HB Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN OUTLINES OP GERMAN LITERATURE BY JOSEPH GOSTWICK AUTHOR OF 'A HANDBOOK OP AMERICAN LITERATURE' EGBERT HARRISON LIBRARIAN OF THE LONDON LIBRARY WILLIAMS AND NORGATE 14 HENRIETTA STKEET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON AXD 20 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH 1873 All right! reserved In preparation. PAEZIYAL AND OTHER POEMS. BY JOSEPH GOSTWICK. TO THOMAS CAELYLE THESE <<>utiinc of German literature ARE BY PERMISSION -t rex JL V- *-' ''C^ '..Jrio' PBEFACE THESE OUTLINES are designed to supply a want which the wide-spreading study of the German language and its literature has created. Though this study has rapidly ad- vanced in England during recent years, it has been mostly confined to the writings of modern authors, and many readers may still ask for a book giving a general view of the literature of the German People from the earliest to the latest times. These Outlines extend from the year 380 A.D. to 1870.. More than thirty years have passed since Mr. CAKLTLE wrote : ' Germany is no longer to any person that vacant land of gray vapour and chimeras which it was to most Englishmen, not many years ago. One may hope that, as readers of German have increased a hundred-fold, some partial intelligence of Germany, some interest in things German, may have increased in a proportionably higher ratio.' If these words were true in 1838, with how much greater force may they be applied to the present time ! The German language is now studied in all our best schools and colleges, as well as at the universities, and is one .of the subjects given by examiners to candidates for the Civil Service. ' Where a knowledge of German is rated so high,' says Prof. MAX MULLEE, ' it is but fair that the examiners should insist upon something more than a vi PEEFACE. conversational knowledge of the language. . . . Candi- dates may fairly be required to know something of the History of German Literature.' It may be asked, why have we not translated one of the best of many German books on the History of German Literature ? The reply is, that, in some instances, they are too extensive ; in others they are rather critical than narrative or descriptive, and are designed for readers who already have some considerable knowledge of the subject. The work now offered to English readers is moderately com- pendious, and while many critical remarks may be found in its pages, its general character is descriptive. As far as is possible, writers of various schools and of several periods are here allowed to speak for themselves. In several of the quotations given, the form of abridged translation is used, in order to gain more breadth of outline. With the exception of two or three stanzas (from hymns noticed in Chapter XL), no translations, either in prose or verse, have been borrowed. The translations from minor poets, which may seem numerous, are intended to give a fair representa- tion of German poets of the second class writers whose genius is truly poetic, though not comprehensive, and who have especially excelled in their lyrical ballads. It is not long since a notion prevailed, that a review of poetical literature, with a few brief notices of history and biography, might be accepted as the history of a national literature. But theology and philosophy are, though not immediately yet closely, united with general culture, and we have, therefore, made no attempt to evade the difficulty attending the treatment of these subjects. Our work would indeed have been lighter if we could have declined the task of giving an account of recent German literature especially its theology and philosophy. PREFACE, vii In these sections we have viewed as useless the observance of reticence respecting the negations of Rationalism. The fact is, that they are already well known in England, as they were, indeed, more than a hundred years ago. In negative criticism, as applied to both theology and philo- sophy, German writers have been industrious as in all other departments but they have said nothing as negative as the doctrine to be found in Hume's works, written before 1 760. What is now called rationalism was common in England before that date, though it is sometimes spoken of as the sole result of German philosophy.* In Modern German Literature all the parties engaged in polemic theology, and in the present controversy of free- dom against external authority, are fairly and very strongly represented. As far as our limits would allow, we have endeavoured to let all Catholics, Mystics, Lutherans, Pietists and Rationalists speak for themselves. The assertion, that everything that has been called German Philosophy is ' Atheistic,' is nothing less than an untruth, and we have endeavoured to make this clear. * ' It is come, I know not how, to be taken for granted by many per- sons, that Christianity is not so much as a subject of inquiry, but that it is now at length discovered to be fictitious. And accordingly they treat it as if, in the present age, this were an agreed point among all people of discernment; and nothing remained, but to set it up as a principal subject of mirth and ridicule, as it were, by way of reprisals, for its having so long interrupted the pleasures of the -world.' This was written in 1736 by JOSEPH BUTLEE, author of the well-known book on ' The Analogy of Religion.' The passage is quoted here to correct the false notion that everything known as rationalism has come from Germany, and was invented there by ' the philosophers.' On the contrary, rationalism, under the name of Deism, was first imported from. England into Germany before the middle of the eighteenth century. For ample proofs of this assertion, see LECHLER'S ' History of English Deism.' The only new feature we can find in the materialism now fashionable in Germany is Mr. Darwin's theory of development. vili PEEFACE. The motive is, no doubt, very good, but, nevertheless, the effect is depressing, when young students are told that philosophers however sincere and however profound must always end in Atheism or Pantheism, if they think of more than finite and perishable things. The tendency of this kind of warning may go further than the monitor's good intention, and may lead to frivolity, as easily as to an abject and blind submission to authority. It is bad to teach young men to look down on the lowliest of their fellow- creatures, and it must be worse when they are taught to look with contempt on their superiors. We prefer to the narrow and controversial mind, now too prevalent in some departments of science and literature, the charity of LEIBNITZ, who could find some truth every- where. The literature of the time 1830-70 has not been treated with the freedom of criticism asserted with regard to pre- ceding periods. The reasons for reserve are obvious. In our study of the literature of our own age, we have no aid from criticism confirmed by the verdict of time. Many of the writers named in our later chapters are still living, and their reputations have still to be tested. For the account here given of recent literature, no respect is claimed more than what is due to a careful statement of facts. LONDON LIBRARY, 12 ST. JAMES'S SQUARE : March 25, 1873. CONTENTS. F1SST PERIOD. 380-1150. CHAPTER I. PACK Introductory High and Low German Gothic Old High German Middle High German New High German Characteristics of German Literature The Seven Periods of its History . 1 Ulfilas Kero Otfried Notker . . . .9 SECOND PERIOD. 1150-1350. CHAPTER II. The Times of the Hohenstaufens Chivalry The Crusades National Legends, the ' Nibelungenlied ' and ' Gudrun ' East Gothic and Longobard Legends . . , .14 CHAPTER III. Romances of Chivalry and other Narrative Poems : ' Parzival,' ' Tristan,' ' Der arme Heinrich ' Carlovingiau, Antique, and Monastic Legends, Popular Stories ' Reynard the Fox' . 25 CHAPTER IV. Lyric and Didactic Verse The Minnesingers Prose . . 45 THIRD PERIOD. 1350-1525. CHAPTER V. The later Middle Ages Towns Guilds The Master Singers Narrative and Lyrical Verse The Drama Prose Fiction . 66 CHAPTER VI. Satires Comic Stories Brandt Geiler Murner . 79 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. PAGE Chronicles of Towns Didactic Prose The Mystics Tauler ' Der Franckforter ' . . . . . . . 89 FOURTH PERIOD. 1525-1625. CHAPTER VIII. Characteristics of the Time Ulrich von Hutten Luther . 96 CHAPTER IX. Theologians : Berthold Zwingli Mathesius Arndt Agricola Franck Bohme Historians : Turmair Anshelm Tschudi Kessler -Bullinger Lehmann Theobald. Art and Science: Diirer Paracelsus . . . .107 CHAPTER X. Lutheran Hymns Hans Sachs Valentin Andrea Ringwaldt Waldis Alberiis Rollenhagen Spangenberg Fischart The Drama Manuel Rebhuhn 'The English Comedians ' Heinrich Julius Faust Weidniann Wickram . . 120 FIFTH PERIOD. 1625-1725. CHAPTER XI. The Times Opitz and his School Lutheran and Pietistic Hymns Secular Lyrical Poetry Didactic and Satirical Verse The Drama Popular Songs and Ballads . . . .136 CHAPTER XII. Prose Fiction History The Thirty Years' War Travels Letters Didactic Prose Pietism Leibnitz Wolf . 152 SIXTH PERIOD. 1725-70. CHAPTER XIII. Characteristics of the Time Literary L T nions The Swiss-Leipzig Controversy Gottsched- Bodmer Breitinger The Fable- Writers Haller Hagedorn The Saxon School Gleim and his Friends Hymn-Writers Prose-Fiction . . 167 CHAPTER XIV. Frederick II. of Prussia Historians Popular Philosophers Rationalists Writers on ^Esthetics Winckelmann . .181 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER XV. PACK Klopstock Lessing Wieland . . . . . 195 . SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. CHAPTER XVI. The Time of Goethe's Youth Religion Politics and Literature ' Sturm und Drang ' Hamann Jaeobi Herder . . 221 *^ CHAPTER XVII. ' Gotz ron Berlichingen ' ' Werther's Leiden ' The Men of ' Sturm und Drang' The Hainbund Prose "Writers Kant . . 237 CHAPTER XVIII. 4 Egmont ' ' Iphigenia ' ' Tasso ' ' Hermann and Dorothea ' . 252 CHAPTER XIX. Goethe's Lyrical and Occasional Poems Songs Ballads Refer- ences to Autobiography Odes Elegies Epigrams and other Didactic Poems ...... 270- ^ CHAPTER XX. 4 Faust '........ 283 I CHAPTER XXI. Schiller . ...... 30(> CHAPTER XXII. Schiller's Writings : ' The Robbers ' ' Fiesco ' ' Intrigue and Love ' ' Don Carlos ' Historical Studies -^Esthetics Bal- lads Lyrical Poems Poems on the History of Culture Later Dramas : ' Wallenstein ' 'Maria Stuart ' ' The Maid of Orleans ' ' The Bride of Messina ' ' Wilhelm Tell ' .316 CHAPTER XXIII. Schiller's Cotcmporaries : Jean Paul Minor Poets Prose Fiction Low Literature the Drama .... 338 CHAPTER XXIV. The Romantic School . . . . . . 361 CHAPTER XXV. The Eomantic School (continued} , . . 388" CHAPTER XXVI. The War of Liberation (1812-15) Patriotic Statesmen Philo- sophersPublicists Poets The Suabian School of Poetry . 421 xii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXVII. . PACK Goethe's latest Works Eiickert Platen Heine . . . 440 CHAPTER XXVIII. (1800-30.) July 1830 Progress Retrospect of 1800-30 Fichte Schelling Hegel The Hegelian Method Logic Nature Mind Philosophy of History Freedom Religion Morals and Politics Esthetics '.,.,. . . . . 459 CHAPTER XXIX. Philosophical Controversies Herbart Schopenhauer Baader The Hegelian School Materialism .... 485 CHAPTER XXX. (1830-70.) Young Germany Political Poetry Austrian Poetry . . 503 CHAPTER XXXI. Poems : Epic Dramatic Lyrical Hymns The Poetry of Domestic Life . . . . . . .517 CHAPTER XXXII. Kecent Prose-Fiction: Village Stories Realistic Romance Tales of Travel and Adventure Inane Fiction Romances with Social Tendencies Historical Romances Novels and Short Stories Domestic Stories . . . .529 CHAPTER XXXIII. (1770-1870.) Special Literatures : The Physical Sciences Geography Voyages and Travels Biography History National Economy and Social Science Education Philology, Literary History and ^Esthetics ....... 544 CHAPTER XXXIV. Ecclesiastical History Theology and Religion . . . 563 CHAPTER XXXV. The Three chief Divisions of German Literature The Seven Periods and the Present Time Modern Realism Materialism Controversy Poetry and Reality Conciliation Schiller and Prince Albert The Literary Union of Germany, Eng- land, and America . ..... 576 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. CHAPTEE I. 1NTRODTJCTOHY HIGH AND LOW GEEMAN GOTHIC OLD HIGH GER- MAN MIDDLE HIGH GERMAN NEW HIGH GERMAN CHARACTER- ISTICS OF GERMAN LITERATURE THE SEVEN PERIODS OF ITS HISTORY THE FIRST PERIOD : ULFILAS KEHO OTFRIED NOTKEB. THE PEOPLE who now occupy the greater part of Central Europe and, in race and language, form one nation, have since the twelfth century called themselves ' die Deutschen.' The name ' German ' itself not German, but, like ' Teuton/ borrowed from Latin is sometimes employed to include not only ' die Deutschen ' of Central Europe, but also, and with regard to their common origin, the people of Holland, the English, and the Scandinavians. As com- monly used in England, however, the word ' German ' includes only the people whose literature belongs to the High German language. Down to the time of the Reformation Low GEKMAN was the written language of the districts bounded on the north by the Baltic and the North Sea, and on the south by a line drawn from Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) through Bonn, Cassel and Dessau to Thorn on the Vistula. One of the more obvious distinctions of High and Low German is found in the consonants, which, in the latter, mostly resemble the English. Thus we have in Low German, t, k, and p used respectively instead of the High German s, ch, and /. Low German, with which English, the language 2 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. spoken in Holland, and the Scandinavian languages are all closely connected, declined rapidly in its literature soon after the Refor- mation. HIGH GERMAN, in the course of time, from the sixth century to the present, has passed through changes so extensive as to divide it into three forms Old, Middle, and New High German which may be practically styled three distinct languages. The first pre- vailed in literature from the sixth century to the eleventh ; the second from the Crusades to the Reformation ; and the third was established by Luther's translation of the Bible (1522-1534). The first of these languages is now as difficult for a modern German as King Alfred's English is for an Englishman of the present time, and, as Prof. Max Miiller observes, the Middle High German of WALTHER, a lyrical poet of the thirteenth century, 1 is more remote from the language of Goethe than Chaucer is from Tennyson.' "With respect to the times during which they were used in literature, the Old High German might be called Mediaeval, and the Middle High German might be distinguished as Later Mediaeval. In the transitions made from Gothic to Old High German, and from this language to Middle High German, the general tendency was to reduce both the number and the strength of inflections : in other words, to make the language less natural and sensuous. The Gothic, like Greek, had a dual number, and some distinct forms of the passive verb j though, like all German languages, it had only two tenses. In Gothic nouns the nominative, the ac- cusative, and the vocative are distinguished. In Old High German the vocative case, the dual number, and the passive form of the verb disappear, and the accusative is made like the nominative ; but the number of the vowels is increased, many abstract nouns are introduced by translators from Latin, and changes of consonants take place ; such as from t, k, and p to their respective substitutes s. ch. and f. This change is, as we have noticed, characteristic of {ill the three High German languages, as distinct from Gothic, Plattdeutsch, English, and the languages of Holland and Scandi- navia. A great improvement in verse was made during the Monastic, or Old High German period, by the substitution of rhyme for alliteration. In Middle High German the diminution of Gothic inflections was carried farther, and thus the language I.] MIDDLE HIGH GERMAN. 3 was rendered less cumbersome in grammar, and more fitted for easy use in conversation. Several very remarkable improvements were now made in versification. Its melody depended, not on a dull counting of syllables, but on both accent and quantity, and strict attention was paid to the purity of the rhymes. These characteristics belong chiefly to the poetical literature of the thirteenth century ; but that literature was reduced to a pitiable caricature of itself in the course of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. In those dark, yet not uninteresting times, literature became popular and prosaic, and verse was manufactured. Many illiterate men, who could not always count syllables correctly, and cared nothing for purity of rhyme, set up joint-stock companies for making ' poetry,' and produced bales of that sort ' which neither gods nor men can tolerate.' We may add, that the Middle High German differs from the Modern more in its forms than in its sounds ; so that the reader who is puzzled by the appearance of a few lines from a song written in the thirteenth century, will sometimes understand them as soon as they are read aloud. The chief characteristic which has been preserved, through all its changes, by the German language, is its independence. The root-words are few, in comparison with their wealth of deriva- tives and compounds. A German-English dictionary, to be useful, must be rather extensive ; but all the roots commonly used in Modern High German might be very readably printed in a small pocket volume. Instead of borrowing words from Greek, Latin, and French, in order to express new combinations of thought, German developes its own resources by manifold compositions of its own roots and particles. It is, consequently, a self-explanatory language, and the German student who knows little or nothing of Latin and Greek can trace the etymology of the longest compound words which he employs. In English, in order to express one thought in its various modifications, we use German, Greek, and Latin. In German, where the thoughts are closely related, the corresponding words have a family likeness. Consequently, while the German language is far superior to our own in originality, it does not admit such strong distinctions of diction as may be made between English-Latin writers, like Gibbon and Johnson, and authors like Swift and Bunyan, who wrote a purer English. The several States of Germany stand by no means on a level, with regard to their contributions to literature. The Nor; hern States 4 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. have been far more productive than those of the south, and, as a fact, it may be stated without any partiality, that, in almost all departments of learning, the Protestant States have excelled their Catholic neighbours. Of the Modern German Literature now spreading its influence throughout the civilised world, a remark- ably large portion belongs to Prussia and Saxony. Of one hundred and seventy authors who wrote during the period 1740-1840, sixty belonged to Prussia, about thirty to Saxony and Wiirtemberg, ten or a dozen to Bavaria and Baden, and very few to Austria. Of the nineteen universities of Germany, thirteen belong to Prussia and the North German Confederation. These numerous free institutions open alike to the rich and the poor are almost the only good results of the division of Germany into so many States. They were established by the nation itself, have been closely united with its literary and political history, and now form bulwarks for the defence of the empire. Pedants have too often reigned in these great schools for the people ; but let it always be remem- bered that Luther and Melancthon were German professors. In 1867-68, about fifteen thousand students were attending lectures at the German universities, and the number of professors or- dinary and others was about one thousand. It will not seem remarkable, therefore, that of the one hundred and seventy authors living between the years 1740 and 1840, about fifty were professors. To pursue the analysis a little further, it will be seen that twenty- two of these writers including Goethe, Miiller the historian, Karl vom Stein, the brothers Huinboldt, and Niebuhr were statesmen, while three were sovereigns. The greatest number of authors, including the best, arose, however, not indeed from the lowest, but from the middle classes, and were men who had been trained in the universities. It is hardly necessary to argue now, that a devotion to learning is not inevitably followed by a neglect of the duties of social and political life. Though Germany has had her own peculiar school of pedants men who, as Prof. Max Miiller has said, ' have been admirers of that Dulcinea, knowledge for its own sake ' the Germans have not become a nation of bookworms. Von Roon, the organiser of Prussian victories, began his career by publishing a handbook of geography for schools. Von Moltke was employed as a teacher before he planned the campaign of 1866. Schoolmasters prepared the way for the sueoess of 1870. There may still be I.] CHARACTERISTICS OF GERMAN LITERATURE. 5 found, especially among the Saxons of the north and the north- east, men of powerful build, light hair, and blue-gray eyes, re- calling the Teutons who refused to yield to Home. From those people of Holstein, Mecklenburg, Pomerania, Brandenburg, and East Prussia, have descended such men as Kant, Herschel, and Gauss in literature and science, and, in politics and warfare, Bliicher, Moltke, and Bismarck. The central Franks mostly Catholics in the hilly districts around Wiirtzburg and Bamberg, but Protestants in the plains have been, from the old times of the Hohenstaufen kings down to our own, well represented in poetry and the fine arts. The names of Wolfram, Frauenlob, Goethe, and Rtickert in literature, of Albrecht Diirer and Lucas Cranach in art, belong to the Franks. Thuringia, the home of poetry and music in the times of the Crusades, has hardly produced, since then, a poet of the first class ; but the great musicians, Bach and Handel, were natives of this district. Saxony and Silesia are illustrated by the names of Leibnitz and Fichte in philosophy : Flemming, Gerhardt, and Lessing in literature ; Schumann, Schnorr, and Lessing in art. The Suabians and the German peoples east and west of Switzerland may boast of such names as those of the Hohenstaufen kings ; of Kepler, Hegel, and Schelling, in science and philosophy ; of Melancthon and Zwingli in theology ; of Gottfried, Hartmann, Haller, Schiller, and Uhland in poetry ; and of Erwin von Steinbach and Holbein in art. The Bavarians and their neighbours the Austrians and the Tyrolese who have mostly remained Catholics, have not in literature and philosophy kept pace with the people of the Central and Northern States. As some compensation, the Southern Germans have had in music men like Gluck, Mozart, Haydn, and Schubert ; in poetry, Zedlitz, Auersperg, Gfillparzer, Stifter, and Blumauer; and in art, Schwanthaler, Stiglmaier, Schwind, and Steinle. It would be idle to attempt to characterise, in a few words, the men of even one of the States in a nation with a population of forty-seven millions; but a few traits commonly regarded as characteristic of the German people may be mentioned here. It is generally admitted that the Germans are less sensuous and passionate, and also less vivacious, than the peoples of Latin origin, to whom they are also inferior in ease of address and fluency of expression. On the other hand, many Germans of the 6 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. higher educated classes have been remarkable for their deep thoughtfulness, their perseverance in study, and their power of retiring from the world of the senses and resting in the world of their own thoughts. So Kant, who might have truly said, ' My mind for me a kingdom is,' lived to a good old age at Konigsberg, from which he never travelled many miles. And both Fichte and Hegel, though they wrote much on man's duties in society, taught that his highest life and enjoyment as Aristotle had already said must consist in self-knowledge and meditation. Such men as Kant, Fichte, and Hegel do not represent a nation ; but there must exist a strong thoughtful tendency in the people who have produced so many retired students great in philology, theology, and philosophy. Among more ordinary traits of the Germans may be noticed their free subordination, circumspection, caution, perseverance, and patience. The last two gifts they exhibit in their acquisition of foreign languages. The German in England listens and studies long, patiently submits to all the anomalies of our orthography, and then surprises us by delivering a lecture or writing a book in good English. The same qualities make him ready to obey, capable of ruling, and fully sensible of the truth that the first of these duties must precede the second. Industry, patience, and a love of order make the Germans, as colonists, inferior to none not even to the English and the Scotch. To notice briefly the most prominent external defects of German literature, it must be at once admitted that a neglect of clearness and beauty of style has too long been tolerated. Some apology may be made for the abstruseness of philosophical books. Deep thinking can hardly be made popular. A dry and uninviting style is not a proof of depth of thought ; but there is truth in Hegel's remark, that ' some writers and preachers, very popular on account of their clearness, only tell the people what they already know.' The ' obscurity ' found in Kant, Fichte, and Hegel may be partly ascribed to the problems they endeavour to solve ; but too many authors have written in an involved style on topics less difficult. The fault must be ascribed to themselves, and not to their language ; for while it allows, it by no means requires a complicated structure of periods. If an author is determined to write as few principal sentences, and to append to them as many phrases as possible before he makes a full stop, he I.] THE SEVEN PERIODS OF ITS HISTORY. 7 can do it in German without writing nonsense. His inflections of nouns and adnouns afford an advantage of which he too often makes an abuse. Another fault of some German authors ia the result of their virtues industry and perseverance exaggerated and made tire- some. The learned professor, in treating a topic, will refer to everything connected with it from the creation of the world down to the present time, leaving nothing unsaid that can be said about it. The Frenchman, too often, rejects all that cannot be rapidly understood and readily expressed, but gives the remainder in a fluent or brilliant style. The Englishman asks for facts of which he can immediately make some use, and cares little for the style in which they are conveyed. ' Good care has been taken that the trees shall not grow up into the sky,' says an invidious old proverb, and the divided characteristics of Germans, French- men, and Englishmen seem to support the saying. A union of German depth and French clearness with the Englishman's practical purport would have a high value in life as well as in literature. The history of German literature has been divided into seven periods, to which we venture to add an eighth, to include the literature of our own time. I. The First Period extends from the time 360-380, when a great part of the Bible was translated into GOTHIC, down to the eleventh century. After the migrations of the German peoples, their language was reduced by monks to the written form known as OLD HIGH GERMAN. In this language we have little more than a few heathen ballads and some translations of creeds, prayers, Latin hymns, and passages from the Bible. The literary character of the time, extending from the sixth to the eleventh century, was monastic. II. In the Second Period (1150-1350) a transition of language was made from Old to MIDDLE HIGH GERMAN, and at the same time literature found new patrons among the nobility and at the courts of princes ; especially in Austria and Thuringia. III. In the Third Period (1350-1525) literature cast aside as a worn-out fashion at courts and in the halls of the nobles found patrons among the townspeople. Verse lost its union with poetry, and assumed a didactic and satirical character, but 8 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. improvements were made in prose, especially in the writings of pious men known as Mystics. IV. In 1522-1534 LUTHER translated the Bible into German, and the general reception of that version established the language called NEW HIGH GERMAN. This is the most important fact in the literary history of the Fourth Period, included in the time 1525-1625. V. The Fifth Period (1625-1725) includes the deplorable time of the Thirty Years' War. It might, perhaps, have been credit- able to the German people if no light or imaginative literature had then existed. It was not a time for writing poetry, and, with the exception of some hymns, little true poetry was written, but great improvements were made in versification, especially by OPITZ and his followers. VI. The Sixth Period (1725-1770) includes n time chiefly noticeable for its literary controversies, and for the appearance of LESSING the herald of a free, national literature. VII. It is enough to say here of the Seventh Period (1770-1830) that it was the time of a general revival and expansion in litera- ture, art, and philosophy ; the time in which GOETHE displayed the wealth of his genius, and when SCHILLER, by his noble, ideal characteristics, as well as by his poetry, gained such a permanent grasp on the sympathies of his nation as the highest genius alone could hardly deserve. VIII. The prolific German literature that has appeared since 1830 does not belong to history. Many of its writers are still living, and their reputations have still to be tested by time. For any account we may be able to give of recent German literature, we claim no respect, more than what is due to a careful statement of facts. We profess to give merely the Outlines of German Literature. Omissions of many names must not be misunderstood as implying any want of respect for the unmentioned writers. Every plan of treating briefly the history of an extensive literature must have some defects when it is reduced to practice. If, in accordance with the views of some literary historians, we confined our attention to works of imagination, to poetry, epic, lyrical, and dramatic, and to prose-fiction as comprising the literature most clearly expressing the general characteristics of a people, we should leave unnoticed history, criticism, philology, and literary I.] ULFILAS. 9 history, as well as theology and philosophy departments of study in which German thought and learning have won the highest honours. On the other side, it may be truly said, that the distinct literatures of theology and philosophy must be studied, each in its true order and union, and cannot be fairly represented in fragments, scattered here and there among notices of popular literature. The essence of philosophy consists in unitive thought. It must be systematic, or it is nothing. The enquiries of such men as Hume, Kant, Jacobi, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Her- bart are all connected as links in a chain. It might seem easy to give, in isolation, a sketch of the practical philosophy of such a writer as Schopenhauer j but even that would be better understood by a reference to other writers to Kant and Hartmann, for example. These views might lead us to reject philosophy as a part of German national literature. But both theology and philosophy are, though indirectly, very closely united with national culture. The thoughts developed by the best writers in these departments may seem, for a time, to be confined to univer- sities and to the studies of learned men ; but they gradually find their way from one circle of society to another, until they exert an important influence on the education of the people. These considerations have led us to select the plan of giving, first, and in their historical connection, some notices of the general litera- ture of the German language, to which may be appended some outlines of the special literatures of philology, theology, and philosophy. The fragments that remain of the literature of the Gothic and Old High German languages all serve to tell one story, of a gradual spread of Christianity and of the establishment of the authority of the Church in Central Europe, from the fourth century after Christ to the eleventh. The Goths were the first Teutonic people who received Christian teaching. Their bishop, ULFILAS (318-388) translated almost the whole of the Bible into their language. A considerable part of his version of the New Testament and some fragments of the Old have been preserved, and on these venerable remains German philologists have based their knowledge of the Gothic language. For our knowledge of Old High German and its scanty literature, 10 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. we are mostly indebted to some studious brethren of tbe con- vents of St. Gallen and Fulda. We cannot wonder that these monks, who employed this language from the sixth to the eleventh century, endeavoured to destroy the remembrance of old heathen ballads that were inspired by a love of warfare and a spirit of revenge. Several fragments of those ballads which have been preserved to our times, prove that from such materials the closing scenes of tbe Nibelungenlied derived their savage character. In one old ballad the slain are every night recalled to life, that battle may be renewed on the following day. In another, warriors, after a hard fight, sit down and make grim jests on such injuries as the loss of a hand, a foot, and an eye. A third ballad describes a con- test between a father and his son. Legends like these were, how- ever, sometimes preserved by the monks, who found them useful as aids to the study of the people's language. Thus it happens that l he last of the ballads referred to above was preserved in a religious book of the ninth century, having doubtless been written down by n monk. KARL, the great German king (Charlemagne) was zealous for the culture of a national literature, and, in obedience to his will, a collection of old ballads was made. Though his son Ludwig consigned them to neglect, they were not entirely for- gotten, but lived among the people, and reappeared, with a change of dress, in the twelfth century. The Old High German language lived from the sixth to the close of the eleventh century. Fragments of translations from the Xew Testament, and of creeds, hymns, and monastic rules, written in German, prove that the monks had already partly done what Karl demanded. The two monasteries of St. Gallen and Fulda were the chief schools for the culture of a national religious literature. In the first, founded by St. Gall in 705, a monk named KERO, about 760, made an interlinear version of the Benedictine Rules, and translated, it is said, the Te Dcum, with other hymns ascribed to St. Ambrose. A translation of the Apostles' Creed, made at St. Gallen in the eighth century, shows that that symbol could then be expressed as concisely in German as in Latin. The Heliand, a Life of Christ, freely translated from the Gospels into alliterative verse, is believed to have been written in obedience to the com- mands of King Ludwig der Frornme (Louis le Debonnaire). It is in the Old Saxon language, and, while it gives hardly more than the letter of the Gospel, preserves some traits of heathen times. I.] OTFRIED NOTKEK. 1 1 Among the passages treated by the writer, we may notice his version of the prophecy of the end of the world, and the transla- tion of the narrative of the Nativity, which begins thus : ' They were watchmen who first were aware of it ; herdsmen, out in the field [and] guarding horses and cattle, saw the darkness in the air melt away, and God's light came gladly through the clouds and surrounded the watchers in the field. Then the men feared in their soul. They saw God's mighty angel come, and, having turned towards them, he commanded the herdsmen in the field : "Fear not for yourselves any evil from the light. I shall tell you, in truth, news very desirable and of mighty power; Christ the Lord, the Good is born this night in David's town, whereof the race of men may rejoice." ' The chief traits of the Heliand are its alliterative verse and its German epic tone both derived from old heathen ballads. These national characteristics are not found in the Krist, a rhymed harmony of the Gospels, which was written by a monk named OTFRIED (776-856), who, for some time, studied at Fulda. His work the oldest known in German rhymed verse is, as a narrative, inferior to the Heliand. The story is less popularly told, and is interrupted by reflections. The unknown author of the Heliand describes the end of the world as he would the close of a battle, and does not stay to moralize ; but Otfried, after telling how the Wise Men from the East returned into their own land, appends a homily, reminding Christians that this world is not their home, and exhorts them to prepare for another. Another production in rhymed verse, the Ludwigslied a lay on the victory of Ludwig III. (881) has been ascribed to a monk who died in 930 ; though it has the traits of a popular ballad. We are also indebted to monastic students for several Latin transla- tions of German ballads and of the stories of the Fox and the Wolf Reynardus and Isengrimus. The latter enable us to trace the well-known mediaeval tale of ' Reynard ' as far back as to the tenth century ; but its origin was in fact far earlier. We have already referred to one of the ballads translated into Latin as strikingly indicative of a delight in warfare. It may be noticed, in passing, that for our knowledge of the history of these times we are mostly indebted to Latin writers. NOTKER, surnamed Teutonicus, a monk of St. Gallen, who died in 1022, was the chief representative of German literature in his day. lie wrote translations of the Psalms and of some treatises by 12 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. Aristotle and BoetMus. His immediate successors were inferior writers : WILLIKAM, a monk at Fulda, who wrote a paraphrase of the ' Song of Solomon, ' and died in 1085, and the unknown author of a book on cosmography entitled Merigarto (the garden surrounded by the sea), which is written in rhymed prose. The eleventh century was a time of darkness, of which hardly any literary vestiges exist in German. During that time, and in the opening of the twelfth century, a transition was made from Old to Middle High German. In this language, FRAU AVA, who died in 1127 the first German authoress of whom we have any knowledge wrote a ' Life of Jesu.' Other important changes were coincident with this transition in language. The Crusades awakened the knighthood to a new life, governed by new ideas, and both the clergy and the nobility now became more distinct as castes. The clergy, by their neglect of German literature, loosened the bond that might have united them more closely with the people. Churchmen became more wealthy and more independent of secular support ; but, at the same time, weaker morally and intellectually, than the monks who had first preached to the heathen and opened schools at Fulda and St. Gallen. If their example had been generally followed, the progress of German civilisation and literature would, in all probability, have been more steady and satisfactory than that which we have to describe. But even in this earliest period we find the beginning of that separation of learned men from the general sympathies of the people, which was more remarkable in a later time. Literature was regarded rather as a world in itself than in its relation to the real world. Scholars, proud of their enlightenment, concentrated it in monastic cells. Learned men studied and wrote for their compeers, rather than for the people. While the uneducated hardly understood the simplest rudiments of moral truth, the scholastic divines of the middle ages multiplied subtleties, and exercised their intellects in the finest distinctions of doctrine. A barrier of language was raised between these two classes. Latin was the language of all respectable literature for some centuries. The romances and other poems produced during the age of chivalry form exceptions to the rule ; but it was main- tained, on the whole, so strictly, that even at the close of the seventeenth century the prejudices of the middle ages remained, I.] THE CRUSADES. 13 and the German language was then only beginning to assert its capabilities as a vehicle of literature. The Crusades were for the Church both a triumph and a failure. They served to increase its wealth ; but at the same time, to diminish its intellectual power. The knight became more promi- nent than the churchman. Literature, once confined to the monk's cell, was now transferred to courts and castles, and this change of residence was attended with new internal characteristics. The Church, firmly established, was less careful of the culture of the people, and monks no longer interfered in the making of ballads. The poetical literature that was one of the results of these changes in the Church and in society divides itself into two classes a people's literature of old legends, carried about by wandering ballad-singers, and a new literature consisting of songs and romances, and mostly patronised by the nobility. The people, unwilling to forget their old legends, found writers who revived them in a form suitable to compete with the foreign romances of the times ; but these revivals of heathen poetry were not generally acceptable to the higher classes. Their military spirit was now tempered with some elements derived from the Christian religion. The crusader, though a warrior, could hardly sympathise with such heroes as Hagen and Volker in the Nibelungenlied. 14 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. CHAPTER II. SECOND PERIOD. 1150-1350. THE TIMES OF THE HOHENSTAUFENS CHIVALRY THE CRUSADES NATIONAL LEGENDS : THE ' NIBELTJNGENLIED ' AND ' GUDRUN ' EAST GOTHIC AND LONGOBAKD LEGENDS. THE period included in the years 1150-1350 is characterised in German history, as in literature, as a time of transitory splendour, followed by an almost total eclipse. The fall of Konradin on the scaffold at Naples (in 1268) marks the time when a poetical literature having some refinement, but mostly confined to a class, began to decay. It was followed by its extreme opposite, the low and prosaic, but popular literature of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. It is hard to divest the times of which we now write of their dreamlike characteristics. Distance in thought has a greater power than distance of time. We find ourselves at home in the sixteenth century ; for there we meet the democratic movement, and the political and religious strife with which we are well acquainted in our own times. Going back, in imagination, another century, or rather more, we are still in an intelligible world, for the movement that promised something greater than the Lutheran Reformation was beginning. But when we come to the Hohenstaufen times, what dreamlike figures meet us there ! knights in armour, longing to expiate their sins by a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and ready to encounter hosts of Saracens ; yet amusing their leisure by composing and singing such over-refined and artificial verses as the Minnelieder; or in studying foreign romances, telling the adventures of Parzival, King Arthur, Tristan, and other visionary heroes. Realities were almost as dreamlike as these fictions. The Crusades were the acted romances of their time. The attempt to change the most internal and spiritual of CH. II.] THE TIMES OF THE HOHENSTAUFENS. 15 all religions into an affair of locomotion; with pilgrimages, bathings in the Jordan, and attacks on Saracens, was wilder than any legend of the Court of Arthur, and had less of a true religious purport than may be found in passages of Jhe ' Parzival ' romance as told by WOLFRAM. The Crusades indeed served a greater purpose than the development of commerce and civilisation. They inflicted a deep discouragement on externalism, and referred men back from Palestine and so-called ' holy places ' to the heart as the birthplace of religion. But of this great purpose even Walther, the best of the singers of Minneliedcr, hardly dreamed. He hints at some deep emotion when he tells us that he longed to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, as a means of gaining absolution, and 'a full release from all his sorrows,' but he goes no farther. From the time of the great emperor Karl down to the twelfth century, literature was left mostly to the care of monks ; but in the times of the Crusades the inferior nobility became the chief representatives of such culture as was patronised at the courts of princes, especially those of Austria and Thuringia. Townsmen were mostly occupied with the interests of their thriving com- mercial guilds. They encouraged art especially architecture but cared nothing for such poetry as the knights studied. The poets of the period cared as little for the pursuits of townsmen, or for any other realities of life. The wealth of the people was rapidly, increasing, thousands of serfs had become freemen, cities were rising and threatening feudal institutions, mines were discovered, and a taste for luxury and ornament prevailed among the towns- people. Their grand cathedrals at Ulm, Strasburg, and Cologne were the best ideal works of the age, and expressed thoughts nobler than we find in its literature. The themes selected by versifiers and poets were mostly foreign or antique. Legends of Arthur's Court were borrowed from France and Belgium, and Virgil's ^Eneid was turned into a mediaeval love-story. Of the contests of the Hohenstaufen rulers with the popes, of the anarchy of the interregnum, and even of the events of the Crusades, we find few traces in the contemporary German literature the battle- poems that appeared being reproductions of old national ballads. In their lyrics and their romances, many of the knights who wrote verses seem almost destitute of national feeling. When religious themes are introduced, they are mostly treated apart from all application to life ; but the ascetic character of some poems seems 16 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. as unreal as the love expressed in many of the Minnelieder. To read thoughts, we must turn away from poetry to the sermons of brother Berthold, and to the clear didactic prose written by the so-called Mystics. The best imaginative works of this time are the two national epic poems the Nibelungenlied and Gudrun, in connection with which we may notice briefly some less important national legends. The Nibelungenlied may be traced to the close of the twelfth century, when it was put together from materials furnished by far Ider ballads. The writer or compiler, whose name, after some guesses, remains unknown, derived the substance of his narrative from several legends preserved by popular tradition, strangely intermingled, and often changed in their purport. Of these he made a selection, and while he preserved well the characteristics of an age antecedent to the introduction of Christianity, he gave to his work certain superficial traits of the days of chivalry. For example, he tells of his two heroines attending mass, and mentions tournaments as pastimes of heroes ; but both Christianity and chivalry serve as mere drapery, under which the heathen character- istics of the old ballads are clearly visible. Like other long nar- rative poems of its time, the Nibelungenlied is wanting in an artistic union of its parts. It divides itself into two stories ; one ending with the death of Siegfried, the other closing with the fulfilment of Kriemhild's revenge of that death. When contrasted with the romances of the time, this national epic is distinguished by its good keeping of characters, by the absence of lifeless de- scription and forced similes, and by an orderly progress of events ; though many details of the narrative especially those of the closing series of battles seem tedious to modern readers. The following is a summary of the story, which we endeavour to give, here and there, in a style approaching the simplicity of the original : There lived at the castle of Worms on the Rhine, a princess of great beauty, named Kriemhild, the sister of King Gunther of Burgundy. In another fortress, situate lower on the same river, lived the hero Siegfried, the dragon-slayer, who had overcome in battle the mysterious and unearthly race of the Nibelungen, and had taken possession of their great hoard of gold and gems. In another adventure he had slain a dragon, and, by bathing in the dragon's blood, had made himself invulnerable, except in one II.] THE ' NIBELUNGENLIED.' 17 spot between his shoulders, where ' a stray leaf of the linden-tree had fallen and hung.' He then came to Worms to win the hand of the Princess Kriemhild, spite of a warning he had received that his love must end in grief. He was welcomed at Worms, and there distinguished himself in tournaments ; but was not intro- duced to the lovely princess for the space of a year. Meanwhile, however, he had won, at least, her admiration ; for when he was engaged, with other knights, in a tournament, Kriemhild, at the window of her chamber, would look with pleasure on the pastime, and smiled when he was the victor. At the end of the year, and when he had rendered military service to King Giinther, the hero was introduced to the princess, and they were soon afterwards betrothed. The story proceeds with the recital of a service rendered to the king by Siegfried that was of an extraordinary character, and seems to refer to some legend of northern mythology. There lived, we are told, far over the sea, at Isenstein, an Ama- zonian queen, called Brunhild, destined to become the wife of any hero who could prove himself her superior in martial prowess. This task was too formidable for Giinther alone. He sailed away to Isenstein, but took with him the hero Siegfried ; and, when the queen's challenge was accepted by Giinther, the dragon-slayer, who had made himself invisible by the use of a charm, gave such assistance to the king that Brunhild, greatly wondering, was com- pelled to own herself defeated and won in thp battle. She then \ came to Worms as Queen of Burgundy, and soon became jealous of the honours bestowed on the dragon-slayer and his bride. The enmity thus begun between the queen and Kriemhild soon rose to such a height that Brunhild secretly resolved on the death of Siegfried. To carry out her design, she appealed to the loyalty of Hagen, the sternest of all the Burgundian heroes Fierce Hagen of the rapid glances and represented to him that she had been grievously insulted by the dragon-slayer and by his wife. Loyalty demanded that the queen's wrong must be avenged ; but even Hagen, not daring to encounter Siegfried in an open and fair fight, and sacrificing good faith as a man to his loyalty as a vassal, stooped to a base act of treachery the most unpleasant, but perhaps not the least cha- racteristic feature in the whole narrative. He now pretended to be the devoted friend of Siegfried, and declared he would stand 18 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. by his side and protect him in an approaching battle. By Hagen's persuasion, the unsuspecting princess marked on her husband's coat the place between the shoulders where he was vulnerable. Hagen then invited the hero to join a party going to hunt wild boars in a neighbouring forest. In several passages of the story the dreams and forebodings of women are described as prophetic, according to the belief of the ancient Germans. At this crisis, when the dragon-slayer was hastening away at morn to join the hunting party, Kriemhild entreated him to stay at home. ' For I have had a dream,' she said, 'that two wild boars were chasing you along the wood, and the grass was wet with your blood ; and another dream, just before I awoke, that two rocks fell upon you as you walked along a dale.' But the dragon-slayer enfolded his wife in his arms and kissed her, to banish her fears, until she gave him leave to go. Then he hastened away into the great forest, where he had to meet enemies more formidable than the wild boars. There was a clear, cool spring in the forest, and the hero, warm with the chase, was stooping to drink when Hagen thrust a spear through his victim, just at the fatal spot which Kriemhild's own hand had marked. The body of the lifeless dragon-slayer was earned home, and Kriemhild, after recovery from her first violent sorrow, demanded the trial of the bier, in order to detect the assassin of her husband. Several heroes passed beside the bier, and when Hagen's turn came, drops of blood trickled from the corpse and silently accused the murderer. Now Kriemhild knew the man who had slain the hero-husband she had loved and adored, and her soul soon became as still as a pool frozen hard in the depth of winter. She had hitherto had but one bosom-thought love for Siegfried. She had still but one, but it was now revenge. Hagen should die, if all Burgundy must die with him. That was her resolution, and for its fulfilment she waited thirteen years and more. The first part of the story ends here and leaves Kriemhild in deep and melancholy seclusion at her castle of "Worms on the Rhine. Hagen, having feared lest she should, by a distribution of her wealth the hoard of gold and gems carried away from the Nibe- lungen raise a powerful party in her favour, carried away the treasure and buried it in an unknown place in the Rhine. This wrong also was endured in silence for thirteen years, and then the opportunity for revenge, so long waited for, presented itself to the II.] THE ' NIBELUNGENLIED.' 19 widow of the dragon-slayer. Etzel, the King of the Huns, sent one of his chief vassals, Riidiger, the noblest character in the story, to ask for the hand of Siegfried's widow. She cared nothing now for royal splendour, and had no wish to leave her solitude, but she resolved to accept a second husband as a means of avenging the death of the first. Accordingly she departed from Burgundy, and travelled with Rudiger and his escort into the land of the Huns. There she was hailed on the confines of Hungary by Etzel, who was accompanied by a host of warriors. ' 'Tis well,' said Kriemhild, when she first saw the army coming to meet her ; ' T shall have warriors now who will avenge my wrong.' A festival of several days followed her arrival in Vienna, and the beauty of their queen won enthusiastic praises from the chief vassals of Etzel ; but in the midst of all their splendid array her heart was still with Siegfried in his castle on the Rhine. A few more years passed away, and then the Queen of the Huns proceeded to carry her plan of revenge into execution. She persuaded King Etzel to invite King Gunther and his heroes into the land of the Huns. ' For,' said she, ' what will our subjects think of their queen, if my powerful kinsmen do not visit me ? ' When the invitation was received at Wor.ms, its purport was at once suspected by Hagen, who said to the king, ' Be assured that the wife of Etzel will seek to revenge the death of Siegfried.' Other gloomy forebodings were not wanting ; the king's aged mother, whose dreams had previously been prophetic, now dreamed that all the birds of Burgundy lay dead in the fields. But, in defiance of this bad omen, the king, with a host of followers, set out on his journey into the land of the Huns. After travelling some days, they arrived at Bechlarn, the castle of Rudiger,, by whom they were well received and entertained with great hospitality. Giselher, the youngest brother of King Gunther, was here betrothed to the fair daughter of Rudiger. When they left the castle of Bech- larn, their host gave a sword to the Prince Gernot and a shield to Hageu. As they rode away, Volker, one of the chief warriors, who was also a minstrel, tuned his fiddle' and sang a cheerful farewell song : And little thought their host, as they rode along the shore Of the Danube, that his eyes must greet his wife, his home, no more. When the Burgundians arrived in front of the palac^, or castle, o2 20 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. of King Etzel, the queen, with a cruel joy, was glad to see that Hagen had come with them. It was soon noticed, as another bad omen, that when she received her kinsmen, she gave a kiss to none save Giselher, the youngest prince, who had taken no part in the death of the dragon-slayer. When Hagen observed this, he instinctively fastened his helmet more tightly. His fears of an attack by surprise had been mentioned to his friend, the hero Volker, and when all the other Burgundians went to rest in the vast halls of the castle, these two warriors stood all night as sentinels in the courtyard, and Volker, with a sure foreboding of the coming events that were now casting their shadow over him, sang fearlessly the death-song of the royal race of Burgundy. But some days passed away without any outbreak of enmity, except in a conversation of the queen with Hagen. Then a grand banquet was prepared ; but while Hagen and many of his friends were feasting in one of the halls of the castle, an attack was made on the Burgundians assembled in another apartment. The news reached Hagen when he was seated at the royal table. He rose, drew his sword, and said, ' Now we drink a health to the dead, and in the king's own wine.' With these words of dreadful pur- port he smote off the head of Etzel's youngest son. This was the signal for the beginning of a series of desperate hand-to-hand battles and duels ; but the noble hero Riidiger refused to take any part in the warfare. His fidelity was due to King Etzel ; but he had sworn faithful friendship to King Gunther and his men, whom he had led into the land of the Huns. The conclusion of the poem is dreadful, but the tale of carnage is relieved by the conduct of the hero of Bechlarn. There was a severe contest in his heart when his queen commanded him to call his followers to arms against his friends the Burgundians, whom he had lately entertained in his castle. ' Take back,' said he, to King Etzel, ' whatever you have given me, but set me free from this service.' Etzel might have relented now, but Kriemhild must have, at least, the life of Hagen, and as all the Burguudians are bound together by loyalty as one man, her commands cannot be obeyed without a general slaughter. She is, moreover, the queen, and Riidiger must obey. He commended his wife and his daughter to her care, and then went forth to battle against Gunther, Hagen, and' their companions. ' God forbid,' said King Gunther, when the purport of Riidiger's coming was told, ' that I should draw II.] THE ' NIBELUNGENLIED.' 21 my sword against you, the friend by whom I have been led into this foreign land.' ' I bitterly repent that I ever led you hither,' said the hero of Bechlarn, ' but I must obey my queen.' ' Stay ! ' said Hagen ; ' the good shield you gave rne at Bechlarn has already stopped many thrusts, but is now shattered.' ' Then take my own shield,' said brave Riidiger ; ' and may you carry it home safely to Burgundy, for I have no wish to live after this. And now, the queen must be obeyed. Defend yourselves ! ' In the combat that followed Riidiger fell under a sword-cut from the weapon he had lately given, as a pledge of long friendship, to the Prince Gernot. When Dietrich of Berne, another of Etzel's chief vassals, heard of Riidiger's death, he sent his hero, Hildebrand, to assemble new forces and attack the Burgundians. After a des- perate conflict Hildebrand returned alone to call for the aid of Dietrich. At last King Giinther and Hagen the sole survivors now of all the Burgundian company were exhausted by long fighting and made prisoners. The king was placed in confinement, while his last warrior was led into the presence of the queen. ' Restore to me,' said she, ' my Nibelungen treasure.' When Hagen refused and still defied her, she gave commands that King Giinther should be put to death. Then, turning to Hagen, she said, ' I have still one precious relic Siegfried's own sword ; ' and, drawing it from its scabbard, she with one blow beheaded the wounded and exhausted prisoner. The hero Hildebrand, enraged to see such a warrior perish by the hand of a woman, forgot for a moment that she was the queen, and the death of Kriemhild by the hand of her own vassal ended the tragedy. All the sorrow that followed at the court of King Etzel and in many bereaved families is told. in iheKlage (Lamentation), an inferior poem of the twelfth century. Such is the story of the Nibelungenlied. Though its concluding scenes are extremely savage and lie beyond the pale of our sym- pathies, this old epic developestwo motives that command admira- tion. The first is the long-enduring love of Kriemhild. In Siegfried she had known a hero who, possessing supernatural power in addition to his personal beauty and his steadfast kind- ness, seemed to her of more value than a whole host of mere warriors like Hagen and Volker. For his sake she mourned long years in solitude ; to avenge his death she married an alien king and sacrificed her own nearest relatives. Such power and endu- 22 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUKE. [On. ranee of will commands admiration, even while we deplore its devotion to no higher purpose than that of revenge. The other noble motive that controls all the chief events of the narrative is that of loyalty unconquerable. Not to gratify any personal spite, nor to gain any selfish advantage, did Hagen slay Siegfried ; but to avenge a wrong believed to have been inflicted on the queen. In good faith, and all bound together as one man by the principle of mutual loyalty, the Burgundians go into the land of the Huns. They go because they must, though they have gloomy forebodings of the result. However erroneous in the purposes to which it may be devoted, the power that binds men together so deeply and closely, and makes them all one in facing an enemy, will be both honoured and formidable as long as the world endures. Kriemhild wishes to slay one man, Hagen ; but he is one of a stern union of heroes, and if he must die, the king and all the chief warriors of Burgundy must die with him. That is the thought that lifts into the realm of high tragedy some passages even of the terrible closing scenes of the Nibelungenlied. They describe a fearful slaughter attended with hardly a trace of any personal hatred. The heroes fight like lions, but wail like women or children over the slain. * That sorrow ever follows love ' is the key-note of the tragic epic above described. That constant love is at last rewarded is the sentiment prevailing throughout the epic poem of Gudrun. With regard to its conclusion, it is related to the story of Kriem- hild's revenge as ' All 's well that ends well ' is to ' Othello ; ' while, in other respects, it may be said that Gudrun is to the Nibelungenlied what the Odyssey is to the Iliad. The prevalence of domestic interest, the prominence given to the characters of women, the unity preserved throughout the long story, and several improvements in style, might all lead us to ascribe the authorship of the poem to a later time than the middle of the thirteenth cen- tury, when it seems to have been known as a modified reproduc- tion of some far older narratives. It is divided into three parts, of which the last only is devoted to the adventures of the heroine Gudrun. The best feature of the poem is that, in its conception of love, it is higher and more comprehensive than many poems and romances of later times ; for the union of Herwig and Gudrun is more truly characterised by sincerity, constancy, and patience than by passion. The Princess Gudrun, we are told, was betrothed II.] ' GUDRUN.' 23 to Prince Herwig of Seeland ; but, during the absence of her father, was carried away from his realm on the shores of the Baltic, and was taken to Normandy by the piratical Prince Hart- mut and his attendants. These robbers were soon pursued by the bereaved father and his followers, and a sternly contested battle took place on a part of the coast called the Wulpensand. So fierce was the fight that, ' when the evening-redness had died away in the western sky, it seemed to be shining out again in the glitter- ings of many swords striking fire from the helmets.' Hettel, the father of the heroine, was slain, with many of his followers ; but his chief warrior survived and went home, there to wait until he could raise a new army strong enough to invade Normandy. Meanwhile the heroine remained a captive on a foreign shore, and steadfastly refused to give her band to the pirate Hartmut, who was so far honourable that he would wait for her consent. He waited long in vain, and his mother, Queen Gerlint, was so enraged at this treatment of her son, that she degraded Gudrun to the rank of a menial, and especially employed her in washing linen. It was a bleak, frosty morn in March, and the captive princess and some companions were hanging out white linen in the breeze on the sea- coast, when her betrothed and her brother with many followers landed from their vessels and came to her rescue. A recognition followed, but King Herwig refused to steal away his bride. He waited until night came on, and then followed a battle by moon- light, in which the men from the Baltic gained the victory. A reconciliation and happy conclusion soon followed. It must be evident from these outlines that the interest of the old epic depends rather on its scenery and its delineations of character than on its plot. The scenery is fresh, and indicates that a part of the story had its origin among a seafaring people ; the charac- ters are, on the whole, distinct and well preserved, and the senti- ments are frequently more chivalrous and Christian than such as are found in the Nibelungenlied always excepting the passage where the noble Riidiger goes to fight with Hagen. Several national legends of which versions probably existed in the thirteenth century, and which were partly included in the ' Book of Heroes,' edited in the fifteenth century, may be here briefly noticed. Their merits are by no means such as to rank them with ' Gudrun ' and the Lay of the ' Nibelungen.' In Biterolf and Dietlieb we find some ill-connected fragments of old legends 24 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. treated in the style of the Hohenstaufen times. We have two legends under the title of Hosengarten. In one of them a fighting monk named Islan is the most original character. In the other the hero Dietrich defeats a formidable dwarf, Laurin, whose pre- ternatural power is dependent on his keeping safe a magic ring. The end of the story is prosaic. Laurin, after losing his ring, is compelled to earn his livelihood by honest labour. This was the author's notion of punishment and degradation. Another East- Gothic legend tells how Dietrich, after slaying a giantess, was imprisoned in a tower by the widower giant Sigenot ; but was released by Hildebrand ; net, however, without the aid of a dwarf. The Eckenlied tells of a duel of two days' duration fought between Dietrich and a giant, and we find the same hero, still fighting, in several other stories of the same class, of which one of the longest is the ' Battle of Ravenna.' Warfare for the sake of warfare, or to win the favour of princesses, and adventures with dwarfs and giants, supply the chief materials for the wild stories of King Rather, Ortnit, Htigdietrich, and Wolfdietrich, which seem to have been founded on some legends of the Longobards, but have the scenes of some of their adventures laid in eastern countries. In several of these stories the plot depends on the abduction of a princess. Such inferior works of imagination hardly deserve notice ; but they had once a high reputation, and were partly reproduced in the Heldenbuch (the ' Book of Heroes '), which passed through several editions in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. III.J KOMANCES OF CHIVALRY, ETC. 25 CHAPTER III. SECOND PERIOD. 1150-1350. ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY AND OTHER NARRATIVE POEMS : 'PARZIVAL,' ' TRISTAN,' ' DER ARME HEINRICH.' CARLOVINGIAN, ANTIQUE, AND MONASTIC LEGENDS POPULAR STORIES ' REYNARD THE FOX.' THE national epic poems already noticed deserve the priority we have given them on account of their distinctive German origin ; but they did not form the most characteristic literature of the thirteenth century. This was supplied by the romances of chivalry, mostly founded on Breton legends of King Arthur's court. The broad outlines of the original legend afforded plenty of space for the free exercise of imagination, and might be filled up with endless adventures, such as long, aimless wanderings, tournaments, duels, and enchantments, according to the fancy of the versifier. Arthur, a British prince, who lived, we are told, in the sixth century, and bravely resisted the English invasion, made his court the home of a noble chivalry. From its centre, formed by the Twelve Knights of the Round Table, champions went forth into all parts of the world in quest of adventures. It cannot be difficult to explain the attraction that such a theme had for the poets and versifiers of the thirteenth century, when we know that such a poet as Milton had great delight in reading the story of the Arthurian heroes, and meditated writing an epic on the myth of Arthur. The laureate of Queen Victoria and the versatile author of ' Pelham ' have been spell-bound by the same influence. The appearance of such romances as ' Parzival ' and ' Tristan ' in Germany, during the thirteenth century, was hardly more re- markable than that of the ' Idylls of the King ' in our industrial and commercial England of the nineteenth century. Men are imaginative and love freedom, and both freedom and imagination find an ample field of playful exercise in the adventures of the 26 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. knights of Arthur's court. In contrast with the unreality both of sentiment and manners found in most of these tales of adven- tures, the story of Tristan and Isolt but slightly connected with King Arthur's series of legends is marked by earnest passion, and may be described as modern in its tone, though it waa the favourite love-story of the middle ages. Other materials for romance were supplied by the Oral Legend, of which some account will be given in our notice of ' Parzival,' and by Carlo- vingian, antique, and monastic legends. Seldom has a contrast appeared in literature more striking than that presented to us in the two most remarkable romances of the thirteenth century ' Parzival ' and ' Tristan.' The former is cha- racterised in its best passages by moral earnestness, and sometimes approaches asceticism; the latter is gay and graceful in its narra- tive, but its purport is ' of the earth, earthy.' The former is often obscure, but, here and there at least, a ' light from Heaven ' shines out of the gloom. The main purport of ' Parzival ' is too often lost in a complication of many episodes. The poet's intention is some- times clear, but at other times we are led to doubt whether he ever even faintly dreamed of the high purpose ascribed by some able critics to his wild and weird romance. The most charac- teristic passages of the two stories suffice to bring out the remark- able contrast of the two poems. Their costumes and their adventures belong to the middle ages ; but their chief moral characteristics are for all time. The two heroes still have many representatives in the real world, and the opposite motives of the two poems are still contending in the hearts of many men. Parzival treats life as a discipline j Tristan would make it ' a perpetual feat of nectared sweets.' Tristan ' swims down with the tide of the world ; ' Parzival strives upward against it. The high purport ascribed to the graver romance, and the doubts that rcay be reasonably entertained respecting the author's own insight into such a meaning, both contribute, apart from its poetic merits, to increase our interest in the story. Mysterious lights shine here and there as we travel through the forest. The author, a poor knight named Wolfram, derived his materials from a French version of the two legends of King Arthur and the Oral. The lighter and, for us, the less interesting parts of the story belong to the former legend ; the more serious and mysterious passages are_ those which refer to the Oral legend. III.] 'PARZIVAL.' 27 But the two legends are strangely mingled, or, we might say, confused together, and, instead of attempting to explain the plot of their complication, we shall confine our attention chiefly to one part of the story. All that may be said here of the legend of Arthur's Court is, that Sir Gawein and other knights of the Hound Table here represent the splendour of worldly chivalry, ' the pride of life/ and the quest of high renown ; while the service of the Gral demands a victory over self-love, and a consecration of life to religious duty. This contrast, we may repeat, shines out clearly only in some of the best passages of the story. In others it disappears, and leaves us in doubt whether the author ever dreamed of it. Indeed, it may very fairly be said that there is scarcely, in the whole compass of mediaeval literature, a book harder to describe not to say explain than Wolfram's ' Parzival.' The following is a summary of* what may be called its central legend : The Gral was a chalice (sometimes mentioned as a platter), cut out of one rare chrysolite, and was first confided to the care of Joseph of Arimathea, after its use in Christ's last supper with His disciples. It ever afterwards retained a healing and life-giving power. To be appointed one of the guardians of the chalice was the highest dignity that could be conferred on a man. True penitence and humiliation alone could fit the heart for such service. For a long time after Joseph of Arimathea had brought the chalice into western lands no men were found here worthy of its guardianship. At last it was confided to the family of Titurel, of which Parzival was a descendant. The old King Titurel had built a temple for the reception of the Gral, and for its preserva- tion had founded an order of knights of the temple. Wolfram describes this shrine as a castle situate on the almost inaccessible height of Montsalvage. Parzival, who belongs by birth to the order of the guardians of the Gral, is left in early life without a father, and is brought up in deep seclusion in a forest, where he receives his sole education from his mother, a religious woman, who keeps her son in igno- rance of the world, and especially fears lest he should be seduced by the splendour of chivalry. She teaches him to fear God and to shun evil, but tells him nothing of his own noble ancestry. Her prayer for him is that he may live and die in obscurity. During his boyhood, spent in the forest, he submits himself well 28 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. to his mother's teaching, and seems likely, as a youth, to fulfil her hopes, when his character receives suddenly a new impress. He is made discontented with his life in solitude by meeting on the skirts of the forest three knights, who tell him something of the splendour of an unknown world. He can rest now no longer in the shade, but must go forth and see the bright scenes of chivalry of which the knights have told. Without knowing clearly the object of his own ambition, he escapes from his forest home, and goes to the court of King Arthur at Nantes. There his childlike simplicity excites the mirth of knights and ladies : but, after receiving some instructions, he gains distinction in chivalry ; among other exploits, rescuing a queen from the invaders of her realm. But, discontented with the reward of his valour, he wanders forth again, and travels far, urged on by a vague unrest, that cannot be appeased by any military success. One evening, after long wanderings, he finds himself near a lake in a secluded valley, where, in reply to an enquiry for a place of shelter, a fisherman, described as ' a melancholy man, yet richly clad,' directs him to a lonely castle as the only place where he may find entertainment. For Parzival has now arrived in a deep solitude a region where only knights of a certain high lineage are welcome. He goes to the castle, is readily admitted, and there witnesses a ceremony of a very mysterious character. In the spacious hall four hundred knights are seated around their king. Beautiful maidens, dressed in splendid robes, bring in lights and censers, and take their places near the throne, ready to bear part in some high festival. Last of all comes in a maiden of surpassing beauty and radiance, bearing ' the chalice cut from one rare chrysolite.' She places it before the king, who gazes devoutly on it, but must not taste its contents. Amid all the rich decora- tions of the ceremony a deep tone of sorrow prevails. Parzival gits in dumb amazement, unable to guess the meaning of the solemn rites which he beholds. The king seems to have been wounded, and when a page, dressed in mourning, enters and trails through the hall the spear, with blood on its steel, from which the king received his wound, the assembled knights bow their heads in lamentation. Through an open portal Parzival sees now, in an interior hall, ' an old, snow-white man ' seated on a couch, and apparently near his death. The wounded king ; the beautiful maidens richly attired and holding up the brilliant lamps j the III.] ' PARZIVAL.' 29 solemn company of knights ; the dying ' snow-white old' man ; ' the glory and the sorrow of the ceremonial all excite enquiry ; hut Parzival remains silent. He asks no question, even when the king calls him up to the throne, and presents to him a sword with an intimation that it is to be used in the service of the donor. After this the silent champion goes to rest. In the morning he rises, and finds a profound stillness within and all around the castle, and everything prepared for his departure. As he rides away down the dale, the seneschal, standing on a turret of the castle, calls after him, not to invite him back, but to reproach him for his diffidence in asking no questions. Soon afterwards he meets with similar reproaches from a woman whose husband has been recently slain in battle. She claims Parzival as a rela- tive, and, when she finds that he has been entertained in the Oral Castle, tells him that he has been guilty of a fatal error in not caring to know the meaning of the rites he has seen, and in neglecting to make enquiry respecting the wound received by the king. Amazed by these reproaches, the hero rides away, and, after passing through other adventures, returns to the court of King Arthur. Here he would gladly rest awhile ; but when he is seated in the hall an angry messenger from the Gral Castle arrives, and, in the presence of the assembled knights, charges him with unfaithfulness and neglect of duty. He leaves the court of Nantes, and again wanders far, finding no service worthy of the sword given to him by the wounded king. Meanwhile Sir Gawein and other knights of Arthur's circle are engaged in an adventure to loose the spell cast by an enchanter on the mansion ' Chateau Merveil ' and all its inmates. Parzival, alone, rides by the mansion, and hears the battle cry of the knights coming to its rescue, but takes no part in the fight. In the course of subsequent adventures, he meets again his old companion in arms, Sir Gawein, who is travelling, without knowing it, on the road that leads to the Gral Castle. A dispute arises between the two champions, and ends with a duel, when Gawein falls wounded by Parzival's sword. In another part of the story Parzival rescues Gawein, who has been attacked by a band of robbers. But neither these nor any other adventures of worldly chivalry give satisfaction to the heart of Parzival. He represents so far a man of heroic impulse who has no knowledge of hia own true destiny. For years he has wandered far in doubt, and now, 30 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. says the poet, believing ' neither in a God nor in any Providence/ he arrives, on a Good Friday, at the cell of a hermit, who also belongs to the lineage of the guardians of the Oral. The hermit explains to the knight the mystery that has hitherto attended his adventures. He tells him that the wounded king in the castle has made himself unworthy of his office by yielding to the seductions of earthly love. He has been fighting with no higher device than ' Amor ' on his shield, and that is not worthy of a guardian of the Gral. Now he awaits the coming of the true champion, who will announce his arrival by asking of the safety of the holy chalice. ' You,' says the hermit, ' have been in that castle ; you have seen the wounded king, who is your uncle and my brother. The maiden princess of surpassing beauty, who carried in the Gral, is your late mother's own sister, and the snow-white old man is Titurel, your ancestor, who is still there waiting for your arrival.' In the sequel of the story Parzival overcomes all difficulties, among other adventures vanquishing a band of heathen men and gaining the victory in a duel with the great heathen prince Feire- fiz from India, in whom he afterwards recognises his own half- brother. This recognition is one of the most beautiful parts of the romance. The two heroes go to the Gral Castle, where Par- zival is received gladly, and is crowned as King and Guardian of the Gral. The heathen prince Feirefiz falls in love, at first sight, with the maiden who carries the sacred chalice. They are married, and, after their return to India, they have a son, who, as 'Presbyter John/ rules over an extensive Christian state in the centre of Asia. So ends this wild and weird story. To state briefly our im- pression of it, on turning again and again to the more significant passages, we feel sure that they are symbolical, and include a second meaning. For example, that radiant princess who bears the Gral must be, it seems, intended to represent the spirit of Christianity. The Indian prince may be a symbol of heathenism, and his passion for the princess may be an expression for the vic- tory of the true faith. Such an interpretation would be supported by several passages of direct and plain religious purport ; but there are other passages that discourage attempts to find a deep or religious meaning in the story, and, with regard to its final lU.] ' TRISTAN.' 31 purport, the reader is left in doubts as profound as those of Parzival on his own true destiny. The poet speaks often with an earnestness and depth of feeling that is surprising in one of the Minnesingers. His genius is lyrical rather than epic, and sometimes rises to a bold, poetic strain. One of his characteristics is that, in several places, he refers to his own history, and more frequently to his own opinions; but his egotism is frank and not unpleasing. But for these pas- sages, the little that is known of his life would have been nothing. WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH was a poor knight and, as he con- fesses, could neither read nor write ; but he could speak French as well as German. Though complaining of his poverty, he betrays some pride of ancestry. His feudal lord was the Graf von Wert- heim, a pleasant little town situate at the junction of the Main with the Tauber; yet he calls himself a Bavarian. He survived his chief patron, the Landgraf Hermann of Thuringia, who died in 1216. From several passages in ' Parzival ' we may infer that the author was happily married and had children. He was acquainted with the minnesinger Walther von der Vogelweide. During Wolfram's lifetime his style was condemned by his clever rival Gottfried von Strasburg, who called it ' odd, dry, and obscure.' That Gott- fried could write more fluent verse was proved by his ' Tristan ; ' but ' Parzival ' survived this censure, found many admirers, and was printed in 1477. The poet's grave in the churchyard at Eschen- bach used to be shown to visitors in the early part of the seven- teenth century. We may add, for the benefit of students of old literature, that Simrock's translation of ' Parzival ' is remarkably faithful to the original. Whatever doubt may exist of the purport of ' Parzival,' there can be none respecting that of the rival romance, ' Tristan.' It may be given in few words nee dulces amores Sperne, puer, neque tu choreas, Donee virenti canities abest Morosa. GOTTFRIED VON STRASBURG wrote the romance of 'Tristan ' about 1207-10, or some six years after Parzival had gained a reputation ; and though he wrote twenty thousand lines, he died before the gay story was completed. He was, for his times, a well-educated mail, 32 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [n. but apparently did not belong to the order of knights, for he sub- scribes his name as Master Gottfried of Strasburg. In ease and fluency of versification, and in all the graces of style, he was the best German poet of his time. He could say lightly and cleverly whatever he had to say, and never troubled himself with any problems. He laughed at his more thoughtful rival, Wolfram, for sending out, under the name of a romance, a book that required a key or an interpreter. The author of ' Tristan ' describes well both the external features and the mental and emotional changes of his hero and heroine, and ably developes their characters in passion and in action. When judged by the standard of his own times, he must be commended for the good taste of which he gives proof in several passages, while treating a dangerous subject. He does not bewilder us by a multitude of ill-connected adventures. The con- struction of his story is comparatively good and clear, and his versification is harmonious, while it seems to be extemporaneous. His theme is ' Minne,' or Love ; but not in its refined meaning, which implies little more than kind remembrance. He writes the history of a passion out of union with the whole system of life and it" duties, of which a true love should be the soul and the centre. The love which is his therne is not that deep, quiet source of the power that endures opposition, submits to law, supports the burden of existence, establishes homes, binds together families, and or- ganises society ; but it is the egoistic and socially negative passion that would break all the bonds of duty, would reject all the claims of friendship and society, and prove itself as fatal to the true de- velopment of the individual as to the interests of the race. It is related to true love as the swift and transitory lightning and the destructive fire are to the genial glow of summer warmth and the expansion of light. Of this passion Gottfried makes Tristan and Isolt involuntary and helpless victims. It was, as he tells us, under the influence of an irresistible charm that both were van- quished. But while he tells their story as that of their fate, he hardly treats it as a tragedy. Their faithlessness and their trans- gression are described in a light and pleasant tone, and with an exuberant cheerfulness often reminding us of Chaucer in some of his Canterbury Tales. The tardy precautions of the wronged husband, King Marke, are treated in a style of humorous banter and satire that would not seem out of place in a modern French novel of ' the school of despair,' as Goethe called it. ' Women are III.] 'DEE AKME HEINRICH.' 33 all the true daughters of Eve,' says Gottfried ; ' she broke the first commandment ever given, and simply because it was a command- ment. She might gather as she pleased all the fruits and flowers of Paradise, with only one exception the parsous have certified that it was but a fig and it is my firm belief she would never have tasted that if it had not been forbidden.' This is but a tame example of the author's liveliness in both narration and reflection ; but for obvious reasons we must pass silently over his gayest passages. As he left the story unfinished, it has been, with extreme charity, suggested that he might, had he lived longer, have atoned for its levity by appending a moral; but he was too good an artist to be guilty of such a breach of continuity between the beginning and the end. Two inferior writers com- pleted the romance in the course of the thirteenth century, and afterwards honest Hans Sachs made a drama of it. It was the favourite love-story of mediaeval times. In modern times Im- mermann devoted his genius to a new version of the legend, but died, leaving it incomplete. Other poets have treated the subject so often that this brief notice of the story will doubt- less suffice for our readers. One of the best of the versifiers of Breton legends was HARTMANX VON AUE; but he was always unfortunate in his choice of a subject. Like Gottfried, who praised him very highly, he was an educated man, and possessed a talent that might be envied by reviewers ; for, as he tells us, ' he could read without fatigue any book that ever was written.' He seems to have joined one of the crusades. The author of ' Tristan ' speaks of Hartmann as still living in 1207, and adds, ' he can tell a story in words as clear as crystal' It seems certain that he died before 1220. His best poem, with respect to its style and form, is ' Iwein ; ' but its story is not attractive. The romance of ' Erek ' is the author's weakest production. In his tale of ' Gregorius,' though his purpose was good, he treated a subject that no skill could render even tolerable. The same censure may be applied, if we accept the judgment of Goethe, to the story of Der arme Heinrich which, however, has been highly praised by other critics. We are here told that a nobleman afflicted with leprosy was miraculously cured. The love of life had, however, proved itself so excessive in his case, that in order to obtain a cure, he had consented to the sacrifice of an innocent maiden's life. It is impossible to tolerate, even in D 34 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. fiction, the gross improbabilities assumed in the story ; but we must allow that its details are in some passages given with admir- able simplicity and pathos. The story runs as follows : There lived in Suabia a rich landlord, Heinrich von Aue, noted, during his prosperity, as much for his goodness as for his wealth. But the virtues that had made him a model while all men spoke well of him failed in his deep adversity, when he became a leper and was shunned by his nearest relatives. He had neither the faith nor the enduring power of Job. In restless quest of a cure for an incurable disease, he travelled to Salerno, then famed for its medical school. ' You are curable and, at the same time, in- curable,' said one of the learned doctors there ; and when Heinrich demanded some explanation of the paradox, it was added, ' Curable, because a medicine for you exists in theory ; incurable because the medicine cannot or must not be found. If a pure maiden, free from all constraint, would die for you, you might be cured ; but on no other condition.' Utterly disappointed, Heinrich returned from Salerno ; he sought for no victim to his own love of life, but left to the care of others all his wealth, and retired into a profound solitude, where he found lodgings in a mean farmhouse inhabited by one of his own poorest tenants. The devotion of this boor and his wife to the service of their landlord is well described. But their kindness was far exceeded by that of their only child, a girl twelve years old. The parents gave all the care and attendance their guest required ; but the fearless and innocent girl solaced his solitude, and gave the cheerfulness of her own heart to cheer him. The boor and his wife acted with some regard to their own interest ; for they feared lest, when Heinrich died, they should find his successor a harder landlord. When they urged him to try the skill of the doctors at Salerno, he recounted, in a tone of despair, the result of his visit to their school, and repeated all that had there been said to him. The little maiden, unobserved, was listening to the strange story. She retired to think of it, and dwelt upon it so earnestly, that she dreamed of it all night; and day after day she thought of it, until a marvellous resolution fol- lowed all her musings. She would die for Heinrich ! The author of the story says all he can to make this moral miracle seem in some degree probable. He refers to the girl's religious faith. She really believed there was such a place as heaven, and that life there was the only life worth craving. Then she thought of the III.] 'DEE ARME HEINRICH.' 35 prospects of her parents, and how their old age might be comfort- able if their good landlord lived, and was restored to health. The amazement and terror of the boor and his wife, when their child expressed her wish to die, are well told. ' Child ! ' said the mother ; ' you little dream what it is to die ! what it is to leave all we love here, and go to lie alone in a cold grave ! ' The mother sees only death in death, but the child sees the gateway of heaven. To persuade her parents to consent, she now talks too thoughtfully for her years of the vanity of life, and the cer- tainty of sorrow for one born in such a low condition as her own. If all that pious men have said of heaven be true, there can be no loss, surely, in going early to dwell there with a Divine Friend, Whose home no wants, no cares assail With hunger there no children wail ; None perish there from winter's cold ; Years never make the angels old ; And none can take their joys away ; While here your twelve months' scanty gain, Hard earned by all your toil and pain, May perish in a single day. She argues and pleads so long and so well, that another miracle follows her parents give their consent to her intended self- sacrifice ! But Heinrich, when it is offered, sternly refuses for a long time to accept it. Long pleadings follow, and the immode- rate love of life in the leper's heart gives still greater force to the arguments of the child. Then follows the most incredible part of the incredible story. The parents with their child and their afflicted landlord, go to Salerno. There the doctor or rather say, executioner first assures himself that the sacrifice is purely voluntary then lifts the fatal knife, while the maiden fearlessly lays bare her bosom. 4 But the sacrifice shall not be offered ! ' exclaims Heinrich, whose selfishness is suddenly melted. Already restored to soundness of mind, he returns with his poor friends into Suabia. On their way home he is miraculously cured, and at the same time, made to appear twenty years younger. The sequel may be guessed. He rewards the boor and his wife by making them free, and giving them a part of his estate. He calls together all his friends, who come to see him now. When they are assembled in his hall, he tells how he has been healed in mind and body by the devotion of a maiden, and then introduces her as D2 36 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. his betrothed. Their marriage forms, of course, the conclusion of this marvellous story, of which the style is better than the subject. It has a melody of words and a simple natural pathos that should have been devoted to the treatment of some tale that might have been believed. Hartmann follows the hero and the heroine to their grave, assures us that they went to heaven, and ends with a short prayer Such bliss as was their portion then May God bestow on us ! Amen. Of the Carlovingian legends of this time, versified by Germans, two may be briefly noticed : the ' Ilolandslied ' by Konrad, and the love-story of ' Flore and Blanscheflur ' by Konrad Fleck. The latter is very slightly connected with traditions of the great emperor Karl. The story of the former the hero of Roncesvalles, and of French legendary lore is enough to make a good ballad ; but hardly supplies materials for an epic. Roland, fighting against overwhelming heathen forces in Spain, defeats one host of foes, but another is soon mustered against him. At last, wounded and almost exhausted, he winds from his horn such a blast, that it sounds through all the din of battle, and far away to Karl's head- quarters. The emperor hears the signal, and hastens to rescue the hero, but finds him dead. Konrad's work seems to be nothing more than a dry translation of a French original. Among the romances founded on antique traditions, the 1 Alexander,' written by Lamprecht, a priest, is the most notice- able. The hero is represented as writing an account of his adventures in the East ; but seems to be no more restricted by a regard to facts, than his quasi-biographer Quintus Curtius. Among other prodigies related by Alexander in a letter to his tutor Aristotle, we find an account of a forest Where on the mossy turf there grew Large rose-buds beautiful to view Some as white as drifted snow ; Others had a ruddy glow. We gazed with wonder there, beholding Each its fragrant leaves unfolding ; For out of every flower-cup there Stepp'd a maiden young and fair, Rosy as evening skies and bright. In youth and joy, as morning light. Alexander, having conquered all the nations of the earth, and III.] MONASTIC LEGENDS. 37 etill in his ambition l insatiable as hell,' arrives at the gates of heaven, and intends to take it by storm. But an angel informs the hero that heaven is not to be won in this way, and exhorts him to return to his own country, and learn the virtue of self- control. Lamprecht was indebted to a French original, and con- structed his story with some art ; but we find little in his poem to justify all the praise bestowed on it by Gervinus. Another poem of the same class is the '^Eneid,' or 'Eneit,' as the author styles it, by Heinrich von Veldeke. It is a sentimental love-tale, made out of some parts of Virgil's epic, and has considerable merits with regard to style. The writer seems to have died at an advanced age, some time before 1200. Like Lamprecht, he borrowed his story from a French original. Of the Trojan war, by Konrad von Wiirzburg, we are hardly disposed to say more than that it con- tains sixty thousand verses. The ancient heroes here appear as knights of the middle ages. Christians fight bravely for the Greeks, and the followers of Mohammed are on the side of the Trojans. Konrad, who died in 1287, was an industrious writer and translator ; but his long stories betray under all their copious diction, a poverty of thought. His legends and short popular stories are better, and his ' Goldene Schmiede,' a lyrical poem in praise of the Virgin Mary, has been highly commended, but it is rhetorical rather than poetical. For want of original thought and true feeling, he seeks everywhere for similes, and finds too many. These decorations are externally connected with his theme, and do not arise naturally from its treatment. To use very plain words, they are stuck upon it. The author works like a mechanic in decorating his verses. The Christian or Monastic Legends of the time have an impor- tant historical interest ; but we find little of true poetry in their recitals of miracles. The ' Life of the Virgin Mary,' by Wernher, a monk of the twelfth century ; a ' Legend of the Holy Coat of Treves,' and ' The Childhood of Jesu ' by Konrad (not to be iden- tified with the versifier already mentioned) these and other works of their class mark the bare externalism of the times. No- thing less than a miraculous disturbance of nature seems to have been regarded as having any religious interest. The infant Jesu of Konrad's imagination plays safely with lions and dr.igons; forms clay models of birds, and makes them fly away ; goes to school and finds the schoolmaster unable to teach him, and enter* 38 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUKE. [Cn. a heathen temple where all the idols immediately fall down and are broken to pieces at his feet. Such stories as these were deplorable substitutes for the sermon preached on the hill near Capernaum. We have already referred to the legends versified by Konrad von Wiirzburg. His ' Alexius ' is a noticeable story in praise of celibacy and asceticism. In his tale of ' Silvester ' we find an account of an extraordinary controversy. The Pope argues in defence of the Christian religion against twelve Jews, and soon converts eleven. The twelfth remains obstinate, and to prove his thesis brings into the arena a wild bull ! By a mere whisper of one word belonging to the creed of Judaism, the animal is in a moment deprived of life. The Jews rejoice, and the Christians are for a moment depressed ; but Silvester challenges his opponent to restore the bull to life. In attempting this, the Jewish theo- logian fails and the Pope succeeds ; whereupon all the Jews present embrace the Christian faith ! The better legend of ' Barlaam and Josaphat ' is supposed to have been derived from a Buddhistic original. It was translated into German from a Latin source, which itself was a translation from the Greek, and its history belongs to the curiosities of literature. Its purpose, like that of the legend of Silvester, is to maintain the supremacy of the Christian religion ; but the arguments used by Barlaam are superior to those of the bull-reviving Pope. Two narrative works in verse may be noticed here, though they do not strictly belong to the class of legends. The first one of the best productions of the twelfth century is a poem intended to celebrate the virtues of Anno, the Archbishop of Cologne, who died in 1075, and was canonised in 1183. The author begins with the creation of the world, and gives a summary of ancient history before he describes the life of Anno. The Kaiserchr&nik is an inferior work, consisting of fragments of history (so called) oddly mingled with legends and fables. The compiler, who makes Tarquin reign after Nero, and perpetrates many similar blunders, is extremely severe in his censure of ' incorrect ' histori- cal writers. His chronicle was written, most probably, about the close of the twelfth century. In the fifteenth century we shall find coarse satire predominant in popular literature. The materials for such a literature existed in the time of which we are now writing. Mockery of all the III.J POPULAR STORIES. 39 pretensions of superior station, or learning, or piety, could now give a zest to the dullest story. Such satire was sometimes fairly directed against pride, hypocrisy, and pedantry ; but its success must be mainly ascribed to the fact, that it appealed to the common and powerful motives of egotism and envy. It was ' a levelling down ' that delighted the vulgar. So, in ' Salomon and Morolf ' a tale reproduced in the fourteenth century from a Latin original the writer tells, with glee, how a coarse and abusive boor, Morolf, made a fool of Salomon ! The king to whom all wisdom was given was so unwise as to hold a long controversy with the fool. They differed especially in their respective esti- mates of the virtues of women. ' Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh,' says Morolf ; ' you are always think- ing of your wives and concubines, and therefore you are so eloquent in their praise.' Salomon now recites his own fine chapter from the Book of Proverbs in praise of a virtuous wife ; but Morolf declares that it is a mere fancy-sketch, and utters, as a contrast, a series of coarse and indiscriminate libels on women. He reminds the king that, at the creation, God looked on all the works that He had made, and saw that they were good ; but that, after woman was made, the earth was cursed. At this juncture, Nathan the prophet interposes, and prudently advises King Salo- mon to cease from further argument with Morolf. The king replies by quoting one of his own proverbs ' Answer a fool according to his folly ' and then prosecutes the argument. At last, fatigued by the boor's impudence and pertinacity, he declines to go on with the discussion, and Morolf, of course, claims the victory. But an insurrection of the king's wives and concubines follows, and, in obedience to their demand, the fool is condemned to be hanged. In recognition of some alleviations of royal ennui afforded by Morolf s broad humour, the king gives him the privi- lege of selecting the tree on which he will be suspended. Accord- ingly the executioners lead the fool through the Valley of Jehoshaphat, to the Mount of Olives, all the way down to the Dead Sea, and into Arabia ; but nowhere can he find a suitable tree on which to be hanged ! The result is, that the king pardons Morolf, who thus, by his folly, triumphs over the wisdom of Salomon, and secures for himself a place in mediaeval comic literature. Among several narratives in verse which cannot be easily 40 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. classified, the story of ' Meier Helmbreeht ' deserves notice, because it gives some account of the manners of the common people, of which we find hardly a trace in the romances of chivalry. It lets us see some of the realities of life which existed at the time when the minnesingers lived, and it prepares us for some characteristics of literature in the fourteenth and fifteenth century. The author of the tale, WERNER DER GARTEN ABE, was an Austrian, and lived about the middle of the thirteenth century. He tells the story of the prodigal son of a boor, who, urged by his dislike of hard work and poverty, goes forth, despite the entreaties of father and mother, to seek his fortune in dishonest ways. After many disreputable adventures, he comes home, so changed that he must give proof of his identity before his father will entertain him. He expresses his contempt of all lowly and honest occupations, seeks to win admiration by talking very bad French, insults his parents, jind persuades his vain sister to elope and marry the leader of a gang of thieves. After another expedition he comes home again, but now blind and lame, and in great distress. The father sternly refuses to receive him ; but the mother still supplies the prodigal with food. His depredations, however, have excited such indignation in the neighbourhood, that a party of boors take the law into their own hands, and, after a very short trial, he is condemned to death and is hanged upon a tree. All this is told in a simple but graphic style, and the author ends with an earnest warning against contempt of parents. As the minnesingers and romancists of chivalry gained money by their songs and recitations, it was inevitable that their example would be followed by men of lower degree ; ballad-singers, who travelled from one village to another, and frequented fairs, where they sang or recited stories for the amusement of the people. Between this class and the higher there seem to have existed several gradations, so that the best of the wandering singers or reciters of ballads might hardly be distinguished, by their style and their choice of subjects, from the minstrels who were patro- nised at the courts of princes. Among the numerous stories ascribed to one of the travelling ballad-singers, named DER STRICKER, one may be noticed, as it supplied materials for some jest-books which were popular in later times. It is the story of a vagabond priest styled ; Parson Amis,' who, for some reason that we cannot guess, i-< described as an Englishman. His wealth and III.] 'EEYNAED THE FOX.' 41 the popularity he gained by hospitality had excited the envy of his bishop, who first endeavoured to eject him from his living by means of an odd kind of test of his clerical qualifications. The parson, in the course of a viva voce examination, is called on first to answer the question, ' How many days have passed away since Adam was created ? ' From this query Amis escapes by replying, ' Seven only ; but repeated many times.' He is then required to find the centre of the earth's surface, and solves the problem by saying, ' My parish church is situated exactly on the spot.' ' The distance from earth to heaven ? ' is the next question, to which he replies, 'It is just as far as my voice can be heard. Do you go up, my lord, and I will stand here and shout. If you do not hear me, I forfeit my church.' A severer test follows. Parson Ami.*, it is said, has boasted that he can teach an ass to read, and he must prove his assertion true or lose his place. ' Very well, my lord,' he replies ; ' but I must have thirty years allowed for the task. There are clever men who can hardly master a science in less than twenty years.' The sequel of the story reflects less credit on the parson. Having wasted all his property, he tries his fortune as a vagabond impostor. He pretends to be a very poor and utterly uneducated, but deeply pious man, and is accordingly received as one of a brotherhood of monks, among whom he soon acquires a high reputation for sanctity. An angel appears in a vision, and tells the monk, who does not yet know the alphabet, that he must read the mass at the next service. As soon as he has put on his priestly robes, he receives the power of reading and understanding Latin. The fame of this miracle brings many visitors to the convent, and the impostor receives many presents. After gaining considerable wealth by other deceptions, Amis retires to a monastery, devotes his old age to pious exercise*, and, thus prepared for a better world, dies as a venerable abb.it. This conclusion is the most ridiculous part of the story. Such were the jokes of the thirteenth century. We shall find some of them reproduced in the popular stories of a later time ; such as the ' Parson of Kalenberg ' and ' Till Eulenspiegel.' We have reserved for this last place in our review of narrative poems a notice of the tale of ' Reynard the Fox,' because it d~>es not belong to the more characteristic literature of the period. It appears to have been neglected by the admirers of romances founded mostly on foreign legends. 42 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. One of the most amusing results of modern science is the derivation of man from a large hairy ape with canine teeth, the supposed inhabitant of some forests of the Old World. Such a transformation appears as a striking novelty in science ; but t it is old in fable. The Franks, probably as early as the fifth century, had fictions in which bears, wolves, and foxes were changed into men, and the Hindoos had stories of the same kind at a far earlier date. The old German epic of which the heroes were animals had not originally any didactic or satirical purport. It is not difficult to understand the process of conversion from a story having its interest in itself into a fable recommended to reflective readers by moral deductions. The people of primitive times were, in some respects, like children. For them there was an attractive mystery in the lives of the wild beasts of the forest. Children, we all know, will still listen eagerly to the adventures of the wolf, the bear, and the fox ; but will turn away, grieved that a good story should end so stupidly, when we come to the moral. The Franks seem to have put no moral purpose into their old story of the wolf, his friends, and his foes. Isengrim, the wolf, was their leading hero ; but his place was usurped by the fox, in later times, when men admired cunning more than strength. The first makers of the fictions sympathised with the reverses of fortune to which both men and animals are liable, and, as a means of expressing their sympathy, endowed the beasts of the dark old German forests with a human understanding and with the gift of speech. Thus the wolf became ' Isengrim,' and the fox was styled ' Raginohart ' (strong through cunning), which name, first contracted as ' Reinhart,' was afterwards changed into the Low German diminutive of ' Reiueke.' The lion of Asiatic fables becomes ' Bruno ' the bear in the old German epic. Latin versions of some parts of the story were made by monks in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and received then, probably, their didactic elements. The oldest Middle High German version of ' Reynard the Fox ' was compiled from some French original by HEIXKICH DER GLICHEZAEE, a native of Alsace, who lived in the latter half of the twelfth century. A fragment is all that remains of his work, which was soon superseded by another version, different in style and language, but not in substance. As we have said, the story does not seem to have been much noticed in Germany during the thirteenth century ; but it found a better III.] 'REYNARD THE FOX.' 43 reception abroad. It was especially popular in the Netherlands, where a good version in prose appeared in 1479. An English translation of this prose story of ' Reinaert de Vos ' was printed by Caxton in 1.481. The improved versified history of ' Revnke de Vos,' founded on the prose edition of 1479, and written in Low German, appeared at Lubeck in 1498, and passed through many editions. It has been ascribed to Hermann Barkhusen, a printer at Rostock, and may be regarded as the standard modern version of the epic. This was translated into German hexameters by Goethe in 1794. It has been said that he found in this occupa- tion a relief from the annoyance caused by the political events of the time. To return to the story of the Fox, as told in the twelfth century it is a tale of the triumph of cunning, and has hardly a trace of any didactic purport. Reynard, at a time when he is reduced to starvation, is received as a friend and accomplice by Isengrim (the wolf), whose hospitality is basely abused. On the other hand, Isengrim is found guilty of a breach of faith when he devours, with solitary greed, a large quantity of pork obtained by Reynard's cunning. The fox takes revenge by making Isengrim the victim of several severe practical jokes, and these end, of course, in a serious quarrel. They are mustering their respective parties for warfare, when their quarrel is interrupted by a procla- mation from the king (the lion) to the effect that all his subjects must immediately make their appearance at his court. The king, who has been for some time indisposed, ascribes his disease to the displeasure of Heaven, on account of long neglect in the adminis- tration of justice. All the animals except Reynard against whom several heavy charges are preferred obey the royal pro- clamation. Several messengers, who are sent to call the fox to court, are deceived and maltreated by the criminal. At last persuaded by 'Krimel' (the badger) he comes to court, and, in the disguise of a physician, prescribes for the king's disease. The lion, he says, cannot be cured except by wrapping himself in the warm skin of the wolf, who must be slain and flayed. By a series of other malicious stratagems,- Reynard drives all his foes, in terror, from the court ; afterwards, acts treacherously towards his own friends, and, lastly, poisons the king. To conclude this review of narratives in verse, produced, or reproduced, during the time 1150-1350, it might appear from the 44 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. order in which the several classes of fiction have been noticed, that a decline took place from stories having some high purport, like that of ' Parzival,' to such fictions as ' Meier Helmbrecht,' or ' Parson Amis,' or ' Reinhart ; ' but, in fact, no such decline took place. Popular literature had never been raised to the moral level of Wolfram's best passages, or of the ascetic prose writings of the monks. These were the higher strata in the literature of the time. Below them lay all the elements of that more popular literature which appeared in the course of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The refinements of chivalry had no effect on the character of the people, but served as a mere varnish. The sermons and writings of some pious monks and friars of the thir- teenth century such men as David of Augsburg and his pupil Berthold were far in advance of the moral culture of their times, and did not remain altogether secluded and barren. They pene- trated the cells of many students, and even entered the homes and the hearts of many of the common people ; but they had no general and permanent effect on the character of the popular literature that followed them. No revolution took place when the coarse, satirical literature of the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- turies appeared. Popular characteristics that had previously existed then only expressed themselves more loudly. The cul- ture of the thirteenth century was confined to certain classes, and for these it was rather special than general. IV.] LYRIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 45 CHAPTER IV. SECOND PERIOD. 1150-1350. LYRIC AND DIDACTIC TEESE THE MINNESLNGEES PBOSE. In days of yore how fortunately fared The minstrel, wandering on from court to court, Baronial hall or royal ! THE life of a minnesinger, or German troubadour, of the thirteenth century seems now so unreal that we can hardly imagine it as ever existing anywhere save on the stage of the opera. A modern poet writing, in his lonely study, lyric poems of which he never sings one stanza, and sending out copies of them to be read mostly in solitude and silence ; this seems real and rational. We can respect both the poet and his readers. But the mediaeval singer, trained to arms, yet devoting himself, in the prime of life, to the study of versification, ' wandering on from court to court,' and there, in the presence of ladies and knights, singing his own songs to tunes of his own composing, accompanying himself, more- over, on a large, inelegant kind of fiddle with only three strings ; this is a picture too fantastic to be taken for a portrait. The minstrel-knight, riding along with a studious, melancholy face, and humming over his own newly-composed tune ; calling on woods, streams, and birds to sympathise with his sorrow, while he complains of the unkindness of an elected lady, to whom he has never spoken a word ; this is a caricature that seems to have been invented by Cervantes; but it was once a living reality, however incredible it may now seem. The minnesinger was, at first, an imitator of the French troubadour, and the travelling ballad- singer represented the French jongleur. Their songs and recitations were mediaeval substitutes for such intellectual excite- ments as are now supplied by our newspapers and our prolific 46 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATUEE. [On. literature of fiction, our theatres and our concerts of highly- developed music. If it be hard to understand how the commonplace verses found in many of the ordinary Minnelieder could ever have been tolerated and applauded, we should consider how dull winter evenings must have been in a German castle of the middle ages. There is much affectation to be found in the love-songs of the time, and some of the lyrics composed to hail the advent of spring now seem artificial ; but the complaints of winter's deso- lation and dulness have often a tone of real feeling. The knights and the men of lower degree who made verses borrowed at first both their themes and their modes of versifica- tion from the French troubadours, but gradually assumed more independent and national characteristics. The old popular ballads of the German people had fallen in esteem, and lyrical poems of a far more artificial character became fashionable. A greatly improved style of versification is found in the best of the so- called Minnelieder. This name of ' love-songs ' has been incor- rectly applied to the whole of the lyrical poetry of the thirteenth century ; for the minstrels of that time, though love, or a senti- mental respect for women, was their favourite theme, sang also of the beauty of the earth and the skies in spring and summer, and sometimes expressed their thoughts freely on such topics as morals, politics, and religion. The want of reality and common interest found in too many of their lyrics is easily explained by the fact that they were often invented as mere exercises in versi- fication. It was a rule that a minnesinger must invent his own form of stanza and his own tune, and a repetition of a strophe or a melody already appropriated was regarded as a failure. Hence the study of the form prevailed over that of the purport ; just as we find, in inferior music, mere counterpoint taking the j lace of inspiration. For our knowledge of these mediaeval poets and their songs we are indebted to several manuscript collections, made about the close of the period of which we are writing, the most extensive of which, though not the oldest, is commonly known as the ' Parisian Manuscript.' It is supposed to have been written, by several hands, in the fourteenth century, and contains specimens of the productions of one hundred and forty poets and versifiers, with one hundred and thirty-seven illustrations. This remarkable IV.] LYRIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 47 manuscript was found in the library of the castle of Forsteck, near the old convent of St. Gallen, about 1600, and soon after- wards was placed in the library of Heidelberg. In some way not yet explained it was carried off to Paris about the close of the Thirty Years' War, and in 1815, when other literary treasures were restored to Germany, was retained in the Paris library. The whole collection, well edited by Von der Hagen, was published in 1838. The reader of this book cannot but be impressed at first with a sense of contrast between the variety of the metres and the same- ness of the thoughts. But a closer acquaintance with the German troubadours reveals, in their best productions, both a poetical and an historical interest. Their favourite theme is ' Minne,' which means, in the tirst place, the kind remembrance of a friend, either living or deceased. This is the oldest meaning of the word, and it accords well with the purport of the best Minnelieder, which have been highly praised for their chaste and refined style. Others, however, have supplied arguments in support of some unfavourable representations of the morals of the ages of chivalry. There can be no doubt that both the praise and the censure are well founded. The former may be justified by reference to the best lyrical poems of Walther von der Vogelweide ; while for an example of the caricature of Minne and chivalry, there stands the autobiography of Ulrich von Lichtenstein. These two men re- present, respectively, the lights and the shadows of the higher social life of their times. WALTHER VON DEB VOGELWEIDE is in merit, though not in the order of time, the first of his class. His master, or first model, he says, was REIXMAR -DER ALTE, a crusader, who died about the close of the twelfth century. Walther was born of poor parents, And in early life chose the profession of a wandering minstrel. Such a vagabond life was, in his times, by no means disreputable. There was then no home in his native land for men of intellect or genius, who were not churchmen. They were compelled to de- pend on the patronage of courts. So Walther invented new stanzas and tunes, and rambled from one court to another, and yet he was no servile courtier. He did not gain riches by his travels. The assertion that he joined one of the crusades seems destitute of proof. In one of his poems, apparently written when he was old anrl weary of the world, he expresses an earnest longing 48 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. to travel to the Holy Land. ' Though I am still a poor man,' he says, ' I should there gain great wealth. I mean neither land nor gold, hut an everlasting crown. Might I but make a voyage thither over the sea ! Then would I sing " 'tis well," and say " alas " no more.' It is true that, in another poem, he speaks as if he had arrived in Palestine, but his voyage was, most probably, only imaginary. In his later years he resided on a small estate given to him, as it appears, by the emperor Friedrich II. ; but not- withstanding this high patronage, the poet died as he had lived poor. Walther's lyrical poems are distinguished from those of most of his contemporaries by a strong impress of sincerity and a wide range of thought. When he hails the coming of spring after a long winter, he imitates in the gladness of his heart the carols of the birds, and goes on in melodious verses to speak of the beauty and grace of the lady to whom he dedicates his song, but whom he never names. ' When she appears,' he says, ' all the charms of the spring are forgotten.' In the next song the reader, to his surprise, will find the minstrel changed into a satirist, who denounces the political and religious corruption of his times, re- bukes the Pope for his worldly ambition, and predicts a speedy ruin of the world. These are not all the notes of the scale on which his songs are constructed. As a specimen of his lighter and more popular style, the following strophe in praise of German women may serve : In many foreign lands I've been, And knights and ladies there have seen ; But here alone I find my rest Old Germany is still the best ; Some other lands have pleased me well ; But here 'tis here I choose to dwell. German men have virtues rare, And German maids are angels fair ! He rises to a higher strain than this in other lyrics, where he places domestic virtue above external beauty, and speaks of Minne in the higher interpretation of the word. ' Even where it cannot be returned,' he says, ' if devoted to one worthy of it, it ennobles a man's life. His affection for one teaches him to be kind and generous towards all.' Walther pleasantly describes himself as by no means good-looking, and censures all praise bestowed on men for their merely exterior advantages. And he is no fanatical IV.] LYRIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 49 worshipper of feminine beaufy, affirming that it may sometimes be a thin mask worn over bad passions. Grace and amiability live longer and exert a deeper influence than external charms. Wal- ther agrees with Reinmar von Zweter in regarding ' wife ' as a title more honourable than ' lady.' The first implies some duties fulfilled ; the second is only an abstract term. With regard to their moral and social purport, the verses of Wal- ther have a considerable historical interest. They show us how insecurely the Church held the faith and loyalty of German men in the thirteenth century. Walther is bold and violent in his defi- ance and contempt of the Pope's usurpation of temporal authority. Referring in one place to a fable commonly believed in his time, he says : ' When Constantine gave the spear of temporal power, as well as the cross and the crown, to the see of Rome, the angels in heaven lamented, and well they might ; for that power is now abused to annoy the emperor and to stir up the pifinces, his vassals, against him.' The poet was as earnest in dissuading the people from contributing money to support the Crusades. ' Very little of it,' said he, ' will ever find its way into the Holy Land. The Pope is now filling his Italian coffers with our German silver.' This saying seems to have been very popular ; for a tame moralist who lived in Walther's time complains that, by making such statements, the poet was perverting the faith of many people. ' All his fine verses,' the moralist adds, ' will not atone for that bad libel on Rome.' Yet the author of it was quite orthodox in doctrine, and was enthusiastic in his zeal for rescuing the Holy Sepulchre from the Saracens. In one of his best lyrioe, already mentioned, he imagines that he has arrived in Palestine. The whole of this poem might serve, if it could be fairly translated, as an example of the author's bold and poetical style ; but we can- not attempt more than a version of the first stanza : Now I live without a care ; Bor all I've longed for I behold. The Holy Land of which elsewhere, Such wonders have been truly told, Lies all spread out before me there, And I may tread the path which God, In human form, so often trod. Then follows a summary of nearly all the articles in the Apostles' Creed. If this lyric makes it evident that the poet was 50 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEKATUEE. [Cn. a Christian in his belief, other verses express, with equal earnest- ness, his love of his native land and his grief for the social and political disorders of his own times. He believes that the world is falling a prey to anarchy. 'I hear the rushing of the water/ he says, ' and I watch the movements of the fish that swim in its depth. I explore the habits of the creatures of this world, in the forest and in the field, from the beast of the chase down to the insect, and I find there is nowhere any life that is not vexed by hatred and strife. Warfare is found everywhere, and yet some order is preserved even among animals ; but in my own native land, where the petty princes are lifting themselves up against the emperor, we are hastening on to anarchy.' The course of events proved that he was too true in this prediction. Resignation and despair, rather than any hope of a reconciliation of religion with practical life, characterise other meditative poems. We give, in the following version, the purport of one of the best of this class : I sat one day upon a stone, And meditated long, alone. While resting on my hand my head, In silence to myself I said : ' How, in these days of care and strife, Shall I employ my fleeting life ? Three precious jewels I require To satisfy my heart's desire : The first is honour, bright and clear, The next is wealth, and far more dear The third is Heaven's approving smile.' Then, after I had mused awhile, I saw that it was vain to pine For these three pearls in one small shrine ; To find within one heart a place For honour, wealth, and heavenly grace ; For how can one, in days like these, Heaven and the world together please ? Many inferior names must be left unnoticed to make room for those of two or three versifiers who, with regard to their didactic tendency, were followers or associates of Walther. Of the first of these, who was styled DER MARKER, hardly anything is known further than that he was a wandering Suabian minstrel, who died some time before 1287. It is related by one of his friends, Rumeland, that Der Marner lived to an advanced age, became Btone-bliud, and was murdered when on a journey. Like Walther, IV.] LYKIC AND DIDACTIC VEESE. 51 he was audacious in his declamations against Rome ; but his didac- tic verses have but little poetical interest. BROTHER WERNHER, who lived in the earlier part of the thirteenth century, and is described as ' a pilgrim,' was another severe didactic versifier, a lamlator temporis acti, and a satirist of the rising generation of his times. Indeed it seems to have been necessary to die, in order to gain a good word from brother Wernher, for he praised only the deceased, and his best poems are elegies. Of Minne, whether in the right or the wrong sense of the word, we find very little in his verses. Dr. Johnson would have liked Wernher, for he was ' a good hater.' RETNMAR VON ZWETER so named to distinguish him from the older Reinmar already mentioned deserves to be noticed if only on account of his rational respect for real good women as distin- guished from the abstract and imaginary ladies celebrated by so many versifiers. It is true he is rather prosaic in his style of repeating that the honest, homely, practical wife holds a place in the world far higher than that of the dreamlike goddess of a minnesinger ; that true beauty survives the loss of youth's charms, and that a devotion which has lived through trials of fortitude and patience is worth more than the bare promise of youth. ' A true wife,' he adds, ' is as precious as the Oral seen by Parzival in the castle. She is, at once, a woman and an angel.' This passage recalls Wordsworth's lines on a creature not too good For human nature's daily food, And yet a spirit, too, and bright With something of an angel light. The portrait of Reinmar given in the ' Parisian Manuscript ' is, of course, imaginary; but it is one of the most pleasing of the illustrations given in that volume. He sits, meditating, under a Gothic canopy. On his right hand a little maiden, and at his left a boy, seem to be earnestly engaged in writing down the advice he has recently given them. This picture refers, probably, to one of his lyrics, of which the beginning, considered as poetry, is far better than the close. It opens thus : My life is in its eventide, My sunshine now has turned to gray ; Of youth, still glowing like the dawn, I'm musing at the close of day. 52 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. And then follows some advice to young people, which is good and true in its purport, but prosaic in form. With regard to their moral tendencies, the versifiers of this time may be divided into two classes ; those who hardly speak of morals and those who speak mostly in a severe and ascetic tone. While aorne describe life as a festival, others turn away from it in despair. Religion, as understood by Walther and others, is re- garded mostly as a preparation for another world. ' This world,' says Walther, ' though gay with green and rosy colours on the outside, is black within, and dark as death, for those who look beyond the outer show ; ' and many less powerful expressions of the same thought may be found in the lyrical and didactic verse of the times. A remarkable protest against this medieval pessimism is found in some lyrical poems ascribed to FRIEDRICH VON SONNENBFRG, who lived and gained fame as a minstrel before 1253, and died before 1287. The most striking characteristic of his verses is their anti-monastic tendency. 