another; and yet they leave, as we shall see, a great deal of room for difference.  Steadiness with honesty; the danger for a national spirit thus composed is the humdrum, the plain and ugly, the ignoble:  in a word, das Gemeine, die Gemeinheit, that curse of Germany, against which Goethe was all his life fighting.  The excellence of a national spirit thus composed is freedom from whim, flightiness, perverseness; patient fidelity to Nature,