'To blame this fair world in which we live,' he says, ' is to be guilty of impiety ; for it is through this world that we obtain our knowledge of the Creator, and its substance is so good that God formed out of it the Blessed Virgin and His own human nature.' ' All the saints who have lived have been indebted to this earth on which we dwell for their bodily existence,' says the poet ; and he adds with a reference to the doctrine of trans ubstantiation ' God forms daily His own body out of the produce of the earth. Through this world lies our only way into heaven, and, at the resurrection, it must be from the earth that our new bodies will arise. The commandment " Honour thy father and thy mother " forbids a contempt of the world in which we live ; for if God is our Father, the world is, surely, our mother. " Forsake this evil world ! " men idly say ; but it is simply impossible. Let us forsake our sins, and be thankful for the world we dwell in ! ' These are the most original thoughts to be found in Sonnenburg's rhymes. That he could be sometimes severe in his censure of his fellow- men, and that he had no respect for the memory of the emperor, we see in a dismal elegy on the great Hohenstaufen. The poet here expresses a firm belief that Rome has for ever excluded her enemy from heaven. ' It must be so, if all that the monks say is true,' he adds, and he is not speaking ironically. The want of individuality and other faults of the Mmnelieder are IV.] LYRIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 53 partly explained when we consider that they were composed to be sung, and that many of their metres and stanzas were intricate in their structure. As a proof of the difficulty of combining such conditions with a free expression of thought, we may refer to one of the best of the religious Minnelieder a hymn in praise of the Virgin, which was written by EBERHART TON SAX. He lived in the later half of the thirteenth century, and was, probably, a Dominican monk. Of all the twenty stanzas each consisting of twelve lines it would be impossible to give an English transla- tion of one, so as to preserve the sense and, at the same time, the metre, with corresponding rhymes. The structure of the regular Italian sonnet is less difficult than that of the stanza chosen for this hymn, which is one of the best and most musical of all the religious Minnelieder. Having given some brief notices of versifiers, who, in some respects, might be associated with Walther, we may now mention those who belonged to the fantastic school. Of these, the first in rank is ULRICH vow LICHTENSTEIN, a knight of Steiermark, who was born about the beginning of the thirteenth century. If half of what he tells of himself is true, his adventures surpassed in absurdity some that we read of in Don Quixote. He was employed as page to a noble lady when he was only twelve years old, and soon afterwards made a resolution of devoting his whole life to her service, for which she never thanked him. This wasted loyalty occupied about thirty years of his life, and gave rise to a series of strange adventures which are described in his romance (or auto- biography), entitled Frauendienst. Its absurdity makes it almost incredible ; but its style is that of a dry, versified chronicle, and it has been generally accepted as autobiographical. Here he tells how, in order to vindicate the honour of his elected lady which had never been questioned he rode forth ' disguised as Vemis,' and tilted against all knights who would accept his challenge. In another expedition, he represented King Arthur, restored to the world in order to revive the institutions of chivalry. The lady for whom he encountered all the dangers of his first series of adventures despised him, made him the butt of ridicule, and, at last, subjected him to a practical joke so degrading that he will not tell us what it was. ' If I mentioned it,' he says, ' eveiy honest man would sympathise with my vexation.' His own wife, whom he now and then mentions kindly, and with whom he laved 54 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. on good terms when he stayed at home, seems to have made no protest against his Quixotism. His Dulcinea was a respectable married lady when he was first engtiged in her service, and she must have been, at least, about twelve years older than her champion. Some critics, who accept Ulrich's story as a statement of facts, suppose that his imagination had been excited by a study of French romances. Others find in his Fravendienst a fair picture of manners in the times of chivalry. He died in 1277, when he was about seventy-six years old. His example was copied, on a reduced scale, by JOHN HADLATTB, of Zurich, who died in the fourteenth century ; but this new Quixote was too late in the field, and his performances were hardly noticeable. Some of his verses are imitations of the style of NITHART VON REUENTHAL, a knight who lived in the first half of the thirteenth century, and whose songs deserve notice for the novelty of their character. NITHART was lively and fluent in his versification, and gave some interest to his songs by introducing comic scenes from rustic life and telling his own adventures at village festivals. In several instances his humour is more to be commended than his taste. Walther, most likely, referred to Nithart's innovations, when he spoke of ' low comic ballads that ought to be sent back to the boors from whom they were borrowed.' Nithart generally gives some dramatic interest to his songs; but his plots have little variety. For example, he begins a song with a few notes on fine weather, and then lightly sketches his rural scenery. It is May- time ; the linden-trees are putting forth their fresh green leaves ; the meadows are golden with buttercups, and the village maidens come out to dance. A venerable rustic makes her appearance, entreating her wilful daughter to stay at home and work in the garden. The mother scolds and threatens ; but the girl trips away to join the dancers. In another song, the girl and her mother have changed their parts, and we have a livelier comedy. It is now the old dame who, unconscious of her age and infirmity, is seized with an irresistible passion for dancing. In vain the girl speaks of gray hairs and a becoming sobriety. The maiden must now stay at home, and the old mother trips away to the dance. Nithart had, probably, a lively style of singing and recitation that gave effect to such songs as these. We find their characteristics in the lyrics of GOTTFRIED VON NIFEN, and in those ascribed to IV.] LYKIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 55 DEE TANHAUSER. In passing, we may observe, that the popular legend associated with the name of Der Tanhauser is far older than his time. Versifiers became more and more didactic towards the close of the thirteenth century, as may be seen in the writings ascribed to HEINRICH FRAUENLOB, of Meissen, who was born in 1260 and died in 1318. He was a man of some learning, and liked to show it, even when it was out of place. ' Other poets skim the surface,' he says; ' I descend into the depths.' This refers, we suppose, to his mystical verses, which are his worst. A tradition says that, on account of the praise he bestowed on good women and their domestic virtues, he was carried to his grave by ladies, and was buried, with great honours, in the cathedral at Mayence. Frauenlob's imitator, and subsequent rival, was a wandering smith named REGENBOGEN, who left his trade and, urged, as he tells us, ' by a love of poetry ' but, more probably, by a wish to avoid hard work chose the life of a ballad-singer. The times were unfavourable, and he seems to have been a disappointed man. Unlimited competition had injured the trade of rhyming, and the market value of verse had fallen very low. ' My noble patrons must soon pay me better,' says Regenbogen, ' or I shall go back to the anvil.' Another rhymer, MASTER STOLLE, is very emphatic in his condemnation of the king, Rudolf of Haps- burg, who would not pay money for verses. ' The king,' says Master Stolle, 'is an honourable man; but he will not spend. He is rich, no doubt, in all virtues ; but he will not scatter his money. Sing or say what you will in his praise, this must be always added he gives us nothing.' It is a hard, unpoetic fact that the development of lyric poetry was interrupted in the days of Kaiser Rudolf by a want of funds. Walther, a true poet, com- plained of his poverty, and no wonder that his degenerate fol- lowers, the poetasters, had to complain more bitterly. Intellectual culture was becoming more and more resident in towns, and found less and less patronage in the castles of knights and barons and at the courts of princes. The wandering ballad-singers fought bravely against the tendency of their times, and persevered in their old, idle way of life. The followers of Regenbogen were not easily suppressed. It was more than a century after his time, when a venal rhymer, MICHAEL BEHEIM, almost in despair, complained thus of hard times : 56 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. With poverty 1 wage a useless strife ; I never was so ragged in my life ! About the same time, ROSENBLTJT, a writer of heraldic ballads, gave up business ; in other words, abandoned his vagabond life and his adulation of noblemen, settled at Niirnberg. and there wrote comic tales, not always edifying, for the amusement of the people. His example was characteristic of the general tendency of popular literature in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Though several itinerant poetasters continued their struggle for existence, they did not represent the popular culture of their times, which found encouragement in the towns, and especially in the guilds of the Master Singers, to which our attention must soon be directed. Here, then, we say farewell to the German troubadours, and to their attendants and followers, the wandering ballad-singers ; but before we go on to describe the guilds or schools of their well- meaning but prosaic successors, the master singers, we must no- tice several books of didactic verse, which belong to the thirteenth century and the early part of the fourteenth. In one of these oddly entitled ' The Runner,' and written by Hugo von Trimberg- - will be found an indication of the general characteristics of popu- lar literature from the close of the fourteenth century to the time of the Reformation. HUGO VON TRIMBERG was the rector of a school near Bamberg in 1260-1309. The statement that he was a schoolmaster has been called in question, but is supported by strong internal evidence. He has all the sourness and severity of an overworked and ill-paid rector of a school, and to this he adds the bitterness of an author who has lost a considerable part of his manuscripts. He wrote, besides ' The Runner,' several books, including one entitled Der Sammlcr (' The Gatherer '), which, as he tells us, was lost during his lifetime. Hugo had learning enough to enable him to make some quotations from Horace, Juvenal, and Seneca. His book was at first planned as an allegory, but he afterwards used it as he might have used a chest of drawers in which to stow away any articles he had not room for elsewhere. His memory seems to have been injured by his drudgery in the school near Bamberg; for he often inserts the same article twice. He declaims severely against all classes of society, excepting the peasantry. ' When IV.] LYEIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 57 the Old Serpent was cast down from heaven/ says Hugo, 'his body was broken into three pieces. The first pride was shared among the wealthy laity ; the middle greed - became the pro- perty of the clergy ; and the tail envy was given to the monks. If Saint Paul and Saint Peter were living now at Rome, they would be sold, if anyone would bid a fair price for them.' Such sweeping accusations as these are repeated here and there, and the old schoolmaster apologises by telling us that his memory is ' not as good as it was forty years ago.' Turning to treat of his own profession, he assures us that elementary education is useless if it is not religions, and he makes the same complaint of the rising generation that we often hear now : ' There are no genuine children to be found now,' he says ; ' the boys are far too clever, and know more than their parents and their teachers. I do not like these little old men. When they are really old, I expect they will be very childish.' Then follow some laudations of the good old times that had passed away, it seems, before the opening of the fourteenth century ! Hugo condemns the waste of time in read- ing such romances as ' Parzival ' and ' Tristan,' ' which are full of lies,' he says, and he ridicules tournaments and some other amuse- ments of chivalry. The most readable parts of his book are the stories and fables which he inserts to illustrate his doctrines. For example, to show that there is one law for the rich and another for the poor in the confessional, he tells a story of the wolf and the fox who went to Rome to confess to the Pope. On their way, They overtook the Ass, and so All three to Rome together go. And when they saw the city near, The Wolf said to his cousin dear : ' Reynard, my plan I'll name to you : The Pope, we know, has much to do : I doubt if he can spend his time To hear our catalogues of crime. 'Twill, spare some trouble for the Pope (And also for ourselves, I hope, As we may 'scape with penance less), If to each other we confess : Let each describe his greates sin So, without preface, I'll begin. To notice trifles I disdain ; But one fact gives my conscience pain. 'Tis this : there dwelt beside the Rhine A man who lived by feeding swine. 58 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. He had a sow who rambled wide, While all her pigs with hunger cried. I punished her in such a way, That never more she went astray. Her little ones, deserted now, Oft moved my pity, I'll avow ; I ended all their woes one night Now let my punishment be light ! ' 4 Well,' said the Fox, ' your sin was small, And hardly can for penance call ; For such a venial transgression You've made amends by this confession. And now I'll do as you have done ; Of all my sins I'll name but one : A man such noisy fowls would keep, That no one near his house could sleep ; The Growings of his chanticleer Disturbed the country Car and near. Distracted by the noise, one night I went and stopped his crowing quite. But this feat ended not the matter, The hens began to crow and chatter ; And so (the deed I slightly rue) I killed them and their chickens too.' ' Well,' said the Wolf, 'to hush that din Was surely no alarming sin. Abstain from poultry for three days, And, if you like, amend your ways. But now the Ass must be confessed Donkey ! how far have you transgressed ? ' ' Ah ! ' said the Ass with dismal bray, } ' You know I have not much to say ; f For I have toiled from day to day, J And done for master service good, In carrying water, corn, and wood ; But once, in winter-time, 'tis true, I did what I perhaps must rue : A countryman, to keep him warm (We had, just then, a snowy storm), Had put some straw into his shoes To bite it I could not refuse ; And so (for hunger was my law) I took, or stole, a single straw.' ' There ! say no more ! ' the Fox exclaimed ; ' For want of straw that man was lamed ; His feet were bitten by the frost ; 'Tis probable his life was lost. Twas theft and murder. No reply ! Your penance is, that you must die.' The author concludes his work with a passage that may disarm IV.] LYRIC AND DIDACTIC VERSE. 59 criticism. Self-knowledge was rare among the satirists of these times, but Hugo had acquired it. ' I am like Balaam's ass,' he says, ' speaking to warn sinners of the errors of their way. But wherever my book travels in Suabia, Thuringia, Bavaria, and Franken I trust that many will thank me for putting into German some good doctrines hitherto little known in our land, and I entreat my survivors especially women to subscribe each a penny, that masses may be said for the release of my soul from purgatory.' Hugo's didactic and satirical book may be regarded as repre- senting the purport of a considerable part of the literature of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ; but later satirists were even more severe and indiscriminate than Hugo in their censures. For a time, the men of reformatory tendencies had the advantage in polemical writing until Thomas Murner arose and showed them that ridicule and bitter invective could also be employed with effect against Protestants. In these times the ten commandments seemed to have been virtually reduced to two : the first, that every man should have a good conceit of himself, and the second that he should libel his neighbours. Der Winsbecke, written about the middle of the thirteenth century, is a more pleasing didactic book than Hugo's. It gives us the advice of an aged father addressed to his son, and its tone is both manly and gentle. A very short quotation may serve to confirm our statement that, besides fanatical worshippers and satirists of women, there lived some gentlemen in the thirteenth century. ' My son,' says the old man, ' I warn you not to follow the example of those who rail against women. You may find, perhaps, even in high rank some ladies who are hardly worthy of their titles ; but let not this mislead you. To win the esteem of pood women is a sure way to success in life. In their society we find our best solace, and all the cares and toils of our life are for- gotten.' This book, Der Winsbecke, had a feminine counterpart Die Winsbeckin in which a mother gives moral instruction to her daughter. Her well-intended advice is inferior to the old man's, but is more amusing. A far better didactic book, entitled Freidanks Bescheidenheit ('Freidank's Advice'), has been, without authority, ascribed to Walther von der Vogelweide. The unknown author, or compiler, of this book, which includes a great number of proverbs, resembles Hugo in some of his denunciations of the 60 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATURE. [Cn. mediaeval Church ; but writes on the whole with greater modera- tion. With regard to this quality, however, ' The Italian Guest,' a book on morals and manners written by THOMASIN ZIRCLARE, in the early part of the thirteenth century, is one of the best didactic works of its time. In other respects it is not remark- able. We find more amusement in the Eddstein, a series of stories and fables written by ULRICH BONER, a monk who died at an advanced age, in 1340. He wrote very clearly and without the slightest attempt to decorate his verses. ' Plain words are my fashion/ he says ; 'one of my stories may look like a dry nutshell, but a kernel will be found in it. You may gather some medicinal herbs out of a homely little garden like mine.' Sometimes, how- ever, he gives a story purely for its humour, as when he tells how an incorrigible dunce came home from the University of Paris : The father spread his daintiest cheer For friends who came from far and near, Congratulating sire and son For all the lore at Paris won. John drew a long and studious face (For every dunce may learn grimace) : He nodded well, and shook his head, And, wisely, very little said. Then, when the dinner-time was o'er, He stood beside an open door, And studiously beheld the sky The moon was shining, full and high. Then whispered some good friends together : ' He knows the laws of winds and weather. Astronomy ! he knows it all, And what to-morrow will befall.' The father was a happy man Until the son to talk began ; For opening wide his mouth, he said : ' One thing does puzzle my poor head ; 'Tis this : the moon that you see there And that at Paris make a pair So much alike, 1 cannot see Their difference in the least degree ! ' At this the father shook his head, And to his friends, in anger, said : ' Be warned by me don't send to school A boy predestined for a fool.' IV.] PKOSE. 61 We have still to mention the prose literature of this period. It is scanty, but interesting ; for it includes the remarkable sermons of the Franciscan friar Brother Berthold, and the speculative writings of the so-called mystic, Master Eckhart. These were men who endeavoured, not to describe the world as it is, nor to satirise it, but to make it a new warld. They belonged, respec- tively, to the Franciscan and Dominican orders, founded in 1208 and 1215. Brother Berthold was the best popular preacher, and Master Eckhart was the highest speculative thinker of the thir- teenth century. BERTHOLD LECH, born about 1220-30, was the pupil of David of Augsburg, a monk of some learning, who seems to have been proud of the young preacher he had trained ; for the master some- times accompanied the scholar in his travels through Bavaria, Bohemia, and Thuringia. So great was the fame of Berthold among the common people, that in many places where he came no church was large enough to hold his congregation. He there- fore often chose some elevated spot in the open field, and there preached to assembled thousands. In order to give fair play to his powerful voice, he took care to place his congregation facing the quarter from which the wind was blowing.. One of his chief traits was his opposition to externalism, and this alone was remarkable at a time when such a man as Walther, the poet, was longing to join a crusade in order to save his soul. Though Ber- thold was an orthodox churchman and denounced heresy, he preached boldly against trust in ceremonies, pilgrimages, and in- dulgences. ' You have paid a visit to the shrine of St. James,' he says, ' and there you have seen his skull, which consists of dead bones ; but the better part of the saint is in heaven.' The chief characteristic of Berthold's preaching was the vigorous application of his doctrine to the realities of common life. How- ever various their tenets may be, moral teachers may, with regard to their purport, be all included in three classes: they either tolerate life as it is j or they denounce it ; or they endeavour to transmute it into a higher life. Berthold belonged to the third class, and his practical character is clearly shown in an anecdote related of him. He had been preaching, on one occa- sion, when a notorious sinner cried aloud and expressed a sudden resolution to lead a new life. The monk immediately made a pause in his discourse, and gave orders, which were promptly 62 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATTJRE. [Cn. obeyed, that a collection should be made for the penitent Magda- lene, to enable her to start fairly in a course of honest living. That such a practice might be abused, and lead to conversions more numerous than genuine, is only too obvious. Berthold was a man of superior imaginative eloquence. There are some passages in the best of his 'land-sermons,' as he called them, which remind us of Jeremy Taylor's style ; the follow- ing passage, for example : 'What can a child unborn know,' says the preacher, ' of the light and glory of this world ; of the bright sun, the sparkling stars, the various colours and the radiance of gems ; or of the splendid array of silk and gold made by man's skill ; or of the melodies of birds and the sounds of instruments of music; or of the various hues of flowers, and of so many other splendours ? As little can we know truly of the unspeakable pleasures of Paradise.' Other equally fervid passages are to be found in the sermon on Heaven, where the light and warmth of the preacher's imagination play mostly upon the clouds, and strike out resplendent colours there ; while in his practical teach- ing his doctrine descends with fertilising power, and penetrates the soil of daily life. His words are seldom abstract : he clothes his thoughts in familiar imagery, and repeats them again and again, as if resolved to make his dullest hearer understand. Berthold's errors arose from his zeal for the welfare of the poorer classes of society. It is easier to retire from the world than to mend it ; but Berthold, though a monk, would not sur- render the world to the power of evil. In his endeavour to reconcile his two beliefs that the world was made to be a home for happy men, and that it has been greatly depraved he was led to some bold conclusions. The first was an assertion of the absolute freedom of man's will, to which he ascribed the origin of all existing evils. Again, his endeavour to reconcile the benevolent purpose of the Creator with the wrongs and the sufferings of society led Berthold, though he knew nothing of Communism as a theory, to declaim in favour of something very much like it. He says nothing of the necessity of physical sufferings, in order to lead to man's higher moral education, and then to more favourable circumstances ; he knows nothing of such doctrines as modern economists teach ; but when he sees the sufferings of the poor he declaims thus : ' There is enough in the world for all of you, and if any suffer want it is because others IV.] PROSE. 63 have too much. God made this world as complete as He made the heavens. As there is no star wanting there, so there is no- thing for man's use left wanting here. There is enough meat, and bread, and wine, and beer, fish and fowl, and game of all kinds for all of us ; and if you say it has been unfairly distributed, I reply that some one has robbed you of your proper share.' In concluding one part of the sermon from which we quote, the preacher declares that the kingdom of heaven belongs to the poor, and that the rich must buy it from the poor in other words, must merit it by a liberal distribution of alms. Such teaching as this was, no doubt, one of the causes of Berthold's popularity, and its influence survived his times. We find its echoes in the popular literature of the following two hundred years. So strong was the general democratic tendency of these two centuries, that it was owing to Luther and his friends that the Reformation, when it did come, was not accompanied by a sweeping social revolution. Neither Berthold nor the Mystics ever dreamed of such a result ; but it can hardly be doubted that to them the extreme left party of the Reformation were greatly indebted for their opinions and tendencies. From the highest truth to error there may be but a step. ' Men are created to be free,' said Berthold, 'and the gifts of Providence ought to be fairly shared.' So thought John of Leyden. The good friar never dreamed of having such a follower, and if he could have known him, would have been ashamed of him ; but there was, nevertheless, an historical connection between these two men. Apart from some tedious repetitions, the style of Berthold's sermons deserves high praise. He says two or three things distinctly, and then makes a full stop ; thus avoiding the compli- cations of which the German language is capable. The same clearness is found in the writings of Tauler, though he is called a mystic, and his master, Eckhart, though his writings may seem abstruse, on account of the thoughts they are intended to express, is, in fact, one of the best of all the writers of Middle High German prose. We cannot pretend to give here a full and systematic account of his speculative views, which belong to the history of philosophy, and should be given in their proper connec- tion ; but his general tendency as a religious teacher may be here noticed. MASTER HEINRICH ECKHART was born about the middle of the 64 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITERATUEE. [Cu. thirteenth century, and died a year (or perhaps two years) before 1329, when he was excommunicated by the Pope, John XXII. The bull states that Eckhart, some short time before his death, recanted hia errors ; but this is clearly proved to be false by the documents of the trial for heresy, dated early in 1327, and still existing. They show that 'the father of German speculation' so Eckhart has been justly styled did not contradict himself. Instead of recanting, he made a protest against a judgment founded on garbled extracts from his writings. His accuser, the Arch- bishop of Cologne, in fact, knew and cared little about any abstruse speculations. But Eckhart had made himself enemies by his zeal for the reformation of monasteries ; and hence arose a rather vague charge of having taught something like what is now called ' pantheism.' If we take this word in its plain, etymological meaning, it may be safely asserted that Eckhart did not teach pantheism ; that is, he did not teach that the two concepts of the universe and of its Cause are identical. But he would not rest contented with an imaginative view of the relation of the Creator with the created. According to the common representation, each excludes the other, and, therefore, each must be finite. As this involves a contradiction, Eckhart was tempted to think further, and thus made himself liable to an accusation so conveniently vague that it has been preferred against the author of the Bha- gavad-Gita, the Persian mystic Jellaleddin-Rurni, the great churchman and schoolman St. Thomas Aquinas, Bruno, Bohme, Spinoza, Schelling, Hegel, Goethe, and Schefer. It might be as fairly preferred against the English poets Pope and Wordsworth. The address of the latter to One who includes all others ' as the sea includes her waves ' is as pantheistic as anything to be found in Eckhart ; and Pope's lines All are but parts of one stupendous Whole, Whose body nature is, and God the soul have been accepted by Brahmins as a fair summary of their own creed. If Eckhart must, however, be called a pantheist, his teaching was spiritual. The general tendency of his speculation was to translate into unitive thought the symbols supplied by the senses. For example, he construes those words in the Creed, ' sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father,' as meaning identity with the Divine Being. ( Heaven,' he tells us, ' is not a place, IV.] PROSE. 65 and eternity is not an extension of time, however long, but is the substance of which all the things of time and sense are but shadows, and includes, now, all the past and all the future.' Such speculation seems abstruse ; but for Eckhart the spiritual and the practical were one and the same, and he therefore expresses his most abstruse thoughts with evident earnest feeling. ' The spiritual man,' he says, ' lives and moves in time, but has his true being in eternity.' Some of the characteristics of such a man are these : { he is not careful to defend himself against accusations ; but leaves truth to speak for itself; he desires nothing except that God's will may be done ; he is not excited by the things of time and sense, and does not depend on them for his joy ; for this is in himself, and is one with his own being. God bring us all into this rest now ! ' says Master Eckhart, at the close of one of his homilies. His religious purport will appear more plainly when the writings of his pupil, Tauler, are noticed. In concluding this sketch of the first of German mystics we may briefly mention another charge preferred against him and his followers. It has been asserted that their teaching was to the effect, l that man might, without divine aid, liberate himself from sin, simply by his . own will.' It is obvious that this charge contradicts that of ' pantheism ; ' for, if a man has no distinct existence, how can his will have it ? 66 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [On. CHAPTER V. THIRD PERIOD. 1350-1525. THE LATER MIDDLE AGES TOWNS GUILDS THE MASTER SINGERS NARRATIVE AND LYRICAL VERSE THE DRAMA PROSE FICTION. THE literature of the romantic mediaeval time was hardly in its full bloom when it began to decay. The thirteenth century opened with the songs of Walther and closed with the ' wise saws ' of the dry and severe Bamberg schoolmaster. His prosaic book, Der Renner, marks the close of the period we have called ' romantic.' This word, as used by German literary historians, has a far wider meaning than the popular one, and is employed, not only to designate the literature of the romance languages, and to mark some characteristics of mediaeval fiction, but also to express the general tone and tendency of mediaeval, as distinct from both ancient and from modern literature. That tone and tendency was nothing less than the utterance of a profound dis- content an alienation of the mind from the world in which it lived, a discontent that led the monk to the seclusion of his cell, the romancist to seek his themes in foreign or imaginary sources, and the mystic to seek rest in self-abnegation and retirement from the world. Contrast the sublime complainings of the great mediaeval poet, DANTE, with the general tone of contentment and cheerfulness that pervades the ' Odyssey ' though its hero is the man ' who suffered many hardships ' and a clear view will be obtained of the opposite characteristics expressed by the words antique and romantic. Ulysses, in the midst of all his troubles, never despairs. Mind and body ; ' man and his dwelling-place ; ' his aspirations and his fate ; ' religion and common life j ' all these were, on the whole, well united in ancient times ; but in the middle ages this harmony was broken, and it has never yet been V.] THE LATER MIDDLE AGES. 67 restored. We shall not find it in the times now to be described, extending from the middle of the fourteenth century to the opening of the sixteenth. The period 1350-1525, though one of the highest interest in general history, and marked by events of the utmost importance to mankind, such as the discovery of the New World, the invention of printing, the revival of learning, and the founding of universi- ties, was a very dark time for German literature, especially for poetry. Yet it is only by an intimate acquaintance with the growth of opinions during 1350-1525, as expressed in the popular literature, that it is possible fully to understand the great fact of the Reformation. If we imagine that, from the days of the Crusades down to the close of the fifteenth century, a mediaeval Church existed, enjoying all the repose of faith and obedience, and pro- tected externally by a powerful monarchy, and that, then, a courageous monk, offended by a hawker of indulgences, suddenly stepped out of his cell and, by his declamation, shook in pieces the Church and the empire, we have brought before our imagina- tion a very striking spectacle nay, a miracle; but no such miracle ever took place. Luther was a great and an energetic man ; but he did not do that. He rather checked and controlled than created the movement that is for ever associated with his name. Long before his time, the eloquent monk Berthold had gained popularity by the promulgation of democratic doctrines, afterwards widely spread by means of songs and satires ; espe- cially by irreverent stories in which the clergy die Pfaffen were the butts of ridicule. After making large allowance for popular exaggerations, a mass of evidence still remains of the gross degeneracy of the clergy in these times. The monks of St. Gallen, formerly noted for their devotion to useful learning, were now so illiterate that they could not write their own names. The names of TATTLER and GEILEK are so prominent as to indicate that, in their day, few faithful teachers of the people were left in the Church. Geiler, in spite of his eccentricities, was a good re- presentative of a popular preacher ; but the teaching of men of Tauler's school was suited rather to form a select brotherhood of thoughtful and religious men than to supply any basis for a reformation of the Church. Their doctrine was too spiritual and refined for the common people, and was liable to be misunderstood. What the people could most easily accept and apply was its F2 68 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. negative purport that ' the kingdom of heaven ' was to be found in no external church or hierarchy. The positive doctrine, that an internal renovation must supply the true basis for external reformation, was less understood. Miinzer, one of the leaders in the Peasants' War, had studied Taulers writings ; .but knew little of them beyond their negative purport. It is hardly necessary to add, that we are not speaking here of the intrinsic merits of their doctrine, but of its practical tendency, as commonly understood by the people. While the old faith was thus disturbed, and the Church was losing the affections of the people, the affairs of the State were in a condition not less unsatisfactory. The efforts of the Hohenstau- fens to maintain the unwieldy empire founded by Karl the Great left Germany a prey to be contended for by egoistic princes and their parties. Rudolf of Habsburg failed to restore union, partly because he was too much bent on the establishment of his own house, and partly because what he did well was undone by the errors of his followers. The attempts of Heinrich VII. and of Ludwig der Baier to extend their dominion in Italy led to new quarrels with the popes, and were followed by bans, interdicts and anarchy. It might seem impossible that any lord ^of misrule could make worse the disorder existing in the empire under the nominal sway of Wenzel ; but a still more unworthy monarch appeared in Friedrich III., whose cowardice frustrated all the reformatory measures of the Council of Basel. He was sum- moned to appear, as a traitor, before the Fehmgericht of West- phalia, which had partly usurped his imperial authority. It is enough to say of the times when Wenzel and Friedrich III. were only shadows of rulers, that the spread of disorder almost war- ranted the existence of that secret and dreaded Westphalian tribunal, for its reign of terror was better than anarchy. Meanwhile, as the imperial power grew weaker, the people were not gaining liberty, except in those town? which were protected by powerful commercial guilds. Beyond these boundaries knights, barons, and princes exercised authority on Rob Roy's simple plan That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can. Old ballads tell us of ' Epple von Geilingen/ and other titled Dick Turpins, who lived ' by the saddle/ as they said otherwise, V.] TOWNS GUILDS. 69 as moss-troopers and, in several instances, closed tbeir adventures on the ' Rabenstein ' a place set apart for the execution of thieves and murderers. External nature semed to sympathise with the disorder of the times. The oriental plague prevailed in several parts of Germany, and its terrors induced in many minds a tendency to gloomy fanaticism. ' Burnings of the Jews in all the towns along the Rhine,' as an old chronicler says, ' took place because it was believed that the Jews had caused the pestilence.' To call the people to repentance, ' the Brothers of the Scourge ' travelled from town to town, marching in dismal processions, and armed with whips and scourges, with which they publicly lashed them- selves. Forebodings of a coming time of still greater tribulation, or of the end of the world, prevailed generally. One old chroni- cler's book abounds in memoranda of earthquakes, and BRANDT, the satirist, died under a cloud of melancholy, because he believed that the world would soon be drowned. Literature was, on the whole, in good keeping with the realities of the times. It was not indeed all gloomy ; but when not utterly dull and prosaic, it was for the most part either coarse and licentious, or bitterly censorious. Such culture as existed among the people was, like the. com- merce of the times, mostly confined to the larger towns, where guilds were the chief institutions of civilisation. These unions of townsmen arose from the necessity of protecting life and property against the violence of the feudal nobility. Commerce could not exist without the co-operation of men for mutual defence. At first the guild was identical with the whole body of the towns- people ; but when greater distinctions of wealth prevailed in the towns, the rich members of the whole guild became aristocratic acd exclusive, and hence arose the several ' trade companies.' The merchant learned to despise the retail trader, and the leather-seller looked down upon the shoemaker. ' No bakers, nor dealers in hides, nor costermongers who bawl in the streets, nor men with soiled hands and blue nails admitted to the Guild ; ' such were some of the new regulations, and their exclusiveness led to the institution of new guilds for the seveial trades which they represented. Then followed contests between the new com- panies and the oligarchies of the old guilds. Such warfare was waged with bitter animosity in several towns, and sometimes led 70 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEKATUEE. [On. to sanguinary results. Ten members of a working men's guild were burned alive at Magdeburg in 1301, and, after a battle be- tween the Weavers' Company and the oligarchy of Cologne, in 1371, thirty-three of the associated weavers were put to death, and about two thousand including wives and children were banished. Such facts are enough to show that the tendency of society to divide itself into castes was strong in these times a circumstance that helps to explain the institution of the schools or guilds of THE MASTER SINGERS. The foundation of these schools has, without any authority beyond that of probability, been ascribed to HEINRICH FEATJENLOB, a^eady noticed as a writer of lyric and didactic verse ; but it is enough to gay that they arose in several towns in the fourteenth century, when the institution of companies more or less co- operative was the fashion of the times. The German troubadours and romancists of the thirteenth cen- tury had left unnoticed the lives and the interests of the common people, and in the fourteenth century the people took their revenge for that neglect by instituting a literature all their own. Versi- fication, out of fashion at the courts of princes, was now patronised by ropemakers, smiths, bakers, potters, weavers, wheelwrights and tailors ; all had their songs, celebrating their several mysteries. As Gervinus says, ' There was hardly any class in society that did not meddle with versification. . . . Doctors prescribed in Latin and German verse ; astrology and physiognomy were ex- plained in rhymes, and the topographies and histories of several towns were written in verse.' But the art of rhyming was not altogether entrusted to the care of individuals. It had its co- operative stores and its co-operative productive unions. Special guilds, or schools, for the composition and recitation of verse were established at Mayence, Ulm, Niirnberg, and several other towns ; the old ' Singing School ' at Niirnberg was maintained until 1770, and an institution of the same kind was closed at Ulm as lately as in 1839. The motives of the versifying weavers at Ulrn might screen their homely manufactures from ridicule. Their purport was generally moral or religious, and they afforded, at least, a harmless recreation. The shuttle would fly more lightly, while the weaver hummed over his verses and his new tune, prepared for the next meeting of the Singing School. Sunday comes, and a board sus- V.] THE MASTER SINGERS. 71 pended in the church announces that ' the Master Singers will hold a meeting in their school in the evening/ or in the church at the close of the afternoon service. Sometimes, on festive occa- sions, the members and their friends are assembled in the town- hall, where all the proceedings are conducted with a strict atten- tion to order. In the most prominent place three umpires are seated, and in a large oaken chest, placed beside the chief umpire, the properties of the society are deposited. These consist of gold and silver chains, which have been worn by successful candidates for honours. The chief umpire opens the meeting by reciting some passages often taken from the Bible which have been selected as themes for verses. Several compositions are recited, or sung, and faults are noticed. Perhaps a plagiarism is suspected, and hereupon reference is made to a ponderous volume containing the notation of tunes that have already gained prizes. At last, after several compositions have been tried, one candidate is de- clared victorious. Thereupon the president opens the oaken chest, takes out a chaplet, which he places on the head of the victor, whileround his neck he hangs a silver chain with a jewel suspended. These articles still remain the property of the club, but the master singer is allowed to wear them publicly on certain festival days. Gloriously arrayed in these decorations, he will go to recite his verses at a meeting in some neighbouring town, and vanquish all the versifying weavers or shoemakers there assembled. At the close of the meeting the best verses are copied in a large volume, which is the common property of the club. Thus many productions of the master singers have been preserved to modern times ; though few have proved worth all the care bestowed on them. Of POETRY, in the higher sense of the word, there is in this period little or nothing deserving attention. The most important writings of the time are those containing evidences of popular culture, or want of culture. We shall, therefore, pass briefly over some inferior productions in epic and lyric verse, which connect this period with the preceding, and shall chiefly pay attention to the didactic and satirical writings in verse and prose, which, however rude, are characteristic of the times. In speaking thus of several inferior productions in epic verse, we do not include with them the story of the Fox the best imaginative work of the fifteenth century. In the form in which 72 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. it now reappears, it is a free reproduction, in Low German verse, of the Reynard in prose which appeared in the Netherlands in 1479. The story found in the German version of the twelfth century, already noticed (in chap, iii.), is greatly extended and im- proved in the versified Reynke de Vos, printed at Liibeck in 1498, and, with some probability, ascribed to HERMANN BARKHTJSEN, a printer at Rostock. In one point of view, the versifier of this Low German story of Reynard may be described as the best writer of his time ; for he does not fall into the dull didactic style of writers who can do nothing better than compile maxims. He tells the story well, though with a greater fulness of detail than is necessary, and he does not stop to insert sermons. Without doubt, he intended some parts of the tale to have a satirical application ; but he does not interrupt the narrative to intrude his own reflections on his readers. One of the best passages of the story is that which describes the Fox in his most desperate circumstances condemned to death, forsaken by all his friends, and led to the gallows. No- thing can be more reasonable than his last request. If he has not lived well, he wishes to die in an edifying manner, and there- fore begs that he may be allowed to make a public confession and to warn transgressors. The king grants this request ; Reynard mounts the scaffold, and thus confesses his sins : I see not one in all this throng To whom I have not done some wrong ; And now, upon the scaffold here, I wish to make my conscience clear ; I will not even one sin conceal : When but a cub I learned to steal. How well I recollect the day When first I saw young- Iambs at play, And carried off my earliest prey ! From little crimes I passed to great ; The wolf soon chose me as his mate ; ' Our compact ' so he said ' was fated, Because our families were related.' I cannot tell our murders all He killed the great, and I the small ; But this, with death so near, I'll say, He never gave me half the prey. If ever we had slain a calf, Poor Reynard never had the half, Wolf and his wife, with hunger keen, Too often left the bones quite clean, .V.] NARRATIVE AND LYEICAL VERSE. 73 And, even if we had killed an ox, There was but little for the fox. Yet hunger have I never known ; I had a pantry of my own, Of treasure such a plenteous store 'Twould serve me for my life and more.' ' A treasure ! Ha ! What ! ' said the king ; ' Where is it ? ' ' 'Twas a wicked thing ; 'Twas stolen ! ' said the fox, ' and yet That sin I never shall regret. There was a plot with death so near, I'll tell it all ; for now 'tis clear That, to bring foes to tribulation, I'd never risk my soul's salvation There was a plot against the throne, And, with the deepest shame, I'll own. Of all the traitors, that the first Was my own father, and the worst ; Out of his treasure he would pay The villains hired the king to slay, And, when I stole it, loss of pelf So vexed him that he hanged himself.' These dark insinuations serve their purpose ; the queen, of course, longs to know all about that treasure, and to possess it ; while the king wishes to have full information of the plot against his own life. Accordingly, Reynard is reprieved, and, in meek triumph over his foes, comes down from the scaffold. Then follow^ another long series of impositions, slanders, and falsehoods, all associated with admirable self-possession and audacity, and mostly successful. As an ill-used subject, Reynard first gains royal sympathy, and f then becomes eminently pious. Though he has well defended himself from the charges preferred against him by his foes the wolf, the bear, and others his conscience has be- come so tender that he must go to Rome, to receive, at head- quarters, absolution for the peccadilloes of his youth. On his return from this pilgrimage he is revered as a saint, and, as a reward for all his cunning, is elevated to the rank of Lord High Chancellor and Privy Seal of the realm governed by King Nobel. When compared with the story of the Fox, the epic poem of Thetterdank, though planned by the Emperor MAXIMILIAN I. the last representative of the age of chivalry is hardly worth naming. The emperor suggested a plot founded on some adven- tures of his own youth especially his courtship of Maria of 74 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATURE. [On. Burgundy and gave it, to be turned into an epic, to one of his secretaries, who, after doing his work badly, handed it over, to be made worse, to another secretary, who added some moral reflections. The result of the labours of the trio including an emperor was a very dull production ; but it was well printed, and illustrated with one hundred and eighteen woodcuts, at Niirnberg, in 1517. The second edition (1519) is good; but the third (1537) is inferior, especially in the woodcuts. Having failed in verse, the emperor wrote a sketch of his own life in prose, and gave it, to be extended and edited, to the secretary who had been first employed upon Th&uerdank. This prose work, entitled Weisskuniff, has some biographical value, especially in the second part, which gives an account of the emperor's studies for the improvement of artillery. Das Jfeldenbuch, founded on old national legends and printed about the close of the fifteenth century, was far better than Das Netie Heldenbuch, another work of the same class, compiled about 1472. These attempts to revive old heathen legends were both more tolerable than a half-epic, half-allegorical work entitled Die Morin by HERMANN VON SACH- SENHEIM, who died in 1458. He attempts to tell a romantic tale of ' Frau Venus,' the knight ' Tanhauser,' and ' faithful Eckart,' and, when he finds his powers of . imagination failing, turns to dry 'didactic writing, and fills up his book with commonplace declam- ations against princes, wealthy merchants, and the clergy. Among several writers of historical poems two or three deserve notice, because they described the events of their own times. MICHAEL BEHEIM, for example, who died in 1474, wrote in his Such van den Wienern an account of the insurrection of the people of Vienna against their servile emperor, Friedrich III., who was mainly responsible for the chaotic condition of both the Church and the State in his time. It has been said that Beheim's ac- count of the insurrection 'has a considerable historical value,' because he was an eye-witness of what he tells ; but he was utterly venal, and wrote what he thought would please the emperor who paid him. Another heraldic versifier, PETER DER SUCHENWIRT, describes, in his historical verses entitled JEhrenreden, many of the events of his time, especially the battle of Sempach, which is more popularly narrated in a ballad by HALB SITTER, who seems to have been one of the combatants against Austria. HALB tells how Arnold von V.] NARRATIVE AND LYRICAL VERSE. 75 Winkelried made a gap in the close ranks of the Austrian nobles, who were armed with spears, and fought on foot : Then ' Ha ! ' said Winkelried, ' my brethren, every one, I'll make for you a road, and thus it shall be done ; If Switzerland hath need, a Switzer's heart shall bleed ; To break their close array, I give my life to-day.' The foemen's spears he grasped with both his arms, and pressed, All in a bundle bound, their points upon his breast ; And so he made a way for the Switzers on that day, As he had truly spoken ; for the Austrian ranks were broken. Several ballads by VEIT WEBER especially one on ' the Battle of Murten ' and some war songs, telling of the deeds of the Ditmarsen men of West Holstein, are noticeable for their connec- tion with history. Der Hitter von Staufenberg is an anonymous narrative poem of the fifteenth century which we cannot classify. It tells the story of a knight, whose bride, elected for him by fate, is a fairy. This strange poem seems to have suggested some of the incidents in the well-known story of ' Undine.' The few attempts made to continue the lyric strains of a bygone time may be briefly noticed. One of the latest of the knights who wrote Minnelieder was OSWALD VON WOLKENSTEIN, born in 1367, a military adventurer, who wandered in England, Scotland, Bohemia, Palestine, and Spain. His verses give many incidents of his life, and are not without merit with regard to their style. The same praise may be given to some lyrical poems ascribed to MUSCATBLUT, who seems to have lived early in the fifteenth cen- tury. The didactic and satirical temper of his times is expressed in one of his productions, oddly entitled, ' A Great Lie.' It celebrates the patriotism of princes, the equity of judges, and the piety of the clergy. The characteristic discontent of the period finds another form of expression in the religious lyrics of HEINRICH VON LATJFENBERG. They say nothing of the heroism of endurance nor of peace sought in the fulfilment of duty ; but utter a rest- less longing to retire from the world. ' I long to be at home ; to be at home in heaven ! ' says Heinrich in some verses nearly as popular in their tone as the hymns used in modern Sunday schools. For heartiness and vigour of expression several popular songa by unknown authors must be commended, and the same praise belongs to the Bacchanalian songs of HANS ROSENBLXJX. Our 76 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. statement, that versification was a popular amusement in those days, might be confirmed by reference to numerous proverbs, riddles, and tricks in verse such, for instance, as reserving all the sense of an epigram for the last line. There prevailed, in fact, a mania for making rhymes. When Berthold, the popular preacher, wished to impress a few words on the memories of his hearers, he called for a versifier : ' Now if there is any ballad-maker in my congregation, let him mark these words, and put them into a song, and let it be short and sweet, and ring so prettily that the little children may learn it and sing it.' This fashion of rhyming increased in inverse ratio with the growth of true poetry. The dramatic productions of the later middle ages have con- siderable interest in the history of culture, but are destitute of literary merit. It may be assumed that the earlier religious plays, written in Latin, were introduced by monks as substitutes for some rude dramatic performances of heathen origin. The events celebrated by the Church at Christmas, on Good Friday, and at Easter, supplied the materials for dramas of very simple construc- tion, which were recited rather than acted in churches. But when the vernacular tongue had been adopted in these sacred plays, and popular taste had insisted on the intrusion of comic interludes in them, their performance in churches was forbidden. The people were then amused with theatrical representations given, on a larger scale, in the open air. A stage with nine stories was erected at Metz in 1427. Properties were collected without any regard for correct costume. A burgomaster's robe might fit either Judas or Gabriel. The clergy performed in the serious parts of the play, and the comic interludes were supplied by the laity and by professional buffoons. The mixture of sacred and comic subjects was often offensive in the highest degree ; for the most solemn events recorded in the Gospels were associated with gro- tesque circumstances. The characters introduced in these plays became more and more numerous ; and the performance of a drama sometimes occupied two or three days. These amusements were continued after the Reformation. A grand spectacle-play, in fifty acts, performed in 1571, required the services of one hundred players and five hundred pantomimists ; and in 1593, Johann Brummer put into a dramatic form the greater part of the Acts of the Apostles. In one of the oldest Easter plays ' the Innspruck Play ' of the fourteenth century the serious parts of V.] THE DRAMA. 77 the plot are relieved by the appearance of the clown, ' Rubin,' and several other comic characters, who perform an absurd interlude as far out of place as possible. The 'Alsfelder Passion Play,' of the fifteenth century, is, in some respects, worse than the above- named ; chiefly on account of a gross misrepresentation of the character of ' Maria Magdalena,' who here comes upon the stage dancing among a crowd of demons. In another play Frau Jutten, written, most probably, in the fifteenth century the plot is founded on the ridiculous fable of the feminine pope, Johanna. We may notice, in passing, that the ' Oberammergau Passion Play,' performed by Bavarian peasants in 1871, cannot be traced farther back than 1654. It is throughout serious, and free from the objectionable traits of the mediaeval dramas we have noticed. Its performance repeated with intervals of ten years has had, it is said, a good moral effect on the people of Oberammergau. The Fastnachtsspiek ' Shrove Tuesday Plays ' were rude in every sense of the word, and were mostly performed by journey- men and apprentices, who went from house to house and levied contributions. It seems hardly credible that such dialogues as are found in these pieces could have bden patronised by assembled families, including both sons and daughters : but there can be no doubt of the fact. Many pieces begin alike : a herald begs the attention of the audience ; then follow some indecorous dialogues, intended to be amusing, and concluding with an apology, urgently required. Two of the most fertile inventors of such dialogues were ROSENBLTJT and FOLZ, master singers at Niirnberg. The offences that would have justified their expulsion from the singing- school of that old town were repeated in their plays, which sometimes ended with an apology like this : If aught offend you in our rhyme, Remember, 'tis a merry time, And Lent is quickly coming on, When all our frolics will be done ! To give a notion of the simplicity of the plot in a Shrove Tuesday play, we may take one of the most decorous specimens ' The Emperor and the Abbot.' Here is the old story of which the people never grew weary the triumph of native wit over learning. The emperor proposes three hard questions to the abbot, who, of course, cannot answer them, and, to avoid the penalty attached to his failure, consults a miller noted for his 78 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. ready wit, as well as for stealing corn. The miller treats the churchman's dulness with contempt, puts on the abbot's robes, and, in the emperor's presence, solves the three problems. He is, of course, installed in the place of the incapable abbot, and, though a boor now comes forward and accuses the miller of theft, this is not regarded as a disqualification for his new office. Another boor contradicts the accuser, and a fray seems likely to follow, when a third boor steps forward and proposes a rustic dance, with which the performance concludes. One of Rosenbliit's pieces contains unsparing satire on the upper classes. The Grand Sultan comes from Constantinople to Niirnberg, in order to reprove the clergy and the nobility for their vices. There is in this piece a noticeable reference to the independence of the guild of Niirnberg. The representatives of the pope, the emperor, and the princes rail against ' the great Turk ' for his interference with their affairs of government, and threaten to put him to death ; but the Bin-germeister of Niirnberg steps boldly forward and declares that, in spite of the pope, the emperor, and the princes, ' the great Turk,' who has told them the truth, shall be defended by the citizens, and shall have safe conduct back to his own dominions. In PROSE FICTION some translations by Niklas von Wyle, who was a schoolmaster at Zurich in 1445-47, and others by Heinrich Steinhowel, a surgeon at Ulm, and Albrecht von Eyb, a canon at Bamberg (1420-83), deserve notice as contributions to an im- proved style of prose. But the most interesting prose transla- tions of the time are those of ' The Seven Wise Masters ' and the Gesta Romanornm. The first of these favourite books of mediaeval times had an oriental origin, and was probably intro- duced into Europe during the Crusades. A Latin version was written about 1184, and was followed by translations in several European languages. The authorship of the Gesta JRomanorum, at first written in mediaeval Latin, has been, with some probability, ascribed to a monk named HELINAND, who died in 1227. The book, which consists of fables, anecdotes, and passages from Roman history (so called) all given in a mediaeval style sup- plied light reading for monks, and was afterwards used as a fund of materials for fabulists, novelists, and such versifiers as Hans Sachs. The German translation was first printed at Augsburg in 1498. VI.] SATIRES. 79 CHAPTER VI. THIRD PERIOD. 1350-1525. SATIRES COMIC STOEIES BRANDT GEILEE MURNER. SATIRE was the chief characteristic of these times, and found utterance in many popular stories, in verse and prose. Though these are often very low and coarse, both in style and in choice of subjects, they are parts of the literature of the fifteenth century too prominent to be left unnoticed. A fair description of them is attended, however, with some difficulty, as SEBASTIAN BRANDT indicates, in his ' Ship of Fools,' where he speaks of some popular jest-books and satires of his time : ' Frivolity and coarseness are canonised in our day,' he says ; ' he who can make the most unseemly jest especially on some serious subject is esteemed the greatest genius. This low taste of the people may be partly ascribed to the neglect of our so-called wise men, or scholars, who study everything, and are ready to teach anything, save good morals for the people. So learning itself is made to appear ridiculous, and, while our scholars are studying necromancy, astrology, alchemy, and other quackeries, the multitude are left in gross ignorance, and laugh at everything that is wise and good. And this great invention of printing does not mend the matter ; for the printers care not what kind of books they send into the world, but circulate fortune-telling pamphlets, scandalous satires, and anything that will sell.' The chief objects of the satires here referred to are the clergy and the nobility ; but the wealthy townsmen are not spared. The peasantry are mostly allowed to escape easily, and the boor, who is often the hero of a comic story, though illiterate, and not without a taint of the rogue in his character, is described as having such a rude force of native wit that he can refute the clergy, answer questions proposed by 80 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. doctors and lawyers, and reduce a bishop to silence. The coming times of the Peasants' War were foreshadowed in this comic literature, which retained its popularity in the sixteenth century. One collection of comic and satirical stories, edited by a monk, JOHANNES PAULI, in 1522, soon passed through thirty editions. If a monk was as free as we find Brother Pauli, in his censures of the clergy and the nobility, the reader may guess what the greater freedom of the people must have been ; and if DR. GEILER, the celebrated preacher of Strassburg, could introduce in a sermon a popular tale of a boor reproving a bishop, it is easy to surmise what might be said out of church. The prevailing temper of the day found expression in free and coarse satires, marked by contempt of authority, ridicule of the pretensions of the educated classes, and a mockery of things represented as sacred. It has already been shown how, in the story of ' Parson Amis,' a beneticed clergyman is represented as gaining his livelihood by a series of impositions. In a later story of the same class, ' the Parson of Kalenberg ' sells bad wine at a high price, and attracts customers by announcing that, on a certain day, he will take a flight from the top of the steeple. The peasantry are collected in great numbers to witness the feat. It is a hot day, and as the pastor keeps his flock long waiting, while he is trimming his pinions, they are glad to drink his sour wine and to pay for it. At last, he asks if anyone present can give evidence of such a flight having been safely made, and when they say ' No,' he tella them he will not attempt it. In another popular tale, the parish priest is described as so fatuous, that he cannot remember the order of the days of the week. To help his memory, he makes, on every week-day, one birch-broom, and, by placing his six brooms in a row and frequently counting them, he knows when Sunday comes, and prepares to read mass. A wag steals away the broom that should mark Saturday, and on Sunday morning the priest is found making another broom instead of going to church. In a story quoted by Geiler in a sermon, we find a bishop riding out at the head of forty mounted attendants. He sees a boor standing still, staring, as in great amazement, and reproves him for this rudeness. ' I would have you understand,' says the rich churchman, ' that I am not only a bishop, but also a temporal prince. If you wish to see me as a bishop, you must come to church.' ' But,' says the boor, * when the enemy at last runs VI.] SATIRES COMIC STORIES. 81 away with the prince, where will the bishop be found ? ' In another story we are introduced to a priest whose morals are bad, though he is a good preacher. He is grieved to find that his flock obstinately follow his example, rather than his advice, and thus exposes their error. On a certain day, after long wet weather, he leads a procession through the village, and walks resolutely through the deepest mire he can find. The people refuse to tread in his footsteps. ' That is right,' says the priest ; ' attend in future to what I say in my sermons, and never notice what I do.' These are tame examples of some of the satires levelled against the clergy, but, for the obvious reasons which BBANDT points out, the choice of specimens is limited. There are many stories more objectionable than the following : ' The wife of a nobleman was deeply grieved on account of the death of a pet spaniel, and begged that its remains might be buried in consecrated soil. Her husband bribed the parish priest, and the burial took place according to the lady's wish. When the bishop heard of it, he sent for the offending priest, and told him he must be excommunicated. " But I received a large bribe," said the priest, in order to excuse what he had done. " How much ? " asked the bishop ; and the offender answered, " Four hundred florins." " Four hundred florins ! " the bishop exclaimed, in great amazement ; " and did you read the full service ? " " Certainly not," said the priest, now hoping to escape. " Then I must fine you," said the bishop, <( for that omission, after re- ceiving such a liberal fee. Hand over to me the four hundred florins." ' Popular satires on the rapacity of the aristocracy are mostly too earnest to be humorous. In one, for example, we read of a youth found guilty of highway robbery and hurried away to be executed. Some noblemen, passing by, are disposed to intercede for his life, but when they are told the crime of which . he has been guilty they have no mercy for him. They care nothing for his crime in itself; but ' lie has usurped,' they say, ' one of the chief privileges of the nobility.' 'A fine nobility that!' says Brother Pauli; ' thank God we have nothing like it now ' (1522). But this thanks- giving must have been ironical ; for, as late as about 1555, old Gb'tz von Berlichingen wrote an account of his own forays against travelling merchants, describing his robberies as if they had been the innocent pastimes of his childhood. a 82 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. A long ballad of the fifteenth century, already referred to, describes the justice and kindness of many knights and barons in their conduct towards their inferiors; but, at the close, the writer says that he has been trying to utter ' the greatest possible untruth.' Several satires directed against wealthy townspeople, their guilds and their growing liberties, may be briefly passed over. In one instance, at least, the rude invectives of the peasants were well retorted by a townsman, HELNRICH WITTENWEILER, who lived in the fifteenth century. In a long versified story, entitled ' The Ring,' he gives, in a mock-heroic style, the details of a boor's wedding, and merry-making, which are followed by a fray. The coarse humour of some parts of this story proves that the author was very well matched against the boors ; though in other passages he writes with sobriety and good taste. His purport, he tells us, was didactic ; but he was compelled to deco- rate his story with grotesque features in order to suit the popular taste. That the people relished satire and humour, however gross, was sufficiently proved by the success of many stories invented Di- versified by such writers as HANS ROSENBLTTT and HANS FOLZ, both members of the Master Singers' School at Nurnberg in the fifteenth century. If all their jocose stories were recited in that school, it was not very strictly conducted. We refer to them as fair representatives of many comic narratives of domestic immo- rality. The following anecdote, intended to show the folly of extreme kindness, is one of the least objectionable of this class : 'A bad wife, who had often been brought before the magistrates, was at last sentenced to stand in the pillory. Her husband begged that he might be allowed to suffer the punishment instead of his wife, and his request was granted when he had bribed the magistrates. He stood in the pillory for some hours, and endured all the disgrace which the woman had merited. Some short time afterwards, when his wife had returned to her evil ways, and he found it impossible to live in peace with her, he reproached her, and told her how often she had brought disgrace on his household. ' It may be all true,' said the wife, when several of her sins had been named, ' but I can say at least one good thing for myself : I have never stood in the pillory ! ' A passing notice must be given of the popular nonsense of such books as Ettlenspieyel and Die Schildbiirger. The first of these jest-books was edited "in 1519 by a monk VI.] COMIC STOEIES. 83 THOMAS MTTKNER who collected a number of jocose stories long current among the people. Eulenspiegel, the hero of the tales, was by birth a peasant, but gained his notoriety as a wandering journeyman, and concealed a love of fun and mischief under the disguise of extraordinary simplicity. His chief characteristic makes him a model for attorneys. In obedience to all instructions given by his .masters, he accepts their words in a strictly literal sense, and so as to pervert their mean- ing. He always means well ; his purpose is honest, and his dispo- sition is obliging ; but his mental vision is oblique, like that of Ralph in ' Hudibras,' who by fair logic could defend almost any absurdity. A furrier gives Master Eulenspiegel orders to make some fur-coats of wolves' skins, and, for the sake of brevity, calls them ' wolves ; ' the honest journeyman, therefore, stuffs the hides with hay, and sends them back as preserved specimens of the species cants lupus. When the furrier refuses to pay for these curiosities, Eulenspiegel complains as an ill-used working-man, and at the same time gives his master a lesson on the correct use of language. ' If you wanted fur-coats made from the skins of wolves,' says Eulenspiegel, ' why did you not tell me so plainly ? ' The popularity of Eulenspiegel may be partly ascribed to the coarseness of some of his jokes. A considerable amount of learn- ing has been expended on the derivation of his name, but it still remains doubtful. It has been asserted by several writers that ' Tyll Euleuspiegel ' actually lived, ' probably in the early part of the fourteenth century ; ' that ' he travelled mostly in the north of Germany, and at last settled at Mollen near Liibeck, where he was buried in 1350,' and that ' long after that time his grave used to be visited by wandering journeymen and others.' No good authority can be referred to for these statements. Eulenspiegel's jokes were, most probably, both invented and circulated by wan- dering Gesellen journeymen tailors, shoemakers, and joiners who had a literature of their own in these times. Another series of popular stories tells us how, in old times, ' the men of Schilda ' a town in Prussian Saxony were so wise that their advice on the management of goverment affairs was eagerly sought after by many foreign princes. The result was that ' the wise men ' were very seldom found at home, and their own affairs were allowed to fall into a ruinous condition. Their wives then called the philosophers back to Schilda, and, in a general council, G2 84 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. it was resolved that, for the future, their wisdom should be con- cealed under a pretence of extreme folly. This, at last, became their second nature ; so that they were incapable of managing their own estates, and Schilda was again in great adversity. Numerous emigrations then followed ; the men of Schilda went forth, and settled in all the surrounding lands, and this explains the fact that their descendants are now found everywhere. The preceding notices of a popular literature characterised mostly by its satirical spirit may serve to explain the remarkable popularity of Das Narrenschiff (' The Ship of Fools '), printed at Basel in 1494. Though it had no beauty of style, its superiority to the ordinary didactic and satirical books of the times was soon recognised by the educated classes. Ten editions of the book were issued before the close of the year 1512 ; it was soon trans- lated into Latin, English, and French, and Geiler, the popular preacher, chose it as his text-book for a series of sermons. SEBASTIAN BRANDT, the writer of this successful book, was bom in 1458 at Strassburg, where he was appointed town-clerk in 1503, and died in 1521. He was the friend of Dr. Geiler, and was patronised by the emperor Maxmilian I. Of all the satirists of this period Brandt was the most amiable. He felt grief for the errors and miseries of the age, and his latest years were darkened by a foreboding that the world would perish in a second general deluge in 1524. In his ' Ship ' the author arranges ' fools ' in one hundred and ten classes ; but in describing them he writes with- out a plan, and his book is a series of ill-connected homilies, pro- verbs, and complaints on such topics as the decay of true religion and the growth of infidelity and superstition. One of his best sermons is on the moral training of children, and another is di- rected against the contempt of poverty. He generally reproves without bitterness and, with good humour, classes himself with 1 the fools who buy more books than they can read and under- stand.' Among several passages illustrative of the rude manners of the age, one of the more remarkable refers to gross disorder in places of worship. The satirist might well have been more severe than he is in describing ' the fools who bring their hounds to church, and strut about and chatter loudly while the Mass is read.' GEILER, in one of his sermons, makes the same complaint. ' Another sign of a fool,' he says, ' is disturbing divine worship, as some do who come into the church with their birds and their VI.] BRANDT GEILERMURNER. 85 dogs, as if they were going out hawking or hunting. What with the tinklings of their hawks' bells and the snarling of their hounds, neither the preacher nor the choristers can be heard.' To make his complaint more remarkable, the preacher refers to men in holy orders who were guilty of such gross irreverence. In these notices of literature in its connection with the faith and the morals of the age the sermons of GEILEB (1445-1510) must be mentioned with respect. Though he stooped too low in his endeavours to win the attention of the people, he was a faith- ful and practical teacher. In a series of discourses ' on the sins of the tongue,' one of the best is on a topic that would hardly be here expected silence. The preacher ascribes all due praise to silence, but condemns it when it has for its motive either indolence, or pride, or cowardice. The discourse is very distinctly arranged, but has too many subdivisions. As an example of the preacher's extreme condescension, one sermon is noticeable in which he deduces moral lessons from natural history. He tells his congrega- tion that a hare has long ears, which are quick in catching sounds, ' and these signify the attention with which we should hear the Bible read ; ' and that a hare can run better up-hill than down, which shows that a Christian should be active in climbing up the hill of virtue. When a lion had been exhibited in a show at Strassburg, the preacher followed, as a competitor for popular attention, with a sermon on ' the lion of hell.' It is possible that some of the eccentricities of Geiler's sermons may be ascribed to their editors, for among them we find Johannes Pauli, already named as a collector of jokes. We have already alluded to a satirist far more energetic than SEBASTIAN BRANDT a restless, wandering, polemic monk named THOMAS MURNER, who may be regarded as an extreme represen- tative of all the discontent of the times in which he lived. He was born at Strassburg in 1475, and, after studying in several schools at Paris, Cologne, Prague, and Vienna, was crowned poet laureate by the Emperor Maximilian I. The rest of his biography is a report of controversies in which he was incessantly engaged. One of the first was that of the Dominicans and the Franciscans respecting the immaculate conception. In early life Murner was the friend of Reuchlin, and at its close he was one of the bitterest enemies of Luther. No class of society was ?afe from Murner's eatire. He wrote against bishops, reformers, monks, nuns, noble- 86 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. men, and lawyers. ULRICH VON HUTTEN, who was a champion for the Reformation with both sword and pen, and the principal writer of the celebrated ' Epistolse Virorum Obscurorum,' agreed on many points with Murner, yet was not spared by him. The polemic monk travelled hither and thither with no fixed purpose in life, and hardly anywhere failed in making enemies. In 1512 he published one of his chief works, Die Narrenbeschworung (' The Exorcism of Fools '), which was suggested by Brandt's Narren- schiff, but was not an imitation. Another of Murner's satires, Die Schelmcnzuttft (' The Rogues' Club '), consists of the substance of a series of sermons preached by the author at Frankfurt. Its style is low and coarse, but he pleads that the public liked it. 4 Some tell me,' he says, ' to remember my sacred calling, and to write seriously on religious subjects ; but the fact is, I have written about fifty serious books, and the publishers will not even look at them. So I have locked up all my divinity iu a chest. And, as it is now counted a degradation to write German rhymes, I must plead that I cannot help it ; for when I try to write sober prose, I find my pen running into rhymes against my own purpose.' Nothing can exceed the violence of Murner's declamations against simony, secular church patronage, and the luxurious lives of the superior clergy ; nor are the laity spared. He denounces especially their oppressive taxation of the poor. ' When a hen lays an egg,' he says, ' the landlord takes the .yolk, his lady has the white, and the boor is allowed to keep the shell.' Murner's best work, ' The Great Lutheran Fool, as exorcised by Dr. Murner ' (1522), strictly belongs to the sixteenth century ; but may be noticed here, that we may more speedily close our interview with this polemic monk. In this satire he introduces Luther as commander-in-chief of a large army marching in three divisions. The infantry carry a flag with the word ' Gospel ' con- spicuously displayed ; the banner of the cavalry has the inscrip- tion ' Freedom,' and the baggage have for their motto ' The Truth.' As they march along, they boast of their exclusive possession of these three flags. We give a condensation rather than a full translation of a few lines from this part of the satire : Forth out of Babylon we go To make the loftiest mountains low, To lift the valley and the plain. Our Luther tells us to abstain From all good works, and not in vain VI.] MURNER. 87 Whatever he commands we do ; For all that Luther says is true. Murner then goes on to say that all the three banners carried by the insurgents have been stolen. ' The evangelical flag,' he says, has been the property of the faithful for more than fifteen hundred years. f The truth ' belongs to no individual man, but to the whole congregation of believers, and Christian ' freedom ' is understood only by Catholics. Luther leads on his forces to destroy churches and monasteries, but Murner and his friends offer a stout resistance. A hard fight is followed by a truce and oddly enough by Murner's marriage with one of Luther's daughters! What this incident may be intended to symbolise we cannot even guess. The leader of the faithful is, however, disappointed in matrimony, and soon divorces his wife. Hostilities are resumed and continued until the death of Luther makes an end of the war. He is buried with contempt, as a heretic, and Murner, with great delight, acts as conductor at a charivari, or ' concert of cats' music,' vigorously performed at the grave of the reformer ! In 1523, soon after the publication of the satire on Luther, its author was invited to England by King Henry VIII., in whose defence he had written a tract with a strange title ' Is the King of England a Liar ? or is Luther ? ' In the same year Murner returned to Strassburg, and there set up his own press; for he could not find printers for his violent satires. He was busy in preparing some new work, when his house was plundered and his press broken in pieces by a mob. Murner then escaped from Strassburg, and in 1529 arrived, in a state of utter destitution, at Lucerne, where a public subscription was made to provide for him a new suit of clothes. His restless life closed in mystery, all that is known further being that, some short time before 1537, he found rest in the grave. Whatever may be thought of the quality of Murner's writings, they deserve notice as representing the temper of his times times when men, on both sides of the great controversy then waged, were wanting in self-knowledge and charity. Under their zeal for opinions they often concealed pride, self-will, and malice. Their tenets were forms behind which not seldom lurked a self- asserting will. Satirists like Murner have a burning zeal for truth, but hardly see the results to which they lead men. If 88 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cut, error has an overwhelming majority, what hope is there for the truth ? If all the world has always been wrong, why not distrust the satirist himself? Whatever the errors of society, they will not be corrected by abstract maxims. The polemic writer often assumes as an axiom that, since his opponents are wrong, he must be right if two dark colours differ by a shade, one must be white. But it is clear that of two contending parties both may be in error, and the truth may rest with a third, not involved in their dispute. Murner had many followers who, dissenting from his opinions, were like him in temper. He was one of the earliest of the bitter polemic writers of the sixteenth century, and his name has, therefore, suggested remarks that may be applied as fairly to some of his opponents as to himself. Our view of this closing period of the Middle Ages has been, on the whole, gloomy. The impression we have received from the low imaginative literature of the times, ia not removed when we turn to history. VII.] CHKONICLES OF TOWXS. 89 CHAPTER VII. THIRD PERIOD. 1350-1 525. CHRONICLES OF TOWNS DIDACTIC PROSE THE MYSTICS TAUUEE ' DER FBANCXFOHTER.' AMONG the chroniclers of the period, one of the earliest was FRITZSCHE CLOSENER, a canon of Strassburg, who died in 1384. He wrote, in very simple prose, a record of the chief events of his times, and his chronicle excepting, perhaps, the notes on frequent earthquakes seems trustworthy. The most interesting passages are those which describe the spread of the pestilence, the perse- cutions of the Jews, and the processions of the flagellants. His account of the 'black death' so the epidemic of the times was called makes it clear that it was the Oriental plague. ' In the year 1349,' he says, ' when the flagellants came to Strassburg, there was a mortality among the people, such as had never been known before, and it continued all the time the flagellants stayed with us, but abated when they went away. Every dciy, in each parish, from eight to ten corpses were buried in the churchyard, to say nothing of many others interred near convents and at the hospital. The old graveyard of the hospital was found too small, and they added a large piece of garden-ground to it. All who died of the pest had boils or tumours, mostly under their arms, and after these appeared the plague-stricken died generally on the third or fourth day ; but some died on the first day. The plague was clearly infectious, for it seldom happened that only one died in a house.' ' In the same year,' he tells us, in his own calm style, ' on St. Feltin's Day, the Jews were burned on a wooden H^aflbld set up in the churchyard. Such burnings of Jews took place not only in Strassburg, but in all the towns along the Khine, because the people believed that the Jews had brought the pestilence among us by putting poison into the springs and other waters. In some places the Jews were burned after a form of 90 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. trial, but in others their houses were fired, and they were not allowed to escape from the flames.' Closener's account of the flagellants is striking enough to merit a succinct quotation : In the same year (1349) two hundred brethren of the scourge came to Strassburg. They marched into the town, two and two abreast, chanting a lamentation, and carrying banners and lighted candles, while, as they came into the town, the bells of the cathedral were tolled. When they entered a church, they first all kneeled down and chanted a hymn beginning thus : ' For drink they gave to Jesu gall : Here, fellow-sinners, let us fall.' . . . Then, extending their arms, and making themselves so many likenesses of the cross, they fell all at once, with a loud clapping sound, flat on the pave- ment. Twice a day, early and late, they publicly scourged themselves with knotted cords, and this was their fashion of doing it : The bells of the cathedral were tolled as they marched two and two abreast out of the town into the open field. There, having stripped themselves down to the waist, they lay down on the grass, so as to form a wide circle, and each brother, by his mode of lying down, confessed the chief sin of which he had been guilty. Thus one guilty of perjury lay on one side and raised his hand, with three fingers extended. . . . Then, at their master's bidding, they arose in suc- cession, and some of their best singers sang a hymn beginning with the lines t ' Come hither all who would not dwell For ever in the flames of hell ! ' . . . And, while they were singing, the brethren went round about in a ring, and scourged their naked backs until the blood flowed freely from many of them. Then they fell again to the earth, and remained lying there, with arms extended in the fashion of a cross, until the singing men began a hymn on the crucifixion : ' Maria stood, with anguish sighing, While on the cross her Son was dying.' . . . Whereupon the flagellants arose, and repeated their scourging of them- selves ; and this was done again and again. . . . Then there was read to them a letter brought, it was said, from heaven by an angel. It told how, for the sins of the times, plague and famine, fire and earthquake, had visited the land, and how the Saracens had been allowed to shed much Christian blood ; and it threatened that, if men would not repent, strange wild beasts and birds, such as were never seen before, would be sent to make desolate all the land. . . . Also the angel's letter commanded that Sundays and Saints' Days should be strictly observed. . . . The people at first believed in the letter, and in the sayings of the flagellants, more than in all that the priests said, and the clergy who talked against the brethren of the scourge did not gain the favour of the people. . . . Women formed themselves into companies to imitate the flagellants, and even children gathered together to whip themselves. ... In the course of time, however, the Strassburg people grew weary of the brethren, and would not have the minster bell tolled for their processions, and at last a law was made, that whoever wished to scourge himself must do it privately in his own dwelling. VII.] CHRONICLES OF TOWNS. 91 The canon ends his chronicle with one more earthquake, very briefly mentioned; thus: 'In the year 1362, on the morning of Sunday, the ninth day after St. Peter's, and while they were chanting matins in the minster, there was an earthquake. On the same day this book was finished by Fritzsche Closener, a priest at Strassburg.' His chronicle was extended by JAKOB TWINGER, who died at Strasshurg in 1420. Several books of the same class such as the ' Limburg Chro- nicle,' a ' History of Breslau in 1440-79,' by PETER ESCHENLOER, and ' The Chronicle of the Holy City of Cologne,' by an unknown author, supply some interesting facts respecting the growth of the towns and their government. Two writers, both named DIEBOLD SCHILLING one of Solothurn, who died in 1485; the other of Lucerne, who died about 1520 must be named as the best Swiss chroniclers of their times. JTJSTINGER, who died in 1426, and FRICKHARD, who died, in his ninetieth year, in 1519, both wrote of the history of Berne, and MELCHIOR Russ, who was living near the close of the fifteenth century, wrote the annals of Lucerne. In the general ' Chronicle of the Swiss Confederation,' by PETER- MANX ETTERLIN, who died in 1507, the former part is fabulous ; but the notices of affairs in his own time have some historical value. Was there in these times no better German literature than such as has been described ? Yes ; but it belonged to another world, not to the world of contentions and divisions represented in such literature as we have noticed. The meditative men of the times, the Mystics, knew that the world around them required a reno- vation, not external, but spiritual and deep, and that this renova- tion must take place, first of all, in the reformer's own mind. So they retired from the strife of society to find or to make peace in the world of their own thoughts. Their writings would deserve notice, if only on account of their improved prose style. JOHANNES TATJLEK, born, probably at Strassburg, about 1290, died in 1361. In early life he entered the Dominican Order, and was, for a time, the pupil of Eckhart. After studying metaphysics and divinity, Tauler wrote and preached many ser- mons, displayed considerable learning in theology, and gained a reputation before he was fifty years old. At that time he received 92 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. a visit from a layman, Nicolaus of Basel, the head of a religious brotherhood. This visitor told the great preacher that his sermons were worthless, and that his knowledge of theology was merely intellectual and not spiritual. Tauler, believing his new teacher, abstained from preaching for two years, and then once more appeared in the pulpit. He now preached with greater depth of thought and feeling, and, at the same time, more practically. Neither pantheistic nor passive, his mysticism was united with a burning zeal for the welfare of his hearers. Many passages in his sermons are full of the eloquence not derived from studied diction, but springing immediately from the heart. ' True humiliation,' he says in one place, 'is an impregnable fortress. All the world may try to carry it by storm ; but they cannot.' . . . ' Dear soul,' he says again, ' sink into the abyss of thine own nothingness, and then let a tower fall to crush thee : or all the demons from hell oppose thee ; or heaven and earth, with all their creatures, set themselves in battle array against thee they shall not prevail, but shall be made to serve thee.' Such was Tauler's preaching on his favourite theme. Why or how we cannot clearly say, but he offended his ecclesiastical superiors, and, though he had de- votedly laboured to spread the consolations of religion among the people during the prevalence of the plague (in 1348), he was forbidden to preach and was driven away from Strassburg. His chief work, besides a series of sermons, is entitled Die Nachfolge des armen Lebens Christi, which may be translated freely as * The Imitation of Christ in His Humiliation.' The doctrine most prominent in the writings of Tauler and his friends is that religion is neither a history nor an external institu- tion, but a life in the souls of men. All that is represented as externally or historically true must be conceived in the soul and realised in experience before it can become spiritually true. But the word ' spiritual,' as u?sd by Tauler, is not to be understood in a negative or merely internal sense ; for he teaches that what is spiritual is also practical. There are superficial thoughts that have no power and lead to no practice ; but there are also thoughts that are essentially united with deep feeling and a corresponding practice, and these are spiritual thoughts. Tauler and other Mystics, while they assert the necessary union of religious thought with good works, dwell rather on the internal source than on the outward results. ' One thought of God, attended with absolute VII.] TAULEK. 93 resignation to His will, is worth more,' says Tauler, ' than all the good works done in Christendom.' The teaching of Tauler is concisely repeated in a little book first entitled Der Franckforter, to which Luther afterwards gave the title Eyn deittsch Theologia, when he edited a part of it in 1516. The doctrine of this short treatise written, most probably, in the fourteenth century reminds us of the speculations of Eckhart. The ' fall of man,' or the origin of evil, is here viewed not historically, but as a present and continuous act of man's will, in the assertion of itself as distinct from and in opposition to the will of the Infinite. Man's will is the centre and the source of a world of disunion. Before his ' fall,' or his separation from the Infinite, his will acted as a magnet on all creatures, and held them in union and subordination ; but by the perversion of his will all creatures are perverted. It is vain to attempt, in the first place, any outward reformation. Man must resign his will ; must claim no life in or for himself ; must not imagine that he can possess anything good, as power, knowledge, or happiness. All such thoughts as are expressed in the words ' I ' and ' mine ' must be renounced. Such resignation is the birth of the second Adam. In him the whole creation is to be restored to its primeval divine order. This birth of the second Adam must take place in every man who would be a Christian. He must become weary of himself and of all created and finite things, and, relin- quishing all his desires, must resign his whole soul and will. Though good works wrought in the life of the renewed soul are holy, yet more holy is the inner, silent self-sacrifice that can never be fully expressed in good words or good works; for by that inner sacrifice the soul is translated into the one true life beyond all death the eternal life in which sin, and self, and sorrow, and all things that belong to the creature apart from God, are for ever lost. Such was the teaching of TAULEK and of many of his brethren in the fourteenth century. The above summary may serve as a substitute for notices of other mystic works by such writers as HEINRICH VON NORDLINGEN, the iriend of Tauler, HEINRICH DER SEUSE (1300-66), and RULMAN MERSWIN (1307-82), another of Tauler's friends, and the author of a work entitled Das Such von den neun Felsen (' The Book of the Nine Rocks '). The influence of the Mystics was very extensive, and lived long 94 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. after the Reformation. It has been said that to read one of Tauler's sermons is to read them all. This is not exact ; but the general accordance of the mystic writers, from the fourteenth to the seventeenth century, in all the essential parts of their doctrine, is very remarkable. Of their relations with the external Church we have hardly satisfactory information. They were persecuted, but not to such an extent as might have been expected ; for the full purport of their teaching was not understood by their opponents. It was rather remote from, than directly opposed to, the tenets of the Church, and could hardly be made a basis for ecclesiastical re- formation. A vast external institution, intended to include nations under its sway, might tolerate and include pious brotherhoods like the Mystics, but could not, if it would, enforce their doctrine or their practice. With regard to the application of their teach- ing to practical life, some ambiguity may be complained of. The Mystics evade rather than solve the problem of uniting such a religious life as their own with a fulfilment of the duties of society. The battle of life, for religious men, is less severe in the monastic cell than in the shop, the market, the school, and the factory. If the Mystics did not intend to say that retirement from the world is the only way to heaven, they wrote words that seem to mean that. If they wished to teach men how to act rightly as neigh- bours, fathers, and husbands, and when engaged in trade and industry, they should have been more explicit and condescending in the application of their doctrine. We do not say that their doctrine was unpractical, for what can have a more profound effect on life than the subjugation of the passions and the resignation of the will ? But, with reference to the guidance it affords for men who have to live and act in this world, the teaching of the Mystics may be described as abstract. It is hardly necessary to say, in concluding this review of mediaeval German literature, that this is no attempt at a descrip- tion of the general culture of the times. That must include an account of the revival of classic literature to say nothing of many Latin folios filled with the subtile disquisitions of the schoolmen. The German literature of the later middle ages was obscure and despised as it partly deserved to be ; yet it served to indicate some characteristics of coming events. There might be seen, among the secular aristocracy of that age, as in the Church and VII.] TAULEE. 95 in the great schools of learning, powers that rose and enthroned themselves without attempting to lift up the people. Men were not only classified, but separated, as churchmen and laymen, nobles and peasantry, scholars and illiterate. The press was multiplying copies of Roman classics for the enjoyment of scholars luxuriating in their new-found intellectual wealth, while the vernacular tongue was condemned to be used only for the most vulgar pur- poses. The sentence was, on the whole, strictly carried into execution. The people made a low comic literature for them- selves. They could satirise existing institutions, but had no clear notions of any union of order with freedom. When freedom began to be talked of among other classes, the peasantry at- tempted to revolutionise society, in order to fulfil absurd predic- tions, falsely supposed to be contained in the Bible. 96 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. CHAPTER VIII. FOURTH PERIOD. 1525-1625. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE TIME TJLRIOH VON HUTTEN LUTHEB, DISCONTENT was the chief characteristic of the later middle ages. We speak of the historical world, including the men of action, the thinkers and the writers who expressed the tendencies of their times. There existed no doubt a quiet, unheard-of world not less important than the historical a world of obscure people, happier than the men who are ever looking forwards and beyond their own immediate interests. It is of the leading men we write when we say that the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were times of dis- content. We have read how it had expressed itself with regard to social life, and the institutions of both the State and the Church. The didactic and satirical literature already noticed is made' wearisome by iterated complaints of the dualism existing be- tween rich and poor, between master and servant, the learned and the unlearned, the priest and the layman, the emperor and the pope. But, comparatively speaking, discontent had been only muttered in the fifteenth century ; in the sixteenth it was out- spoken. The literature of this time is, consequently, crude in form and violent in temper, but deeply interesting in its purport in other words, in its connection with realities. It would be unjust to pass hastily over such a literature, on account of its want of a superficial polish. We might as well leave a blank in the history of English literature from Chaucer to Spenser, or briefly pass by the authors of the seventeenth century, in order to concentrate attention on Pope and Addison. We are still living in the midst of the movement that began in the sixteenth century, and how it is to terminate is the most im- portant question on which the minds of men are divided. Mar- vellous progress has recently been made in the physical sciences VIII.] CHAKACTEEISTICS OF THE TIME. 97 and in applied mechanics, but in polemic literature written since the sixteenth century we find little that is both new and impor- tant. And this is neither to be wondered at nor deplored ; for the age of the Reformation left controversies in which we are still engaged, and problems still waiting for a solution. In that age all the abstract axioms of the French Revolution were pub- lished. The years of the Parisian anarchy C1789-99) hardly gave birth to one original notion. Proudhon's startling axiom was preached in Germany in the thirteenth century, and was accepted as a new Gospel by many in the sixteenth, when men of some learning could quote Greek, and refer to the fathers and the school- men, to support the doctrine that property should be abolished. Luther's own notions on the subject were unsound, as modern political economists would say; but he hated the extreme opinions maintained by some educated men in his time and afterwards. Others beside the peasantry were dreaming of a new order of society introduced ab extra, with abstract theory for a ground- plan, and violence instead of workmanship for carrying it into execution. One learned man made a dreary sketch of a ' Model City,' where all the inhabitants were to be made happy by good sanitary regulations, improved cookery, and the abolition of reli- gion. Another dreamer, in his ' Solar State,' arranged a system of society regulated like a complex clock-work, with the abolition of both freedom and property as a moving power. Making such Utopias on paper was one of the amusements of learned men in those days. It is a mistake to regard the controversy of the sixteenth century as exclusively theological or ecclesiastical, and it is a greater mistake to ascribe the whole movement to the zeal of a discon- tented monk. Luther neither inspired the dreams of Miinzer and the Anabaptists, nor excited the peasants and others who en- deavoured to fulfil such dreams. He might as well be accused of calling Savonarola into existence. There have been historians who could ingeniously explain great events by mean anecdotes of personal interests, but it is more intelligible to ascribe great results to great thoughts thoughts that have an irresistible power of first making themselves common and then demanding to be carried into execution. The prevalence of such thoughts in the sixteenth century made it a grand epoch. The main controversy was part of a process, still going on in the world, and having for its 98 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUEE. [Cn. object to lead men through all their errors to a knowledge of themselves and of the Divine Government to which they must submit. This was the goal kept in. view by good and honest inquirers in the sixteenth century, but they differed widely re- specting the ways that led to it; in other words, on the respective claims of the Church, the Scriptures, and free inquiry. The controversy that followed is only partially represented in the German literature of the time. It is hardly necessary, therefore, to say that, in our notices of writers who lived during the time of the Reformation, we do not pretend to give, even in outline, a history of that movement. The controversy of the age gave only temporary life and vigour to German literature, which then, for a short time, might be called national. No longer confined to convents or to courts, it had its centres in several newty-fouuded universities, and was spread abroad by means of the printing press. The Bible, trans- lated by Luther, was the people's book, and hymias, founded on popular models, contained the best poetry written at that period. The rapid decline of this new literature is easily explained by a reference to political and ecclesiastical history. Expectations of political freedom, cherished at the opening of the century, were soon disappointed ; dreams of pious men who had endeavoured to spread the teaching of a religion independent of external forms, were not fulfilled; Luther, in his earlier years, read Tauler's sermons, and edited the ' German Theology ; ' but outbreaks of fanaticism soon induced him to defend his own work of reforma- tion by entrenching himself within a strict system of theological institutes. The disappointment of men who wanted more freedom in theology was expressed by SEBASTIAN FRANCE: (1500-45), one of the best prose writers of this time. Luther denounced him and his friends as wild 'visionaries, ' always prating of Geist, Geist, Geist; ' in other words, setting up their own convictions as distinct from Luther's exposition of the Bible. These and more serious dissensions impaired the strength of the Reformation movement, while its influence on the general culture of the people was greatly diminished by the use of two languages Latin for the learned, and a half-barbarous German for the com- mon people. Learned men wrote in Latin on philology and theology, and the people were left with few intellectual leaders. The enthusiastic patriot IIuiTfeN saw the error of this division of VIII.] ULKICH VON HUTTEN. 99 languages, and endeavoured to write in his native tongue, so as to be read by the people ; but he succeeded only to a limited extent, and when more than thirty years old could write far better in Latin than in German. The verse written during the sixteenth century excepting Lutheran hymns is, with regard to both style and purport, inferior to the literature of prose, which would moreover demand precedence here, if only on nccount of one fact ; the greatest literary work of the century the work that established NEW HIGH GERMAN as the language of the German people is Luther's translation of the Bible. MARTIN LUTHER, the son of a poor miner, was born at Eisleben on the tenth of November, 1483; he received his early education at several schools, in Mansfeld, Magdeburg, and Eisenach, and went to the University of Erfurt in 1501. After some studies in theology and scholastic philosophy, he, in opposition to the advice of friends, took vows as un Augustine monk, and devoted himself to religious exercises and the study of the Bible. A visit to Rome (1510) served to increase his dissatisfaction with some practices au- thorised by the Church, especially the sale of indulgences. The controversy excited by his publication of ninety-five theses against indulgences was revived by his disputation with Dr. Eck, which was followed by the excommunication of the reformer in 1520. lie thereupon published ' An Address to the Nobility,' and prayed for their assistance in the reformation of the Church and the universities. Meanwhile ULKICH VON HTTTTEN, a man of noble ancestry (born in 1488), had already exhorted the aristocracy to win by the sword their national independence. He, at first, thought lightly of the controversy raised by Luther, as if it had been a quarrel of monks on a theological question ; but soon understood that national and religious freedom must rise or fall together. Ulrich, who had written in Latin several of the ' Epistles of obscure Men,' against the ecclesiastical authority of Rome, now studied German, in order that he might co-operate more powerfully with Luther. But the two reformers differed in their choice of weapons. Ulrich would use the sword ; Luther, as he said, would trust in ' the Word;' or in arguments based, as he believed, on the Scriptures. Ulrich, denounced as a heretic and a traitor, was driven from one town to another; till he found a refuge for a time in the castle of Franz von Seckingen. Thence he escaped into Switzerland, and H2 100 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. died in a retreat on the island of Ufenau in the Lake of Zurich, in 1523. His satires, in the form of dialogues, and his ' Complaint, addressed to the German People/ are remarkable expressions of the polemic temper of the time. The purpose to which he devoted his life was to liberate his native land from the religious and political dominion of Rome, and from the powers usurped by the princes of the several States. Alea jacta esto, was Ulrick's motto when he declared war, not only against Rome, but also against the princes, while he despised the nobles among whom he was compelled to seek for allies. ' I know T shall be driven out of the land,' .he says, ' but I cannot turn black into white. No Turk, no heathen would rule so oppressively as our princes. To overthrow them, the towns must unite with the nobility.' Hutten's whole life was a bitter warfare, and his constitution was, in his youth, undermined by the disease that brought him to aii early grave. When persecuted by foes, and forsaken by his friends, he ' addressed to the whole body of the German people ' a ' Complaint,' of which the following short passage may give the purport : Countrymen ! let all unite to protect even one, if that one has done good service for all. I might have enjoyed the favour of Rome at this time, if I had not desired above all other things the welfare of my country. For this I have laboured and suffered. For this I have endured so many misfortunes ; long journeys by day and night, so much want and care, and such shameful poverty ; and all this in the prime of my life in the best, blooming years of youth ! Surely for all my good intentions I have some claim on your assist- ance. . . . If I cannot move you by my own case, be moved with pity for my friends and relatives. My poor and aged father and mother, my younger brother, who is in great trouble about me, all my relatives, and many who love and respect me, besides several learned men, and some noblemen ; all thesejoin in my petition. If I have added something to the honour of our Fatherland by my writings if I have endeavoured to serve my country help me now ! ' Huften's writings including those in Latin are numerous, and are mostly directed against the Romish clergy. He gives a summary of all that had been said by the satirists of the preceding century. To whom the blame must be chiefly ascribed, is a question to be decided by political and ecclesiastical historians, but the fact niust be admitted, that a great part of the literature of the time immediately preceding. the Reformation is full of envy, malice, and all uncharitableness. Warfare seemed to be the only atmosphere in which men could breathe, and the spirit that ani- mated many declamations against the evils of society was as bad as the evils themselves. In a word, discontent and bad temper VIII.] LUTHER. 101 were almost universal, if literature is to be trusted. The spirit of Thomas Murner seemed to have diffused itself over the land. The troubles that followed Luther's protest had been prepared before his time. The discontent of the people under the rule of their princes, and the strife of the princes against each other,- and against their foreign emperor the Spaniard were both ready to break forth into open violence and anarchy, and Luther's words were made to serve as a signal. Trusting, as he said, 'in the word,' without the sword, Luther burned the papal bull issued against him, made his memorable protest at Worms, and then found a place of shelter in the Wart- burg, an old castle near Eisenach. Here he proceeded with his translation of the Bible. He had ended his labours on the New Testament (1522) when his progress was disturbed by the excesses of one of his own friends, Andreas Rudolf Bodenstein commonly named KARLSTADT. He was professor of theology at Wittenberg, but also an iconoclast and a radical reformer, who wished to go far beyond any reforms advocated by Luther. ' Go back to your native places,' said Karlstadt to his pupils, at the university, ' and there learn some useful trades and make yourselves good citizens. Stay not here to study, while other men are working to support you. The apostle Paul worked with his own hands. Go and do likewise.' The professor carried into practice his own teaching ; put on a white felt hat and a smock- frock, and went to work in the fields. But it was by his doc- trine that all sacred images in churches should be destroyed that Karlstadt especially offended Luthr. Their quarrel led to the banishment of the iconoclast. Luther knew that his own work of reformation would be cen- sured for any results that might follow when- the Peasants' War of 1525 broke out. The doctrines preached at an earlier period by Friar Berthold that the poor shall inherit the earth and that the rich must surrender their wealth had been long remembered ; and it was supposed by many that the time had come for reducing them to practice. Luther at first advised the nobility to meet the peasantry with liberal reforms. ' You must moderate your despotism,' said he, ' and submit to God's own ordinances, or you will be compelled to do so.' But when the peasants grew violent, broke into convents, made themselves drunk in the cellars, and set fire to castles on the banks of the Rhine, Luther came forth 102 OUTLINES OF GERMAfr LITERATURE. [Cii. against them, and it is not too much to say that his denunciation was fatal to the whole democratic movement of the time. If, guided by a more selfish policy, he had placed himself at the head of the peasantry, he might have easily triumphed over all his own "enemies. But he knew well the truth confessed at last by Miinzer that 'the sensual and the dark rebel in vain; ' that men must be free within before they can make a right use of external liberty. If Miinzer's exploits had not worn out the patience of Luther, the anabaptists must have done it. Dreams of Utopia prevailed in those times, and a baker at Leyden had a dream. He declared that he was 'Enoch,' and sent out twelve apostles to find the new Jerusalem. At Munster they enlisted a fanatical tailor, and then gained the patronage of the mayor. Envy and rapacity, disguised by a few abused texts picked from the Bible, began the work of reformation by ' driving out the sons of Esau,' and distributing their goods among 'the chil- dren of Jacob,' in other words, the anabaptists. The destruction of works of art, musical instruments, and libraries was soon fol- lowed by the institution of polygamy. The tailor crowned as King of Israel acted as the public executioner of one of his own wives, while the people, assembled in the market-place, lifted up their voices in the psalm, 'To God on high give thanks and praise.' The worst remains to be told ; for the sincerity of the anarchical men of Munster was very doubtful. The mayor, Knipperdolling, conducted himself more like a buffoon than an enthusiast. If the anabaptists of Munster had studied how to make the most disgraceful caricatures of freedom and religion, they could not have done their work more effectually. The extreme notions of Karlstadt and his followers, the violence of Thomas Miinzer and other leaders of the peasantry, andj lastly, the madness of the anabaptists, had all tended to make Luther more conservative and dogmatic if this word may be used, with- out offence, in its true meaning. He fortified his own position by the strictly-defined tenets of his two catechisms (1529), and denounced as departing too widely from the letter of the Bible the doctrines asserted by the Swiss reformers. Ulrich Zwingli, their leader, endeavoured to maintain the democratic character of the Reformation, and departed more widely than Luther from the teaching of the Church. The two reformers met in 1529, but failed to adjust their doctrinal differences. VIII.] LUTHER. 103 In the following year the Diet of Augsburg was assembled, but Luther being under imperial censure could not attend. If we may judge from a letter he wrote about this time, he was not seriously depressed by the interdict : Here we are sitting [he writes], and looking out of the window on a little grove, where a number of crows and daws are assembled as in a Diet ; but with such a flying hither and thitber, and croaking all day and all night young and old all chattering at once we wonder how their throats can bear it. The letter does not conclude without some polemical bitterness ; he calls the crows ' sophists and papists,' and prays ironically for their salvation. There is more sweetness in a note written by him about the same time to his son John, only four years old : I know a pleasant little garden, where many children dressed in golden frocks go in under the trees and gather rosy apples and pears, cherries and plums, both purple and yellow, and sing and dance and make merry, and have fine little horses, with golden reins and silver saddles. When I asked the gardener who these little children were, he told me : ' They are children who say their prayers, learn their lessons, and do as thej r are told.' ' Well,' said I to the man, * and I have a little boy, Johnny Luther, at home, who would like to come here, to gather pears and apples, ride on these fine little horses, and play with these children.' ' Very well,' said the man, ' if he is obedient and says his prayers, and learns well, he shall come, and he may bring Lippus and Jost with him, and they shall all have fifes and drums, and other kinds of music, and also little cross-bows to shoot with.' Luther published, in the same year (1530), a translation of ' ^Esop's Fables.' A passage from the preface may be noticed as one of many proofs of the reformer's care for the education of young people : I have undertaken [he says] the revision of this book, and have dressed it in a better style than it had before. In doing this, I have especially cared for young people, that they may have instruction in a form suitable to their age, which is naturally fond of plays and fictions ; and I have wished to gratify their taste without yielding indulgence to anything bad. I mention this, because we have seen what an objectionable book some writers have made and sent into the world, as ' the German ^Esop ' the original fables mixed with scandalous tales, for which the authors ought to be punished ; tales to be recited, not in families, but, if anywhere, iu the lowest taverns. ./Esop endeavoured to introduce wisdom under an ap- pearance of folly; but his perverters would sacrifice his wisdom to their own folly. In 1534 the translation of the Bible into German was completed. In this great work Luther's aim was to write so as to be under- stood by all the people, high and low, learned and comparatively 104 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. illiter; te. He spared no pains ; but revised bis work again and again for tbe last time in 1545. Its success was marvellous, but not greater than it deserved. It was soon accepted as tbe people's book, and in 1558, thirty-eight editions of the whole Bible and seventy-two of the New Testament had appeared. The effect was as important in general literature as in theology. Luther's Bible established the New High German language, which has become the medium of a literature now spreading its influence throughout the world. The carefulness of the transla- tion is often disguised under an appearance of facility. ' When at work upon the Book of Job/ says Luther, 'we sometimes hardly contrived to do three lines in four days.' If, in this difficult sec- tion of his work Luther here and there failed, he seldom made so adventurous a translation as may be found in the English Book of Job (xxxvi. 33). Another merit is, that as a churchman of the sixteenth century, who had been accustomed to read medieval jargon called Latin, he was, to a remarkable degree, free fiom the common error of translating words instead of their mean- ing. He did not always succeed ; but he tried hard to put the Greek of the Gospels into such words as any German peasant might understand. The parable of the Prodigal Son may be mentioned as one of numerous narrative passages faithfully and popularly rendered, and Psalm civ. may be noticed as one of many examples of a bold and clear transition of poetry. We trans- late two or three paragraphs from the preface to the Book of Psalms, where Luther can be met on groiind far away from all controversy : The heart of man is like a ship out on a wild sea, and driven by storm- winds, blowing from all the four quarters of the world ; now impelled by fear and care for coming evil ; now disturbed by vexation and grief for present misfortune ; now urged along by hope and a confidence of future good ; now wafted by joy and contentment. These storm-winds of the soul teach us how to speak in good earnest, to open our hearts, and to utter their contents. The man actually in want and fear does not express himself quietly, like a man at ease who only talks about fear and want ; a heart filled with joy utters itself and sings in a way not to be imitated by one who is all the time in fear ; ' it does not come from the heart,' men say, when a sorrowful man tries to laugh, or a merry man would weep. . . . Now of what does this Book of Psalms mostly consist, but of earnest expressions of the heart's emotions the storm-winds as I have called them ? Where are finer expressions of joy than the Psalms of pniiso and thanksgiving? There you look into the hearts of the saints, as if you looked into a fair and delightful garden, aye, or into heaven itself and VIII.] LUTHER. 105 you see how lovely and pleasant flowers are springing up there out of manifold happy and beautiful thoughts of God and all his mercies. . . . But again, whore will you find deeper, more mournful and pitiful words of sorrow than in the Psalms devoted to lamentation? I conclude, then, that the Psalter is a hand-book for religious men, wherein everyone, what- ever may be his condition, may find words that will rhyme with it, and psalms as exactly fitted to express his wants, as if they had been written tolely for his benefit. la 1536 Luther prepared the articles of faith afterwards ac- cepted, first by an assembly of divines at Schmalkald, and then by the Lutheran Church. Pie did not live to witness the mis- fortunes of the Schmalkald Alliance, when they took up arms to maintain their principles. His health had long been failing, and in 1545, when he refused to be judged by the Council of Trent, he was but a wreck of himself. Thirty years of very hard work for heart and brain had made him long for rest. Writing to a friend about this time he says : As an old man. worn out and weary, cold and decayed, and with but rne eye left, I had hoped that I might have, at last, a little rest ; but here I am still harassed with calls to write and talk, and regulate affairs, as if I had never written, spoken, or transacted any business. I am now tired of the world, and the world is wean- of me. I would leave it as a man loaves an inn when he has paid his reckoning. So let me have an hour's grace before I die ; for 1 want to hear no more of this world's affairs. To oblige his friend, he, however, took a journey to Eisleben, in winter, when the surrounding district was flooded. One of the last traits to fade from his character was humour, as may be peen in a note written at this time to his wife : ' We arrived here, at Halle,' he says, ' about eight o'clock, but have not ventured to go on to Eisleben, for we have been stopped by a great anabap- tist the flood which has covered the roads and threatens us with immersion, and no mere sprinkling.' He is near the grave now, but his humour is still .polemical, though not bitter. He died at Eisleben on February 18, 1546. ' I was born,' he says, ' to fight with gangs of men and demons, and that has made many of my books so impetuous and warlike. . . . My shell may be rather hard; but the kernel is soft and sweet.' His numerous writings beside those already named include controversial tracts and sermons, which belong to Church History rather than to General Literature, and cannot be fairly noticed here. Nothing could exceed the violence of Luther's tone of declamation j but it was characteristic of his times. A disposition to seek and find 106 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. in the Scriptures, not objective truth, but a confirmation of pre- conceived opinions, was common to the theologians of the six- teenth century. They seldom dreamed that the true meaning of the Scriptures, to which they so often referred, might lie fur beyond the range of controversial exegesis. It cannot be affirmed that Luther, in his expositions of the Bible, always avoided the common error of his time. For examples of his command of a truly popular style his series of seven vigorous 'Sermons against Image-breakers' may be noticed. It is obvious that the mo.st energetic passages of his polemical writings could not be fairly represented by any brief quotations, arid this remark will explain our extracts from his less important works. His numerous letters and his ' Table Talk ' the latter not always to be trusted are aids for an estimate of his character. Among the several editions of his writings, that published in twenty-four volumes at Halle (1740-51) may be named as the most complete. IX.] THEOLOGIANS. 107 CHAPTER IX. FOURTH PERIOD. 1525-1625. THEOLOGIANS : BERTHOLD ZWINGLI MATHESIUS ABN DT AG RI- COLA FRANCK BOHME HISTORIANS : TURMAIB ANSHELM TSCHUDI KESSLEB BULLINGER LEHMANN THEOBALD ART AND SCIENCE I DCRER PARACELSUS. THE Prose Literature of these times must appear poor to readers unacquainted with the fact that, during the Reformation and afterwards, Latin was the language of theologians. Their labours had no connection with national literature, but may be here men- tioned in order to make clear the statement that our notices of a few German writers on theology do not pretend to represent fairly the activity of the age in this department of study. As one example of the zeal and industry that produced libraries of folio volumes in Latin we may name the ' Magdeburg Centuries,' in thirteen volumes (1559-74). Its object was to show the agree- ment of the doctrines of the Reformers with the ancient autho- rities of the Church. The work was first planned at Magdeburg, and was divided into Centuries, each occupying one volume hence the title. Voluminous itself, the work called forth a book still more voluminous, for to refute its statements Baronius wrote his ' Ecclesiastical Annals.' The few theologians who wrote in German may be here clas- sified with regard to their respective views on authority, ortho- doxy, and free inquiry. The principle of authority, as maintained by the most consistent advocates of the Roman Catholic Church, asserts that guidance in religion can be found neither in systems of doctrine based on the Scriptures, nor in any conclusions de- rived from human reason. But, as guidance with regard to both faith and practice is required by all men including the most illiterate, and those whose powers of inquiry are most restricted : it is maintained that there must be a fixed institution having 108 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cii. absolute authority in all questions of religious belief and practice. Against these claims of the Roman Catholic Church Luther ap- pealed to the authority of doctrines clearly stated, as he believed, in the Scriptures. Other theologians differed from him, either with regard to his choice of doctrines to be accepted as essential, or with regard to his interpretation of certain passages of Scripture, while they still maintained his principle of founding all authority on the Scriptures. But a third class of writers arose, differing among themselves on many questions, but all agreeing, either in demanding more freedom than Lutheran orthodoxy allowed, or in asserting, with especial emphasis, the claims of personal and spiritual religion. These theologians of the third school, as we may call them, were known by many names, such as Mystics, Weigelians, and at a later time Pietists. They in- cluded men of various opinions, such as Weigel, Franck, Arndt, and Bohme. The names by which they were designated or reprobated must be, therefore, understood as having no definite meaning. One of these names, for example, was derived from that of VALENTIN WEIGEL, a theological writer who died in 1588; but it was applied to Johann Arndt and others who were no followers of Weigel, and also to some wild fanatics who had no connection whatever with either Weigel or Arndt. Without entering into any of the details of their controversies, we may notice the leading writers of the three schools above described, PO far as they are represented in the German literature of the period. If our notices of the defenders of Church authority seem meagre, it is because few Roman Catholic divines of these times wrote in the German language. To do justice to their arguments in defence of an absolute external authority, we should have to refer to such writers as BARONIUS, BELLARMINE, and BOSSUET ; but no authors of their stamp wrote in German during the sixteenth century. JOHANN NAS (1534-90), a Franciscan, author of ' Six Centuries of Evangelical Truths ' (1569), was, in his time, prominent as an opponent of the Reformation, but his writings have little value, lie was far less successful than the Jesuit, PETRUS DE HONDT, commonly called by his Latin name CANISITJS (1521-97), whose efforts greatly checked the spread of Lutheran doctrine in the south of Germany. His Latin works, including ' A Summary of IX.] BEKTHOLD ZWINGLI. 109 Christian Doctrine' (1554) and a 'Smaller Catechism,' passed through numerous editions. One of the best writers in German in defence of the authority of the Church was BERTHOLK, bishop of Chiemsee, who wrote in a plain style a work entitled ' German Theology,' which was printed in 1527. The object of his book was to call back wan- derers from the ancient Church, and to counteract the popular literature of the Protestants. Berthold says : ' These times have made manifest that secret hatred of the Catholic Church and its clergy which has long remained hidden in the hearts of un- righteous men.' He argues in the usual style against all inno- vations of doctrine, by pointing to the variety of opinions found in such reformers as Luther, Karlstadt, Zwingli, and (Ecolam- padius. The practical and uncontroversial parts of the book are written in an earnest and popular style. The most important of the earlier controversies of the times respecting orthodoxy took place between Luther and Zwingli, and ended without reconciliation in 1529. ULRICH ZWINGLI, born in 1484, was a man of sonsiderable learning, and wrote clearly in his own German dialect, but without any great command of language. Like Luther, he protested first against the sale of in- dulgences, but soon proceeded to denounce all additions to doc- trines contained in the Bible. At two conferences held at. Zurich in 1523, he defended so well his sixty-seven articles of belief, that they were accepted as the creed of the Reformed Church of that canton. Their substance was published by Zwingli as his ' Confession of Faith ' in 1525. His departure from Lutheran orthodoxy consisted in a denial of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. Some well-intended political measures recommended by Zwingli served to hinder the spread of his own doctrines and to excite strife between the Catholic and the Protestant cantons of Switzerland. War followed ; the men of Zurich, accompanied by their pastor, marched out to meet forces greatly superior to their own, and Zwingli fell on the battle-field at Kappel, on the llth of October, 1531. One of his best works is a ' Manual of Christian Instruction for Young People.' There were, even in these times, some religious writers who mostly avoided controversy, and wrote of their faith with regard to its practical results and as united with their own life and expe- 110 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [Cn. rience. JOHANN MATHESIXJS was a popular preacher and writer, who lived in the midst of a mining district, and adapted his ministry to the wants and the characters of the people. He wrote hymns and songs, which the miners ij WOLFHART SPANGENBERG. The first is an intolerable story of warfare be- tween frogs and mice, every new complication and episode in which business excites in the reader a longing for some decisive engagement in which both parties may be finally suppressed. Der Gansz-Konig consists of six unconnected rhapsodies about geese. The author wrote, as he tells us, several other ' poems,' in which the heroes were cats and mice, stockfish and frogs ! Fortunately, these works of imagination have never seen the light. After the death of Luther, and during the latter half of the sixteenth century, polemical earnestness seemed to be declining, when the zeal and activity of the recently-founded order of Jesuits in opposing reformed doctrines awakened another satirist, JOHAKN FISCHART, who wrote both verse and prose, lie was born at Strassburg in 1550, studied law at Basel, and, after travelling in England and several parts of the Continent, resided at Speier and at Forbach. He died in 1589. There is a want of clear informa- tion respecting some parts of his biography and the authorship of several of the works ascribed to him. He was a man of versatile talents, had considerable learning and a remarkable command of language, and was more than a satirist j for some of his writings X.] FISCHART. 129 show his patriotism and his zeal for the education of the people. His satirical story of the saints Dominic and Francis was written in reply to a Franciscan monk, JOHANX NAS, already named as a polemical writer, who had asserted that ' the Enemy,' in assaulting Luther so frequently, was only claiming his own lawful property ! Fischart reminds his opponent that St. Dominic was harassed in the same way. It would be requisite to refer to Latin as well as German literature, to show the character of the satires to which Fischart intended to supply antidotes. The license, personality and coarseness of many of the invectives published in these times can hardly be imagined. Not only the moral character of Luther, but also that of his wife, was made the object of virulent abuse. Acrostics were malicious in these days. In one of these vehicles of satire, the initial letters of the lines, when read perpendicularly, give Luther's name, in its Latin form ; each line contains five words, all beginning with the same letter, and the whole forms an epigram made up of the most abusive terms that can be found in Latin. To such satires Fischart replied in vigorous German, and with a resolution not to be excelled either in rude invectives or in verbal oddities. When he cannot find a word to express aptly his satirical humour, he makes one. The satire above named was followed by another of a more intemperate tone commonly styled ' The Jesuit's Little Hat,' though that was not the original title and first printed in 1580. Its plot could hardly be decorously given even in outlines, as one incident may suffice to indicate : in order to make 'the four-cornered hat ' as full as possible of mischief, not only the special services of Lucifer and all his subor- dinates, but also those of ' his grandmother,' are called into vigorous exercise. ' The Bee-Hive,' another satire on the Romish clergy, is only in part an original work. Fischart's prose is, on the whole, better than his verse. His ' History of the Heroes Gorgellantua and Pantagruel ' is, as the title indicates, an imita- tion and partly a free translation of Rabelais. In this and other books Fischart delights in strange, uncouth combinations of words, which resemble the verbal exploits of Aristophanes. Thus we read of ' the innumerable-as-stars-in-the-heavens-or-as-sands-on- the-sea-shore impositions of the astrologers and prognosticators.' In this instance his satire was well directed ; for the impostors, who called themselves ' astrologers,' were some of the most pros- perous literary men of these times, and established a flourishing 130 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. trade, requiring scarcely any capital beyond the ignorance of the people. The ' Prophetic Almanac ' was the selling-book at fairs and markets, and was read with excitement exceeding that produced by modern ' novels of the season.' The poorest farmer gladly laid down his groat to carry home the book which marked all the ' lucky days' for sowing wheat, making bargains, ' hair-cutting ' and 'blood-letting.' The events of the times, as well as the ignorance of the people, were favourable to this trade in imposition. A thousand failures did not hurt the success of the tradesmen ; preachers and divines, from the time of Luther to the eighteenth century, preached and wrote against 'the magicians' in vain. One of the absurd old almanacs ascribes all the events of the Reformation to the fact, that ' Luther was born under the planet Jupiter in Capricorn.' Fischart j ustly says, ' It is presumptuous to involve Heaven itself in our disputes.' We cannot literally trans- late the strange title of the book in which he caricatures the productions of l the impostors ; ' but it is something like the fol- lowing : ' The Grandmother of all Almanacs, or the Pantagruel- istic, thick-with-impositions, Phlebotomist's Adviser, Farmer's Code of Rules and Weather Book, suited for all times and every country ; by the accomplished rat-catcher Winhold Alcofribas Wiistblutus.' In this caricature he endeavoured to recommend a safe style of prophesying, of which the following passage is a specimen : In this year we may expect the planets to be moveable ; but they will move only in the courses appointed by their Creator. From certain aspects, we may conclude that the colic and other signs of a disordered stomach will be prevalent in the summer among people who eat large quantities of unripe fruit, especially plums, and drink plenty of sour butter-milk. Corn will be too dear for poor men, and too cheap for great landowners. Vines will not flourish in the Black Forest, nor in the Bohemian Forest ; but the best vine- yards on the Rhine will produce wine strong enough to throw many people down from chairs and stools. Beer also will be good this year, if the brewers will not use too much water. In short, we may expect an abundant supply of wine and corn, if the wishes of poor people are fulfilled. Dairymen may take notice that black cows will give white milk. With regard to the affairs of various nations, we may venture to say that the Bavarians and the Swabians will prosper, if nothing occur to prevent it. We have to notice dark ' aspects ' for the people of Morocco and other hot countries ; but the people of Sweden will be tolerably fair. Also we may promise that there will be corn in Poland, many cows in Switzerland, fine oxen in Hungary, good butter and cheese in Holland and Flanders, salt fish in Norway, fresh salmon in Scotland, and a plentiful supply of ignorance and folly in all countries. X.] THE DRAMA. A polemical tendency is found even in some parts of the dra- matic productions of these times ; especially in the plays written by XiKL.vrs MANUEL (1484-1530), a man of remarkably versatile talents. He was active as a statesmen at Berne, and was also a soldier, a writer of verse, a painter, a sculptor, and a wood- engraver. His Shrove Tuesday Plays, consisting mostly of satires on the Romish clergy, arejbitter, humorous, and irreverent in the extreme. The greatest improvement made in the so-called religious plays of this time is found in their selection of subjects from the Old Testament. By this change, they at once gained variety and avoided such extreme irreverence as had been common. But these so-called dramas founded on Bible histories were still low enough in their general characteristics. Among their writers, PAUL REBHUHN, who was rector of Zwickau in 1535, may be named as having introduced some improvements in form ; but his dramas ' The Marriage at Cana ' and ' Susanna ' have no poetical merits. A play .entitled ' The Beginning and the End of the World,' written (about 1580) by BARTHOLOMEWS KRUGER, has been* commended for its tragic interest. The author possessed some versatility, for he published in 1587 a Neiv Eulenspiegel, or collection of jests. The Shrove Tuesday Plays were greatly extended with regard to their range of topics, and some of the best were written by Hans Sachs. The singing school at Niirnberg had erected there an amphitheatre without a roof, for the performance of such secular plays as had formerly been confined chiefly to private dwellings. But the most noticeable innovations in dramatic performances were introduced by a company of strolling players who called themselves ' The English Comedians,' though we have no evidence that any of them came from England. They had, however, all the self-sufficiency and audacity of the lowest class of English players of their time. It seems probable that they extemporised freely on the stage, and assumed an unbounded license, committing every fault condemned in Hamlet's warning. Nothing can be more atrocious than the plot of one of their pieces called ' Titus Andronicus.' The extreme faults of these strolling players, who sacrificed everything to excite a sensation, made them very popular. JAKOB AYRER, who died in 1605, was one of their more successful imitators. The pieces of this German K2 132 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. contemporary of Shakespeare including ' Dives and Lazarus,' ' The Prodigal Son,' and ' Jan Posset,' have no literary value, but show more tact in theatrical effect than is found in Hans Sachs. HEIXRTCH JULIUS, Duke of Brunswick (1564-1613), may be named as another imitator of the deplorable imitators styling themselves ' English Comedians.' He jkept in his service a com- pany of players, and wrote several comedies in which he succeeded well, in one respect in laying aside all aristocratic pretensions. In literature ad captandum vulgus seems to have been the duke's motto. His plays are in prose, and he often introduces a Low German dialect. His best characters are his fools ; but they are too much alike. He is very fond of introducing demons, even when there is no demand for their services. The humour of one of his comedies consists in a series of monstrous falsehoods, of which some were copied in the well-known stories of Baron Miinchausen. As a specimen of the duke's tragic power, we may name his play of ' The Disobedient SOD,' in which eighteen cha- racters are introduced. Of these nine are murdered, four commit suicide, one is carried away by Satan, while only four survivors, three of whom are demons, escape from the tragic fury of HEIX- EICH JULIUS. It might be imagined, after reading some of the plays written by the Duke of Brunswick, that the theatre could hardly fall to a lower level than it had reached in his times ; but his plays would be respectable if contrasted with some of the tragedies afterwards written by Lohenstein. Among several of the ' People's Books ' written, translated, or edited during this period, the first place belongs to the notorious story of 'Dr. Faustus,' written in prose by an unknown author, and first printed by Johann Spies of Frankfort, in 1587. This successful book was followed and superseded by a tiresomely ex- tended version of the story of Faust, written by GEOKG RUDOLF WIDMANN, and published at Hamburg, in 1599. The prose story of ' Faust,' as printed in 1587, is very stupid. Perhaps, the best part of it is the copy of Faust's ' bond ' with the enemy. It is firm and clear, and could 'hardly be frus- trated by a modern attorney: 'Having undertaken to explore the elements,' Faust writes, 'and finding that the talents bestowed on me from above are not sufficient for the task, I have engaged in a covenant with the commissioned genius now present, and X.] FAUST. 1 33 named Mephistopheles, that lie shall serve me for the space of twenty-four years.' Then follows the promise to pay for such service by a full surrender of the magician's soul and body for ever. This promise was fulfilled, we are told, at the village of Rimlich, near Wittenberg, exactly twenty-four years after Faust had signed the bond, and between twelve and one in the morning. Other versions of this tragic story are too numerous to be even named here. FATJST was made the hero of a tale including a mythology that had been long believed by the German people. It is more than probable that a man named Faust either a professor of magic, or popularly suspected as a magician really lived in Wiirtemberg, about the beginning of the sixteenth century. At that time and before, remarkable pretensions in science or learning, when existing apart from the profession of theology, had often ex- cited suspicions of magic. The intellectual and religious move- ment of the times had given rise to no general scepticism re- specting the reality of magic, but had rather served to confirm popular faith in old stories of demonology. That faith had been for a long time regulated by the authority of the Church, but had now liberated itself from such control. Several of the most enter- prising intellects of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries still adhered to a belief in necromancy and magic, and some learned men professed themselves to be adepts in these supposed sciences. AGRIPPA VON XETTESHEIM and VAX HELMOXT were believers. PARACELSUS, in his writings on the theory of magic, did not deny its reality, but gave a new explanation of its processes. While deny- ing the virtues of external charms, rites, and formulae, he ascribes all the powers of magic to the will and the imagination ; imagina- tion, he tells us, when it is attended with the exercise of a powerful will, on the part of a magician, can subjugate the minds of other men. CAMPAXELLA held a similar doctrine. Such teaching as this not confined to the studies of the learned served to confirm traditions of a popular demonology, including relics of old German mythology. All that had been believed about alps, giants, dwarfs, kobolds, ' Grindel and his mother,' and other inhabitants of the mythic world, was transferred to one personage the spiritual foe of man- kind. No man could hold the popular faith, as reduced to this simple form, more firmly than Luther, and its power is shown, still more clearly, by the fact that, after Luther's time, the greatest of the mystics, BOHJIE, whose life was spent in an endeavour to solve the 134 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. question of the origin of evil, and to deduce all effects from one benevolent source, felt himself compelled to write of ( Lucifer ' in language hardly to be distinguished from that of Manichseism. This popular faith fully explains the success of the legend of Fatist. In its first form, as already intimated, it had no literary merits, and its purport that men must not for.-ake the simplicity of faith and submission to God's will, either to gratify intellectual ambition or earthly passions was but feebly set forth. But the story passed rapidly from one edition to another ; it was dramatised by our English playwright Kit Marlowe at the close of the six- teenth century ; in the seventeenth it was turned into a puppet- show to please the German people, and, in this form, it long re- tained its popularity. As recently as about the beginning of the present century, we read that the proprietor of a puppet-show, vexed by some conscientious scruples, resolved ' that Faust should never be played again by his company.' The subject of the libretto was too serious, he thought, to be placed upon the stage ; though the tragic effects must have been considerably mitigated, when Dr. Faustus, Mephistopheles, and several subordinate demons were represented by wooden dolls. There is little that is edifying in the stories written by "\ViED- MANK and WICKRAM ; but they have several characteristic traits, and tell something of the popular taste of the times. "\Viedmann, in his story of 'Peter Leu,' presents to us an extreme caricature of a parish priest ; a burlesque even grosser than that we have seen in the ' Parson of Kalenberg.' Peter is poor, and, at one time, is especially in want of linen for his household. It happens, about the same time, that a dense fog settles down on his parish, and is attended as some people fancy with a strange, sulphurous scent. ' This has been caused,' says the clergyman, ' by some leakage from a subterranean Inferno ; ' but if the people will bring a suffi- cient quantity of their best linen, sheets, and table-cloths, he will endeavour to stop the rift near the church, from which the vapour and the bad odour escape. They obey ; the fog clears away ; and the parsonage is decently supplied with good linen. LAZARUS SANDRTJB deserves notice for one merit rare among the versifiers of his times conciseness. He has no didactic purpose, and when he has said a thing once, he makes an end of it. One of his short stories opens with some pathos. A young man is to be hanged ; but, when he appears on the scaffold, a maiden though a stranger X.] THE 'PEOPLE'S BOOKS.' 135 to him is so distressed by his fate, that she earnestly prays his life may be spared. The authorities relent and spare his life, on the sole condition that he will marry the maiden. The culprit comes down from the scaffold, critically examines the girl's physiognomy, and then expresses a wish that justice should take its course, as before appointed. ' Better to end all trouble thus at once,' says the resigned man, ' than to begin a new life of trouble.' It is hardly necessary to add that his execution followed, and excited no further sympathy. As one more specimen from a class of books very popular in these times, we may notice GEORG WICKRAM'S ' Traveller's Little Book to Drive away Melancholy ' (1555). It is written in a prose style considerably better than that commonly found in jest-books. Here is one sample : A monk who had the cure of souls in the parish of Poppenried was re- nowned for his power of vociferation. One Sunday afternoon, while he was shouting at the top of his voice, a poor widow in the congregation began to wring her hands and cry bitterly. The monk noticed this effect of his elo- quence and, after the service, asked the widow what passage in the sermon had so deeply affected her. ' Ah ! ' said she, ' when my husband died, all that he left, to aid me in earning a livelihood, was an ass, and he died soon after I lost my husband. I have tried to overcome my sorrow, but oh, sir, when I heard your preaching this afternoon, it revived all my trouble ; for it was just the voice of the ass.' The foreign legend of ' The Wandering Jew ' may be named among the People's Books of the time. Some better stories such as 'The Fair Magelone,' 'Patient Helene/ 'Melusina,' 'Genoveva,' and ' The Four Sons of Haimon,' though long popular in Ger- many, had also a foreign origin, and must therefore be only briefly noticed. A collection of 'People's Books,' containing thirteen stories, was published by FEYERABEND in 1578. Among later and better editions may be named SCHWAB'S Buck der schon- sten Geschichten und Sayen (1836), and SIMROCK'S Collection (1845-67). 136 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. CHAPTER XL FIFTH PERIOD. 1625-1725. THE TIMES OPITZ AND HIS SCHOOL LUTHERAN AND PIETISTIC HYMNS SECULAR LYRICAL POETRY DIDACTIC AND SATIRICAL TERSE THE DRAMA POPULAR SONGS AND BALLADS. THAT the literature of a people represents their national life and progress, is a theory that must be understood so as to leave room for remarkable exceptions, such as we find in the earlier part of the period 1625-1725. During that time, men who wrote in verse or prose mostly turned their attention away from political and military affairs. The religious and ecclesiastical struggles of the sixteenth century, and the political movements for which the Reformation had been made to serve as a pretext, had failed to give either union or liberty to the German nation. The old order, founded on authority, had been broken in many parts of the empire, and intolerance, aided by the ambition of princes, could not supply a basis for a new union of three churches with the state. The stern divisions of opinions between Lutherans and Calvinists ; the efforts of the Jesuits in the South of Germany ; the competition of princes for absolute power, and worse than all the interference of foreign powers ; all helped to make the land a battle-place of religious, political, and military parties a realisation, on a vast scale, of the whole theory of intolerance. The lower powers of human nature, which had been held down or regu- lated, to some extent, under the old authority of the Church, had broken loose, and rapacious adventurers were the rulers of the times. Of the miseries that followed the outbreak of the Thirty Years' War, the literati of the age tell us little. Thoughtful and senti- mental men turned away from evils too great to be speedily remedied, and occupied their minds, as well as they could, in XI.] LITERARY SOCIETIES. 187 making verses, or in other harmless studies. Religious men looked away from this -world into another, and expressed their longings in devout hymns which, during this period, became more and more expressive of personal feelings. Other educated men found recreation as members of several societies which were in- stituted for the culture of the German language. One of these literary unions included a great number of princes and noblemen, who called themselves ' The Palm Order/ or ' The Fruit-bringing Society.' Among other unions founded for the same purpose the ' German Association ' at Hamburg (1643), and the ' Pegnitz Order' (1644), of which some scanty vestiges remained a few years ago, may be named. The Literary Societies established near the close of the century had a higher character than those above noticed. Many of the poets and versifiers, who were members of societies like these, were classified with regard to their respective localities, or as belonging to several ' schools.' The First Silesian School, with Opitz at its head, was the most important. The Saxon School could boast of one poet, Paul Fleming, and the Hamburg School counted among its members Zesen, a purist in language, and one of the more earnest of the members of the Palm Order. The worst versifiers, with regard to their moral purport and their affectations in style, belonged to the Second Silesian School, of which HofTmannswaldau was the representative. Opitz and his followers made great improvements in versifi- cation, and the members of the unions banished foreign words from German poetry, but its internal character was mostly imitative. French models were admired at the courts where successful versi- fiers such men as Canitz and Besser found patronage. In Epic poetry, hardly anything noticeable was produced by the schools. Their best writings were lyrical, and the hymns were better than the secular songs of the times. Their idylls and pastorals, telling of the bliss of solitary or associated shepherds in flowery fields, are inane affectations ; but the language of the heart may be heard in such hymns as were written by Heermann, Gerhardt, and Xeumark. In the lower popular poetry of the times soldiers' songs prevail ; but we hear also of the complaints of the peasantry, who were made victims by the armies of both confessions of faith. Didactic and descriptive poems (so called) were as dull as they deserved to be ; but in satires some improvement was made by 138 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cu. condensing them into the epigrammatic forms chosen by Logau and Wernicke. The Drama was represented chiefly by three authors, Gryphius, a melancholy man, who wrote heavy tragedies, but showed some humour in comedy; Lohenstein, whose style is the extreme of bombast ; and Weise, who generally tried to make his dramas moral and useful in their purport. It must be added that they are full of platitudes. The prose written during this century is, on the whole, inferior to the verse. Several men of some learning and no taste wrote in the German-Latin called by Leibnitz ' Mischmasch ; ' others, misled by vanity, or intending to satirise a bad fashion, inserted French, Italian, and Spanish phrases in their prose. Meanwhile, in the universities, lectures on history, law, and other branches of learn- ing were delivered and dry controversial theology was written in Latin. Near the close of the century, the pietists made some im- provement in both form and purport. German was substituted for Latin, and religion took the place of theology. It is hardly necessary to add that, in the above remarks on the German prose written during the seventeenth century, no reference has been made to the writings of Leibnitz and Wolf. With regard to both their style and their internal character, they belong to the eighteenth century. The greatest formal improvement in the literature of the period must be ascribed to the founder of the First Silesian School, MARTIN OPITZ, who was born in 1597, at Bunzlau in Silesia. He studied at Frankfort and at Heidelberg, and published, in 1618, a Latin essay on 'Contempt of the German Language.' His most important work, the ' Book on German Poetry ' (1624), passed through nine editions before 1669, and produced a reforma- tion in versification. For three centuries nearly, the art of writing in verse had degenerated and, at last, had been reduced to nothing better than a mere counting of syllables. Opitz insisted on the importance of both metre and rhythm, while he contended for purity in the choice of words. His own attainments as a scholar especially as a writer of respectable Latin verses recommended his book to the notice of educated men, and its success made Opitz the founder of a new school, the First Silesian. His ser- vices were, however, confined to the form of poetry ; of its spirit, or inner power, he knew little or nothing. His own poems are XL] OPITZ. 139 correct but imitative, and show good sense rather than genius. The best of his lyrical poerns, are found in his 'Consolations during the Miseries of War' (1632). ' Zlatna, or Peace of Mind ' (1623), and ' The Praise of Rural Life,' both express a love of re- tirement, and show a tendency to reduce poetry to descriptive and didactic verse-writing. In ' Vesuvius,' we have the first de- scriptive poem written in German. In his later years Opitz trans- lated the Psalms and the Antigone of Sophocles and edited 'The Annolied,' a German poem of the twelfth century. The praise bestowed on Opitz during his lifetime now appears ex- travagant. His fame extended to Paris, where critics who could not read his poems declared boldly that ' he had redeemed his native land from the reproach of barbarism.' As his merits were purely formal, and could not be seen in a translation, this Parisian laudation must have been an echo or an intuition ; but it served to confirm the poet's fame at home. He was elected a member of the aristocratic ' Palm Order,' instituted for the culture of the German Language, and in 1627 was raised to the rank of nobility a* Martin Opitz von Boberfeld. After several years of service in diplomacy, he settled in Dantzig, and gained, in 1637, an appoint- ment as historiographer to the King of Poland. He was closely engaged in historical researches, and was looking forward to the enjoyment of years of literary industry, when his career was cut short. He died in August, 1639, of the plague, caught from a beggar to whom he had given alms. To explain the high reputation gained by the literary labours of Martin Opitz, his works must be estimated with the aid of references to his predecessors and his contemporaries. In cor- rectness and good taste, his theory and practice made a new epoch in German Poetry. Though its spring-time the thirteenth century had been promising, its summer was long in coming. Shakspere had lived in England, and Hooker and Bacon had written in their noble prose styles; but no such literature as theirs had followed the Reformation in Germany. It was a dreary time in literature and in life when Opitz lived, and he did the best thing for literature that a man of his talents could have done at such a time. He could not change its purport ; but he polished its exterior. We cannot speak as favourably of many of his imitators, who made a mere amusement of versification. Having nothing to 140 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. say, they might have said it more concisely. Their mediocrity was, however, so well sustained, that, when viewed as a proof of steady perseverance, it looked like a virtue. The road from Hamburg to Berlin is not flatter than the works of several of the poetasters who followed Opitz. To find the best and the most sincere poetry of these dreary times, we must turn to the hymns written for the service of the Church. Here we have specimens of sacred poetry that may worthily follow the hymns of the Lutheran age. The first au- thor who combined some lyrical inspiration with attention to the new laws of verse which Opitz had introduced, was JOHANNES HEKBMAIW, born in 1582, in Silesia. He was for some years a pastor at Kb'ben on the Oder, and after a life of suffering, during which he hardly enjoyed one day's health, died in Poland in 1647. His best hymns and other lyrical poems are contained in his Haus- tmd Herz-Mmicrt (' Music for Home and for the Heart'), published at Leipzig in 1639. They express the religious discontent the contrast between this life and a higher that supplies the key-note for a great part of the sacred poetry written during the Thirty Years' War. The same feeling is discernible even in the verses written by a girl, SIBYLLA SCHWARZ, who died in 1638, when only seventeen years old. ' This world has been for me,' she says, ' a school for learning sorrow ; ' and she might well say so, for her father's homestead was burned down in the course of the war. ' Vanity of vanities ; all is vanity,' is the text so often chosen by ANDREAS GRYPHITJS (born in 161.6), that he wearies his readers, who may, however, excuse him when they read his biography. His 'Churchyard Thoughts' (1656), and his Odes and Sonnets often express gloomy sentiments, as when he speaks thus of him- self: Since first I saw the sun's fair light, no day For me without some grief has passed away. Happy the child who, from the mother's breast, Early departs in Paradise to rest ! One of his best hymns begins with this stanza : The glories of this earthly ball In smoke and ashes soon must fall; The solid rocks will melt away ; Our treasures all, our pleasures all, Must fade as dreams before the day. XI.] PIETISM. 141 The melancholy expressed by Gryphius was unaffected. He had lost both father and moth'er in his early life, had been cast on the world by a stepfather, and after wandering about here and there, gaining his subsistence as a private tutor, had settled at Freistadt in Silesia. Thence he was driven by religious perse- cution, and after wandering again in search of employment through several places, he was elected, at last, syndic to the principality of Glogau in Silesia, where he died in 1664. In his choice of themes for sacred poetry, and in his prevailing funeral tones, he might be regarded as the master of a school. Like Gryphius in the tone of their sacred poetry were SIMON DACH (1605-59), though he could be lively in his secular verses, ROBERT ROBERTHIX (1600-48), and his friend HEIXRICH ALBERT (1604- 88). CHRISTIAN GRTPHITTS (1649-1706), the sou of Andreas, above noticed, was an inferior versifier, whose melancholy, in one elegy at least, was quite out of place. He wrote a long and dismal lamentation, instead of a call to arms, when Vienna was besieged by the Turks in 1683. The general tendency of the sacred lyrical poetry of the seven- teenth century was towards Pietism. PHILIPP JAKOB SPENER, a Lutheran pastor, who lived near the close of the period, was called the founder of the Pietists: but their best thoughts had been expressed by earlier writers. There had long existed, not two, but three chief parties in the Church, representing respectively, external authority, intellectual orthodoxy, and mysticism, so called. The new name given to a moderated mysticism was Pietism, and, like the old name, it was used as a term of reproach. Lutheran orthodoxy, as taught by some professors, had become as dry as any branch of mathematics, and would have been as cold, if the heat of controversy had not supplied the want of vital warmth. Wrangling about articles was as dominant in the Protestant Church as scholastic disputation had been in the Catholic, and the Pietists now held in the Lutheran a position like that which the Mystics had occupied in the Romish Com- munion. Spener held all the Lutheran articles of belief, but as- serted that a creed was no substitute for a religion of the heart. ' We must have,' said he, 'the living faith of Luther, as well as his orthodoxy.' Spener only gave expression to the thoughts and feelings of several predecessors, including some of the best hymn- writers of the time. 142 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. In the hymns -written by PAUL FLEMING (1609-40), we find little of the tendency to Pietism of which we have spoken. One of his best hymns still sung in German congregations begins with the line, ' In alien meinen Thaten.' Like many other lyrical poems, it is hardly translatable. With regard to his popular energy of expression, the Jesuit, FRIEDRICH SPEE (1591-1635) might be ranked next to Paul Fleming ; but he was more remark- able for his benevolence than for his poetic genius. He was zealpus in his endeavours to expose the cruelty of persecuting women accused of witchcraft. When asked why his hair had turned grey at the age of forty years, Spee replied : ' It is because I have seen so many women taken to the stake, to be burned for witchcraft, and I never knew one fairly found guilty.' In one of his best lyrical poems, Spee gives expression to the enthusiasm that so soon made the order of Jesuits a formidable power in Europe. He writes thus of the missionary zeal of St. Francis Xavier : When the stern devoted man Talked of sailing to Japan,. All his friends conspired together, All against him set their faces, Talked of seas in stormy weather, Dangers grim in desert places. Hush you ! close your dismal story ! What to me are tempests wild ? Heroes, on their way to glory, Mind not pastimes for a child. Blow, ye winds ! North, South, East, West 'Tis for souls of men I'm sailing, And there's calm within my breast While the storm is round me wailing. Writers of hymns, more or less successful, were so numerous in this period, that we must, without any disrespect, pass by several names worthy of some notice such as Frank and Schmolcke and we can mention KHS T CKHART (1586-1649) only as the author of the very popular hymn ' Nan danket alle Gott ' (' Let all men praise the Lord'), introduced by Mendelssohn in his Lobyesang. GEOEG NEUMARK (1621-81), who was a virtuoso on the viol da gamba, wrote and set to music a fine hymn, expressing an absolute trust in Providence, and beginning with the line, ' Wer nur den lieben Gott Idsst walten.' The tune was introduced by Mendelssohn, in XI.] GEKHARDT. 143 his oratorio ' St. Paul,' and was one of Prince Albert's favourite sacred melodies. PAUL GERHAKDT (1606-76), who was like Xeumark in his choice of a key-note, was, on the whole, the best sacred lyrical poet of the seventeenth century. He departed from the old Lutheran style, without falling into the weak sentimentalism of the later Pietists and the United Brethren. Like Neumark, he sings of the repose that attends a firm and resolute faith. If any serious fault can be found in his hymns, it is that they are, in some instances, too long. One of the most pleasing of the series begins with the melodious line, l Ntm ruhen alle Wiilder ' (' Now all the woods are sleeping'), and has long been a favourite. But his best hymn still sung by many congregations in Germany and in England begins with the lines, Commit thou all thy griefs And ways into his hands. The twelve stanzas of which the hymn consists all serve to expand but one thought : Give to the winds thy fears ! Hope, and be undismayed ! God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears ; God shall lift up thy head. Through waves, and clouds, and storms, He gently clears thy way : Wait thou his time, so shall this night Soon end in joyous day ! Several hymn-writers, differing widely in some respects, were united by one common trait their expression of personal sentiments, rather than orthodox opinions. They were men of various creeds, and were called either Mystics, or Pietists, or Pantheists, as taste might dictate. All were weary of the dry theological controversy of their times, and wanted a religion for the heart and the life of man, rather than for his head. To JOHANNES SCHEFFLER, or Angelus Silesius, as he was called (1624- 77), the titles Pantheist and Mystic might be applied more fairly than to many other writers so named. His chief characteristic was a bold and unguarded expression of views on personal religion. He had read Bohme's works ; but his interpretation of them was questionable. In his later life, he entered the Roman Catholic 144 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. Church, and became a member of the order of Minorites. After this change of profession, his writings were rather didactic than mystic. His most remarkable book, the Cherubinische Wanders- mann (1657), consists of a series of short mystic sayings in rhyme, hardly pointed enough to be called epigrams, but frequently very audacious in their assertions. It is quite enough to say of them, that, on account of their brevity, they are mostly abstract and un- qualified ; yet fhey were admired, in their day, by both Protestants and Catholics. Scheffler wrote some superior hymns, including one beginning with the line, ' Follow me ! the Lord is saying,' and another beginning with the words, ' Thee will I love, my strength, my tower ! ' The latter was translated into English, and is still sung in many chapels. It expresses a glowing devotion, as one stanza the last may suffice to show : Thee will I love, my joy, my crown, Thee will I love, my Lord, my God, Thee will I love, beneath thy frown, Or smile, tin- sceptre, or thy rod : What though my flesh and heart decay? Thee shall I love in endless day ! Poetry has a conciliatory power, and sects differ less in their hymns than in their catechisms. This hymn, written by ' a Pan- theist,' who was afterwards a Franciscan monk, is now sung in Wesleyan chapels. CHRISTIAN KNOER VON ROSENROTH, who died in 1689, was a mystic of a character widely different from that of the Pietists. He studied alchemy and cabbalistic, so-called science. His mysticism is generally moderated, or we may say veiled, in his sacred lyrics, of which several are translations from Latin. QUIRIXUS KUHLMANN, born at Breslau in 1651, published a col- lection of sacred lyrical poems (1684), which contain a few good passages, and many extravagant expressions. He is now remem- bered chiefly on account of his miserable death. Having indulged his imagination in dreams of a millennium, he wildly endeavoured to establish it. It was to begin with a union of Jews and Christians, and to preach this doctrine, he wandered about in Eng- land, France, Turkey, and Russia. In Moscow his fanatical preach- ing gave great offence to the Patriarch. Kuhlmann was arrested and imprisoned as a heretic, and after a short trial was condemned to be burned alive. This horrible sentence was carried into exe- cution on October 4, 1689. XL] SECULAK LYRICAL POETRY. 145 GERHARD TERSTEEGEN (1697-1769), one of the latest of the Pietistic hymn-writers of this time, was a poor ribbon-weaver, who lived for some years on a bare diet of meal and milk-and-water, and gave away his savings in alms to people who were even poorer than himself. He published a collection of poems under the title of ' A Spiritual Flower-Garden ' (1731). It has no great variety of thoughts, but contains one fine hymn, of which an imitation rather than a translation was included in the hymn-books published by John and Charles Wesley. The second stanza has been thus translated : Lo ! God is here ! him, day and night, The united choirs of angels sing ; To him, enthroned above all height, Heaven's host their noblest praises bring : Disdain not, Lord, our meaner song, Who praise thee with a stammering tongue. JOACHIX XEANDER (1610-80) was called ' the Paul Gerhardt of the Reformed Church.' JOHANN ANASTASITJS FRETLINGHATJSEN (1670-1739) wrote Pietistic hymns, and published in 1704, and afterwards, an extensive collection of hymn-tunes. His book shows that a change of taste had taken place during the seven- teenth century, with regard to the tunes as well as the hymns sung by many congregations. While the hymns were made sentimental, the tunes were highly decorated or disfigured. Several of the more florid and lively melodies given by Freyling- hausen would now excite great surprise if introduced in public worship. If a great prominence has been here given to the hymn-writers of this period, it has been because their writings contain more sincere thought an d feeling than can be found in the greater part of the secular poetry of these times. FLEMING, who wrote at the beginning of the period, and GUNTHER, whose poems relieved the dulness of its close, might both be called poets ; but in the interval defined by these two names there are found but few verse-writers worthy of any extended notice. FLEMING'S sonnets, occasional poems, and epistles show poetical powers far superior to those of most of his contemporaries. He was comparatively free from the common fault of the age writing for the sake of writing and his poems have interesting references to the events of his times. W r e find more historical than poetical L 146 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. value in a versified ' Narrative of the Thirty Years' War ' written by GEORG GREFLINGER, who died in 1682. PHHIPP VON ZESEX (1619-89) wrote lively songs and epigrams, but his best services to literature were his writings in favour of the cultivation of his native language. He had, however, more to say than JOHAXN HIST (1607-67), who was little better than a rhymer, though he wrote some hymns that were accepted by the Church. PHILIPP HARSDORFFER (1607-59), who wrote ' Songs and Conversations in Verse/ may be commended more for his moral purport than for his powers of invention. FRIEDRICH CANITZ (1654-99) copied the French style of Boileau in several satires. His verses are cold and artificial: but he wrote neatly, and assisted in the reformation begun by Opitz. JOHANN BESSER (1654-1729) was a small laureate and master of ceremonies at the court of Dresden, and devoted to these offices the studies of his life. Many of his verses are adulatory ; others are objectionable in purport, but were praised in their day for their neatness of expression. Among several of the descriptive poets of these times we may select as a representative BARTHOLD BROCKES (1680-1747), who wrote poems of no high merit, expressing his delight in the study of nature. A flower-garden might have supplied all the materials required for such poetry as he wrote. He would acknowledge the receipt of a rare tulip by writing a sonnet, or perhaps an ode, on its beauties. He was happy in his mediocrity, and wrote congratula- tory verses addressed to himself on his birthdays. His translations introduced Thomson's ' Seasons ' and Pope's ' Essay on Man ' to German readers. All the second or third-rate authors thus briefly noticed were more respectable than those who belonged to the Second Silesian School. Its chief representative, HOFFMANN VON HOFFJIANSWALDAU (1618-79), wrote lyrical and other poems, of which both the pur- port and the style were extremely objectionable ; the former was coarsely sensuous, the latter bombastic and affected. There might be found some minor merits, with regard to style, in some of the writers briefly noticed in the preceding paragraphs ; but, on the whole, it may be asserted that they contributed hardly any thoughts to the resources of German literature. At the close of their dull period a youth appeared whose writings gave promise of a brighter day for poetry. CHRISTIAN GUNTHER (1695-1723) wrote several poems founded on the unhappy incidents of his own short life. XI.] DIDACTIC AND SATIRICAL VERSE. 147 His early follies had offended his father, who would not forgive him, and Giinther, left without hope, became intemperate. After au attempt at reformation he gained some patronage at the Saxon court, which he soon lost, and later, when, apparently penitent, he returned home to ask for his father's forgiveness, he was driven out into the world again. After some wretched wanderings in Silesia he died in miserable circumstances. His poems give proof of imaginative powers worthy of a better development. Among several didactic and satirical authors of verse FRIEDRICH LOGAT; (1604-55) was the best. He published a series of epi- grams in 1638, and another, more extensive, in 1654. Copies of the latter have now become very rare. Many of his proverbs and epigrams are rather earnest than witty or pointed, and refer to the political and social circumstances of his time, which he truly describes as deplorable. The following is one of Logau's shortest epigrams : Lutherans, Papists, Calvinists abound ; But where, I ask, are Christians to be found ? HAXS WILMSEX LATJREMBERG (1590-1629) was among the boldest opponents of Opitz, and wrote in praise of the Low German language. One of his chief rules for writing well is, ' always to call a spade a spade,' and he observes it conscientiously. He writes with great freedom and liveliness, and introduces popular stories to enforce his doctrine. One of his satires is well directed against the rhyming mania of his times, but in writing it he was declaiming against himself. Another satirist, JOACHIM RACHEL (1618-63), a follower of Opitz, feebly imitated Persius and Juvenal. In one of his best pieces, entitled ' The Poet,' he pours contempt on the poetasters of his day ; but this was better done in a prose satire published by JOHANN RIEMER in 1673. The following is a specimen of Riemer's advice to the poetasters of his times : To attain facility you must keep your wits in practice by continually making verses on all kinds of trivial subjects; for instance, a sonnet 'on Lisette's new straw bonnet,' or a canzonet 'on Durandula's bodice.' 'Cordelia's nightcap' may suggest materials enough to fill a long ode. Acquire the art of producing rhymes for the most uncouth words, and if you are obliged to use nonsense sometimes, say that you did it to produce a certain droll effect. However insignificant your verses may be, never publish them without some high-sounding title, such as ' Parnassian Bridal- Torches.' Never uiiud about the sense of it, if it is only pompous enough. L2 148 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. Though the subject of your poem may be trivial, take care to write a grand introduction, invoking Apollo and all the nine Muses to come to your assistance in a great work. This style of building a grand entrance to a little house is very good in poetry. When you make a beginning, never care about the end : they will match together in some way, no doubt. Expletives are too much despised in these times. Fill your verses with them, as they are very cheap. Employ also as many allusions to pagan mythology as you can find ; for thus you may fill your pages with numerous explanatory notes about ancient deities Mars, Vulcan, and Venus which need not be correct, as few readers trouble themselves about such matters. Use two or three words instead of one whenever you can ; for instance, style nature 'our productive mother,' and call your dog 'the barking quadruped.' Never blot out what you have written ; for if you do not esteem highly your own productions, who will ? Believe all that your friends and admirers say, and praise all who praise you. If a friend declares that you are ' the Opitz of the age,' immediately return the compliment by styling him 'the Fleming of his time.' CHRISTIAN WERNICKE. who died about 1720, -was a critic as well as a satirist, and published a series of epigrams (1697), of which several were directed against poetasters. That his pen was as sharp in the point as Kiemer's will be seen in the following brief critique, which might be fairly applied to many of the imitators of Opitz : ' Your plan is good,' says the critic ; your verse, fluent ; your rhyme, correct ; your grammar, right; 'your meaning is nowhere to be found.' BENJAMIN NEUKIECH (1665- 1729), another satirist, wrote even more severely against poet- asters ; but he betrays the temper of a disappointed man. He had written some unsuccessful odes and other lyrical poems. ' Writing poetry in these times,' he says, ' is the way to starva- tion, as I know well by experience.' The literary aspect of this dull period does not improve when we turn our attention to the drama. ANDREAS GRYPHITJS, already named as a lyric poet, wrote several tragedies : ' Leo Armenius ' (1646), 'Papinian ' (1659), and 'Karl Stuart,' which was founded on the fate of Charles I. of England. These dramas have been regarded as having some importance, on account of the improve- ments which they introduced in plot and construction ; but their literary character is low, and they are full of the gloomy senti- ments which have been noticed in the occasional poems of the same author. Yet through all the disguise of false taste we see some evidences of rude, undisciplined power. In his ' Charles Stuart ' he introduces choruses in which ' Religion ' and other personifications speak. Many of the sentiments put into the XI.] THE DRAMA. 149 mouths of these imaginary characters are unjust, and betray the writer's ignorance of the state of parties in England ; but some of the declamations employed have force and point, such as we find in the following passage : Religion speaks. Being Supreme ! whose eye all souls can see ; Whose service is pure, self-denying love : Why in this world hast thou commanded me To stay ? Receive me in yon realms above ! Why 'mid the sons of Mesech must I dwell ? Alas that I in Kedar's tents abide ! Where evil-minded men would me compel To aid them, and their traitorous schemes to hide. Alas that e'er from heaven I hither came ! My robes are stained with earthly spots ; my face No longer with pure brightness shines ; my name Is used for falsehood, covered with disgrace. * * * * Open, ye clouds ! receive me now, ye skies ! I fly from earth, and leave my robe behind, Which still may serve some traitors for disguise : 'Tis but a shadow of myself they'll find. (Religion flies from the earth, and drops her robe.) First Zealot. Stay, fairest maid ! why hasten you away ? Second. I hold you fast. I love your bright array. Third. Xay ; she is gone ! Her empty robe you hold ! Second. Well ; this is mine. It's worth can ne'er be told ! Fourth. Some portion of it fairly mine I call ! First. Your strife is vain; for I must have it alL Fifth. The robe is torn. Sixth. No part of it is thine ! For it is mine. Seventh. And mine ! Eighth. And mine ! Ninth. And mine ! Gryphius was a man of gloomy temperament ; yet his come- dies are better than his tragedies. In his drama oddly entitled ' Horribiliscribrifax ' he gives some portraitures of the rude military manners introduced by the war, and ridicules the confusion of tongues that prevailed in his day. One character in the play is a schoolmaster who talks in bad Latin ; another mixes Italian with German ; a third uses French idioms, and a Jew mingles Platt- deutsch with Hebrew. The author's best dramatic writing is found in the interlude of Dornrose, inserted in his melodrama Das i-erliebte Gespemt. His writings are respectable, when con- 150 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. trasted with those of a dramatist who must now be briefly noticed. DANIEL CASPAR VON LOHENSTEIN (1635-83), one of the chief representatives of the Second Silesian School, wrote atrocious and bombastic plays, of which no analysis can be given. A German critic Prof. Max Miiller has truly said that it is the duty of a literary historian to consign to oblivion the writings of the two chiefs of the Second Silesian School ; but Lohenstein's plays ' Ibrahim Bassa' (1689), 'Cleopatra' (1661), 'Epicharis' and ' Agrippina,' the worst of the series may be named as signs of the degradation of the theatre during these times. It may be safely predicted that dramatic entertainments will never fall below the tone of the German theatre in the days of Lohenstein; it ' sounded the lowest base-string of humility.' Such curiosities as ' fire-works,' ' cannonades,' ' regiments of soldiers in the cos- tumes of various nations,' and capital punishment executed on the stage, were admired. Mars, Venus, Apollo, Fame, Peace, Virtue, Vice, France, Spain, and Italy, were introduced as dramatic characters. In one piece ' Judas hangs himself on the stage, while Satan sings an aria.' In another opera Nebuchadnezzar exhibits himself dressed in 'eagles' feathers.' In 'Semiramis' the roses in the royal garden are metamorphosed into ladies. In ' Jason ' the ship Argo is raised into the heavens, and changed into a constella- tion. ' Echo ' was a favourite theatrical character. In one of Lohenstein's pieces the 'continent of Asia' is introduced as a person deploring her calamities. When contrasted with Lohenstein's plays, the dramatic pieces written in prose by CHRISTIAN WEISE (1642-1708) might be called respectable. His scenes are derived from real life, but his style is prosaic and trivial. He wrote several romances, in which his didactic purport was more prominent than his inventive power. These notices of versifiers have told us very little of the thoughts and feelings of the common people, who still had their own lite- rature, though it was scantier than in older times. Its chief materials were old jest-books and new prophetic almanacs. The folly satirised by Fischart had increased rather than abated, and we find popular preachers complaining that the peasantry had more faith in their almanacs than in the Bible. Few of the people's songs of the time have been preserved, and these are mostly soldiers' songs. One of the most characteristic is called XI.] POPULAR SONGS AND BALLADS. 151 ' The Soldiers' Paternoster,' in which lines of verse are inserted between the short sentences of the Lord's Prayer ; so that the whole reads as a bitter protest against the wrongs inflicted on the peasants by marauders. The only plea that can be offered for this strange composition is that there is no levity, but rather stern indignation, in its tone. The most common fault of the historical ballads of the time is their inordinate length ; the writers try to tell everything. In one of the shortest we have a tragic tale of two soldiers returning from the war. One, who brings some booty with him, is un- recognised^when he enters his father's house, a village tavern : The hostess, a woman with coal-black hair, Stood looking out of the window there ; He gave to her, before he dined, His heavy belt, with gold well lined. In the morning his corpse was found in the cellar, and his comrade thus addressed the landlady : "Woman, you know not what you've done The murdered man was your own son ! . On hearing this, the wretched woman escaped from the house and drowned herself, and soon afterwards Her man in the stable hanged himself. cursed gold and love of pelf! One of the best of these Soldiers' Songs tells of the exploits of the great Austrian General, Prince Eugene, and is still remem- bered by the people. 152 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. CHAPTER XII. FIFTH PEEIOD. 1625-1725. PBOSE FICTION HISTORY THE THIRTY YEARS* WAR TRAVELS LETTERS DIDACTIC PROSE PIETISM LEIBNITZ WOLF. THE prose written in this period is mostly rugged in style, some- times half-foreign, and deformed by affectation and pedantry ; but it contains interesting references to historical events, and some contributions to our knowledge of the state of society in Germany during the darkest years of the seventeenth century. Among a few noticeable books in prose fiction the romance of Simplicissimus (1669), by HANS JAKOB CHEISIOPH VON GKIHMELS- HATTSEN (1625-76), claims attention, especially for its references to contemporary historical events. In several parts of the story we find interesting, though occasionally rude, pictures of life in Germany during the miserable war of thirty years. The author had. during his youth, served in the army ; but he spent his later years at Reuchen, in the Baden district of the Black Forest. He had the humour of assuming several names on the title-pages of his satiri- cal stories ; so that his real name long remained unknown. He represents his hero the son of a poor Spessart farmer as a vaga- bond who, under the mask of simplicity, satirises the vices of society, especially the demoralisation of military men. There is genial humour in parts of the story ; but the descriptions are often too lengthy, as a passage from the introduction would show, if given without any abridgement. Here the Spessart farmer's son ridicules the pride of many men of higher birth : My father's mansion was built by his own hands, which is more than can be said for the palaces of princes. In some details of architecture my father had a peculiar taste. For instance, he decorated the exterior of his building with plaster ; and for the roof, instead of barren tiles, lead, or copper, he used a good thatch of straw, thus displaying his love of agriculture in a style worthy XII.] PROSE FICTION. 153 of a descendant from the first nobleman who tilled the ground Adam. In the painting of the interior my father allowed his walls to become slowly darkened with the smoke from our wood fire. There was an aristocratic reason for this ; for the colour requires a long time to produce it in its full tone ; and it is certainly one of the most permanent styles of painting. Our windows were all dedicated to St. Noglass ; for as it takes a longer time to grow horn than to make glass, my father preferred the former. I hardly need remind the reader that this preference was in strict accordance with that refined aristocratic taste which values trifles according to the time and trouble required to produce them. My father kept no lackeys, pages, or grooms, but was always surrounded by his faithful dependents ; sheep, goats, and swine, all dressed in their natural and becoming suits of liven'. ... In our armoury we had the weapons which my father had often boldly carried to the field ; mattocks, hoes, shovels, and hay-forks, such weapons as were employed even by the ancient Romans during times of peace. My father was noted for his science in ' fortification ' (against his great enemy, hunger), which was displayed in his distribution of the contents of the farmyard on the land .... or cleaning out the stalls of the cattle. I tell these things, to show that I can be in fashion, and talk like other people when I like ; but I assure the reader that I am not puffed up and vaiii of my glorious ancestry. The Spessart farmer is murdered by a band of plundering soldiers ; but Simplicissimus, now only ten years old, escapes, and goes to live with a hermit, from whom he eceives some religious teaching. After the death of the hermit the boy is carried off by Swedish soldiers, and serves for some time as a page to an officer ; then runs away and hides himself in a forest. Here he pretends to be a pious hermit, while he supports himself by means of theft. When these resources have failed, he enters the Imperial army, where he can plunder with impunity. This part of the story de- scribes the license of the soldiery and the sufferings of the helpless people, whose stores served as plunder for the Imperial and the Protestant armies, with all their disinterested foreign allies. Our hero next falls as a prisoner into the hands of the Swedes ; but here meets with good treatment, and becomes ere long compara- tively rich. Then follows an unfortunate marriage and the loss of all his money, which compel him to turn quack-doctor and beggar. He returns to Germany, gains some money by dishonesty, buys a little farm and marries again unhappily. Once more he becomes a vagabond, and after a series of wanderings and adven- tures, that we cannot follow, is at last made quite weary of the pomps and vanities of this world. He retires to a hermit's cell on a desert island, and devotes himself exclusively to the practice of piety. He has a chance of escaping from his solitude, when a ship Io4 OUTLINES 01" GERMAN LITERATURE. [CH. calls at the island ; but he wisely refuses to return to such society as exists in his native land, and so the tale is ended. This story of a man living on a desert island was published about twenty years before Defoe's tale of ' Robinson Crusoe ' ap- peared in England. The latter romance, however, was the original, imitated in about forty German stories of hermits, that were pub- lished between the years 1721 and 1751 ; such as ' The German Robinson,' ' The Italian,' < The Silesian,' ' The Moral,' 'The Medical,' The Invisible Robinson,' and ' The European Robinsonetta ' the last telling the adventures of a solitary lady. One of the best of all these imitations ' The Island of Felsenburg,' written by LTTDWIG SCHJSTABEL in 1743 had a remarkable success. The earliest German story of a hermit like Crusoe is found in ' Mandarell,' written by EBERHARD WERNER HAPPEL, and pub- lished in 1682, about thirty-seven years before Defoe's story ap- peared. The miseries of the war must have been widely spread ; for we find them noticed even in such pastoral fantasias as were called Schafereien the most unreal of all the productions of the age. Nothing less than the outlines of one of these pastorals could give a notion of their inane character. A sad shepherd, expelled from his home by soldiers, wanders, accompanied only by his faithful dog, along the banks of the river Pegnitz, near Niirnberg. He begins to sing, of course ; but his melody is soon interrupted by that of another swain, and arrangements are made for performing a duetto. Enters ( Pamela,' a sad shepherdess, who, as a personi- fication of Germany, sings dolefully of the miseries of warfare. After some vain endeavours to afford consolation to ' Pamela,' the two shepherds wander away along the banks of the stream, until they come to a paper-mill. Here they sit down and make some very bad verses on the mill-wheel and on the noise of the water- fall. The first swain endeavours to imitate the sounds he hears and the second composes lines that may be printed in the shape of an anvil. For some reason, not mentioned, they then climb a hill near Niirnberg, and obtain a view over a fertile district. The goddess [Fame appears, bringing a wreath of laurel, to crown the maker of the best verses upon the wedding of some young people of whom we know nothing. The sad shepherds sing alternately, and when at last it is decided that their effusions are equally good or bad Fame flies away, and no more is heard of ( Pamela,' the XII.] PROSE FICTION. 155 desponding personification of Germany. Such imaginative attempts as these ScJiaftreien drive the reader away from fiction, and make him indulgent to even the rudest attempts at describing realities. JOHANN MICHAEL MOSENROSH otherwise called Moscherosch (1601-69), was descended from a noble Spanish family, and lost all his property during the war. His book, entitled ' The Visions of Philander ' (1642), is partly founded on the ' Suenos ' of Quevedo ; but the last seven visions of Philander, written in 1641-44, are mostly original, and contain severely satirical pas- sages, with sketches from real life during the Thirty Years' War. The writer knew by experience something of the horrors of civil war, and wrote with feelings of personal hatred. In one vision Philander is seized by a gang of soldiers, engaged in a foray on their own account, who show no mercy, save to those who buy it with gold. The Croats, Walloons, and other soldiers of the Imperial army are described in language that cannot be quoted as sheep in the presence of the enemy ; as wolves, when they are turned loose to rob the peasantry ; as marauders worthy of being led by a rapacious and treacherous adventurer. Writers of fiction could hardly be guilty of exaggeration when describing some of the events of those dreadful years from 1618 to 1648. above all the atrocious sack of Magdeburg. In the space of one year 1646 a hundred villages were burned down in Bavaria. In the course of the long war, the population of Augsburg was reduced from eighty thousand to eighteen thousand, while the devastation was far greater in the Rheinpfalz, where, in some districts, only about a fiftieth part of the former population remained. The events of his time had, possibly, some effect on the ima- gination of an inferior writer of fiction, ANDREAS HEINRICH BUCHHOLTZ (1607-71), who wrote 'Herkules and Valiska,' an absurd romance, with scenes laid in almost all the known coun- tries of the world, and full of battles, hardly one of which ends with a loss of less than three hundred thousand men on the side of the defeated army. Though he described such awful cata- strophes, the style of Buchholtz is tame when contrasted with that of his successor, HEINRICH ANSELM (1653-97), the Lohen- etein of prose. His romance, ' The Asiatic Banise,' begins with this passage: ' May lightning, thunder, and hail the wrathful instruments of Heaven crush the splendours of thy gilded towers, and may the vengeance of the gods consume thy wealth, qity ! 156 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. whose inhabitants were guilty of the overthrow of the Imperial Family ! ' This must have been thought fine in that day ; for Anselm's book was very popular, and its success encouraged him to write (in 1691) sixteen stories founded on the Old Testament, containing not only ' the love-letters of Abraham and Sarah/ but also such as passed between Adam and Eve ! LOHENSTEIN already noticed as a bombastic dramatist wrote, in tedious prose, an enormous romance in four parts, filling almost three thousand quarto pages, and entitled ' Arminius and Thus- nelda' (1731). One of his objects in writing it was 'to include the whole history of the German people.' Its table of contents tills ninety-six closely printed quarto pages. It is some relief to turn from such a heavy compilation of fiction to the historical works of Mascov, Birken, Arnold, and Zingref, though these writers were generally inferior to the chroniclers of earlier times. JOHANN JAKOB MASCOV (1689-1761) wrote a ' His- tory of the German People ' (1726-37), which extended no farther than the Merovingian kings. A ( History of the House of Austria,' compiled by SIGMTJND VON BIRKEN (1623-81) has some value, though it was written in submission to Imperial authority. GOTT- FRIED ARNOLD undertook a very difficult task in his 'Impartial Church History ' (1699). His chief object was to defend several sects that had been condemned for heresj', and to find out their real tenets. Hardly any task could be more hopeless than this. The materials for a history of the Thirty Tears' War are but imperfectly supplied by the vernacular literature of this period. PHILIPP VON CHEMNITZ (1605-78), historiographer to Queen Christina of Sweden, wrote more ably in Latin than in German, and left in manuscript a history of ' the Swedish War in Ger- many,' which was published at Stockholm in 1855-9. Under the assumed name of HIPPOLITTTS A LAPIDE, he published, in 1640, a remarkable treatise exposing some abuses of Imperial privileges. But we must refer to several comparatively obscure histories, as well as to letters, special memoirs, and works of fiction, to find a popular instead of a political narration of the war that devastated large districts of Germany in 1618-48. One of the most interesting of the special memoirs here referred to is an ac- count of ' The Sack of Magdeburg,' written, about 1660, by FRIED- RICH FRISIIJS, an eye-witness of the events which he described. In his story, and in some other historical documents of about the XII.] THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 157 same date, we have the horrors of the war brought into a focus and presented as realities, stripped of the disguise that cold, ab- stract hisfory supplies. All the public buildings of Magdeburg in flames, except the cathedral and the old convent; hundreds of people of all ages dying in streets heated like an oven by a con- flagration, driven on by a strong wind : marauders pouring in at the Hamburg gate some carrying bullets in their mouths for ready use, and shooting down the people ' like so many beasts of prey ; ' superior officers extorting from fathers of families their last dollar ; gangs of Walloon and Croatian soldiers bursting into houses with hoarse cries of ' Your money ! ' and terrified women swiftly turning out their hoards of silver spoons and trinkets, to save their lives ; in all the houses ' everything burst open and cut to pieces ; ' companies of girls and young women rushing to the bridge over the Elbe, linking their hands together, and leaping down into the river ; these are a few of the scenes brought before our vision by the testimony of eye-witnesses. Thirty thousand people of both sexes and all ages perished in that sack- ing of Magdeburg in the spring of 1631. Twice in the course of the war the Emperor had gained a vic- torious position, and had the power of making peace between the two chief parties; but after that sack of Magdeburg his forces seemed to be controlled by an evil destiny. The Imperial army, guilty of that atrocious massacre, was put to the rout by the King of Sweden, and Tilly, its commander who had been called the winner of thirty-six battles was soon afterwards mortally wounded. He was a man of strict piety, according to his notions attended mass daily and recited many prayers. The watch-word in his army at the sack of Magdeburg was ' Jesu, Maria.' His fall compelled the Emperor to call out Wallenstein, who formed a new army, but failed to prevent the victory of the Swedes at Lu'tzen, where their king was slain in 1632. There also fell Pappenheim, rejoicing when he knew that ' the heretic ' from Sweden was slain. Pappenheim was the most impetuous and fearless of all the Imperial generals, but as ruthless as he was brave. In one month in 1626 he slew forty thousand of the peasantry, in order to quell an insurrection, and afterwards wrote a calm narrative of the campaign. After the defeat at Lu'tzen the Emperor's army was allowed to remain almost idle, while its com- mander was negotiating for the sale of his services to the enemy. 158 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. "VVallenstein's dark plans were interrupted by his death in 1634, when he fell by the hands of assassins, who were richly rewarded by the Emperor. In the miserable time after Wallenstein s fall the war became more and more complicated by Swedish and French in- terventions. Catholic France aided the Protestants, in order to divide Germany, and at last the Peace of Westphalia (1648) left the Imperial power prostrate. A Diet, with cumbrous forms, devised to make union for ever hopeless, represented the extinct empire. Petty princes were made absolute. Germany lost two provinces and was shut in from the sea. Trade, industry, and education were almost destroyed. Hardly a third part of its former population remained in Bohemia, where the great strife began and ended. The Thirty Years' War had an effect on the national life and the literature of the German people so disastrous and permanent, that these few notes must not be regarded as out of place here. They would serve as an apology for the non-appear- ance of any literature whatever in these sad times. Among the few books of travels and descriptions of foreign countries produced in this period, the most interesting was written by ADAM OLEARIITS (1600-71). He attended, as secretary, embassies to Russia and Persia, acquired a knowledge of the Persian language, translated the Gulistdn (or ' Rose-Garden ') of Sadi, and wrote, with care and honesty, an account of his own travels (1647). One of the more important collections of letters having an his- torical interest contains the correspondence of CHARLOTTE ELIZA- BETH, the Duchess of Orleans (1652-1722), who lived about fifty years at the court of her brother-in-law, Louis XIV. She describes, in her rude German style, the state of society in France, and pre- dicts that a social disruption must follow the vices of her times. The Duchess was a woman of honest and masculine character, which it was her pleasure to assert by wearing a man's dress when she accompanied the great monarch in his hunting excursions. Of didactic prose-writings apart from theology little can be said. GEOE.G SCHOTTEL preceded Wolf as a writer on ethics, and LTJDWIG vox SECKEXDORF, the author of a book ' On the German Empire,' was one of the earliest writers on the theory of govern- ment. A work on ' Architecture, Sculpture, and Painting ' by JOACHUI VON SANDRART 1606-88) has been commended rather for its copper-plate engravings than for its style, and a ' History of XII.] DIDACTIC PKOSE. 159 the German Language ' (1716-20) by AUGUSTUS EGEXHOLF can be noticed only as a well-intended attempt. Another writer on philology SCHTJPP deserves more attention ; for he was one of the earliest protesters against pedantry, and might be described as a pioneer who prepared the way for Thomasius and Wolf. BA.LTHASAR SCHTTPP (1610-61), a preacher at Hamburg, con- demned the half-German and half-Latin language written by men who were called erudite. We cannot be surprised at the poverty of prose-writings in law, ethics, theology, and philosophy when we find Schupp apologising thus for writing and speaking in his own language : Wisdom is not confined to any language ; and therefore I ask, Why may I not learn in German how to know, love, and serve God that is, theology ? Or if I wish to study medicine, why may I not learn how to discern and cure diseases as well in German as in Greek and Arabic ? The French and the Italians employ their native languages in teaching all the arts and sciences. There are many great cardinals and prelates in Rome who cannot speak Latin ; and why may not a man, though ignorant of Latin and Greek, become a good German preacher ? I know he may ; for when I studied at Leyden, a new preacher was appointed to the pulpit of the Lutheran congregation there. He had been a painter, and had no advantages of classical education ; so many of the genteel students of law made jests on this preacher, because he ventured to ascend the pulpit before he had mastered Latin. However, he understood the Scriptures well, and I was more edified by his plain homilies than by the sermons of many learned and Latinised professors. Schupp's censure of the German-Roman jargon used in his day, and afterwards, will hardly be understood without a specimen. A short extract from GTJNDLING'S ' Discourse on History ' (pub- lished in 1737) will show that the style condemned by Schupp prevailed for some time after his death. We substitute English for German, and leave the Latin where Gundling inserts it : Not only Cicero, but all sensible men have agreed in saying that historia is magistra scholaque vitse ; for even the stulti, as well as the sapientes, may profit by this study : the latter may gain by it, ut caveant ab artiticiis stultorum, qua? detegit, aperitque historia. It also supplies practice for logic ; versatur enim circa distinguenda vero similia a vero dissimilibus. After this Gundling, with practice, might have pronounced ' a leash of languages at once.' For preliminary exercises on two languages, he might have found models in the sermons of one of the most popular Roman Catholic preachers of the seventeenth century "ULRICH MEGEBLE, otherwise called ABRAHAM A SANTA 160 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. CLARA (1642-1709), who preached very fluently in an odd mix- ture of German and Latin. His thoughts, like his words, made a medley; for he mingled puns, jokes, and droll stories with very severe admonitions. One cf his paragraphs, if rightly punctuated, would fill more than a large octavo page without once coming to a full stop. With all his eccentricity, he was a practical and earnest teacher. His style must be allowed to describe itself. Thus he addresses his hearers on the text, ' ye foolish Gala- tians ! ' Your preacher is treated now as St. Paul was treated. The Galatians. at one time, regarded him as an earthly angel, and listened to him with delight, as if his voice had been a celestial trumpet. . . . But when he began to preach severely and to say, insensati Galata? ! . . . then all turned against him ; inimicus factus sum vobis veritatem dicens. And so it remains now : as long as your preacher gives you pretty sayings well decked out and made pleasant with proverbs and stories you are all well pleased, and you say,' Vivat Pater ! a brave man ! I hear him with delight ; ' but when he begins to speak sharply and says, ' insensati German! ! ' he makes enemies for himself and sic facta est veritas in aver- sionem. . . . This style was described as ' Mischrnasch ' by LEIBNITZ in an essay ' On the Improvement of the German Language.' He ad- mitted the wealth of his mother-tongue in words for all im- pressions derived from the senses, but complained of a poverty of words wanted for writings on law, theology, and philosophy. To supply this want he recommended a development of the in- dependent resources of his native language, but at the same time condemned the extreme purists who would use no words derived from foreign languages. Among those who endeavoured to reduce to practice such rules as were suggested by Leibnitz, one of his contemporaries, CHRIS- TIAN THOMASITJS, (1655-1728), must be remembered. His con- tributions to the culture of a national literature deserve notice ; but his reputation does not rest upon them. Literature and life had been widely separated in the seventeenth century. Versifiers had studied metaphors and professors had written abstract trea- tises in Latin, while the miseries that attended and followed the war had prevailed throughout the land. Among the few writers of books who were also patriots, none was greater than THOMASITJS, a lawyer and an energetic, practical man, an enemy of the pedants and the bigots who were numerous in his day. He defended the XII.] PIETISM. 161 Pietists especially HERMANN FRANCKE not for the sake of their tenets, but because they claimed, as he believed, a reasonable freedom of thought. It must, however, be added that when they had gained it for themselves, they refused to allow others to enjoy it. In his lecture on ' The Right Way of Imitating the French ' (1687) Thomasius contended for the substitution of German for Latin in lectures given in the universities. The persecution to which he was subjected, on account of his defence of the Pietists, had a good result in the foundation of a new university at Halle, where he was appointed professor (1694) and director (1710). His German writings include a 'History of Wisdom and Folly ' (1693) and some ' Short Theorems ' on the witch-trials of his times (1704). In the latter book he successfully denounced cruel persecutions that had too long been encouraged by the arguments of theologians and jurists. Trials for the supposed crime of sor- cery had been instituted in Germany in the thirteenth century, but were suspended for some time when one of the chief inquisitors had been assassinated. Pope Innocent VIII. revived the crusade against magicians and sorcerers by a bull dated 1484, and soon afterwards persecutions were again instituted, and were main- tained, with more or less rigour, for about two centuries. The victims were mostly poor women, from whom absurd confessions were sometimes extorted, which served to confirm the delusion. The miseries that had attended and followed the Thirty Years' War had spread gloom and malevolent suspicion among the people, who, like barbarians, were often disposed to ascribe their mis- fortunes to persons rather than to circumstances: SPEE, a bene- volent Jesuit, already named as a poet, denounced the so-called trials of witches, and rather later BEKKER, a theologian of Amsterdam, wrote, for the same purpose, his ' Enchanted World ; ' but Thomasius had greater success than these predeces- sors, and after the publication of his book people became more and more ashamed of a doctrine that had been advocated by King James the First of England, and by many learned men in Germany. The controversial and systematic theology of the period was written in Latin. We have, therefore, to notice here only the Pietists, and one of the later Mystics who departed very widely from the principles of such men as Tauler. Of PHILIPP JAKOB SPENER (1635-1705), author of Pia Desideria and other de- x 162 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. votional writings in prose and verse, some account has already been given. His follower, AUGUST HERMANN FRANCKE (1663- 1727), the friend of Christian Thomasius and one of the most popular preachers of his times, is now remembered chiefly on acount of his practical and well-directed benevolence. He founded in 1698 the Orphan Home at Glaucha, near Halle, which has greatly increased, and now forms a small town in which the chief buildings are schools. A few years ago they contained more than three thousand boys and girls, who were receiving instruction from about one hundred and thirty teachers. Francke was driven to Halle by persecution, and, a few years afterwards, his followers drove the philosopher Wolf from Halle ! It is an old story : the Pietists, when successful, made their religion as external and as exclusive as the authority against which they had formerly pro- tested. They insisted on forms of phraseology, and found an im- portant difference in the words ' Shibboleth ' and ' Sibboleth.' Egotism and intolerance can lurk under all forms of doctrine, and are never so formidable as when they act with the assumed sanc- tion of religion. One of the later Mystics, JOHANN GEORG GICHTEL (1638-1710) may be named, because his writings show the results of that want of clear practical teaching which we have noticed in the works of the earlier Mystics. Gichtel gave to their doctrines an extremely ascetic, practical character, and founded a sect calling themselves 'Angelic Brethren ; ' who abstained from marriage, and believed that, by the practice of devotion, they might obtain supernatural powers. Their founder was driven from Germany for his heresy, and after- wards lived in Amsterdam, where he edited the first complete edition of BShme's writings. Gichtel's letters, which were pub- lished (without his consent) in 1701 and later, contain some ex- traordinary statements. It is asserted, for instance, that Gichtel alone, by the exercise of faith, and without leaving his chamber, defeated the large army sent against Amsterdam by Louis XIV. in 1672. History, as commonly believed, informs us that the Dutch opened their sluices and so defeated the enemy. Two writers who, by birth, belonged to the seventeenth, exerted their influence mostly in the eighteenth century. Leibnitz awakened philosophic thought, and Wolf found expressions for it in his native language. GOTTFRIED WILHELM LEIBNITZ (1646-1716), one of the greatest of scholars and thinkers, wrote XII.] LEIBNITZ. 163 his most important works in French and Latin, though he pleaded well for the culture of his native language. A union of the power of deep thought with versatile talents was the chief characteristic of Leibnitz, who was a philosopher, a mathematician, and a statesman. His life was a contrast to that of a lonely student ; he travelled often, maintained an extensive correspondence, and was engaged in important diplomatic services, especially with a view to the prevention of war between Germany and France. During a visit to London he became acquainted with Sir Isaac Newton, with whom he was afterwards involved in a long controversy respecting the discovery of the differential calculus. It appears clear that both Newton and Leibnitz arrived independently and by distinct processes at the same result. After hi& return to Ger- many he lived mostly in Hanover, but frequently visited the Court of Prussia, and founded, in 1700, the Academy of Sciences at Berlin. His religious opinions were conciliatory, and he corre- sponded with Bossuet, with a view to mitigate the severity of con- troversy. Leibnitz was a man of middle stature, active in body and mind, and remarkably healthy. He was a courtier, and has been accused of avarice and vanity ; was very careless of his own domestic affairs, and was never married. His philosophy cannot be fairly analysed, if seen out of its connection with the systems of other thinkers ; but two or three of its leading thoughts may be here indicated. Leibnitz, in opposition to the doctrine of Spinosa, regarded power, instead of substance, as the basis of all phenomena. Numerous forces (monads), ever active in their combinations and oppositions, but all serving for the accomplish- ment of one design, form the substantial, ideal world. The whole universe is a collection of forces always acting, and no inert sub- stance exists. In opposition to Locke's rejection of innate ideas,. Leibnitz asserts that the mind has innate ideas, but these, he says, are, when viewed apart from experience, 'virtual' andnot 'explicit.' In other words, thoughts contain elements not derived from the senses, but developed by means of sensation. In his Theodicee an essay on Optimism Leibnitz asserts that the actual world is the best possible world ; that physical evil may be viewed as a stimulus for the development of power, and that moral evil is in- separable from the freedom of intellectual beings. This freedom is overruled, however, by a pre-established harmony ; so that, in the end, all the powers that can deploy themselves are made to M'2 164 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. ' work together for good.' In one of his German essays Leibnitz indicated a comprehensive thought that was, long afterwards, more distinctly asserted by Fichte : that all the ideas expressed by such words as ' power,' ' freedom/ ' harmony/ ' beauty/ ' love/ and * happiness ' may be developments from one idea that of union, or of the subordination of many inferior powers to one higher power. In other parts of his writings Leibnitz expresses a belief that all philosophy may ultimately be reduced to one system ; having all its parts as closely united as the several branches of mathematics ; but his own method or rather, want of a method could never lead to such a result. The best systematic view of his speculations has been given by Kuifo FISCHER in his ' History of Modern Philosophy.' The German writings of Leibnitz were edited by Guhrauer in 1838-40. We append a passage from the essay above referred to : The greatness of any power must be measured by the extent to which it displays itself as an evolution of many from one, and as a subordination of many to one. . . . This union in variety is harmony. A subordination of parts one to another, and of all to the whole, produces order ; whence arises beauty, and beauty awakens love. Thus we find a close connection between all the ideas which we represent by such words as happiness, joy, love, per- fection, power, freedom, harmony, and beauty, as they all imply unity in variety. Now when the faculties of the human soul are developed in ac- cordance with this law, there is a feeling of consistency, order, freedom, power, and completeness, which produces an abiding happiness, distinct from all sensuous pleasures, and as it is constant, does not deceive us, and cannot produce future unhappiness, as partial pleasures may. It is always attended by an enlightened reason, and an impulse toward all goodne'ss and virtue. Sensuous, transitory, or partial pleasures may be mistaken for happiness ; but they may be clearly distinguished by this mark, that while they gratify the senses, they do not satisfy reason. An unwise indulgence in such pleasures introduces discord in our nature, and thus produces many evils. Pleasure, therefore, must not be regarded as an end, but may be em- ployed as one of the means of happiness. It should be viewed as a delicious cate, with a suspicion that it may contain something poisonous. In short, pleasures, like our daily diet, must be regulated by reason. But rational enjoyment arising out of a general harmonious wellbeing of our nature has in itself an evidence that it is purely good, and can produce no evil in the future. The chief means of promoting such joy must be the enlighten- ment of reason, and the exercise of the will in acting in accordance with reason. . . . If external advantages and pleasures could produce the happiness I have described, it would certainly be found in the possession of great and rich men. But Christ himself has said, it is very difficult for rich men ' to enter the Kingdom of Heaven,' or, in other words, to attain true happiness. Having around them an abundance of sensuous luxuries, they are disposed to seek satisfaction in joys which must be transitory ; or, when they rise XII.] WOLF. 165 above physical pleasures, they generally depend on an ambition to gain honour and applause. But sickness and age will surely take away all sensuous delights, and misfortunes may ruin all the objects of ambition. Thus all external pleasures fail, and those who have depended upon them nnd that they have been deceived. The devotion of a lifetime would have been demanded to reduce the hypotheses of Leibnitz to a system, but he never undertook such a task. One of his more important works the 'New Essays on the Human Understanding' was first pub- lished fifty years after his death. His doctrines were partly reduced to a systematic form by his follower CHRISTIAN WOLF (1679-1745), who threw aside such parts as he could not understand. Wolf was a man of great industry, and wrote an extensive series of works in Latin, and several shorter and clearer expositions of his system in German. In all his works he showed a love of order and clearness, which had a very important educational effect in his times, while his use of his own language greatly developed its resources. His systematic writings in German and Latin fill twenty-two quarto volumes. In 1707, and for fifteen years afterwards, he lectured with great success on mathematics and natural philosophy at Halle, until he was accused of heresy by some of his colleagues who were Pietists. The King, Friedrich Wilhelm I., willingly listened to the accusation ; for he hated philosophers, and had military notions of orthodoxy. It is true he kept at his court one professor, Paul Gundling the brother of the writer whose German-Latin style has been noticed but he was kept only as a court-fool to entertain the King ; was introduced, when iutoxicated, to amuse the King's friends in their evening smoking-club, and was, at last, buried in a wine-cask. Wolf was driven as a criminal from Prussia in 1723, and did not return until 1740, when Friedrich called the Great mounted the throne. The phi- losopher was then re-appointed professor at Halle, where he enjoyed, for some years, a high reputation as a teacher. Method and a clear arrangement of his thoughts were the most prominent merits of Wolfs writings ; but his method was dog- matic, and his system was an aggregate, not an organism. He dis- tinctly labelled his categories, but arranged them without regard to their logical uninn, and did not investigate their origin. He wrote down such predicates as ' finite ' and ' infinite,' ' simple ' and 'complex,' as if their meaning were self-evident and well understood 166 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. by everybody. Wolf knew nothing of such doubts as were afterwards introduced into metaphysics by Hume and Kant, and his writings, consequently, served to encourage a self-complacent dogmatism which, in a later time, disguised itself under the name of ' enlighten- ment.' In other respects his teaching had very good results, and the example of his clear style and methodical arrangement was followed by the popular philosophers of the eighteenth century. Without these notices of the writings of Leibnitz and Wolf a transition from the literature of the seventeenth to that of the eighteenth century would seem abrupt. In the period now briefly surveyed (1625-1725) but little improvement has been noticed, save in the art of writing verse ; in the next period 1725-70 are found prose-writings that, with regard to style, may challenge a comparison with the literature of the nineteenth century. We have arrived at the close of a long time of intellectual dul- ness, extending from the later Middle Ages to the end of the seventeenth century. The songs and ballads, the satires, the popular sermons, and the people's jest-books of those times have much historical interest ; but, if we had noticed books merely for their literary merits, almost four centuries might have been de- scribed as comparatively barren. Latin writers in theology and philology, too numerous to be mentioned, flourished during these ages, and many works of considerable learning were produced ; but such labours had no influence on the progress of a national, and especially a poetical literature, of the German people. While Hans Sachs, the writer of homely fables in verse, fairly represented the character of German poetry in the sixteenth century, the Elizabethan era of poetical genius was in its lustre in England. Shakspeare wrote his dramas only a few years after the death of Sachs. No fact can more strikingly show how far Germany remained behind England in the cultivation of poetry. If we turn our attention to prose- writers, the contrast is equally remarkable. Not long after Fischart wrote his satires, Richard Hooker wrote his 'Ecclesiastical Polity' and Lord Bacon produced his philosophical essays. In the seventeenth century we still find a contrast between the vigour of English and the feeble- ness of German literature. Martin Opitz, and the imitators who regarded him as the ' Horace of his times,' represented German poetrv during the age which produced such writers as Milton, Dryden, Barrow, arid Tillotson. XIII.] CHARACTERISTICS OF THE TIME. 167 CHAPTER XIII. SIXTH PERIOD. 1725-70. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE TIME LITERARY UNIONS THE SWISS- LEIPZIG CONTROVERSY GOTTSCHED BODMER BREITINGER THE FABLE-WRITERS HALLER HAGEDORN THE SAXON SCHOOL GLEIM AND HIS FRIENDS HYMN-WRITERS PROSE FICTION. THE times when WINCKELMANN, KLOPSXOCK, LESSING, and WIE- LAND wrote seem far removed from the days of Opitz. So great was the progress that had been made during the lifetime of Wolf (1679-1754), that centuries seemed to have passed away when Lessing appeared as the reformer of the literature of the German people. The title of reformer is, indeed, hardly high enough for Lessing. He gave to literature far more than improvements in form ; he breathed into it a new spirit and inspired it with a new will. It remains no longer imitative, but asserts its own cha- racter. No longer does it make a pile of learning for the sake of learning, but subordinates all studies to one that of life and progress. While maintaining its individuality, it becomes com- prehensive and sympathetic in its recognition of the world's literature. These ideas were expanded by later writers, but they belong especially to Gotthold Ephraim Lessing. He was the foremost man of his time, but he was also the child of the age. His work had been prepared for him, and to explain his success some circumstances of the times favourable to literary culture must be named. Among them we can hardly include any patron- age of literature by the . State. Several of the best authors who wrote during the forty-five years 1725-70 belonged to Prussia, and the great historical fact of the time was the marvellous growth of the political power of that State under its two great rulers Friedrich Wilhelm I. and his son ; but no direct connection can be traced between political and literary progress. The latter was 168 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITERATURE. [On. ignored by the Court of Berlin. Friedrich Wilhelm I., whose economy and prevision founded his country's power, scorned both philosophy and poetry, and classified literary men and professors with ' the foreign singers, dancers, and fiddlers,' for whom he entertained a hearty contempt. As before stated, he kept at his court one professor and historiographer, whom he treated as a buffoon. Friedrich II., a great king, and a man of power in both intellect and will, would not take the trouble to write his own language. In an ' Essay on German Literature,' which he wrote in French (1780), he mentioned neither Klopstock nor Lessing, and when an edition of the Nibelungenlied was presented to him, he declared it was ' not worth a shot,' and if found in his library, would have been swept out by his orders. Yet the King could bestow praise liberally, at times, for he styled an insignificant versifier Canitz ' The Pope of Germany.' In literature the King was as truly French as his friend Voltaire. The latter, writing at the Court of Berlin (1750), says : ' I am here still in France. We all talk in our own language, and men educated at Konigsberg know many of my poems by heart. German is left for soldiers and horses, and we have no need of it except when we are travelling.' The King's own tastes were represented in these words. Yet he indirectly aided the growth of a national literature ; for he infused his own energy into the character of his people, and gave them something to be proud of. Think as they might of his opinions, his tastes, and some parts of his policy, they were compelled to honour the man who regarded himself as ' the Servant of the State,' and ' who thought, lived, and died like a king.' The revival of national literature in the eighteenth century was a continuation of the work begun and carried on by Opitz, Tho- masius, Schupp, Leibnitz, and Wolf. Political and social circum- stances were more favourable to literary culture than they had been. Seventy-five years had passed since the close of the Thirty Years' War, and though the conditions of the Peace of West- phalia were unsatisfactory, with regard to their ultimate tendencies, the minds of men now enjoyed a comparative repose. The rancour of religious strife had considerably abated ; for the three con- fessions were placed on an equal footing with regard to their rela- tions with the State. Men, left without any great interest in general politics, and excluded from political power in the several XIII.] LITERAEY UNIONS. 169 minor States, found in literary culture the occupation and the free- dom which they could not elsewhere enjoy. Literary unions, with their journalism, correspondence, and controversies, supplied means of intercourse between students living in Saxony and Prussia ; while Switzerland was reunited with Germany by means of literature. The literary unions of the preceding century had not been al- together useless, for they had weeded French words out of German verse ; but poetry was still a copy made from a copy ; for its French models were imitations of the antique. One of the literary societies of the seventeenth century still survived at Leipzig, and GOTTSCHED, in 1727, gave it a new lease of existence, and partly changed its character for the better. About six years earlier BODMEK, a professor of history at Zurich, and his friend BREITINGER, a pastor there, had started a literary journal, chiefly with a view to an improved culture of poetry. This formed the nucleus of the Swiss School. A literary union existing at Halle, in 1734-37, had only two active members SAMTJEL LANGE and JAKOB PSTRA and when they left Halle ' the Society for the Culture of Poetry and Rhetoric ' seems to have suddenly dis- appeared. A more important association, however, was formed at Leipzig in 1744 by several young men, afterwards known as the Saxon School. They at first obeyed the rules stated by Gott- sched, but soon went over to the side of Bodmer. The latter had hardly any consistent theory of poetry; but he pleaded for a free exercise of the imagination, in opposition to Gottsched's tyrannical common sense, and preferred English to French poets. These two schools of Leipzig and Zurich were the highest authorities in poetry and criticism ; but other unions of literary men were soon formed especially at Berlin and Halberstadt. GLEIM, afterwards well known as the Maecenas of his times, formed, while he was a student at Halle, a coterie consisting at first of the trio GLEIM, Uz, and GOTZ ; and, when two other young poets KLEIST and RAMLER had entered this miniature union, it became known as 'the Prussian School.' Ramler went to reside in Berlin, where, with the aid of several friends, he founded a literary association, which included Lessing, Mendels- sohn, and Nicolai, the publisher of the ' Literary Letters/ to which Lessing contributed. Meanwhile GLEIM maintained a very extensive correspondence 170 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITERATUEE. [Cn. with his literary friends in all the schools, and, moreover, had in his own houses at Halberstadt a select college of young versifiers JACOBI, MICHAELIS, SCHMIDT, and HEIXSE all destined, as Father Gleim fondly believed, to become great poets in the course of time. These outlines of the history of several literary unions may serve to explain their relations with each other and their compa- rative importance. Their chief representatives may now be noticed. JOHANN CHRISTOPH GOTTSCHED, born in 1700, near Konigsberg, came to Leipzig in 1724, and there founded ' the German Society ' for the culture of a national literature. He began his work well, by criticism directed chiefly against the affectation aud bombast of the Second Silesian School. Having successfully ended this negative process, Gottsched proceeded to lay down strictlaws for the culti- vation of poetry. He maintained the three propositions : that poetry must be founded on an imitation of nature ; that the understanding must prevail over the imagination; and that the best models must be found in French literature. At this time several translations from English poetry had appeared, and Milton had many admirers in Germany. Among his admirers no one was so enthusiastic as JOHAXN JAKOB BODMER, born near Zurich in 1698, who trans- lated the 'Paradise Lost.' In an essay 'On the Marvellous in Poetry' (1740) he defended Milton from certain charges brought against him by Gottsched, and so began a controversy that served to give animation to criticism, and had other good results. It was in the midst of this controversy that the new literature of the eighteenth centuiy arose. For a time the critic of Leipzig had the advantage on his side, especially with regard to dramatic literature. Here he found two powerful allies to assist endeavours to preserve the stage from all innovations on French models. The first of his allies was a popular actress, named Caroline Xeuber, who refused to appear in any plays in which ' Jack Puddings,' or other low characters condemned by Gottsched, were introduced. The other ally was his wife, LXTISE VICTORIA GOTTSCHED, who had talents superior to any possessed by the dictator himself. She translated Pope's 'Rape of the Lock,' as well as several French dramas ; she was the author, too, of comedies and poems in her native tongue. Yet she was one of the best of household managers, and while she regulated her husband's domestic affairs XIII.] THE SWISS-LEIPZIG CONTROVERSY. 171 assisted him not a little in his literary labour. With these and inferior allies, Gottsched maintained well, for some time, his contest with the Swiss literary heretics; but his dominion wag overthrown at last by himself when, in the pride of his power, he went so far as to condemn Klopstock, then rising into popularity. The Leipzig critic declared that the Messias was a very irregular and worthless poem, and could not for a moment be compared with ' Hermann,' a new epic by CHRISTOPH OTTO SCHOKAICH ; but the public, as well as many critics, condemned the latter as intolerably dull and unreadable. In dramatic literature the critic found a formidable opponent in CHRISTIAN FELIX WEISE (1726-1 804),- who endeavoured to make innovations on the stage, especially by introducing light comic operas and melodramas, to supersede such heavy tragedies as Gottsehed's own 'Dying Cato.' The dic- tator was so seriously offended by the performance of one of Weise's operas ' The Devil is loose ' that he regarded it as a personal insult offered to himself. Nor was this the last of his sad reverses of fortune. Hia wife once his faithful literary assistant went over to the side of the innovators, and the popular actress, Caroline Neuber, having also joined the new party, was an accomplice in the shameful act of representing a caricature of the dictator himself on the Leipzig stage ! When' Gottsched was thus prostrated, everyone, of course, was ready to strike him. One ROST, the author of some licentious poems, wrote an abusive letter 'From the Devil to Gottsched ' and distributed copies so that, wherever the critic went, he found the odious epistle. ' Fallen from his high estate,' deprived of all his literary authority, derided by the actress who had once been his loyal subject, and worse than all censured by his wife, as if he had lived beyond his time, the great critic of Leipzig finally retired into deep shades. He had done good service in his day, if it was nothing more than putting down Lohenstein. This one fact ought to save Gottsched's name from contempt. His ' Critical Theory of Poetry ' (1730) says nothing true of poetry itself, but contains some good remarks on diction and versification. He was a reformer of the externals of literature, and was a respectable writer when contrasted with the leading men of the Second Silesian School. BODMER and his friends were like their enemy, Gottsched more successful on the negative than on the positive side, when they wrote on their own theory of poetry. They declared, truly, 172 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. that French models were not final, and that a contempt of Milton was no proof of a critic's good judgment ; but when they went on further, to assert their own theory of poetry, they were but a little less narrow than Gottsched. They agreed that poetry must be an imitation of nature must be, in fact, ' a kind of painting in words ' and that its purport must be useful. Still they con- tended that the wonderful, and even the impossible, must be admitted as elements of poetry. These two latter conditions might seem to be irreconcileable ; but they were found united in ./Esop's Fables, which were, indeed, ' marvellous ' in their in- cidents, but ' useful ' in their moral purport. Hence the ^Esopian fable must be estimated as holding a very high place in poetical literature. In obedience to this odd dictum of the Swiss critics, several men of respectable talents Gellert, Lichtwer, and Pfeffel wrote many fables in verse, and sincerely endeavoured to be instructive. CHRISTIAN FURCHTEGOTT GELLERT (1716-69), a very amiable man, had great success as a writer of fables, hymns, and a few other poems. His language was clear and correct, though popu- lar, and his didactic purport was always good ; but he had no high imaginative powers. The people accepted his writings with an enthusiastic approval, and their feelings were shared by the higher classes. Gellert, who was modest and retiring, found himself celebrated, while he was trying mostly to be useful. His fame must have been great, for it reached the Court of Berlin. Fried- rich II. sought an interview with the writer of popular fables, and was well pleased with his conversation. ' He is one of the most rational of German professors,' said the King. But the fabulist's admirers were found among men of all classes. A story is told of a peasant who brought to the poet's house a cart-load of fire- wood, as a thanksgiving for pleasure received in reading Gellert's fables. Good morals and piety were more noticeable than genius in Gellert ; but he had humour, and his piety was not narrow. In one of his fables a man afflicted with rheumatism endeavours to cure it by an odd charm, recommended by a superstitious woman : he must wash his hands in morning dew found on the grave of some good and holy man. Guided by fine epitaphs, the patient first tries dew from the grave of one ' who lived a perfect model of faith and good works,' and who died ' lamented by Church and State.' No cure follows, and the patient next tries an obscure XIII.] THE FABLE- WRITERS. 173 grave without a name. When his rheumatic pains have abated, he makes some enquiry respecting the tenant of the grave. ' Sir,' replies the sexton, ' they would hardly give him Christian burial. He was a heretic a writer of poems and comedies a good-for nothing.' It is obvious that the satire here intended is ambiguous; for either the piety of the saint or the virtue of the charm might be unreal. Another writer of fables, MAGNUS GOTTFRIED LICHTWEK (1719 83), followed the example of Gellert in making imagination sub- servient to didactic utility, and hardly more can be said in favour of ' the fables and poetical narratives ' written by GOTTFRIED KONRAD PFEFFEL (1736-1809), who was afflicted with a total loss of eyesight during the greater part of his long life. This was not allowed to interrupt his literary and other labours. He was a successful schoolmaster, and discharged faithfully the duties of several public offices. His satirical and didactic verses are very mild, excepting when he refers to the outbreak of the French Revolution, of which he always speaks bitterly. This will be excused when it is added that the Revolution compelled the blind man to shut up his school at Colmar in Elsass. The ex- ample of his industrious life is more valuable than all the morals appended to his fables. The writers of fables had more success than Bodmer either enjoyed or deserved, when he turned away from criticism and aesthetic controversy to write epics. It is enough to mention one, ' The Noachide,' which tells the story of Noah and the Deluge. Bodmer's attempted sublimity is sometimes ridiculous, as when he ascribes the flood to the collision of a watery comet with the earth. His best services to literature consisted in his opposition to Gottsched's bigotry, and in his attempts to revive the study of old German literature. He edited a part of the Nibelungmlied (1757) and a collection of Minnelieder (1758). These services attracted little attention until some years after his death, which took place in 1783. His friend JOHANNA JAKOB BREITINGER (1701-76) published, in 1740, 'A Critical Study of the Poetic Art,' written correctly, but too closely limited in its definition of poetry. The author was a respectable, well-educated man, less controversial than Bodmer and Gottsched, and oaring more for truth than for conquest. Some of his remarks especially those given near the close of his book go beyond his own theory. He 174 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. expresses doubts whether a mere descriptive piece in verse ought to be called a poem, and suggests that the true object of poetry narrative, lyrical, or dramatic should be to represent human life in all its diversities of characters and passions. The Swiss-Leipzig controversy served to awaken an interest in poetical literature, and called forth the high critical powers of Lessing. Both Klopstock and Wieland were partly indebted to Bodmer, who found delight in encouraging the development of talents greater than his own. Hence it is easy to trace a connec- tion between a controversy of which the details are now mostly forgotten and the rise of a new literature, of which Lessing was the founder. This fact alone gives importance to the names of Gottsched and Bodmer. Two verse-writers, who had hardly any interest in the contro- versy above noticed, wrote in the earlier part of this period, and con- tributed to the improvement of style that followed. AXBRECHX vox HALLEK (1708-77), an accomplished scholar, whose studies were mostly devoted to anatomy and physiology, wrote several odes, and other lyrical poems, characterised by dignity and thoughtfulness ; several didactic poems and satires, and a descriptive poem on ' The Alps ' (1732), which is one of the best of its class. That Haller did not admit the more advanced doctrine of Breitinger is shown in a didactic romance ' Fabius and Cato ' (1744) which is, in fact, a disquisition on the respective merit of several forms of government. In one of his odes ' An Address to Eternity ' he shows great vigour and dignity of language ; but the subject is abstract, and the sublimity of the thoughts is not of the highest order, if we except one line, noticed by HEGEL as better than all the rest. It is the last line of the following passage : Eternity ! o'er numbers vast, O'er millions upon millions cast And multiplied a thousandth time ; O'er worlds on worlds I still must climb, In vain, to reach the boundless thought ; For still I am no nearer brought ; The highest powers of numbers make no part Of thine infinitude : at last, I sweep them all away and there Thou art. A lighter and more graceful tone of lyrical poetry was introduced by FRIEDEJCH vox HAGEDQKX (1708-54), a native of Hamburg, who was for some time secretary to the Danish embassy in Lon- XIII.] THE SAXON SCHOOL. 175 don. The topics of his songs are wine, friendship, and prac- tical wisdom as understood by Horace. In his fables and his narrative poems Hagedorn partly followed Lafontaine and other French writers. But English authors were now taking the place of French, as models for imitative writers. ARNOLD EBERT (1723-95), who translated Young's ' Night Thoughts,' some of Richardson's novels, and Macpherson's ' Ossian,' helped to spread a literary epidemic styled 'Anglomania.' It is amusing to read that the 'Night Thoughts' of Young cherished, in Germany, a disposition to melancholy and sentimental verse-writing. Some good influence must be ascribed to translations from Milton, Pope, and Thomson. Pope's best work, ' The Rape of the Lock,' suggested some mock-heroic epics written by WILHELM ZACHARIA (1726-77), and Thomson's 'Seasons' encouraged several writers of descriptive poems. One of the best of these was EWALD CHRIS- TIAN VON KLEIST (1715-59), a major in the Prussian army, who fell in the campaign of 1758-59. His poem on ' Spring,' which was once remarkably popular, has partly an epic character, and is made interesting by the expression of true feelings arising from the writer's experience of the miseries of war. With the exception of Haller, Hagedorn, and Kleist, it will, perhaps, be sufficient to notice most of the minor poets of the period in groups, rather than individually ; for though not destitute of merit with regard to their diction, they had little distinctive genius. The schools, or coteries, to which they belonged were not imaginary not like ' the Lake School,' invented by reviewers who could not see the difference between Wordsworth and Southey. Members of German literary societies in the eighteenth century were really united, though not always formally. Versi- fiers of the Saxon School, for example, were mostly associated not only as members of the literary union founded by KARL GARTNER (1712-91), but also as students sent out from the best classical schools of Saxony the Furstenschulen, which had been endowed out of the revenues of several suppressed convents. A literary journal entitled Die Bremer Beitriiye was the organ of this Saxon School, which included among its members besides Gartner, Gellert, Zacharia, and Ebert, already named such men as ELIAS SCHLEGEL (1718-49), a dramatist, who was opposed to artificial rules ; his brother, ADOLF SCHLEGEL, the father of two sons whose names eclipsed his own ; CRAMER, a pastor, who wrote a 176 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATTJKE. [Cn. version of the Psalms ; KASTXEK, the satirist ; and the dramatists CEONEGK and AYREITHOFF. One of the more noticeable men of the Saxon School was GOTTLIEB RABENER (1714-71), a mild satirist, who was described by Goethe as a man of remarkable good humour. Rabener held an inferior office under government, and, during the siege of Dresden (1760), his house was burned down. In a letter to a friend he describes his own misfortunes thus : My servant came and informed me that my house was burned down, that part of my property had been destroyed by bombshells, and that the remaining portion had been plundered by soldiers who had been sent to quench the fire. Sad news ! All my property, furniture, clothing, books, manuscripts all the pleasant letters from yourself and other friends which J had preserved so carefully all destroyed ! Of property worth, as I counted it, some three thousand dollars, scarcely the value of ten dollars remaining ! My wardrobe is thus suddenly reduced to an old stuff frock and an obsolete peruke item, a bedgown ! All my witty manuscripts, which, as I once expected, would make such a sensation after my decease all turned to smoke ! Really, I have now no motive for dying, and shall therefore live as long and as well as I can ! In one instance, at least, Rabener's satire is well directed ; for it caricatures the tedious style of certain historical books. He gives a review of a supposed voluminous history of an obscure hamlet called ' Querlequitsch.' Its historian begins thus : ' If we carry back our researches to the beginning of the world, we shall find that it was at first inhabited by only one married couple, named respectively Adam and Eve.' He then goes on, with in- sufferable tediousness, through the history of the Chaldeans, the Assyrians, the Egyptians, the Jews, the Greeks, and the Romans not forgetting the Longobards and at last expresses his thankful- ness that he has found his way back to his subject, the obscure hamlet of Querlequitsch. The self-complacency, often characteristic of men of small capacity, is found nowhere more complete than in the versifying coterie over which ' Father Gleim ' presided at Halberstadt. JOHANN WILHELM GLEIM (1719-1803), a good-natured man and a bachelor in easy circumstances, kept in his own house a nursery for young poets. He first formed, as has been said, a little coterie at Halle, of which JOHANN PETEK Uz (1720-96) and JOHANN NIKOLATJS GOTZ (1721-81), were members both versifiers whose merits consisted mostly in their diction. The XIIL] GLEm AND HIS FRIENDS. 177 best of Gleim's own poems are his patriotic songs. He wrote, beside many lyrical pieces, a didactic poem ' Halladat,' or ' The Red Book.' ' From my early days,' says the author, ' I have had the thought of writing a book like the Bible.' (!) The result of this presumptuous design was a book full of common-places on virtue, and containing hardly one original thought. Gleim must be kindly remembered as a friend of literary men, though not as a poet. The society of small versifiers with, here and there, a man of higher powers cheered the bachelor's house at Halber- stadt, where, in one large room, he kept one hundred and eighteen portraits of relatives and literary friends. No great poet ever had, in this world, a life as happy as that of ' father Gleirn.' He never found faults in any poems written by his friends or dependents. All their works were beautiful ! He would patronise anybody who would write a few verses, either daily or weekly. One of the least fortunate of the objects of his patronage was AXXA LTJISE KAESCH, the daughter of a peasant. She married unhappily when she was sixteen years old, and her second husband was an intem- perate tailor, whose thirst consumed all that the poetess could earn by making verses. Having escaped from his tyranny, she went to Berlin and thence to Halberstadt, where [father Gleim assisted her in publishing her poems, which produced for her a little fortune of about three hundred pounds. This was soon consumed by her rapacious relatives, and then the poor woman made an application for help to the king. Friedrich II. gave her six shillings, which she contemptuously returned to him. His successor patronised the poetess, whose misfortunes had now gained for her a name at Berlin. A nobleman granted her a small annuity, and the king gave her a newly-built house. She was so delighted with this change of fortune, that she would not wait until the walls were dry, and, soon after taking possession of her new abode, she fell ill, and died in 1791. Her verses give some proofs of imaginative energy; but her genius was injured, rather than improved, by the patronage she received Father Gleim had a better reward for the services he rendered to two or three young poets, already named. JOHANX GEOKO JACOBI (1740-1814), wrote, at first, on very trivial themes, but made great improve- ment afterwards, when he imitated the style of a junior cotem- porary Goethe. The versification of Jacobi's lyrical poems is melodious. Another of Gleim's more successful friends was KARL 178 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUEE. [On. WILHELM RAMLER (1725-98), who chose Horace for his model, and wrote odes and other lyrical poems which were praised by Goethe. Ramler was, for some years, a teacher in the Cadets' School at Berlin, and there wrote odes to celebrate the military successes of the king, who, however, took no notice of the poet. These odes, and some other poems by Ramler have now but little interest apart from their versification. His imitations of antique metres were carefully studied, and served as models for Voss and other translators. Lessing sometimes submitted his own verses to Ramler's criticism. Several writers of odes and hymns, who were mostly imitators, may be left unnamed here. A translation of the Psalms by JOHANN ANDREAS CRAMER (1723-88), one of the members of the Saxon School, has greater merit than his original hymns. Other hymn-writers belonged mostly to two schools ; the didactic, in which Gellert's example prevailed, and the Pietistic, including the writers of hymns for the services of the United Brethren. A ten- dency to give prominence to natural theology is found in the hymns, as in the prose writings, of CHRISTOPH STURM (1740-80), a pastor at Hamburg, who might, perhaps, be classed with Klop- stock's imitators. His best work in prose, entitled ' Meditations on the Works of God ' (1779), was translated into English, and other languages, and enjoyed remarkable popularity. The most productive of all the Pietistic hymn- writers, was NIKOLAUS Lro- WIG, GRAF VON ZINZENDORF (1700-60), who founded the societies of the United Brethren, otherwise called Moravians. He gave to the Moravian brethren, who, to escape from persecution had left their native land, a settlement on his own estate, at a place afterwards called Herrnhut. Here he presided over his ' little church in the great church,' as he called it, which became a centre from which missionary companies went forth into many parts of the world. Many of the hymns written by Zinzendorf are marked by extreme simplicity ; others have a quasi-amatory character, of which the writer, in his later years, expressed his own disapprobation. Several other names of minor poets might be mentioned with- out serving to indicate any progress, either in thought or in diction. When we turn from verse to fictions written in prose, Wieland's romances are almost the only productions deserving notice. JOHANX TIMOTHETJS HERMES (1738-1821), an imitator XIII.] PROSE FICTION. 179 of Richardson, wrote the first German story ' Sophia's Journey giving descriptions of the life of the middle classes. In other respects the book is insignificant. SALOMON GESSNER (1730-86), a landscape-painter, endeavoured to do with his pen work that would have been better done with a brush. He found delight in writing descriptions, of which his stories mostly consist. His ' Death of Abel ' gained great popularity in England as well as in Germany. A short passage from one of his essays may indicate his style : If Heaven would fulfil the wish long cherished in my heart, I would escape into the country and live far away from towns. You should find me hidden from the world, and contented, in a little cottage embowered among hazels and other trees, with a trellised vine in the front, and a cool spring bubbling near my door. On the little grass-plot my doves would often alight and please me with their graceful movements, or receive from my hand the crumbs left on my table. There chanticleer too should proudlj- strut at the head of his family. And in a sheltered corner I would have my hives of bees, that the sweetness of my flowers might be treasured up, and that I might be often reminded that even in solitude I must be indus- trious. Behind the cottage you should find my garden for fruit and flowers, surrounded with a hedge of hazels, and with a bower at each corner. Here I would employ art, not to cut nature into grotesque forms, but gently to co-operate with her workings, and to unfold her beauty. Here would be my place in pleasant weather, where I could enjoy alternately exercise and meditation. Then imagine a little green pasture near the garden, and a gentle rill flowing beside my plantation, and spreading at one point in its course into a miniature lake, having an island and a pleasant bower in the middle ; and add to this rural inventory a little vineyard, and one little field of yellow corn ; and then what king would be richer than I ? It is only in accordance with the most popular definition of poetry, that several versifiers of the schools of Leipzig, Halle and Halberstadt can be called poets. Some diminutive, rather less abusive than poetaster, would be a better name for them. Having little or nothing to say, they often said it neatly; but too many of their poems were mere exercises in versification on worn topics and sentiments derived from French or English sources. All the forms of poetry were tried the lyrical, the epic, and the dramatic and some forms that should hardly be tolerated; such as didactic and prosaic treatises in verse, on such themes as ' The Irrigation of Meadows,' and 'The Rights of Reason.' Common- place is too often made the theme of lyrical poetry, of which the true element should be individuality; here we find, again and again, trite sayings on friendship, wine, and the beauties of N2 180 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. Nature, -with little true variety in all their variations. In narrative poetry many fables are good, as far as they go, and, having some meaning, are better than the idylls in which inane shepherds and shepherdesses appear. Pope's fine work of fancy, ' The Rape of the Lock,' made imitative mock-heroic poems fashionable for a time. Some improvements among them the use of iambic verse were introduced into the drama by Weisse, Nicolai, and one of the Schlegels, before the time when Lessing introduced a national drama. The rules of versification laid down by Opitz were mostly obeyed and partly extended, and in their search for variety of forms, versifiers attempted imitations of antique classical metres, and introduced a prosody partly founded on quantity. These services rendered to the culture of language are valuable ; but they cannot claim for imitative versi- fiers a place among the poets who have united artistic forms of expression with great thoughts or important actions and passions. XIV.] FREDERICK II. OF PRUSSIA. 181 CHAPTER XIV. SIXTH PERIOD. 1725-70. FREDERICK II. OF PRUSSIA HISTORIANS POPULAR PHILOSOPHERS RATIONALISTS "WRITERS ON .ESTHETICS WINCKELMANN. THE prose-writers of the reign of FRIEDKICH II. of Prussia had mostly something to say, while too many of their versifying cotemporaries were putting trifles into rhyme ; but few historians or publicists were found capable of writing worthily of such events as were then taking place. Many good essays on morals and on social life, were written by authors belonging to the school of popular philosophy, and, in the department of art- criticism, two of the most important works in the world's literature the 'History of Ancient Art,' and 'The Laokoon,' were written during this period. Moral philosophy and assthetics are the departments in which the best prose writings of the time are found. One of the more valuable historical works written in German, was a history of the petty state of Osnabriick a bishopric which ceased to exist in 1803. It seems strange that German historians and writers on politics wrote hardly anj'thing noticeable of the greatest events that had taken place since the Reformation. But literary men knew very little of the importance of such movements as the Silesian wars, and to find any worthy account of them we must refer to the king's own writings ; his ' Contributions to a History of Brandenburg,' the ' History of the Seven Years' War,' and the History of his own Times. These works, written by the great king and military commander, who saved Germany from destruction, are written in French ! They are, however, so far connected with national literature, that they may serve as some apology for the king's neglect of literary men. With such work as he had imposed upon him, he might, with good reason, 182 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. have neglected far greater men. While authors were discussing sesthetical questions, Austria and France one power as foreign as the other were plotting in order that ' the German body/ as they called it, might never have a soul ; or might never be guided by a head. Meanwhile, some of the petty princes as they might be styled, without regard to the areas of their domains were ready to sacrifice nationality to their meanest personal interests. It had been resolved, at Versailles and Vienna, that the power of Prussia must be first destroyed, and that then ' the body ' should be dissected, according to a plan of which all the details had been concerted. To give the highest sanction to the work of destroying Prussia and all Germany,- the warfare against FRIEDRICH II. was to be waged as a holy crusade against an infidel. It was to be a strictly religious war, and directed by immediate inspiration received from such an odd source as Madame de Pompadour ! When FRIEDRICH II. marched into Saxony to defeat this conspi- racy, he was acting strictly on the defensive and in favour of the establishment of peace. That ' he gave no aid to German literature,' has been made a grave topic of complaint ; but it may be added that, without the hard work of his life, neither the Ger- man people nor their literature would have had much to boast of in 1870. When compared with the king's writings, other historical and political works of his times have but a meagre interest. An ex- ception must be noticed, however, in the history of a petty state already named. JUSTUS MOSER, the author, was born at Osna- briick in 1720. He studied law at Gottingen, and practised, for some years, as an advocate, in his native place. For about twenty years after 1763, when the see of Osnabriick belonged to Friedrich, the infant son of George III. of England, Moser acted as prime minister in all the political affairs of the bishopric. His personal character was singularly well expressed in his stately figure, and Ids grave but amiable aspect. Literature for Moser was an im- plement to be used in the service of the state. His chief work, the ' Osnabriick History' (1765-80), is full of proofs of the writer's intelligence, research and patriotism. He seizes every opportunity of exposing the errors of centralization. The maxim of all maxims for Moser is that political institutions must grow up out of the history of a people. He will hear nothing in favour of abstract theories, or of governments made upon paper, and imposed XIV.] HISTOEIANS. 183 on a people by some external power. All such schemes he denounces again and again as mechanical and despotic, while he advocates self-government, carried out as far as possible, and based on history and old custom. Moser would have all laws developed from ancient facts. He often writes with genial humour and effective satire; for example in the essay against the use of money. ' Throw it into the sea,' he says, 'or give it to your enemies, as a means of punishing them. It can never be introduced into any state without bringing incalculable evils with it ! ' A reader who stops before he comes to the end of the essay, may imagine the writer to be a fanatic ; but Moser briefly explains his purport by saying ; ' such are the arguments that may be used by sophists against the principles of religion.' With reference to his moral aims, the range of his topics and the independent character impressed on every page of his writings, Justus Moser may be described as the model of a writer for the people. It is impossible to read many passages of the ' Osnabriick History,' or of the ' Patriotic Fantasies,' without understanding why Goethe spoke of Moser as ' an incomparable man.' The last- named of his works is a miscellany of articles published at first in a newspaper, and contains many short essays and tales mostly de- voted to utilitarian purposes. He was a decided enemy of all the French fashions which were gaining ground in his time, as may be seen in the outline of one of his stories. Selinde, the heroine, is an industrious German maiden, educated in the ancient homely fashion. Her evenings are passed in the spinning-room, where all her father's family and servants are assembled, while constant occupation leaves no room for such a word as ennui. But a young neighbour, Arist, who pays his addresses to Selinde, is an admirer of refinement and fashion, and loves to indulge in ridi- cule against the antiquated spinning-room. He marries Selinde, and improves her taste. The young couple become very fashion- able, neglect the concerns of their household, and endeavour to amuse themselves with meaningless trifles. But time passes now more tediously than in the spinning-room. Arist sees that his wife is unhappy, though she will not confess it. At last he confesses that there is more happiness in useful occupation than in frivolity. Selinde hears this confession with delight : the spinning-room is restored; and the old style triumphs over the new. 184 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEKATURE. [On. It is merely with respect for liis patriotic character that FRIEDRICH GAEL MOSER (1723-98), can be named here. He was a very industrious publicist, but the style of his works has no attractions. He would insert anything in any place, and in this way he rambled through more than a hundred books and pamphlets on such topics as 'German Nationality,' ' Political Truths,' and 'Master and Servant.' Moser, whose knowledge of courts was partly founded on his own observations, described a cotemporary political writer, as ' the good, gentle, amiable, republican ISELIN, who knows princes only by engravings of their portraits.' This is one of the livelier examples of Moser's satirical vein. The histo- rical writer thus censured, ISAAC ISELIN (1728-82), wrote a series of ' Conjectures on the History of Mankind,' and a ' Discourse on Patriotism,' which have been commended as indicating a philoso- phical treatment of history, such as was afterwards suggested and partly carried out by Herder. Iselin was not afraid of extensive problems ; for he attempted to explain the true causes of the decline of Greek and Roman civilisation. His argument may be called tautological ; for he tells us little more than that ancient civilisation was not permanent because it was not founded on permanent virtues. Several prose-writers who wrote on history and politics in these times, were associated by their common tendency towards utilitarian doctrines. THOMAS ABBT (1738-66), especially de- manded that all literature should be devoted to utility. ' Write for the people/ was his rule, and it was obeyed by JOHASTX HIR- ZEL (1725-1803), who wrote a book entitled ' The Economy of a Philosophical Peasant,' partly founded on the true personal his- tory of a Bauer, or small farmer, of whom the writer made a rural Socrates. Though his writings were partly historical, HIR/EL might be classed with the so-called ' popular philosophers ' of his times. They were mostly men of talent, without genius, who wrote with clearness and sobriety, and generally with some useful purport. Their views on religion and on the foundations of morals, were generally such as at a rather later time were called rationalistic ; but they hardly understood ail the results of their own principles. In this respect they were like the earlier rationalists of the eighteenth century. One of the best of the popular philosophers was MOSES MENDELS- SOHN (1729-80), an Israelite, already named as Lessing's friend. XIV.] POPULAR PHILOSOPHERS. 185 He wrote several didactic works, including ' Phaedon,' a dialogue on the immortality of the soul, which was partly a free translation from Plato, but gave some expansion to the original argument. When Lavater, the Pietist, rudely endeavoured to convert Mendels- sohn to Christianity, there were not a few who suspected that the Israelite was capable of giving lessons on true religion to Lavater. The author of ' Phaedon ' contended, that the highest utility must be found in moral philosophy. ' I cannot read/ he says, ' without pity the opinion of a French writer that " the efforts of Reaumur to preserve carpets and tapestry from the ravages of moths, were more worthy of admiration than all the moral speculations of Leibnitz ! " Is not this saying that the vain luxuries of our houses are of more importance than our own souls, or even than the honour of the Divine character, which may be misrepresented by a false philosophy ? On the other side, 1 would assert that, even if the alchymists had succeeded in their efforts, and had turned every stone on the earth's surface into gold, they would have made an absurd mistake if they had regarded such a feat as the completion and final triumph of philosophy.' CHRISTIAN GAKVE (1742-98), another of the popular philoso- phers, was, with regard to his style, one of the best of all the prose-writers of the eighteenth century. He wrote mostly short essays on morals and on literary culture especially on style and was employed by FEIEDRICH II. to translate Cicero's treatise on the ' Duties of Life.' The king gave some suggestions for the annotations appended to the work, and bestowed on Garve a small pension of two hundred dollars. Garve was remarkable for the patience with which he endured a long affliction, and for his modesty. With reference to Kant's writings, he said ; ' I do not find myself at home in the higher regions of philosophy ; I must have some practical object in view.' He would write only on such subjects as he could clearly understand. In a pleasant essay on the ' Scenery of Mountainous Countries,' he says nothing of Kant's new aesthetic doctrines ; nothing of the sublime effect of vast physical objects in exciting a consciousness of ' a moral power stronger than all nature.' One of the chief causes of the impressive character of mountain scenery, says Garve, is that we see more objects on the side of a mountain than could be seen on a plain of the same extent. One of the best rivals of Garve, in the use of a clear and popular 186 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. style, was JAKOB ENGEL (1741-1802), the author of ' Lorenz Stark,' a domestic novel, and of other stories, all intended to con- vey moral instruction. He published, in 1775-77, his ' Philosopher for the World/ a series of essays, sketches and stories, to which Mendelssohn, Garve, and Eberhard contributed. Though the dates of his works extend a few years beyond 1770, Engel be- longed to the school of popular philosophers, and ably represented their practical purport, their sobriety, and their self-complacency. Engel's prose rises to an eloquent strain in his Eulogium of Friedrich II. It is rather difficult to define the school of popular philosophy ; for it might include such theologians as GEORG JOACHIM ZOLLIKO- FER (1730-88),anexcellentpreacher and writer on practical religion; JOHANN EBERHARD (1739-1809), who, in his ' Apology of So- crates ' (1772), opposed the doctrine that the souls of heathen men must be excluded from heaven ; and JOHAKN SPALDING (1714-1804), who might be also classed with the earlier rational- ists, as he wrote against Pietism and described ethics as the basis of religion. GELLERT, already noticed as a poet, wrote in a popu- lar style on moral philosophy, and may therefore be named here. Another author, sometimes classed with this school, JOHANN ZIMMERMANN (1728-95), was a physician at the court of Hanover. He gained his popularity by a book ' On Solitude,' and disgraced himself by writing to display his own egotism and vanity under a pretence of giving some account of the last days of Friedrich II. of Prussia. Zimmermann was one of the physicians in attendance on the king, during his last illness, and seized the opportunity of making a bad book ! Such men as Zimmermann and Lavater could know nothing of the king's latest thoughts. He has been com- monly described as an atheist ; but some expressions found in his later letters might support the assertion, that his belief respecting a First Cause was not altogether unlike Kant's doctrine ; Where reason fails, the voice of conscience alone must be accepted as a revelation. The assertion of the rights of free inquiry and the rise of the earlier rationalistic theology of these times can hardly be described as taking place in any well-defined period. They had been pre- ceded by the study of French and English writings on natural religion (so-called) when HERMANN- SAMUEL REIMARTJS (1694- 1768), author of ' The Wolfenbiittel Fragments/ edited by Les- XIV.] EATIONALISTS. 187 sing, wrote (1754) his 'Principles of Natural Keligion,' which waa followed, in 17GO, by a more interesting work on ' The Instincts of Animals.' In the latter, he reasons in favour of the immor- tality of the soul, and evidently places great trust in his arguments founded on analogy. Having noticed a harmony between the instincts of animals and their destinies, he continues thus ; It is as natural in us to look forward beyond this world, as it is in the lower animals to remain satisfied with their present life. Their nature is confined within certain bounds ; our own is distinguished by its capacity of continual development ; and a desire for such development has been planted in us by our Creator. Xow where do we find instincts falsified in the plan of nature ? Where do we see an instance of a creature endowed with an instinct craving a certain kind of food in a world where no such food can be found ? Are the swallows deceived by their instinct when they fly away from clouds and storms to find a warmer country? Do they not find a milder climate beyond the water? When the May-flies and other aquatic insects leave their husks, expand their wings, and soar from the water into the air, do they not find an atmosphere fitted to sustain them in a new stage of life ? Certainly. The voice of nature does not utter false prophecies. It is the call, the invitation of the Creator addressed to his creatures. And if this is true with regard to the impulses of physical life, why should it not be true with regard to the superior instincts of the human soul ? Confidence in such reasonings as are expressed in the above paragraphs was a characteristic of both the popular philosophers and the rationalists of the eighteenth century. For them history, or any other external authority, could hardly be more than an echo of a verdict pronounced by reason. They were not altogether negative in their aims ; the tenets which they held as true such as the existence of God and the immortality of the soul were held firmly, while the arguments used to support them were mostly dogmatic. Several of their expositions of natural theology were shallow and optimistic ; they neither looked on the dark side of nature, nor tested the logic on which their physico-theo- logical arguments were founded. That such a thinker as KANT might come, some day, and demolish their proofs for the three chief tenets of natural religion was a possibility hardly dreamed of by the earlier rationalists. Their general negative tendency was to reject, or to explain away, all statements of miraculous events, and their attempts to explain, rather than reject, such statements were, in several instances, ridiculous in the extreme. In their zeal for enlightenment, they separated light from warmth, 188 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEEATUKE. [Cn. and their cold intellectual and ethical system devised as a sub- stitute for religion excluded both feeling and imagination. The common intuitions found in the highest poetry, as well as in the superstitions of all peoples, were treated as empty fictions. Philosophical speculation was ridiculed if it contained anything better than commonplace. Truth that did not seem obvious to NICOLAI, the enlightened bookseller at Berlin, or to DR. BAHKDT (1741-92), was set at nought. These and other charges may be justly preferred against several of the more negative writers on theology. But the earlier ration- alists must, by no means, be described as writers who strictly belonged to one school. The last-named author stood almost alone as an indecent, burlesque polemic. It was with reference to men who only remotely resembled Bahrdt, that Lessing said of Berlin, ' all the liberty you enjoy there is that of publishing stupid -jokes against religion.' This may suffice to indicate the fact, that there was an upper and a lower school of rationalism. To the former belonged such men as WILHELM ABRAHAM TELLER (1734-1804), who published, in 1764, a 'Manual of Kational Christianity,' and another representative of the upper school might be found in JOHANN FRIEDRICH JERUSALEM (1709-89), a man of high culture and one of the best preachers of his time. The affliction by which his old age was overshadowed his son's suicide gave rise to the publication of Goethe's ' Sorrows of Werther.' Apart from their negative criticism and from their special tenets, the more thoughtful men among the earlier rationalists kept in view, more or less distinctly, a common object. It was to assert, that the essentials of practical religion may be distinguished from all the traditional forms through which they have been conveyed, and may be maintained and promulgated without any aid derived from a systematic orthodoxy, or from an infallible church. In Ecclesiastical history a very extensive work was partly issued in this period ' The History of the Christian Church,' by JOHANN MATTHIAS SCHROCKH (1733-1808). The whole work, in thirty- five volumes, was completed in 1803. The name of JonAJfN LOKENZ MOSHEIM (1694-1755), reminds us that, in his times, the old prejudices of learned men against the use of their native tongue had not disappeared. He was an excellent preacher, and could write well in German ; but his chief work a ' History of the Christian Church ' was written in Latin. In the same XIV.] WRITERS OX ESTHETICS. 189 language JAKOB BRUCKER (1606-1770), wrote 'A Critical History of Philosophy,' which is chiefly remarkable for the extent of its erudition. It appeared in an English translation by Enfield in 1791. The historical and didactic works already noticed are mostly characterised by the reformatory tendency of the times. A dis- content with the past, like that then growing formidable in France, existed also in Germany, near the close of the eighteenth century, but here found more subdued forms of utterance in at- tempts to renovate the style of German Literature. Of all these endeavours the most sucessful, on the whole, are found in works belonging to the department of Esthetics, including, the theory and the criticism of poetry and art. One of the earliest critics of the eighteenth century, CHRISTIAN LTTDWIG Liscow (1701-60), wrote satires on several of the obscure writers of his times. His own prose-style was pure and vigorous. The objects of aesthetic studies were defined in a Latin treatise entitled ' ^Esthetica ' (1750), written by ALEXANDER GOTTLIEB BATJMGARTEN (1714- 62). His disciple FRIEDRICH MEIER (1718-77), wrote, about the same time, a German treatise on ' The First Principles of the Fine Arts.' Several years later, JOHANN GEORG STJLZER (1720-79), published ' A Theory of the Fine Arts ; ' but made hardly any innovation on the doctrines already asserted by Bodmer and his friend Breitinger. These theoretical works were mostly both formal and arbitrary. Their theory did not include any true analysis of the best works of art, and their rules were not derived from any extensive survey of art and literature. Lessing's writings must be noticed apart from those of the minor critics above named ; but his friend CnRLSTOPH FRIEDRICH NICOLAI (1733-1811), may be classed with minor writers on ^Esthetics. In the capacity of a bookseller and as the friend of Lessing, Nicolai rendered to literature services far more important than any to be found in his own writings. His ' Library of Belles Lettres ' (1757), the ' Literary Letters,' to which Lessing contri- buted (1759-66), and the new ' General German Library,' ex- tending to fifty-six volumes all contributed to the literary pro- gress made in his times ; but in his own books, Nicolai made him- self ridiculous as an intolerant and shallow declaimer against philosophy. He wrote scornfully of everything that he could not easily understand Kant's works for example and set up his own 190 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [On. notions as the final standard of common sense. It must be allowed that he did not write severely without some provocation, caused by the literary revolution that took place during his later years. When ' The Sorrows of "Werther ' had appeared and had spread a sentimental epidemic, the sarcastic bookseller issued his ' Joys of Werther ' not to ridicule Goethe, but to suggest a cure for the monomania of the times. It was Nicolai's misfortune that he lived beyond his own period into the times when wild young poets, with Goethe at their head, were asserting unheard-of claims to original genius. To ridicule their extravagance, Nicolai wrote his absurd ' Story of a Fat Man.' His best work, the description of f A Journey through Germany and Switzerland,' contains his own opinions on literature and politics. In his Sebaldus Nothariker (1773-76), he wrote mostly against orthodoxy and Pietism. On the whole. Nicolai was fairly described as a shallow burlesque or caricature of Lessing. At the close of the eighteenth and in the opening of the nineteenth century, when such men as Hamann, Herder, and Goethe were looking onwards for the dawn of a new epoch, a critic like the Berlin Bookseller was as obsolete as an old fossil. His extinction was not so sudden as that of Gottsched, the great Leipzig critic ; but it was equally complete. None of the critics above named always excepting Lessing had either the genius or the learning required for -writing on the theory of Art and Poetry. Their definitions and their criticisms were formal, narrow and arbitrary, and they judged works of genius before they had learned to read them. But there was living in their times, an obscure man who, while struggling with extreme poverty, was preparing himself to establish a new school of aesthetic criticism ; nay, to do far more than that to give life to the dry bones that had been labelled ' archaeology ' and ' philo- logy.' He wrote, at first, of ancient sculptures ; but his works introduced a new epoch in {esthetic theory and criticism, and have still a living interest in connection with the study of philology. JOHANN JOACHIM WINCKELMANN, the son of a poor shoemaker, was born at Stendal in the Altmark in 1717. He educated him- self, in the midst of great privations and hardships, and, during his youth, could scarcely gain the means of subsistence. When thirty-one years old, he was engaged as secretary and assistant librarian at Dresden, where the treasures of the Art Gallery aided his studies, but did not satisfy his desire to explore the history of XIV.] WINCKELMANN. 191 ancient art. This was the one great object of his ambition, and he was ready to make almost any sacrifice in order to attain it. For him Rome was the centre of the world, because the richest stores of art were there collected. Willing not only to leave home but to for- sake the fatherland where he had suffered so much privation, he en- deavoured to gain an appointment as librarian to Cardinal Pas- sionei, the owner of the most extensive private library in Rome. One condition indispensable for his success was that Winckelmann should change his creed. It may be fairly doubted, whether he ever had any creed, except his firm belief in the beauty of ancient Greek sculptures. He had been formally a Protestant, but his friends had commonly regarded him as a free-thinker. However, after some years of hesitation and v with a heavy heart ' (as he said), he fulfilled the condition, went over to the Roman Church, and made himself an Italian, in order that he might study ancient works of art. By this conversion he gained the patronage of the great cardinal, Alexander Albani, one of the wealthiest collectors of works of art in Rome, who was then busy in enriching the galleries of his fine villa at Porta Salara. Winckelmann lived in the cardinal's palace, and was treated as a friend ; but received no great salary. He, however, had abundant leisure for collecting materials for his great work on ancient art. In 1763 he was appointed prefect of antiquities and, in this capacity, he often acted as Cicerone to distinguished visitors in Rome. His learning had widely extended his reputation among Italian and German students of archaeology, and he received many invitations to visit friends in the cold northern clime where he had suffered so many hardships in his youth. He hesitated; but at last, was seized with a longing to see his native land once more. Accordingly he left Rome in 1768 and, accompanied by an Italian sculptor named Cavaceppi, travelled towards the north. When they reached the Tyrolese mountains, Winckelmann seemed oppressed by melan- choly forebodings, and expressed his earnest desire to return to Italy. With difficulty he was induced to continue his journey. He seemed to be, for a time, almost deprived of reason and possessed by one fixed thought, that he must return to Rome. When further persuasion was found useless, his fellow-traveller left him in Vienna where he was introduced to the Empress Maria Theresia, from whom he received a present in gold coins of con- siderable value. He then travelled towards Trieste, intending to 192 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. embark there for Venice. On his way to Trieste, as some accounts say, or in an hotel there, he became acquainted with an Italian convict named Arcangeli recently discharged from a prison. The cupidity of this miscreant was excited, it seems, by a sight of the gold coins brought from Vienna. On June 8, 1768, Winckel- mann, stabbed in five places, was found dying in his chamber. The criminal, Arcangeli, was so soon detected that he failed to carry off his booty. He was executed a fortnight afterwards. Winckelmann's first work, his ' Thoughts on the Imitation of Grecian Paintings and Sculptures ' (1755), contained the germs of the ideas that were at last developed in his ' History of Ancient Art,' written during his residence in Rome and printed at Dresden in 1764. Its publication was the beginning of a new epoch in the history and criticism of ancient art. The work soon acquired a European reputation, and was accepted as a theory as well as a history of Grecian sculpture. Its erudition and its graceful style were generally admired, and its disquisitions on the union of an- cient art with social, political, and religious institutions, suggested a new style of treating general archaeology. The treatise is divided into four sections, of which the first is introductory and explains several circumstances that were favourable to the culture of Grecian art. Its essential characteristics are described in the second part, and its growth and decline in the third. The fourth section is devoted to the mechanism of art, and is followed by an account of ancient painting. Among external causes of the excel- lence of Greek artists, the influence of a fine climate is noticed ; but more attention is bestowed on the moral and intellectual qualities of the Hellenic people and on their forms of government. "Winckelmann was an enthusiast in his admiration of the ancient Greeks, and, in describing their character and their institutions, he hardly throws any shade into the picture. He tells, with apparent delight, how they harmonised their physical with their mental culture ; how every noble power was developed in their system of education and especially in their public festivals ; how men of genius contended for the palm in athletic exercises, and knew nothing of that contempt of physical life which was intro- duced in monastic times. Plato was once a wrestler in the Isthmian games ; Pythagoras gained a prize at Elis, and acted as the trainer of Eurymenes; homage was paid to the statue of Euthymus, one of the greatest of all the victors at Elis j the XIV.] ANCIENT AKT. 193 faculties of men were not confined by minute divisions of labour; a sculptor might rise to command an army ; the emperor Marcus Aurelius received lessons in moral philosophy from a painter ; these are some of the facts of which the historian of ancient art writes with enthusiasm. The following brief passages may serve to suggest some contrasts between ancient and modern times : One great consequence of the general appreciation of beauty among the Greeks, was that the artist was not condemned to work to gratify the pride, vanity, or caprice of anyone noble patron; but was supported and en- couraged in the efforts of genius by the general voice of the people. And this people was not a rude, untaught democracy, but was under the direc- tion of the wisest minds. The honours which were awarded by public as- semblies to competitors in art, were in general fairly and intelligently distributed. In the time of Phidias, there was at Corinth, as also at Delphi, a public exhibition of paintings, over which the most competent judges presided. Here Panaenus, the relative of Phidias, contended for a prize with Timagoras of Chalcis, when the latter proved victorious. Before such competent adjudicators Aetion produced his painting of 'Alexander's Marriage with Roxana,' and Proxenides, the judge who pronounced the decision, was so well pleased with the work, that he gave his daughter in marriage to the painter. Universal fame did not unfairly prevail over rising merit. At Samos, in the exhibition, of several paintings of the ' Weapons of Achilles,' the renowned Parrhasius was defeated by a com- petitor named Timanthes. . . . Art was chiefly devoted to its highest objects the exposition of religious ideas, or of the nobler developments of human life and did not stoop to make trivial playthings, or to furnish the private houses of rich men with ostentatious luxuries ; for rich citizens in the best days of Athens lived in houses modestly and sparingly furnished, while they subscribed munificently to raise costly and beautiful statues in the public temples. Miltiades, Themistocles, Aristides, and Cimon, the chieftains and deliverers of their country, did not distinguish themselves from their fellow-citizens by dwell- ing in grand and expensive houses. TVinckelmann's theory of ancient Greek sculpture is ideal. He maintains that the artist studied the intention as well as the individual expressions of nature, and that his aim was to make all real forms and actions subordinate to a general idea of beauty. Thus the critic explains the repose and the simplicity of the finest ancient sculptures; their flowing line of contour, to which all minor features are made subservient, and their quiet dignity when action is represented. The effects of Winckelmann's theory and criticism have not been confined to the department of sculpture. He gave a new life to the study of archaeology. Some of the best thoughts in Lessing's essay, ' The Laokoon,' were suggested by the first o 194 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cu. historian of art. His observations on the union of art with the social institutions of ancient Greece are partly applicable to literature, as well as to art, and suggest an ideal towards which modern culture should direct its endeavours. Grecian literature was a literature of life : it was intimately blended with the life, the progress, the actual interests of the people. Poets sung, and historians wrote, as sculptors and painters worked, not for a few students, but for the people. Even the highest philosophy as ex- pounded by Plato, was not purely abstract ; but was interwoven with human sympathies and social interests. The physical and the intellectual powers of human nature were harmoniously culti- vated. The man, in his full and complete definition, was not sacrificed in order to make a poet, or a musician, or an historian ; but poetry, philosophy, history, and all the fine arts were em- ployed to produce the most complete and beautiful development of human nature. This was the aim which prevailed through the whole of Grecian culture ; and it is a noble object to restore such a purpose to modern cultivation. The writings of Klopstock, Lessing and Wieland unite the lite- rature of the eighteenth with that of the nineteenth century. KLOP- STOCK expressed one great idea ; that of a union of Christianity with a national poetry, and if he failed to realise it, the failure was nobler than any commonplace success. LESSING developed the ideal of a national literature, founded on a union of poetry and speculation, and expressed in artistic forms. WIELAND, by the variety of his subjects and the clearness and fluency of his diction, distinguished himself from the crowd of minor authors who lived in his times. His success, in extending among the higher classes of society especially in the south of Germany a taste for imagi- native literature, gives to his writings some historical importance. It is only with a regard to the extent of their power and influence, that Klopstock, Lessing and Wieland, are classed together in the next chapter. XV.] KLOPSTOCK. 195 CHAPTER XV. SIXTH PERIOD. 1725-1770. KLOPSTOCK LESSING WEBIAND. FRIEDEICH GOTTLIEB RLOPSTOCK, born at Quedlinburg in 1724, studied at Schulpforte (one of the best classical schools in Saxony), where he read not only Greek and Roman authors, but also Tasso and Milton. In 1745 he went to Jena to complete his edu- cation, and there made a sketch in prose of some part of his epic, ' The Messias.' In the course of the next year he went to Leipzig, where he enjoyed the friendship of several of the contributors to . the Bremer Beitrage* In 1748 there appeared in that literary journal the first three cantos of ' The Messias,' a poem in hexa- meter verse. The author's name was not given ; but it was soon known. Bodmer, the Swiss critic, hailed the work, as a realisa- tion of his own notions of what poetry ought to be, and invited the writer to come and stay at Zurich. After staving some months in Switzerland, Klopstock was looking out for a situation as a teacher, when he received a small pension from Friedrich V. king of Denmark, and went to live at Copenhagen, with nothing to do there but to complete his epic. On his journey, he stayed a few days at Hamburg, and there b.ecame acquainted with Meta Moller, a young woman of considerable literary attainments, whom he soon afterwards married. Their union was remarkably happy, and her death, in 1758, was the greatest sorrow in all the expe- rience of Klopstock. His pension helped him to live free from cares and to devote his thoughts to poetry ; yet his progress in writing the twenty-one cantos of his epic was very slow. He began his work when he was only twenty-one years old, but did not finish it until he was forty-six. The fourth and fifth cantos appeared in 1751 ; six more were published after an interval of seven years and the last five cantos were coldly received by the o2 196 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [Cn. public in 1773. It had become more and more apparent, that the author had written without a preconceived plan. The sufferings and the death of the Messias occupied hardly more than half the work, and in this part a want of continuous narrative interest was ill supplied by long speeches and conversations. The author gained a European reputation ; but his poem was not read as a whole. Goethe tells us, that one of his father's friends used to read through the first ten cantos of ' The Messias ' once in every year, in the week preceding Easter ; but the wonder is lessened when it is known that he read hardly any other author, and could therefore concentrate his attention and patience in that week. Moreover, these ten cantos are the best half of the epic. In 1792 Klopstock married a widow lady, who had long been numbered among his best friends. His later years were passed in comfortable retirement at Hamburg where he died in 1803. He was buried, with an imposing ceremonial, under a fine linden tree, and close to the remains of his first wife' Meta ' in the village .churchyard of Ottensen, near Altona. No German poet had ever before received such funeral honours. All the bells of Hamburg and Altona were tolling, and 126 carriages followed the hearse. A second Shakspere would hardly now receive like honours. His piety and virtue, as well as his genius and heart-felt enthusiasm, conspired with the circumstances of his times to cast a halo round the name of Klopstock. He was like a star, bright in itself, and having the advantage of rising in the darkest hour before daybreak. True ; German poetry had already greatly im- proved in style, but it wanted significance, and Klopstock came to make it at once national and Christian, as well as to give more variety to its forms. From his youth he had felt confidence in his own genius ; hence his . bold choice of so high a theme as ' The Messias.' His ambition seems to have had an elevating effect on his own character, for he generally maintained a dignity becoming the author of an epic on the greatest of all possible themes ; yet he was neither a severe pedant nor an ascetic. His work was the result of true enthusiasm ; its prevailing spirit was religious, and had a deep effect on the character of German literature. In his employment of hexameter verse Klopstock developed the resources of the German language, especially with regard to its middle quantities and its secondary accents, and he must be named with Rainier as having introduced a new style for XV.] KLOPSTOCK. 197 translations and imitations of Greek and Roman poets. But the genius of Klopstock was lyrical and not epic. Neither the men nor the angels whom he introduces in the ' Messias/ have any true individuality, and, to supply their want of action, they talk, argue and indulge in long monologues, yet without telling any- thing of their own characters. Some of the best parts of the poem or rather the series of poems are found in descriptions and similes, but these, too often, have a life of their own, and are not duly subordinated to the general narration. For example, it is said that Satan, when he comes to tempt Judas, approaches like a pes- tilence : So at the midnight hour a fatal plague Comes down on cities lying all asleep ; Their people are at rest ; though, here and there, A student reads beside his burning lamp And, here and there, where ruddy wine is glowing, Good friends are waking ; some in shadowy bowers, Talk of their hopes of an immortal life None dreaming of a coming day of grief When brides, too soon made widows, will be wailing And mothers weeping over orphan babes Here the simile is so far extended that both Judas and Satan are forgotten. In many passages that might be selected from the earlier cantos, descriptive sketches, and similes occur, remarkable for power and originality of conception. Judas is tempted by a spirit who, appearing to him in a dream, presents to him a vision of some fair earthly domains to be divided among the chief followers of the ' Messias.' Then the portion of land allotted to the traitor is described as A narrow desolate tract of hills and crags, Wild and unpeopled, overgrown with briars ; Night, veiled in chilly ever-weeping clouds, Hangs o'er the land, and in its barren clefts The drifted snows of winter linger long ; There birds of night, condemned for aye to share That solitude with thee, flit through the gloom And wail among the trees by thunders riven. That desert, Judas, is to be thine own ! When the traitor has conceived his plan, and has resolved to execute it, the triumph of his tempter is thus described : With a silent pride, Satan looked down upon him. O'er the flood 198 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. So towers some dreadful cliff, and from the clouds, Looks down upon the waves, all strewn with wrecks And corpses. But if isolated passages of interesting narrative or impassioned conversation were far more numerous than they are, they could not make the 'Messias,' viewed in its completeness as an epic poem worthy of its theme. Klopstock failed where every poet must fail. Poetic genius is one of the highest powers of the mind ; tut it is not the highest. No imagination, however exalted and powerful, can do justice to such a theme as was chosen by Klop- stock. For poetical uses better materials may be found in histo- ries of comparatively trivial purport. When viewed historically and externally, the evangelical narrative is a story of rather more than a year spent in travelling and preaching on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Then follow persecutions directed by the doctors of the Church ; the people at one time hail, at another forsake their Messias ; he is falsely accused of insurrection, is delivered into the power of the Romans, and is put to death. A poet must be very presumptuous, if he changes any of these facts, and what can he add to them that will not seem out of place ? The external facts are too scanty for a poet's use ; but the thought expressed iu them transcends all powers of imagination. Profound humilia- tion, united with a calm assertion of boundless authority and power ; predictions that might seem to have been suggested by a dream fulfilling themselves in the world ; then kingdoms, religions, philosophies, fading away, and the events of nineteen centuries serving to fulfil such prophecies ; here are wonders that can never be made more marvellous or more interesting by any array of mythological imagery. They transcend the resources of poetry. Klopstock's genius was lyrical, and his best poems are found in his odes and hymns ; epecially in those written in his earlier years, or before he allowed his study of antique metres to lead him too far in the use of inversions of the common order of words and sentences. In several of his later odes, written in Sapphic, Alcaic, and other ancient classic metres, his style is involved and obscure. The best odes defy translation ; for their poetical value depends, in a great measure, on their form. The elegies and several of the odes addressed to friends are too sentimental ; but this was the prevailing fault of many writers of the poet's time. They tell us far too much of their sighs and of their ' weeping eyes,' which XV.] KLOPSTOCK. 199 seem to hare been ready for use on all occasions, however insigni- ficant. Klopstock's dramas deserve notice chiefly on account of his good intentions. He wished to introduce a national German drama, to take the place of imitations, and, as he would not accept Friedrich II. for a hero, he went back into the cloudy times of remote German antiquity, selected Hermann as a hero, and en- deavoured to make the old Northern serve instead of Greek mythology. Confusing the fictions of Macpherson's ' Ossian ' with the statements of Tacitus, Klopstock began to talk about an an- cient guild of ' bards ' who never existed, and this fancy gave rise to several odd rhapsodies written by the modern bards j KARL FRIEDRICH KRETSCHMANN (1738-1809), and JOHANN MICHAEL DENIS (1729-1800). The former, who styled himself l The bard Rhingulph,' wrote a ridiculous treatise on ' The Poetry of the Bards.' He seems to have been well acquainted with them ; but where he found facts to support his bold assertions remains still a profound secret. His friend DENIS, a Jesuit, but a zealous admirer of Klopstock, was a patriotic man as well as ' a bard,' and rendered valuable services to the culture of national literature in Austria. He was a librarian at Vienna, and was allowed to retain his place after the suppression of his order. When his friends ex- pressed their surprise that a Jesuit could be the friend of the Pro- testant Klopstock, Denis replied to the effect, that he could see nothing remarkable in the fact. These ' bards,' as they called themselves, were not the true followers of Klopstock. To estimate the influence of his life and his writings, we must study the literature of times later than his own. His epic ceased to be read j but his patriotic feelings and his Christian sentiments remained operative. The poet's own life agreed well with his belief, that the practice of a literary man should harmonise with his teaching. He endeavoured to abolish the notion of treating poetry as a plaything. Though his attempts to introduce an old national hero and the old. German mythology failed, they afforded proofs of his independence and his patriotism. No man ever loved his own native language more than did Klop- stock. He seems almost too proud of it when he says : ' let no living tongue venture to enter the lists with the German ! As it was in the oldest times, when Tacitus wrote of us, so it still remains solitary, unmixed, and incomparable ! ' When the poet, 200 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. in one of his odes, boldly censured Friedrich II. for his neglect of German poetry, the king might have replied, that a national existence must precede a national literature. Klopstock could have no adequate notion of the studies that occupied the attention of the king. With France and Austria plotting against him, he might well be excused if he did not read German poetry. Klop- stock's indignation was more justly directed against ' the idle luxurious princes,' whom he describes as ' obscure in their own day and, afterwards, still more obscure.' The poet's love of freedom led him to hail the American War of Independence and the early proclamations of the French Revolution. 'Forgive me, O ye Franks,' he says, in one of his odes, ' if I ever cautioned my countrymen against following your example ; for now I am urging them to imitate you.' He was about sixty years old when he wrote in this vein, but he lived long enough to find his hopes dis- appointed, and seems to have been deeply grieved. The verses in which he gives expressions to his feelings on the failure of his hopes of liberty are earnest but rather prosaic. Among the odes devoted to friendship and love, there may be found, besides a few weak and sentimental specimens already referred to, several of a higher character ; but their merits are so far formal as to defy translation. The following attempt to trans- late one of the shorter of the odes 'Early Graves' written in antique metres and without rhyme, can give only the sentiment of the original stanzas : Welcome, moon, with silver light, Fair, still companion of the night ! 0, friend of lonely meditation, stay ! While clouds drift o'er thy face, and pass away. Still fairer than this summer night Is young May morning, glad and bright, When sparkling dew-drops from his tresses flow, And all the eastern hills like roses glow. O Friends, whose tombs, with moss o'ergrown, Remind me, I am left alone, How sweet for me ere you were called away Were shades of night and gleams of breaking day ! Among the best of Klopstock's odes, with regard to their antique metres, one in Alcaic strophes, beginning with the line : Der, welcher nie freundschaftliche Bande brach, XV.] LESSING. 201 and another, in Asclepiadean verse, beginning thus, Schon ist, Mutter Natur, deiner Erfindung Pracht, may be noticed as examples of the poet's more studious versifica- tion. Such odes may, without difficulty, be put into Latin; for the sentiments they express, as well as their metres, have an antique dignity. In some of his later odes the poet employs con- structions of words and sentences so intricate that they may afford practice for advanced students of logical analysis, and may suit the purpose of examiners who wish to puzzle competitors in trans- lations from German verse. ' Klopstock,' says Hegel, ' was great in his thoughts of nation- ality, freedom, love, friendship and religion. His genius was, in some respects, limited by the circumstances of his times ; but, as an earnest, independent and manly character, he remained without a rival until the time when SCHILLER appeared.' This was said at the conclusion of a lecture on lyrical poetry, and it is evident that the great critic confined his attention to writers in that de- partment of literature. If he had been speaking of the whole of the German literature of the eighteenth century, he must have thought of another earnest, manly, and independent character Lessing. GOTTHOLD EPHRAIM LESSING, the son of a Lutheran pastor residing at Kamenz in Oberlausitz, was born there, on January 22, 1729. . His studies, commenced at the classical school at Meissen (1741), were continued at Leipzig (1746), and at Berlin in 1748. During these seven years, his reading was very exten- sive ; but he found leisure for recreation, and indulged his taste for the theatre. In 1753-60 he resided mostly in Leipzig and in Berlin, where in 1760, he was elected a member of the Academy. Soon afterwards, he gained an appointment as secretary to the Governor of Silesia, and went to reside at Breslau. His life there was so little like that of a book-worm that some plausibility was given to a false report that he had almost forsaken his studies and had turned gambler. But during the five years passed at Breslau, he produced his play of Minna von Barnhelm, and prepared the materials for other works. In 1767 he went to Hamburg, to assist in an endeavour to establish a national drama, and there wrote his Dramaturgic, at first published in the form of a theatrical journal. His project of a reformation of the theatre failed, and he was glad 202 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. to leave Hamburg, when he received an appointment as librarian at Wolfenbiittel. The resources of the great library there gave full scope to his powers of research, and one of the earlier results was the publication of a supposed lost treatise on the Eucharist by Berengar of Tours. In 1776 Lessing married an amiable widow, with whom he had become acquainted at Hamburg. Her death in 1778 was one of the greatest sorrows of his life. His publication of some fragments written by Reimarus, a Rationalist divine, brought Lessing into the arena of a theological controversy by which his later years were embittered. To assert his own doc- trine of toleration he wrote his drama of ' Nathan ' (published in 1779), and his essay 'On the Education of Mankind' (1780), which still remains the clearest manifesto ever written in favour of the principles of a free theology. His latest studies, and especially his polemical contests had an unfavourable effect on his health. His cheerfulness and sociality declined, and, after several severe attacks of illness, he died on February 15, 1781. A statue of the great critic was placed near the library at Wolfenbiittel in 1796, and another, of colossal size, was erected at Brunswick in 1853 ; but Lessing's true monument is seen in the best German Literature of the nineteenth century. It may be safely said, that the works of other great men belong partly to him. His own col- lected writings were first published at Berlin in 1771-94, and a better edition appeared in 1838-40. Lessing's personal character, which was made the object of ungenerous censures during his life and after his decease, is shown clearly enough in his works and in his letters. In the latter are found evidences that he was a good brother, a kind husband and a faithful friend. As a literary reformer, he stood alone in his times, and lived in the world of his own thoughts, remote from the narrow interests of the book-worms and the abstract and specialist professors of his day. That he was, sometimes, too severe in his polemical^writings, may be freely admitted : but he was a disinterested inquirer for truth, and his criticism was mostly directed against errors and not against persons. Lessing's best works may be classified as dramatic, critical and didactic. The first of his more important dramas, ' Miss Sara Sampson ' (1755), is chiefly noticeable for the introduction of scenes from real life in the middle classes. Minna von Barn- helm (1763), was the first truly national drama that appeared on. XV.] LESSING'S DRAMAS. 203 the German stage. Its background is supplied by the events of the Seven Years' War, and its purport is generous and conciliatory. Of a narrow provincial patriotism Lessing would know nothing ; his tone throughout the drama is friendly towards both Saxons and Prussians. Tellheim, the hero, is a Prussian officer who is engaged in levying war contributions in a poor district of Saxony, and who pities and spares the people, for whom he pays money out of his own resources. After the conclusion of peace, he is ac- cused of dishonest dealings with the enemy, is prosecuted and falls into poverty and military disgrace. His conduct has, however, won more than the admiration of Minna, a Saxon lady, to whom he has been betrothed during the war. She now comes forward to aid him ; but he will not allow her to share in his disgrace and poverty. Minna endeavours to change his resolution, at first by reasonings, but, afterwards, by the stratagem of pretending to be in needy circumstances andin want of adefender. It is hardly necessary to add, that her plot has a successful conclusion. The exposition of the drama is clear, and its action though too much retarded in the third act moves on well in other parts ; . while several minor incidents are skilfully made useful in leading to the result. It must be regretted that the author did not write more dramas of this class. His next important work is of another type. He had planned, before 1760, a tragedy on the old Roman story of Vir- ginia, and this work, modernised and otherwise changed, so as to serve a concealed purpose, appeared as the tragedy of l Emilia Galotti/ in 1772. Its scenes are laid in Italy ; but the purport is an exposure of the vices and the tyranny of a corrupted aristocracy, wherever found. The style is laconic, realistic, and often made very powerful by condensation. Nothing can be more painful than the conclusion ; but the exposition and the development of the crisis make the catastrophe inevitable. The innocent victim is first made to appear guilty of a crime of which she never dreamed ; she is deprived of liberty, and is artfully surrounded by deadly intrigues planned by a creature Marinelli for the licen- tious Prince who employs him. At this moment, Odoardo, the father of the heroine, gains a brief interview with his daughter, Emilia, for whom there is now only one way of escape : Odoardo. The thought that under a show of law and justice the nfernal mockery ! they will tear you from my bosom carry you away to the house of Grimaldi ! 204 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATURE. [Cu. Emilia. They will tear me away, you say to carry me thither ? They will, you say, as if, father, we had no will ! Odoardo. It made me mad ; I seized this (he shows a dagger) to pierce one of the two ! . . . Emilia. Give the steel to me father. Odoardo. Child, this is no hair-pin to play with Emilia. Give it to me father. Now give it me ! Odoardo. There ! I give it there ! [She is about to stab herself, when he snatchet away the dagger. . . . She plucks a rose from her head-dress and tears it to pieces, while she speaks in a bit- ter tone.'] Emilia. In the old times, there lived a father who, to save his child, buried the steel in her bosom, and so gave her life a second time. It is au old story ! Such fathers once lived ; but there are none like them now ! Odoardo. Yes, yes, there is, at least, one (he stabs Emilia) God ! what have I done? (She falls into his arms.) Emilia. Broken off the rose before it was blighted. Let me kiss that father's hand. [The Prince and Marinelli enter the room.] Prince. What is here ! Emilia what has hurt her ? Odoardo. She is well quite well. Prince, (stepping nearer to Odoardo.) Terrible ! what is this ! Marinelli. Oh! Prince. Horrible father ! what is this you've done ? Odoardo. I've culled a rose before the storm could blight it. Is it not so my daughter ? Emilia. Not you, father I myself Odoardo. Not so, daughter say not that as you leave this world. 'Twas your father ! 'Twas your own miserable father ! [She dies; he gently lays her corpse on the floor.'] Now Prince, step hither ! Look there ! . . . You expect that 1 shall con- clude this, like a common tragedy, by burying this steel in my own heart. You mistake me. There ! (He flings down the weapon.) There lies the red- dened witness of the crime. And now to the dungeon and then to my trial, with you, Prince, for my judge ! and then yonder ! I summon you to appear before the Judge of all mankind. . . . The attack on bad princes and a corrupt aristocracy was partly concealed in the tragedy of ' Emilia Galotti.' The purport of Lessing's last drama, ' Nathan the Wise ' (1779), was so evident and attracted so much attention that it served to cast into the shade the artistic merits of the plot. Among the leading charac- ters, Saladin, the Mussulman, Nathan the Jew, and a Christian Templar all separated by their creeds are bound together by mutual good services. The interest of the drama concentrates itself in the story of ' The Three Kings ' borrowed from a novel XV.] NATHAN. 205 by Boccaccio which is made to serve as a text from which to preach the duty of universal religious toleration. ' Nathan ' was the result of Lessing's own experience of theological controversy, and this explains the fact that its purport is too manifest. It may be doubted whether, apart from such experience, his own critical judgment would have commended such a prevalence of the didactic element as is found in this drama. He was so earnest in his wishes for its success that he wrote : ' health and happiness for the place where " Nathan " shall, first, be represented ! ' Nothing more can be said here of the doctrine implied in ' Nathan ; ' but a quotation may show something of its dramatic power. In the fifth scene of the third act, Nathan, a liberal Israelite, famous for his wisdom, is summoned to appear before the Sultan, Saladin, in his palace. The Israelite expects that some loan of money will be demanded, and is, therefore, surprised, when he finds that the Sultan wishes to talk of the three creeds pro- fessed in Palestine. ' Of these three only one can be true/ says Saladin, who now commands Nathan to state, in confidence, his own sincere belief. The Israelite, requests that, before he gives a direct answer, he may be allowed to recite a parable, and when permission has been given, he thus proceeds : In the oldest times, and in an eastern land, There lived a man who had a precious ring. This gem an opal of a hundred tints Had such a virtue as would make the wearer Who trusted it, beloved by God and man. What wonder, if the man who had this ring Preserved it well, and, by his will, declared It should for ever in his house remain ? At last when death came near, he called the son Whom he loved best, and gave to him the ring, With one strict charge ; ' My son, when you must die, Let this be given to your own darling child The son whom you love best without regard To any rights of birth.' 'Twaa thus the ring Was always passed on to the best-beloved. Sultaim ! you understand me ? Saladin. Yea. Go on ! Nathan. A father, who. at last possessed this ring Had three dear sons all dutiful and true All three alike beloved. But, at one time, This son, and then another, seemed most dear Most worthy of the ring ; and it was given, By promise, first to this son, then to that, 206 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. Until it might be claimed by all the three. At last, when death drew nigh, the father felt His heart distracted by the doubt to whom The ring was due. He could not favour one And leave two sons in grief ! How did he act ? He called a goldsmith in, gave him the gem, And bade him make exactly of that form, Two other rings, and spare nor cost nor pains To make all three alike. And this was done So well, the owner of the first, true ring Could find no shade of difference in the three. And now he called his sons one at a time He gave to each a blessing and a ring One of the three and died Saladin. Well, well. Go on. Nathan. My tale is ended. You may guess the sequel : The father dies ; immediately each son Comes forward with his ring, and asks to be Proclaimed as head and ruler of the house ; All three assert one claim, and show their rings All made alike. To find the first the true It was as great a puzzle as for us To find the one true faith. Saladin. Is that, then, all the answer I must have ? Nathan. 'Tis my apology, if I decline To act as judge, or to select the ring The one, true gem, of three all made alike ; All given by one Saladin. There ! talk no more of ' rings.' The three religions that, at first, were named Are all distinct aye, down to dress food drink Nathan. Just so ! and yet their claims are all alike, As founded upon history, on facts Believed, and handed down from sire to son, Uniting them in faith. Can we the Jews Distrust the testimony of our race ? Distrust the men who gave us birth, whose love Did ne'er deceive us ; but, when we were babes, Taught us, by means of fables, for our good ? Must you distrust your own true ancestors, To flatter mine ? or must a Christian doubt His father's words, and so agree with ours ? Saladin. Allah ! the Israelite is speaking truth, And I am silenced Nathan. Let me name the rings Once more ! The sons at last, in bitter strife, Appeared before a judge, and each declared He had the one true gem, given by his father ; All said the same, and all three spoke the truth ; Each, rather than suspect his father's word, Accused his brethren of a fraud XV.] NATHAN. 207 Saladin. What then ? What sentence could the judge pronounce ? Go on. Nathan. Thus said the judge ; 'go, bring your father here ; Let him come forth ! or I dismiss the case. Must I sit guessing riddles ! must I wait Till the true ring shall speak out for itself? But stay ! 'twas said that the authentic gem Had virtue that could make its wearer loved By God and man. That shall decide the case. Tell me who of the three is best beloved By his two brethren. Silent ? Then the ring Hath lost its charm ! Each claimant loves himself, But wins no love. The rings are forgeries ; 'Tis plain, the first, authentic gem was lost ; To keep his word with you, and hide his loss, Your father had these three rings made these three, Instead of one ' Saladin. Well spoken, judge, at last ! Nathan. 'But stay,' the judge continued; 'hear one word The best advice I have to give ; then go. Let each still trust the ring given by his father ! It might be, he would show no partial love ; He loved all three, and, therefore, would not give The ring to one and grieve the other two. Go, emulate your father's equal love. Let each first test his ring and show its power ; But aid it, while you test ; be merciful, Forbearing, kind to all men, and submit Your will to God. Such virtues shall increase Whatever powers the rings themselves may have ; When these, among your late posterity, Have shown their virtue in some future time, A thousand thousand years away from now Then hither come again ! A wiser man Than one now sitting here will hear you then, And will pronounce the sentence ' Saladin. Allah! Allah! Nathan. Now, Saladin, art thou that ' wiser man ? Art thou the judge who will, at last, pronounce The sentence ? [Saladin grasps Nathan's hand, and holds it to the end of the conversation.] Saladin. I the judge ? I'm dust ! I'm nothing ! Tis Allah ! Nathan, now I understand ; The thousand thousand years have not yet passed ; The Judge is not yet come ; I must not place Myself upon His throne ! I understand Farewell, dear Nathan ! Go. Be still my friend. LESSING was one of the greatest of critics and and polemical writers. He had the power of placing himself fairly in the 208 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUKE. [Cn. position of his antagonist, and could make a true analysis of an antithesis serve as a development of his own thesis. The style of his critical writings is not a dress put upon his thoughts, but a medium so transparent, that we never think of it. It is dialectic and dramatic ; thoughts arise one after another, in an inevitable order, and converse together, or contend, until the strongest gains the mastery, and asserts itself clearly as the victor. The opposites of all the faults commonly found in writers on metaphysics and aesthetics are found in Lessing's prose. Of the contents of his critical works it is hard to give, within our limits, any fair summary. He began with an exposure of the errors of -critics who had confounded poetry with descriptive and didactic writings, and he assigned to such fables as Bodmer and others had praised too highly their proper, subordinate place. Lessing's own fables are remarkably concise, and so clear that they want no appendices. Here, for example, is one of the shortest, which he addressed to imitative writers : ' Name any animal so clever that I cannot imitate him,' said the ape to the fox. ' Tell me,' said the fox, ' where is there any animal so contempti- ble, that he would think of imitating you.' In Virgil's story of the Priest Laokoon and his sons, the father, while he wrestles with the python, utters loud cries ; but in the well-known work of sculpture representing the dreadful crisis, the central figure has no distortion of the face. Lessing, in his Laokoon, makes use of these facts to show the difference between poetry on one side, and sculpture and painting on the other. Epic poetry, he contends, must narrate events ; painting and sculpture represent co-existent objects. In poetry the expression of extreme pain may be allowed, for it passes away ; in sculpture, where it would be fixed for ever, it is out of place. Hence repose is the essential characteristic of ancient sculpture, as Winckelmann had already contended. Painting may indicate action, when the artist, though representing one moment in a series of events, suggests its antecedent and its result. So -far painting may resemble poetry. Again, as the poet speaks of bodies as well as of actions, he may touch on the province of painting, when he applies to objects their descriptive epithets ; but he must not dwell on descriptions. In other words, he must not try to do in words and tones what the painter can do, far more successfully, in outlines, shades and XV.] POETKY AND PAINTING. 209 colours. The two arts are sisters ; but they must ever be clearly distinguished. ' I should have no faith in my theory,' says Lessing, ' if I did not find it confirmed by Homer's practice.' The critic then analyses the epic style of the Iliad, and especially notices that while events are fully narrated no long descriptions are given of the objects connected with the story .... A ship, for ex- ample, is mentioned as 'the black ship,' the 'hollow,' or 'the well-rowed black ship.' Of the stationary object Homer says no more ; but when he speaks of an action, or of a series of actions, connected with a ship such as rowing, embarking, or landing he tells its story so fully that, if a painter would represent the whole, he must divide it into five or six pictures. When the poet would give us a notion of Agamemnon's dress, he makes the king clothe himself, putting on one garment after another arid, at last, grasping his sceptre ; and how is the sceptre introduced ? Does Homer try to paint, in words, its golden studs and its carvings ? No ; he gives its history, and tells us how it first came from the forge of Vulcan ; how it then shone in the hand of Zeus, and was handed down by Hermes to the warlike Pelops, and so, at last, came into the possession of Atreus, the shepherd of his people. Such notes as the above, may indicate the character of Lessing'a theory of epic poetry. His contributions to the criticism of the drama are not less valuable. In his Hamburgische Dramaturgic (1767-68), which was started as a theatrical journal and review, Lessing exposes the errors of theorists who had misconceived Aristotle's doctrine of the three unities. He shows that the unities of time and place were not always observed by the best Greek dramatists, while he establishes his own doctrines on the authority of Aristotle and on examples taken from the Greek dramatists, and from Shakspere and Calderon. He denounces imitations of French models ; but by no means speaks altogether contemptuously of the French theatre. Its best writers might have attained the highest honours in tragedy, he says, if they had not regarded them as already attained. Of French comedy Lessing writes with a full appreciation of its excellence. These outlines give no adequate notion of the grasp of thought, the wide research and the extensive reading found in the critical works on which Lessing's reputation is founded. He denounced the poetry of adjectives cultivated by descriptive versifiers; he 210 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUEE. [Cn. exposed the dogmatic character of Gottsched's theory ; the decla- mation issued as criticism by Bodmer ; the sentimentalism and want of artistic form in Klopstock's epic, and the prosing of the fabulists, who wished to make a pulpit of poetry ; but in all this apparently negative work, his purport was neither satirical nor destructive : he was building while he was pulling down, he at- attracted the attention of readers to the surpassing genius of Shakspere and, while denouncing slavish imitation, he demanded a profound respect for the great works of antiquity. In a word, he gave to literature an inspiring idea which has been already partly developed, and is still going on towards its full realisation. f Every great work that has been done in the world,' says Hegel, ' has been done through the might of an idea.' The labours of Lessing supply strong proofs of that doctrine. Soon after the Laokoon was published (1766), it was reviewed by Prof. Klotz, a man of extensive attainments in history, who had written a treatise on 'The Uses of Antique Gems.' Lessing, in his reply to the reviewer, attacked unjustly, as erudite specialists have said the reviewer's book on antique ,gems, and wrote several polemical lectures addressed to Klotz, which were afterwards collected as ' Antiquarian Letters ' (1768-69). Their tone is, sometimes, very severe ; but it should be remembered that Klotz was an abusive critic. In reviewing a book, he had described the author as a fraudulent and intemperate wine- merchant, who had run away from his creditors, and had been reduced to starvation. Shut out from the discussion of politics, German professors in Lessing's day too often expressed in their literary controversies such angry feelings as now find a vent in the strife of factions. It has been regretted that Lessing expended his energy on unworthy topics and was not allowed to write freely on political affairs. Some indications of what he might have done in this way may be found in the interesting conversations which appeared under the title, ' Ernst and Falk ' (1778). Falk is a freemason, and pleads for the formation of an International Union, intended to supply the defects of all local forms of government and to prevent war. States, he argues, must have their boundaries and their several tendencies to make themselves insular. Their relations with each other are, therefore, constantly in danger of assuming a hostile character. What is wanted, to lessen the harshness of their XV.] LESSING. 211 divisions, is a union of catholic men, whose sympathies have no local bounds, and whose good will embraces the world. It might be thought, that religion should supply such ft bond of nations ; but instead of religion, says Falk, we have religions, and it is too well-known, that they have made wider the separation of one people from another. Hence the want of a free union of men, meeting, not as German, French and English, but as men, and united, not by sympathy alone ' as in an invisible Church ' but also by an organisation founded on catholic ideas. This argu- ment is very skilfully conducted by Falk ; especially in the second dialogue in which Ernst is unconsciously led round to assert, at last, the doctrine which he denied when the discussion was commenced. The controversy in which Lessing was engaged during the later years of his life, excited him to write the series of eleven letters entitled ' Anti-Goetze ' (addressed to a pastor named Goetz, residing at Hamburg), and the philosophical essay ' On the Edu- cation of Mankind.' The claim of Lessing to the authorship of this work has been recently disputed ; but no ground has been shewn for believing that any other man of the eighteenth century could have written it. If it is briefly noticed here, it is because, though the style is concise, tbe speculative purport is far too extensive to be fairly treated within any narrow limits. The hundred paragraphs of which the essay consists contain thoughts that might be beaten out into as many volumes. Indeed, this work has been done by the German writers who represent the school of free theology ; but the original essay may still be viewed as the best and clearest manifesto of their school. All the reli- gious controversies of Germany appear to be reducing themselves to one ; between the principles of toleration maintained in this essay and the claims of a personal infallibility asserted by the Jesuits. When viewed apart from its advocacy of religious toleration, Lessing's brief treatise is still important; for it contains the germs of several far more extensive, but not more luminous, works on the philosophy of history. The honour ascribed to Herder, of having first opened that field of research must be restored to Lessing. His practical purport is to contend for a toleration of all differences of opinions, to recommend the exercise of patience in the midst of religious and other errors, and, lastly, to assert 212 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. his own trust in a slow but sure progression of the human race, in both knowledge and virtue. A. gradual revelation of truth, he argues, is the best possible education for mankind. The pro- cess may be slow ; but the straight line, says Leasing, is not always practically the shortest. How do we know all that Provi- dence has to do with men besides leading them onwards ? How do we know, that seeming deviations from the direct line of pro- gress, and even some retrogressions, may not be necessary ? Then arises the question ; for the men whose lot it has been to live in the darker times of a progressive revelation, what consolation can there be found in the belief that, for others, the daylight will, at last, appear ? To this Lessing replies by a bold suggestion, that men may possibly be allowed to return to this world, in order to amend their errors and to fulfil their best aspirations. To console those who deplore the time apparently lost by mankind, in their pursuit of errors, Lessing speaking as a representative of the human race declares finally, that the time so lost can be well afforded; 'for,' says he, 'is not the whole of eternity still ours?' In this, his last work, Lessing stands on his own ground, and must not be vaguely classed with the Eationalists of the eighteenth century. When he refers to three of the doctrines of orthodoxy which have often been described as opposed to reason, he suggests that these may, some day, be made clear. He speaks with respect even of the mystics of the fourteenth century, and of some visionaries who have looked for a speedy Millennium, he has nothing more severe to say than that they had a prophetic dream, and expected, too impatiently, its fulfilment. Lessing had not entered the arena of controversy with impunity. ' Candide ' and other works by Voltaire hardly brought on their writer such reprobation as fell on the author of ' Nathan ' in the last two years of his life. Gossips went from house to house among his friends, and warned them to shun his errors, and after his death, his friends had to suffer for their respect to his memory. FRIEDRICH HEINETCH JACOBI, who had a taste for polemical excitement, though he wrote in a sentimental style, founded en some words ascribed to Lessing a charge of ( pantheism.' Les- eing's friend Mendelssohn, whose character suggested that of ' Nathan,' was an invalid at the time ; but he came forward to repel the charge, exhausted his strength in the controversy, and XV.] WIELAND. 213 sacrificed his life to his respect for the memory of LESSING. Among the prose-writers and moralists of his times, there was hardly a character more amiable than that of Mendelssohn. The gratitude of his Israelite friends for his efforts in their behalf especially in favour of a more liberal education was rather ex- travagantly expressed when they said ; ' from Moses to Moses there was none like Moses.' Three of his sons were eminent men, and one of his grandsons was the accomplished and amiable musician Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy. Klopstock was a poet, but he knew little of the rules of poetic art. Lessing was not a poet, in the higher sense of the name ; but he was a true and genial critic. If the genius of Klopstock had been always guided by Lessing's judgment, a greater poem than ' The Messias,' might have been produced in the eighteenth century. Klopstock and Lessing were literary reformers. The writer of 'The Messias' kindled enthusiasm ; the author of the Laokoon, wrote to unite deep thought with artistic beauty. These men represented the kindred powers of warmth and light ; of life and order. Klopstock suggested that poets should employ their powers on worthy themes, and Lessing taught them how to write. The inspiration of the poet and the enlightenment of the critic were derived from one source and employed to one end. They were ideal men, and had thoughts that united their labours with the interests of a future literature. No such ideas inspired WIELAND. The chief duty of a literary man, as he understood it, was to amuse his readers, and to fulfil it he must be, in the first place, conciliatory ; he must adapt both his subject and his style to the fashion of his times. The taste of many readers in the higher classes of society was still French when Wieland began to write fictions. German literature had been cultivated, and its style had been improved, but its topics must be changed, in order that it might be introduced to courts and to the higher circles. Wieland saw the necessity of this change, and while he wrote with gracefulness and vivacity in verse and prose, he extended greatly the range of topics found in light literature. He borrowed his materials from ancient and mediaeval times, and from modern European fiction, and treated them in a style adapted to the tastes of the upper classes. For them the enthusiasm and the Christian sentiment of Klopstock were tiresome, and they complained, not without a cause, of his 214 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATURE. [Cn. pompous and sometimes intricate style. No faults could be found in Lessing's style; but the great critic was a close thinker and wished to make his readers think. This was in itself intolerable, and, moreover, he had the fault of refusing to write on such topics as the aristocracy cared for. A restoration of the ancient cha- racter of the theatre, as a national institution, and a union of old and true forms of art with the growth of modern literature ; these were not subjects to attract the attention of many among the refined classes. Wieland understood their prejudices, and he wrote to suit them. He had been educated partly under the influence of pietism ; but he had liberated himself from its re- straints, and had become as free in the treatment as in the choice of subjects. This change in both style and purport took place, apparently, so suddenly that it excited some surprise among literary men. Severe critics even called the new writer a Parisian of the time of Louis XV. CHKISTOPH MARTIN WIELAND, the son of a Lutheran pastor, was born near Biberach in 1733. During his course of studies, at a school near Magdeburg and at the University of Tubingen, he read extensively in French and English, as well as in ancient literature, and wrote verses. His 'love of poetry gained for him an introduction to Bodmer of Zurich, in whose house he lived two years, devoting his time mostly to verse-writing on serious themes. He began one epic on ' Cyrus,' and completed another on ' The Trial of Abraham.' At this time, he was, formally, Pietistic, and wrote, in a work called 'The Sentiments of a Christian,' some severe criticisms on light literature. But, after leaving Ziirich, Wieland seemed to forget all the teachings of Bodmer and other serious advisers. The society to which the young poet gained access, when he went to live at Biberach, included several friends whose tastes in literature were opposed to everything severe or Pietistic. Wieland now read French romances, became more con- versant with English literature, translated fluently several ot Shakspere's plays, and began to write fiction in a style that was new in German literature. In his tate of 'Don Sylvio ' (1764), he cast ridicule on professors of Pietism, which he now called fana- ticism. He still had a didactic purport ; but it was no longer serious, for he pleaded in favour of a well-regulated Epicurean practice, founded on such philosophy as might be stated in a few Horatian stanzas. He wrote playfully against severity and dog- XV.] WIELAND'S WORKS. 215 matism and, especially, exposed the danger of extremes ia opinions or in practice. In his ' Aspasia ' he suggested that ascetic piety might lead to sensuality. These views were ex- pressed in a style so new and lively that it was said, ' Wieland's muse had cast off her nun's attire and had dressed herself as a fashionable dame.' Lessing jocosely said that 'she had forsaken heaven.' In 1772 Wieland went to Weimar, where he was engaged as tutor to the sons of the Duchess. He established there his literary journal, ' The German Mercury,' which was soon regarded as an authority and had a long success. In his later years Wie- land still wrote on industriously, though his popularity was opposed by the poets of the Hainbund, and by the (so-called) 1 men of original genius.' The tendencies already indicated in his poems ' Musarion ' and ' The New Amadis,' were continued in the prose romances written during his long residence in and near Weimar. Here, surrounded by literary friends and placed in easy circumstances, he maintained his literary activity to an ad- vanced age, and died in 1813. Goethe, as a member of the Amelia Lodge, pronounced a masonic eulogium on the character of Wieland, who had been generally respected for his kindly temper, his tact and his conciliatory address. Friedrich Jacob! asserted that, of all the literary men of the time, ' Wieland was the only one who was not envious of Goethe's superiority.' This statement could hardly be true in its full extent j but it in- dicated one of the best traits in Wieland's personal character. His literary industry was extraordinary, and the quantity of work he performed made the care in polishing his style remarkable. To say nothing of his earlier works, he wrote, after 1772, his best poem ' Oberon,' his ' Stories and Fairy Tales,' the Wintermarchen and the Sommermarchen, and several other productions in fluent verse, besides his prose romances ' Agathon,' ' The Abderites,' ' Aristippus,' and two others which, though written when he was seventy years old, are good specimens of his style. In 1793 and later, he published his collected works in forty-two volumes. He translated the epistles and satires of Horace, the whole of the works of Lucian, Cicero's Letters and several of the comedies of Aristophanes. ' Thoughts may be characterised by an inane depth as well as by an inane expansion,' says Hegel. From the first of these de- 216 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. fects Wieland is comparatively free, for he seldom attempts to be profound ; but he is too often verbose. His purport is clear and go easily understood, that his prolix repetitions of attempts to ex- plain his meaning are tedious. Though he is seldom severe, he is didactic, and he too often comes forward to interrupt his own work as a story-teller. If he is ever earnest, it is in warning his readers of the unhappy tendencies of Pietism. He hardly could forgive the teachers who led him to study in a severe school during his youth, and the object of several of his works is to ex- expose the errors of that school. In his poems, ' Musarion,' ' the Graces ' and ' Lamented Love,' he repeats, again and again, his censure of ascetic notions of virtue. In the last-named of these poems, Cupid is expelled from heaven, and the Graces go with him ; but the place is found so dull without them, that they are soon urged to return. ' Musarion ' (1768), is less prolix than some of Wieland's early w.orks. Goethe read it with delight, when he was hardly twenty years old. It tells the story of a youth who, by severe early discipline, is led to retire from society, but soon finds out that he is not well qualified for a hermit's life. In ' The New Amadis ' another work in verse the difficulty of finding wisdom and beauty united in one person is playfully described, and the hero, after a vain search for such perfection, marries a plain and intelligent wife. This conclusion, however dull, is the most edifying part of the story, of which some details are treated with great licence. The tendency of ' Agathon,' a romance in prose, is polemical as well as didactic, and the style is in some parts tiresomely verbose. The writer is severe, but only against severity, and again de- nounces the stern doctrines which had been impressed on his memory in early life. These are now represented by the teachings of an antique philosophy. Agathon, a Greek youth, is educated at Delphi and, afterwards, lives at the court of Dionysius, where he learns to regard as impracticable all the moral theories of his early teachers. The lessons conveyed by the story are often given in a direct form, so as to interrupt the narrative. Wieland's best and most artistic work ' Oberon,' a romantic poem has its scenes in the East and in Fairy Land. Three dis- tinct stories are well united so as to form a whole ; for each depends on the others. The adventures of the hero and the heroine Hiion and Rezia are skilfully blended with the story of XV.] WIELAND'S WOEKS. 217 the quarrel and the reconciliation of Oberon and Titania, and the whole plot, though complicated, is made clear. Goethe said ; ' as long as gold is gold, and crystal is crystal, Oberon will be admired.' On the other side, severer critics have described the poem as merely fantastic and destitute of strong interest in its motives. The author, it is said, treated mediaeval and romantic legends and fairy tales in a superficial and ironical manner, and gained his popularity by assuming a light, mock-heroic style. In his antique romance ' The Abderites ' (1774), Wieland chose a subject in harmony with his playful style. He made here no pretence of truly describing life in ancient Greece, but em- ployed an assumed antiquity as a mere veil for light satire on the petty interests and the foibles of provincial life. In his account of Abdera he made use, probably, of his own recollections of Biberach, his native place. The Abderites are people ironically styled wise ; they erect a fountain, with costly sculptures, where there is no water, and place a beautiful statue of Venus, of life- size, on a pedestal eighty feet high, ' so that it may be well seen by all travellers coming towards the town.' They were not solitary in this latter absurdity. One of the best parts of the story describes the theatrical tastes of the Abderites. The reader is introduced to their theatre when the ' Andromeda ' of Euri- pides is represented as an opera, and with a text reduced and modified ' to suit the music and the singers.' The composer has given free tickets to all his relatives, who applaud every part ot his work. The tenor, who takes the part of Perseus, is cheered so loudly that he loses the key, forgets the melody, and wins applause again by substituting an aria from the ' Cyclops.' The soprano, Eukolpis, represents Andromeda, and when bound to the rock and exposed to the anger of the Nereids, repeats her sad monologue thrice, in order to introduce again and again some florid passages supposed to be like the notes of a nightingale. 'Whatever she has to express laughter or weeping, grief or anger, hope or fear the nightingale's notes and trills must always be introduced and they are always sure of winning an encore.' But the long account of the great law-suit at Abdera is the most amusing part of the story, and is as good as anything written by Wieland. He tells us that, in Abdera, there was only one surgeon-dentist. He had an extensive practice in the neighbour- hood, and travelled, in a lowly fashion, from place to place. On 218 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [On. one occasion, he hired an ass and its driver to carry his small bag- gage across a wide heath. It was a hot and bright summer's day; there was neither tree nor bush to cast a foot of shade anywhere, and the weary surgeon-dentist was glad to sit down and rest a while in the shadow cast from the figure of the ass. Against this appropriation of a shade the driver, who was also the owner of the ass, made a protest, to the effect, that he had sold the services of the ass and his own ; but that nothing had been said in the bargain about any such use of the shadow ! The dentist must, therefore, either come out of the shade, or pay something extra for its use. As he refused to do so, a law-suit followed ; the best lawyers of Abdera were employed on each side ; both the claimant and the defendant were strongly supported by their respective friends, and the whole population of the town was soon divided into two parties, styled respectively, ( Asses ' and ' Shadows.' So bitter was their enmity, that an ( Ass ' would not sit down at the same table with a ' Shadow.' The conclusion may be found in the twentieth volume of Wieland's collected works. His account of the process occupies half the volume ; but prolixity may here be excused ; for the humour of the report consists partly in its length, and a satire on the tediousness of law-suits can hardly be exaggerated. Wieland's opinions on society and government are expressed most fully in his ' Golden Mirror ' (1772). Its politics are bor- rowed from Rousseau and Voltaire, and its form is partly an imi- tation of one of Crebillon's works. The French Revolution made an end of Wieland's notions of easily establishing an Utopia on a negative basis. All the evils of society, he says, ' have arisen from tyranny and superstition ; ' but of the origin of these parent evils he has little to tell. In ' Peregrinus Proteus,' he ridiculed fanatics and had, it is said, an especial reference to Lavater, whose odd and difficult character he does not fairly describe. The tale is narrated in the form of a dialogue between Peregrinus and Lucian, who meet in Hades. The fanatic tells the adventures ot his life, and Lucian listens with ironical interest, or adds, now and then, a satirical commentary. In ' Aristippus,' a romance written in the form of letters, Lais is one of the leading characters intro- duced. The author makes here some attempts to write in an antique tone, but gives us, once more, his own worn and too familiar doctrines on the art of enjoying life. He represents utility XV.] WIELAND'S CRITICS. 219 as the test of truth, and pleasure as the object to be sought by virtue. In morals he still dislikes severity, and he especially censures dogmatism. ' If a man could be found as old as Nestor,' says Wieland, ' and seven times as wise as all the seven sages,' he would deliver his opinions with a tone of caution, ' which might, perhaps, be condemned as too much like scepticism.' Wieland's writings have been praised by the critics who have chiefly regarded his fluent and easy style, while his moral pur- port has been severely censured by writers of another class. There are German authors who would describe as obsolete such poems and romances as 'Musarion' and 'Agathon,' which, how- ever, have still some historical interest, as they afford evidence of the taste prevailing at the time when they were admired. The traits most worthy of reprobation in Wieland's stories are clearly enough indicated by a critic who, most probably, represents the opinions of not a few readers : ' Wieland,' says Dr. Vilmar, ' was the man of his time, for readers infected -with the subtle and sweet poison of the French literature then current ; especially for the higher classes, to whom thinking was tedious and enthusiasm ridiculous. To such people, who had formerly been dependent on the French, Wieland introduced a German literature well suited to their taste, and it is merely by their interest in the materials of his works that we now understand why he received, during his life, such praises as were hardly bestowed on Klopstock and never on Lessing.' This is only the lighter part of the critic's reprobation of Wieland's moral tendencies. A censure almost as severe is implied in few words by another critic Prof. Max Miiller. He observes that ' the severe judgments pronounced by German critics on Lohenstein are hardly to be reconciled with their praises still bestowed on the writings of Wieland.' It may be added, that some of the works to which these censures are especially appli- cable have not been named here. Their tendency was made too evident in the licentious writings of such men as Scheffner and Heinse, who greatly annoyed Wieland by professing to be his followers. Wieland's important contributions to the culture of the German language will not be forgotten. Goethe was partly indebted to the writer of ' Oberon,' and the Romantic School borrowed some suggestions from his mediaeval fictions. It may be pleaded, that some of his offences against good taste arose from a rather vague 220 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. notion of the extent to which playfulness might be indulged in fiction. He extended the culture of German literature in the southern states, and enlarged, for many readers, the boundaries of their imaginative world. Though he borrowed his fables from many sources, he was not a slavish imitator of any foreign litera- ture. The censure that he misrepresented life in ancient times especially in Greece is hardly called for, as he never professed to write fictions correct in their archaeological details. He used antique places and names, as he employed old tales of fairy-land, in order to gain freedom for the exercise of imagination and for the expression of such light and playful satire as is found in his story of the wise people of Abdera. A transition from the humour and playfulness of Wieland to the rhapsodies of the times of ' Sturm und Drang,' would seem abrupt, if it were not noticed that Wieland continued writing and translating for some years after he had lost his popularity. Like other authors who have lived eighty years, he found himself, in his old age, surrounded by young men who had no sympathy with him. The poets of the Hairibund wished to be patriotic, and were partly followers of Klopstock, while the wild ' men of original genius,' despised Wieland's poetry as tame, imitative and obsolete. He reciprocated their contempt, and not altogether without reason, as the following chapter may perhaps show. XVI.] GOETHE'S YOUTH. 221 CHAPTER XVI. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. THE TIME OF GOETHE*S YOUTH RELIGION, POLITICS AND LITERATURE ' STURM UND DRANG ' HAJIANN JACOBI HERDEB. THE SEVENTH PERIOD of German literature including sixty years almost the whole time of GOETHE'S literary activity is so full of important movements and interests that it must be sub- divided. In this and in the following chapter we shall attempt to describe the more important circumstances of the times in which GOETHE passed his youth. These notices may serve to explain not a few of the most remarkable traits in his imaginative writings ; for they are all, more or less, autobiographical and are full of references to the times of which we have now to tell. JOHANN WOLFGANG GOETHE was born at Frankfurt am Main on August 28, 1749. His ancestry on the father's side has been clearly traced to Hans Christian Goethe, a shoeing-smith who lived at Artern in Thuringia. Friedrich George, the son of Hans, was a tailor and went to live at Frankfurt. There he soon rose in the world and especially improved his circumstances in 1705, when he married tbe almost wealthy landlady of the hotel 1 Zum Weidenhof.' His son, Johann Kaspar, the poet's father, a man of respectable education, gained the titles of Rath and Doctor of Laws, but was content to live in easy circumstances and without the cares of office. He was a lover of order, a man of firm will, and conservative or old-fashioned, as irreverence might say in his tastes and prejudices. He would not hear of Kl op- stock as a poet, because the ' Messias ' was not written in rhyme. The boy Wolfgang was, however, one of the enthusiasts who not only read the 'Messias' but learned by heart some of its long 222 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. speeches, and his sister Cornelia helped him in getting up the furious dialogue of 'Satan and Adramelech.' 'We were de- lighted ' says the poet, in his recollections of boyhood ' with the violent reproaches and retorts which we thus learned to hurl against each other, and whenever we had an opportunity we ex- changed such compliments as " monster " and " traitor." ' His visits to the theatre and his intercourse with several French officers, during the occupation of Frankfurt in the course of the Seven Years' War, were circumstances of some importance in Goethe's early education. In 1765, when sixteen years old, he went to Leipzig to study law at the university ; but paid more at- . tention to poetry and light literature than to law. He read the pedantic critical treatises of Gottsched and Bodmer : and failing to find in them any guidance for a genius, he followed the instinct of his own heart. At this early age he began to put into verse his own thoughts and feelings suggested by real circumstances and, long afterwards, he faithfully adhered to his principle of finding in realities the motives of his poems. ' I have never been guilty of affectation in my poetry,' he once said to his friend, Eckermann; ' for example, I have not written songs of hatred against the French, simply because I did not hate them How could I hate the people to whom I owed a great part of my education ? But I was thankful to God when we were rid of them ! ' At another time he described his numerous occasional poems as all forming parts of ' one long confession.' ' These remarks may partly serve to explain the levity of two dramatic sketches Die Laune des Verliebten and Die Mitschuldigen written by the poet when he was about nineteen years old. They were the results of a youth's observation of society, and were expressed in a style suggested by readings in French literature. The influence of Klopstock was still felt in German literature, the critical power of Lessing was respected, and Wieland now writing industriously found many readers in the higher classes of society ; but admiration of Shakspere's genius was, at the com- mencement of this period, the chief source of inspiration for am- bitious young poets. They wanted new and stirring themes. Lessing could tell them well how to construct dramas ; but of what subject should they write was the question to which they wanted a reply. A general discontent with the past and a vague and restless ambition with regard to the future, character- XVI.] KATIONALISM. 223 ised the class of young students to which Goethe at this time belonged. Religious, political and social circumstances were all closely connected with the changes taking place in literature ; espe- cially in poetry. The preceding period had been, on the whole, a time of reformation ; this was a time of revolution. A move- ment that might be fairly called a literary revolution took place in Germany some years before the time when attempts to realise abstract principles destroyed social order and led to a military despotism in France. It would be a long task to tell why revo- lutionary axioms that had such formidable results in France were mostly confined to literature in Germany ; but that the same essential principles were prevalent in Prussia and in Paris in the latter part of the eighteenth century is a fact. The first of these principles was a general contempt of the past, ' with its history, its church authority and all its moral and theo- logical definitions. For all their views respecting the character and the destiny of mankind, ' the popular philosophers ' and the Rationalists in Germany like the politicians in France referred not to history, but to their own reasonings. What they thought of the claims of any historical and authoritative institutions of morals or religion can hardly be stated clearly ; for they regarded all such claims as hardly worthy of consideration. They did not deeply inquire how it had ever come to pass that men had been so long misguided by priestcraft. It was enough to know that this had been done in ' the dark ages,' which included the whole of the past. Another characteristic of these enlightened men was their enormous belief in the moral power of education. Their theory was that men are born with minds like blank paper, and to write good axioms on this paper was all that was required to make a new world. Hence the bold hopes expressed in the eloquent books of Rousseau and copied in the writings of his humble German imi- tators, Basedow and Pestalozzi. The faith of the popular philo- sophers, though very narrow, was as energetic as their denial of all assertions except their own. They had not the least doubt that they were able to demonstrate to all the world such truths as the existence of God and the immortality of the soul, and they were, consequently, astounded when KAKT told them that their argu- ments on these points were good for nothing. They had never 224 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATUEE. [Cn. dreamed that any one would be audacious enough to treat them as disrespectfully as they had treated the past. It did not matter when an obscure mystic HAMANN spoke contemptuously of their logic; but it was to be wondered at when Hume and Kant destroyed all the positive faith of ' the enlightened men.' How- ever, Nicolai, the Berlin bookseller, was by no means daunted, but declared that Kant hardly knew what he was talking about. Nicolai's dogmatism was characteristic of the school to which he belonged, though he was its extreme representative. His friends could not see that, if all the world had been in absolute error before their time, it was possible that they even the men of Ber- lin might be in error ; or that, if they might despise and over- throw everything they called obsolete, others might arise who, with equal authority, would demolish such doctrines as seemed infallible at Berlin in 1770 and afterwards. This anti-religious and quasi-philosophical excitement was more closely connected with the progress of literature, than, at first sight, might appear probable. The attacks of the men of en- lightenment, were mostly directed against so-called ' mysticism ; ' but under this term of reproach they included all expressions of faith or feeling, that could not be understood as easily as ' two and two make four.' One form of mysticism lurked, it was said, xmder a Protestant disguise; the other had a Romanising tendency, and both were suspected as means made use of by the Jesuits. The members of this order were supposed to be still active everywhere in Germany, although their missions were suppressed there in 1773. Most probably, more than half the machinations ascribed to their industry were purely imaginary ; for the Berlin men of light would not believe that any man could be religious unless he had been corrupted by Jesuits, or Mystics. The school of mysticism included such men as Hamann, who spoke like an oracle, Lavater, the dreamy and credulous writer on physiognomy, Jacobi, the declamatory philosopher, and the brothers Stolberg, who were third-rate poets. The methods employed to defend common sense and rationalism were remarkably shallow. It was thought advisable to spread enlightened opinions by the use of such secret means as had been ascribed to the Jesuits. The order of ' The Illuminati ' was, at first, openly instituted by Adam Weishaupt, a professor of law at Ingolstadt, but his followers were accused of making use of secret XVI.] KELIGION. diplomacy in spreading their principles ; especially among the brotherhoods of the freemasons. Their doctrine included little more than a few abstract assertions respecting the existence of a Supreme Being, the advantages of republican government, and the duties of a cosmopolitan philanthropy. A more fantastic class of dreamers ' the Rosicrucians ' also intruded themselves into the masons' lodges of this time. These ' brethren of the rosy cross ' professed to be the followers of a mythical sage Rosen- kreutz who had lived, they said, in the fourteenth century and had studied the occult sciences in India and in the pyramids of Egypt! The facts concealed under this fiction were these; Valentin Andreae, a divine of the seventeenth century, whom we have named among the versifiers of his time, had sometimes amused himself by writing religious allegories, or rather sketches of a Christian Utopia. One of his books, the ' Farna Fraternitatis R.c.' (1614), seems to have suggested to ' the brethren of the rosy cross ' their scheme of turning a dream into a reality. Their symbol was a Saint Andrew's cross, above a rose encircled with thorns ; their tenets it is not so easy to explain. Like others, they were suspected of being Jesuits in disguise, and many scandals and controversies took place in the masons' lodges. A member of the enlightened order, when engaged in conversation with one of ' the brethren of the rosy cross ' felt by no means sure that he was not dealing with a Jesuit, or with some alchemical swindler perhaps, with Cagliostro himself! for the masonic lodges were at this time overrun by adventurers, visionaries, 'grand templars,' Egyptian necromancers, and disciples of all kinds of Schwarmerei. That one word for which there is no English equivalent expresses, at once, two characteristics of the times ; a fanatical devotion to mere theories and a love of making new sects. One of the more noticeable of the ' illuminati,' ADOLF VON KNIGGE, wrote a book worth reading on ' Social Intercourse,' giving rules for making friends and for keeping out of the way of enemies ; but he was unfortunate in the practice of his own maxims, and often involved himself in quarrels. Scandals and disputes among other enlightened men led to the suppression of their order and to a reformation of the masons' lodges. Various reports of their abuses had been carried to Rome, and had called forth several papal allocutions against masonry. These were mostly founded on a want of information respecting the true Q 226 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUEE. [Cn. origin of the abuses introduced in the eighteenth century. Goethe, who was a freemason, always retained the notion of spreading new doctrines especially on education and general culture by means of brotherhoods or secret and benevolent societies including none but men of high character and training. Such brotherhoods are represented in the two didactic romances, Wilhelm Meister's Lehrjahre and Wanderjahre. The revolutionary spirit of the times could hope for no immediate success in German politics. There were two reasons that made innovation hopeless. In the first place, the power of the rulers in the several states had been firmly established on the division of the empire. In the second place, the German liberals were too often vague and unpractical theorists. Liberty is the exercise of power, and the result must wholly depend on the character of the power that is set free. The main cause of the failure of hopes of political liberation at the close of the eighteenth century was that they were borrowed ; the French were indebted for them to the Americans and the German Illuminati borrowed all their ideas from French theorists. Goethe's dislike of hasty political changes was founded on his observation of public events in the years 1770-93. Of the French Revolution he said, ' I see that some- thing different from the past must be the result ; but I cannot be sure that the change will be an improvement.' Of imitative and artificial revolutions he said at a later time ' nothing is good for a nation save what grows up out of its own life and its own wants and this must be quite distinct from any imitation of foreign examples. All attempts to import foreign innovations when there is no felt want of them in the national life, are therefore foolish, and all revolutions concerted in that way must be un- successful ; for such bad workmanship as that can never have God's approbation.' Political dreamers with whom Goethe was acquainted during his youth had suggested these conclusions. He remembered that the emperor Joseph II. had written in 1789 the words : ' now we shall have universal peace in Europe,' and the failure of that prophecy made a profound impression. But we must refer to some specimen of the dreamy patriots of the times in order to understand fully the poet's so-called political ' indifference.' Among his earlier friends he numbered the two brothers Von Stolberg already named as writers of verse with whom he made xvi.] POLITICS. 227 a tour in Switzerland in 1775. Christian, the elder brother, was a weak imitator of the younger, FRIEDEICH LEOPOLD GRAF VON STOLBERG (1750- 1819), who deserves to be noticed because his writings throw some light on the characteristics of his times. He was the most energetic of all the singers of liberty ; but his enthusiasm was as unreal as it was violent. Nothing could exceed the extravagant ravings of his odes on freedom and freethinking. They were like ' tales told by an idiot/ ' full of sound and fury,' and they signified nothing. In the song of a freethinker he calls on a tempest to come and be his companion, and next invites ' a whirlpool ' to his embraces ! Then he ascends into the sky and beyond the orbit of Arcturus, whence he look? forth upon ' torrents of annihilation rushing down upon globes and suns shivered to atoms.' Finally, the poet laughing with a bitter scorn flings himself down from Arcturus upon the frag- ments of the universe and there lies ' covered with midnight, ruins and horror ! ' This surely rivals Bottom's specimen of ' Ercles' vein j ' but, incredible as it may seem, Von Stolberg could write even worse nonsense than this. His climax is found in a ' Song of Freedom ' which contains passages too absurd and extravagant to be quoted. The worst still remains to be told ; for this violent declamation about liberty and drinking 'the blood of tyrants' was, after all, a mere dreamery and affectation. When divine freedom for which Von Stolberg had been calling, seemed likely to come and to take away from him his title and his estate, he declined, at once, the embraces of the goddess, sought shelter in the Romish Church and thence hurled forth an anathema on all Jacobins, Illuminati and levellers. He had never dreamed that the men beyond the Rhine had some practical meaning in their talk about equality, and as soon as he discovered his error, he hastened, with the zeal of a convert, to make an apology to the tyrants whom he had denounced. To return from politics to literature here also revolutionary notions prevailed, and were asserted as claims of men possessing original genius too powerful to be shackled by authority or criticism. The original geniuses of the age including Goethe who were loud in their declaration of independence and bold in their defiance of criticism, had some passable logic on their side. If the Berlin men of light might base their teaching on a thorough contempt for all the past, then surely inspired young 228 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. poets such men as Heinse, Goethe, Miiller, Klinger and Lenz, who were then all classed together as equals might be allowed to invent even a new kind of poetry, without paying respect either to the example of a Klopstock or the theory of a Lessing. Innovation, excluded from political life, had already attacked morals, manners, and religion, and might now be allowed to invade the realm of imaginative literature. So it was decreed, that the poetry of the past must be cast aside as a worn-out sort of manufacture. ' It was made, not inspired,' said Mauvillon and Unzer, two of the critics of the times, and their judgment was confirmed by Merck and Schlosser both friends of Goethe. All the young men of genius were agreed, that what was now wanted was a something new wonderful never dreamed of before in the world ! Such men as Lenz, Miiller and Klinger undertook to supply the poetry wanted for the future, and wrote quite enough f of it. In 1776 Klinger who afterwards became rational wrote ! a wild play called 'Sturm und Drang,' and these two words, : (meaning Storm and Pressure), were accepted as the name of the . period also known as ' the time of the original geniuses.' One of its odd features was the familiarity with which poetasters spoke of ' their brother-genius Shakspere ! ' If his true ghost had ap- peared to them as Wieland suggested they might possibly have been frightened into modesty. When they said that the poetry of the old times, 'was made, and not inspired,' they seemed to for- get that their own was for the most part neither inspired nor made. In several instances their lives were as wild as their notions of genius and poetry. Abstinence from reading and study and a disregard for the decencies of life were proofs of original genius. Some of the wildest of the poets rambled about, half- dressed, refused to comb their hair and as Jean Paul said 'thought it a disgrace to be seen in a library.' They were, in their own estimate, sound, healthy children of nature, and ' as free as nature first made man.' It is difficult now in Germany, where ' the stern realities of life ' are talked of as seriously as in England to revive, even in imagination, the characteristics of that time of ' Sturm und Drang,' when writing wild poetry was regarded as the object of life. Imaginative literature, which now supplies an occasional recreation for the student, then formed the chief bond of social intercourse for many young dreamers living in the neighbourhood of Weimar XVI.] 'STUKM UND DKANG.' 229 and Jena. How they were supported, while wasting their time in dreams, we are left to guess ; for of realities their poetry tells little. In what practical results their reveries ended we know too well in some cases of tragic failure of all the promises of youth. Hardships and misfortunes are everywhere ready to find victims among men who study the ideal before they have fought with the real, and it has been said of true poets, who, in their youth, ' begin with gladness,' that ' the end thereof is oft despondency and mad- ness ; ' but the history of the time of * Sturm und Drang ' was especially gloomy. Several instances of failure in practical life, among young men who began their career with literary ambition, might be ascribed to the character of the mental excitement that prevailed. That influence did not soon pass away, but remained in the days of the Romantic School. If we named here all the imaginative writers of the period 1770-1820 who died in their youth, or were especially unhappy in their lives ; those who fell into deep melancholy, and those who perished by suicide: the number would be dismally large. The reflections suggested by this historv of a literature out of harmony with practical life, having hardly any basis in religion, and uncontrolled by a patient study of art, are too im- portant to be dwelt upon here. It required a strong man, like Goethe, to come out, but slightly injured, from the excitement of that time of rash innovation. As we have said, he was then known only as one wild young poet among others, and such writers as the painter Miiller, Lenz, Wagner, and Klinger were his friends or his rivals. A solitary tragedy written by Leisewitz, and a work by Wezel one of the most miserable of the geniuses were both ascribed to Goethe, and he was classified with Heinse, the licentious and weak follower of Wieland. In his drama of ' Gotz von Berlichingen ' and in his ' Sorrows of Werther ' Goethe made himself responsible for some of the literary and moral errors of his times ; but his genius, even then, raised him far above his young cotemporaries. He had another advantage ; he was teachable, and when he went to Strassburg in 1770, he found a teacher in Herder who, with regard to some of his progressive but rather vague notions of the destiny of literature, might be classed with the men of the stormy time. Herder was not original in poetry, and for the germs of his philosophy he was indebted to Ilamann. In order to trace to its source the new intellectual 230 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. movement of the period we must refer to Goethe's ' Diddling und Wahrheit,' especially to his account of the teaching he received from Herder at the university of Strassburg. Here we find, in 1770, the most teachable of the young poets of the day, receiving instruction from an inferior mind one whose genius is receptive rather than creative. The teacher is a man with rounded features, a bold forehead, dark eyes and a mouth of pleasant expression, when he smiles. He would be, on the whole, good-looking, but he is suffering from a fistula in one of his eyes, for which he is expecting to undergo an operation. He wears a clerical dress, and too often speaks in the dictatorial tone of a schoolmaster, though he is only five years older than his pupil a young Apollo, with fine features and eyes of remarkable power, as may be seen even in the shade of the invalid's chamber. The teacher now twenty-six years old, has had a hard struggle with poverty during youth. His father, a very poor schoolmaster, could not afford to send him to a university; but he studied surgery and then went to Kb'nigsberg, where he attended Kant's lectures. Since then, he has been engaged as a schoolmaster and as a preacher ; but his favourite studies are poetry, literary history, and the history of culture. He is an enthusiastic believer in progress, and loves to preach about cosmopolitan philanthropy. It is one of his characteristics that, in his earnestness, he assumes an oracular tone which he does not put aside, though talking now, to no ordinary student, but to Johann Wolfgang Goethe, one of the original geniuses of the age. The latter is studying law at Strassburg ; but what is there that he has not studied ? Besides Latin and Greek, he reads French, knows something of Hebrew, and has read many books on pietism, mysticism, chemistry, alchemy, and the fine arts. Not long ago, he injured his health by his efforts to master the art of etching on copper. - His genius requires concentration, and Herder advises him to devote himself to the study of the popular poetry of all nations ! < What we want,' says Herder, ' is a poetry in harmony with " the voices of the peoples " and with the whole heart of mankind. Our studies must be cosmopolitan, and must include the popular poetry of the Hebrews, the Arabs, the mediaeval Franks, Germans, Italians and Spaniards, and even the songs and ballads of half , savage races. We must go back to the earliest times to educate ourselves, so that we may write poetry, not for a school, nor for a XVI.] HAMANN. 231 certain period, but for all men and for all time.' We see, in these ideas, that Herder belongs to the time of ' Sturm und Drang.' There must be a putting away of old things, and all things must be made new. Such teaching is rather vague, though Goethe listens to it with deep interest ; but when he asks for clear details he is not satisfied. Herder wishes to stimulate rather than to instruct his pupil. Several tracts, dingily printed on bad paper, are lying on the table; they have odd titles, such as JEstlietica in Nuce (1762), and Socratic Memorabilia (1759). But who, among the young poetical readers of the day, ever heard of the author's name Johann George Hamann ? When Goethe has opened one - of these odd tracts, and has tried to read it, he finds something that attracts attention, but he cannot understand it, and begs his friend to act as interpreter. Herder only laughs and says : ' you must read on, and you will come to the meaning.' Goethe is teachable ; so he carries away Hamann' s. rhapsodies and studies them. He soon finds in them some of Herder's own vague thoughts, but still more vaguely expressed. If they contain the elements of a future poetry, it is only as the mists and clouds of February may be said to enfold the germs of a latent summer. But Goethe reads on through the rhapsody on aesthetics, and is not seriously discouraged even by such passages as the following : Poetry is the mother tongue of the human race, and is older than prose, as gardening is older than agriculture, and painting older than writing ; or as song, parable, and barter are older than declamation, syllogism, and com- merce. A deep sleep was the rest of our primeval ancestors, and their exercise was a wild bacchanal dance. Seven days they would sit in the silence of thought or wonder, and then they opened their mouths and uttered inspired words. . . . Let the blame lie where it may outside or inside of us we find now in nature nothing more than sybilline leaves scattered, here and there ' disjecti membra poetce.' To collect them is the work of the scientific man ; the philosopher has to interpret them ; the poet must imitate them or a bolder aim ! must try to reduce them to harmony. . . . The . book of creation contains examples of universal thoughts revealed from God to his creatures by means of creatures, and the books of the covenant con- tain examples of the deeper wisdom which God is pleased to reveal to men by men. The unity of the Author is reflected in the several dialects of his works ; in all, what a tone of unmeasured height and depth ! Through other passages even more obscure than these Goethe must read patiently, in order to find out Hamann's meaning. But 232 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATURE. [On. something more must be said here of a writer to whom Herder and Goethe were indebted. JOHANN GEOKG HAMANN, born in 1730 at Konigsberg, was for some years engaged as a clerk, as a private tutor and as a com- mercial agent. He was unfortunate in the last-named capacity, and, after long enduring poverty, he gained a subordinate office under government and a small pension. His life was marked by strong contrasts. He was deeply religious ; but was not always correct in his morals. His principles were by no means ascetic. His faith, though strangely expressed, was orthodox, and he was a firm believer in the doctrine of the forgiveness of sins. While he was engaged as a commercial traveller, he visited London, where vexation on account of some unfortunate transactions led him into dissipated habits. He recovered his moral strength by reading the Bible ; or as he says (in a letter to his friend Jacobi), he was lifted out of despair by means of a few despised texts, ' as the prophet Jeremiah was raised from his dungeon by the aid of some cords and old rags.' Hamann's subsequent misfortunes were partly the result of his own imprudence ; for he was privately married to a poor village girl, while he was still in very needy circumstances, and he was heavily afflicted by the cares of his family. In his later years, several good friends including Jacobi and the princess Galitzin assisted him ; but their aid came late, when he was worn out by the adversities of his life. He died in 1788, at the house of the princess Galitzin, near Munster, and was buried in her garden, where a stone was erected to his memory. His friends and disciples styled him ' the Magus of the North.' Though he wrote mostly in an oracular style, such men as Herder, Goethe, Jacobi and Jean Paul Richter were numbered among his readers, and he was respected by Lessing, Moses Mendelssohn, and Kant. The main purport of his teaching may be briefly stated : Ha- mann was an enemy to the cold rationalism that prevailed in his day ; but he did not attempt to refute it by logic. He appealed to his own feelings and intuitions, and, therefore, must be classed with mystics. For him nature, the written word, and history, were the three forms of one revelation, and must be all studied in their concords. Hamann respected Kant, but rejected his exposition of religion as rationalistic or merely ethical, and on the same ground, he denounced the Berlin philosophy which, in fact, was nothing more than the deism of Voltaire put into German. The XVI.] HAMANN. 233 ' enlightened ' had opposed and ridiculed everything that was not commonplace. They disliked all such men as Hamann, Herder, and Jacobi, who talked of sentiments and inspiration. For Lessing, the Berlin men were compelled to feel some respect ; but in his later years, he cared very little for their good opinion, and was by no means satisfied with their negative notions about reli- gion. Hamann was the boldest opponent of the Berlin school, and though he uttered his protests in a rhapsodical style, his words had a good purport. He denounced self-conceit, negation and abstraction, and would have neither old traditions nor intuitions sacrificed to a logic based upon dogmatism. His views of the origin and the purport of poetry found an interpreter in Herder, and some of his religious principles may be seen reflected in the works of his friend, FEIEDRICH HEINKICH JACOBI, a writer who has been classed with German philosophers, though he had neither a system nor a method. His chief works the letters ' on Spinoza's Theory,' and the Essays on ' David Hume ' and ' on Divine Things and their Revelation ' are mostly controversial, but may be reduced to the assertion, that the truths of morals and religion are known only by intuition, or faith. Jacobi wrote also two imaginative works 'Edward AllwilPs Letters ' and ' Woldemar ' both rather didactic and sentimental than narrative. The purport of the latter is to show that a high and pure friendship may exist between persons of opposite sexes. As one of the early friends of Goethe and of other young literary men of the age, Jacobi exerted some important influence in his day. The respectful reserve and caution for which Goethe was remarkable in his references to the religious questions and interests of his times, and his dislike of theological and meta- physical controversies, may be partly ascribed to his acquaintance with Jacobi. It is, however, far clearer that Goethe, during his youth, was indebted to Herder, of whose theories and writings some further account must be given here. JOHANN GOTTFRIED HERDER, born in 1744, passed his youth in the needy circumstances already mentioned ; but gained a more favourable position in 1776, when Goethe recommended him to the Duke Karl August of Weimar, by whom he was appointed chaplain to the court and superintendent of the church district of Weimar. Here he mostly resided until his death, which took place in 1803. Some years afterwards the Duke erected, in memory of Herder, a monumental tablet with the inscription, 234 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUEE. [On. 'Light, Love, Life.' During tlie years when Goethe and Herder lived as neighbours in the metropolis of German literature, their friendship gradually declined ; for throughout his life, Herder never succeeded in laying aside the schoolmaster-like tone that had sometimes made his conversation disagreeable at Strassburg. His later years were overshadowed by melancholy, and after all his studies and his contributions to literature, he often sighed, ' Ah, my wasted life ! ' Herder's was a receptive genius and his sympathies were catholic. If any proof were wanted of Wordsworth's theory that a great poet differs from other imaginative men chiefly in the degree of his energy of imagination it might be found in Herder. He was a poet who required considerable aids from other minds, and his original poems are inferior to his versions of poems from many sources. By his ' Voices of the Peoples ' a series of free translations of the popular songs and ballads of several nations and by his ' Spirit of Hebrew Poetry ' (1782) he awakened a cosmopolitan taste in imaginative literature. In theology he was liberal, but less negative than the rationalists. His so-called philosophy, like that of his friends Hamann and Jacobi, was founded on faith and feeling, but it had no method, and he was quite out of his depth when he attempted to refute Kant. In his unfinished work, ' Ideas for a Philosophy of the History of Man- kind ' (1784-91) he suggested the aims and the outlines of that comprehensive study ; but his knowledge, though very extensive in some departments, was not equal to the task of filling up the out- lines of such a philosophy. His best work the popular songs and ballads of many nations is divided into six books, containing respectively, songs from the North, from the South, and from the North-west, Scandinavian lyrics, old German songs and some specimens of the poetry of half-savage tribes. It was characteristic of Herder that he accepted as genuine the poems ascribed to Ossian. In other translations and imitations he directed the attention of his readers to oriental poetry. The whole aim of his literary labours seemed to be to make the Germans forget the distinctive character of their own land and recognise themselves as citizens of the world. Such teaching was too readily accepted by Goethe. ' National literature,' said he, ' is of little importance : the age of a world-literature is at hand, and every one ought to work in order to accelerate the coming of this new era.' There is XVI.] HEEDER. 235 some truth in this; but it may be maintained also that distinct national literatures are wanted to make a true world-literature, just as distinct outlines and colours are required for a painting, however harmonious. A whole in which all the parts are absorbed and lost can have no life. Lessing, it is said, reformed style and made German poetry artistic ; but Herder inspired it with a new spirit and purport. This does not fairly and fully describe the difference between the two men. Lessing endeavoured at least in his ' Minna von Barnhelm ' to make poetic literature national, and it would have been well if that example had been followed. Whatever may be the advantages of cosmopolitan studies for the historian or the philosopher, they have a subordinate value in poetry. Who is there that would sacrifice one of Wordsworth's local poems closely attached for ever to one of his haunts in West- moreland and Cumberland, for the sake of any versions that he might have given us of oriental legends ? Why should not every nation, while cultivating an acquaintance with foreign literature, preserve its own distinct character ; or why should the expressions of poetic genius in various countries be less diversified than their climates and their vegetation ? We do not go to India to see the trees and the grasses of English valleys. ' A man who would do anything good in art,' says Goethe, ' must hold himself within his proper bounds ; ' and so must a nation. These are consider- ations that may, perhaps, tend to limit praises bestowed on the vague universalism of Herder. In his times German poetry had a wide enough field to wander in without travelling into all the four quarters of the globe in search of topics. For how little had been told of a land where the enthusiasm of the crusades, the contests of Rome with the Empire, the struggle of the towns with the barons, and such events as occupied the centuries from the thirteenth to the seventeenth, had been hardly described, save by dry chroniclers. From all this life and reality Herder turned attention away to meditations on universal history, and his ex- ample had a considerable effect on his cotemporaries and his followers. ' With regard to his style, Herder cannot, for a moment, be com- pared with Lessing. It must be allowed, that in treating of such themes as the spirit and purport of poetry, he was more exposed to the danger of falling into vagueness than Lessing could be when writing of form and construction; but, even when he 236 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. professes to be critical, Herder is too often declamatory. He is a preacher who appeals to his own feelings for a proof that he rightly interprets the scriptures. His sentiments will not allow his thoughts to develope themselves clearly. His views are very wide, but, like pictures cast on a screen by a magic lantern, they lose in light and definition as much as they gain in extent. Her- der was chiefly remarkable for the animating influence he exerted on the minds of several of his cotemporaries. xvii.] 'GOTZ VON BEKLICHINGEN: 237 CHAPTER XVII. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. 4 GOTZ VON BERLICHINGEN ' ' WERTHER's LEIDEN ' THE MEN OF 'STURM TJND DBANG' THE HAINBUND PROSE WRITERS. IN 1773, the drama of 'Gotz von Berlichingen ' was published without the author's name, and was generally received with enthusiastic admiration. In several respects it realised the ideal desiderated by ' the originals,' or the literary men of revolutionary tendencies. It was a national drama, and the character of its hero, Gotz of the iron hand, one of the latest survivors of the old Eitterthum (knighthood), was not too remote from popular sympathies. He had supported the Reformation, and had given proofs of manly generosity during the Peasants' War. In his biography written by himself, he describes in a tone of childlike innocence such exploits as would now be called robberies, and the frank and kind expression of the author's portrait can leave no doubt of his sincerity. He lived in the days when the princes were making use of the Reformation as a pretext for exalting them- selves on the ruins of the Ritterthum, and he fought, as he believed, for the right. Goethe departed rather widely from the facts of his hero's autobiography, and gave expression in Gotz to some of the revolutionary notions prevalent when the drama ap- peared. The play was written in defiance of the rules of the French drama, and therefore was hailed as being in accordance with Lessing's theory and Klopstock's patriotism ; while ' the originals ' the men who would derive all their morality from crude nature were charmed by the scene in which ' brother Martin ' declaims against monasticism. On the other hand, Gotz gave offence to all admirers of the French theatre, including the king, who spoke of the new national drama as ' a detestable imiui- 238 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEEATUKE. [CH. tion of bad English plays,' and 'full of disgusting platitudes.' This critique might have been fairly applied, in all its severity, to a series of wild, shapeless ' Bitter dramas,' called into existence by the success of Gotz. Nothing indeed can be said in favour of the model itself as a work of art ; for it is only a series of scenes, each having a separate life and interest. Its greatest and most permanent merit is found in its truly popular style. A still greater success followed the publication of the senti- mental romance, ' The Sorrows of Werther,' which first appeared, without the author's name, in 1774, and being soon translated into several languages was circulated throughout Europe. Some parts of the work were, doubtless, founded on the writer's own experience ; but it must be remembered that he was a Proteus in his sympathies. The fate of Jerusalem, a young man with whom Goethe had had but a slight acquaintance, was described in con- nection with several fictitious circumstances. The heroine Char- lotte one of Goethe's friends when he lived at Wetzlar was afterwards married to a man whose character was falsely supposed to be represented by that of ' Albert,' the weak husband in the romance. The public accepted the ' Sorrows of Werther ' as a faithful biography of Jerusalem, and for a time, the incidents of the story were talked of as well-known facts that had taken place at Wetzlar. ' Lotte ' afterwards, Frau Kestner became cele- brated as a heroine, while her husband felt annoyed because it was imagined that he had been described under the disguise of Albert. Travellers came to Wetzlar to find some relics of the melancholy man who died for love, and the landlord of an inn there, to please his visitors, raised a small mound of earth in his garden, and, for a trifling gratuity, exhibited it as ' the grave of the unfortunate Werther.' All the blame of this extravagance must not be cast on Goethe. His sentimental romance was the effect of a literary epidemic that might be traced back at least as far as to the English novels of Richardson, whose influence had been very extensive in Germany. Even such a recluse meta- physician as Kant had loved to read of the sorrows of ' Pamela ' and ' Clarissa Harlowe.' Many of the enthusiastic admirers of ' Werther ' were readers who thought Ossian a greater poet than Homer. A dreamy sentimentality prevailed, and Goethe sympa- thised with the feeling. The epidemic was spread, but was not created, by Goethe's romance. It was a dream of his youth ' WERTHER; 239 a morbid dream. Schopenhauer, the arch cynic, regrets that Goethe employed his genius so often to write of love, but admits that the topic is hardly to be avoided ; for, says he gravely, ' it will intrude itself everywhere, disturbing the plans of statesmen, and the meditations of philosophers.' Wolfram von Eschenbach, in his ' Titurel,' had long before made the same apology, but in a far more poetical style. It must be admitted, however, that the tendency of Goethe's earliest romance was enervating, and he was soon convinced of his error. He then wrote his ' Triumph of Sentimentality ' as a satirical antidote to ' Werther ; ' but the medicine had no great effect. The romance had been recommended, not only by its purport, but also by its excellent style, of which one proof is the facility with which it may be translated into French. It is hardly necessary to add that ' Werther ' was followed by a crowd of imitations barely worth mentioning. Among them the tedious romance of 'Siegwart' by JOHANN MARTIN MILLER, might be referred to as one that enjoyed a remarkable popularity. We notice a few other inferior writers of fiction in these times, because their productions serve to show by contrast the merits of Goethe and Schiller, whose best works were written in defiance of the degraded taste that prevailed in their days. We cannot fairly estimate such works as ' Iphigenia ' and ' Wilhelm Tell,' if we know little or nothing of the lower poetical literature that found numerous admirers, from the days of Klinger and Lenz to the times when Iffland and Kotzebue had possession of the German stage. Goethe's young cotemporaries belonged to two classes the men of the Gb'ttingen School (the ' Hainbund '), and ' the originals,' already generally described. It is among the latter that we find the more prominent characteristics of the imaginative literature of the age. Its worst errors may be sufficiently indicated by a brief reference to the writings of WILHELM HEINSE (1749-1803), who in his youth was patronised by father Gleim, and afterwards was an imitator of Wieland. It is enough to mention his romance of ' Ardinghello and the Fortunate Islands ' as a specimen of debased fiction, of which the contents are as impure as the treatment is unartistic. The less offensive parts of the book consist of some dreamy attempts to describe works of art. To pass over all the worst parts of the story its sentimentality on the subject of 210 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEKATUEE. [Cu. friendship may be noticed as one of the errors from which even the early writings of Goethe are comparatively free. There is nothing real and manly in Heinse's notions of friendship, and his language is so full of bad taste that it can hardly be quoted. This is the style in which he represents the sudden formation of ' an everlasting bond of friendship ' ' he sprang up from his chair so violently that the glasses were knocked off the table, as he ex- claimed ; " Oh happy, singular, wonderful coincidence ! so young, so handsome, and so full of good sense and experience ! we must be friends for evermore ! nothing shall part us darling of my soul ! " ' When we turn to notice another prevalent fault the taste for such violent, unartistic writing as is now called ' sensational ' we see at once, the distance existing between Goethe and his young cotemporaries, the dramatic authors, Lenz and Klinger. About the time when he was writing ' Gotz von Bejpchingen,' Goethe became acquainted with these sensational playwrights. They had read Shakspere, and had been carried away by the vehemence of his dramatic po^er, but had learned nothing of the art by which that power was controlled. The result was that they wrote some deplorable dramas, which, however, found ad- mirers. .TOHANN REINHOLD LENZ, born in 1750, studied at Konigsberg, and was for some time employed as a private tutor before he came to Weimar. There he made himself noticeable for his defiance of the conventions of polite society, and was soon compelled to leave the town. He afterwards lived at Zurich and in Russia, was afflicted with insanity, and died in very miserable circumstances in 1792. In his dramas such as 'Der Hofmeister/ and 'Die Soldaten' (1774-76) he mingled comedy with tragedy, and treated with an equal contempt the rules of art, and those of decency. His cotemporary FRIEDRICH MAXIMILIAN VON KLINGER, born in 1752, was a far stronger man in intellect and character, and bis worst personal eccentricity, during youth, seems to have been his dislike of a complete suit of clothes. But this is only what was said by Wieland who was the enemy of all men of Klinger's school. After visiting Weimar, where Goethe treated him kindly, Klinger was engaged for some time in writing for the Leipzig theatre. His dramas ' Sturm und Drang,' ' Die Zwillinge,' ' Konradin/ ' Der Giinstliug ' and otliur.s are, with regard to their XVIL] KLIXGEK. 241 offences against good taste, worse than his didactic romances though these are also destitute of moderation and sobriety. HLs purport in most of his prose-fictions is severely moral; but he thinks it necessary to teach ethics by exposing crimes and miseries in all their bare deformity, and by the use of unchastened language, such as we find in t Faust's Life, Actions and Doom.' Klinger's best romance ' the Man of the World, and the Poet ' (1798) is morose and misanthropic in its tone, but contains useful warnings for idle dreamers. In his 'Meditations and Thoughts on the "World and on Literature ' (1802), he gives his severe notions on ethics in a style less tedious than that of his romances. Of these it will be enough to notice very briefly one ' Faust ' as a specimen of the taste for denionology prevalent in Klinger's day. When Faust is summoned to his doom, he defies the arch enemy in words so daring that, says Klinger : ' never since Pandemonium was founded, was there such a silence as now reigned throughout the abodes of everlasting lamentation ! ' In short, Faust frightened all the demons. In another passage, when the tempter appears in his true form before his victim, the scene is thus described : * Satan towers up to a gigantic height ; his eyes glow like thunder-clouds from which the beams of the setting sun are reflected ; his breathings are like the sighings of a tempest through chasms, when the crust of the earth is burst open ; the earth groans beneath his feet, and his hair, through which a storm is raving, floats around his head like the tail of a threatening comet ! ' Another of the young men classed with ' the originals,' the painter, FRIEDRICH M VILER (1750-1823) treated the same subject in his 'Faust ' but hardly with such energy as Klinger displayed. In ' Genoveva,' a drama, and in several of his ballads and idylls, Miiller wrote in a natural and popular style, and, in some respects, anticipated the tendencies of the Romantic School in poetical literature. FRIEDRICH DANIEL SCHUBART, born in 1739, may be mentioned here ; for though he was not personally associated with the writers above named, his characteristics belong mostly to the time of titiirm und Drang. He was a Suabian schoolmaster, and a man of versatile abilities. At one time he supported himself as a teacher of music, then as a public reciter of poetry, and lastly, as the editor of a newspaper die Deutsche Chronik, notorious for its audacity. Writers of Schubart's biography have described him, on one side, as a dissolute man, on the other, as a patriot. He had R 242 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. good talents for music and poetical declamation and was often well paid for his services; but he had everywhere the misfortune of finding: or making enemies. He was expelled from his place as organist at Ludwigsburg for writing a parody on the litany. After that he was patronised at Mannheim, but soon made himself unwelcome there, and his usual bad fortune haunted him when he went to Miinchen. Then he started ' the German Chronicle ' at Augsburg, where he had a brilliant success as a reciter of poetry. Again he made enemies, and was driven away to Him, where he continued to publish his paper. Having given offence to the Duke of Wiirtemberg, the editor of the chronicle was enticed into the domains of that ruler and there was sentenced, without any form of trial, to suffer ten years' imprisonment. In his own account of this transaction he wrote, with some pathos, of his separation from his family ; but he forgot to confess that he had been a careless husband and father. The imprisonment was a most despotic act ; but it should be added that Schubart's faithful wife and his family were better cared for while he was kept in confinement than they had been sometimes when he was at liberty to provide for their wants. After his release, he returned to his old habits of dissi- pation, and died in 1791. In literature he partly represents a taste for the grotesque and horrible, expressed in ballads beginning with such lines as : ' See you the blood-stain on the wall ? ' or, ' Ha ! here's one bone and here's another ! ' Goethe, in his grotesque ballad, ' the Skeletons' Dance/ showed that, if he chose, he could excel Schubart in this sensational style : ' Then ah ! what a dance in the churchyard lone ! And oh ! what a clatter of bone upon bone.' Schubart's poem, entitled ' the Vault of the Princes ' was gene- rally admired in his day. A few verses may serve to show another literary trait of the times, declamation on the wickedness of ruling families : ' And here they lie ! these ashes of proud princes, Once clad in bright array; Here lie their bones all in the dismal glimmer Of the pale dying day. XVII.] THE 'HAINBUND.' 243 And their old coffins in the vault are gleaming Like rotten timber, side by side ; And silver family-shields are faintly shining Their last display of pride. Oh, wake them not the scourges of their race, Earth has for them no room ! Soon, soon enough will over them be rattling The thunders of their doom.' Though their offences against good taste, morals and rules of art were hardly pardonable, the sensational poets, already so often referred to, were progressive in some of their innovations, and an excuse may be found for their extravagance when it is contrasted with the tameness of the so-called poetry of the ' Hainbund.' This union, the latest of formal associations of literary men in the times of Klopstock, was formed by several young students of GSttingen, and in a manner suited to their sentimental taste. They were assembled one evening, near a clump of oak- trees in a field, while the moon was shining clearly. Here they agreed together to form a school for the culture of patriotic poetry, and pledged themselves to act honestly towards each other in their exchanges of criticism. Their meeting ended with the ceremony of crowning themselves with oak-leaves. In nationality they endeavoured to make themselves worthy followers of Klopstock. On the anniversary of his birthday (1773) they assembled to honour their master, and on the same occasion, they burned Wieland's portrait and some of his writings. Both the ' Hainbund ' men and the men of Sturm und Drang disliked Wieland; the former, because he had introduced a foreign and licentious taste ; the latter, because he cared for rules of art and had common-sense enough to know that Klinger was not a second Shakspere. On the whole, the Gottingen men of the ' Hainbund ' were conservatives in poetry, and their representative, Voss, wrote bitterly against all the inno- vations of the original geniuses and against those of their successors, the Romantic School. But the ' Hainbund ' produced no great poets. Burger, the most powerful of the men associated with the union, was not, strictly speaking, one of its members. "With regard to his cultivation of a popular style in ballads, he might be reckoned among Herder's disciples, while in other respects, he was associated with the sensational school. GOITFBIED AUGUST BURGEB, bom on the first day of 1748, 244 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. studied at Halle and Gottingen, and, during his youth, -was at- tracted by the charms of English poetry ; especially by Shak- ppere's plays and Percy's ballads. Of the latter he translated several, but deviated considerably from their simplicity, in order to suit a taste for so-called poetic diction. Burger's practical life was irregular and unhappy. However great his sins might have been, he was severely punished in his third marriage. A senti- mental and frivolous woman pretended to be fascinated by some of his poerns, and wrote to him in verse, offering her services as a mother to his three children. He was weak enough to accept the offer, but he soon bitterly repented. This third wife made him wretched for two years and then left him, about the time when his literary reputation was attacked by the severest criticism ever written by Schiller. There was only one consolation left for Burger his death, which took place in 1794. It was a miserable spectacle to see the woman who had embittered his last four years, when, after his decease, she travelled about the country and made small profits by reciting his ballads with affected pathos. Burger had great merits of style and versification. His wild, spectral ballad of 'Leonora' was rapidly spread through Germany and soon translated into several languages. An English version was Sir Walter Scott's first publication. Other ballads, such as ' Lenardo and Blandine ' and ' the Pastor's Daughter of Tauben- hain ' were generally admired for their graphic and popular style, though in some respects they were severely criticised. Several of Burger's songs are good, and his sonnets are excellent. The opinions of critics have been divided respecting the poet's general merits. Those who have praised him highly have spoken chiefly of his best ballads and of a few of his lyrical poems, while they liave studied rather the style than the purport of his poetical works. Others, who have viewed his poems as a whole, and have had regard to their purport, as well as to their fluent versification, have censured the poet for his want of refinement, and for such passages of inflation or bad taste as are found in his Hitter Karl von Eiclicnhorst, Frau Schnips, ' the Rape of Europa,' and even in one of his prettiest lyrical poems, c the Hamlet.' But however critics may differ on the general merits of Burger, they must agree in praising his melodious versification which, though it has the characteristics of ease and simplicity, was the result of careful study. Klopstock, in his old age, when talking with Wordsworth, XVJL] VOSS. 245 expressed his belief that Biirger was a more genuine poet than either Goethe or Schiller. This strange judgment was pronounced in 1798, when Schiller had published his finest ballads. JOHAXX HEIXRICH Voss (1751-1820) the best scholar among the men of the ; Ilainbund,' was far more respectable as a trans- lator of Homer than as an original poet. He wrote in tedious hexameter verses a long idyll-epic called ' Luise ' (1784), which suggested to Goethe the form of his ' Hermann and Dorothea.' In other respects, these two poems should hardly be named on one page. It has been absurdly said that the notion of domestic ' comfort ' is peculiarly English, but the whole purport of one of the idylls of Yoss is to expatiate on the snug and soothing circum- stances of a country parson. Voss was a great enemy of all romance and mysticism, and admired a clear, didactic tendency, such as is well adapted for catechisms and reading-books in elementary schools. He Avas an industrious man of highly respect- able character and scholarship, but was intensely prosaic, and avoided, not only everything that could be called fantastic and unreal, but almost every thought that would lise above the level of commonplace. His rural epic ' Luise,' is divided into three idylls : in the first, a walk through a wood is described ; then the pastor of Griinau the heroine's father joins his family in a pic-nic party on the bank of a stream, and, when every minute incident of the excursion has been tediously described, all the insipid characters return to the vicarage. The second idyll is hardly more lively, for here a young man named Walter (of whom we know nothing more than that he is betrothed to Luise) pays a visit to the old parson of Griinau and finds Luise fast asleep. In the third idyll Walter and Luise are married. No reason what- ever is assigned why the reader should feel sympathy with any of the characters introduced, for they are hardly distinguished by more than their names, and they all talk the same commonplaces. Voss was proud of this idyll-epic, and preferred his own creation, 'Luise,' to Goethe's heroine, 'Dorothea.' 'They may say what they please in favour of Dorothea,' said Voss, ' she is not my Luise,' a statement afterwards universally accepted, though not in the sense the author intended. Voss was the representative of a class of versifiers, including such names as NeufTer, Kosegarteii and Schmidt, whose chief characteristic was their extreme home- liness. Take away all the poetry, humour and sentiment from 246 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. some passages of Goldsmith's 'Deserted Village' and the 'Vicar of Wakefield,' and leave only some descriptions of homely articles of furniture, and the result might be something like the idylls written by Voss. As they must be ranked thus low in art, it is pleasant to say anything in favour of their moral purport. They express contentment in circumstances of moderate prosperity, and such natural piety as is likely to be fostered by a general sense of comfort. The names of a few other associates of the 'Haiubund' might be mentioned here, but it is enough to say that they hardly rose above mediocrity. There might be found one or two exceptions to this statement. JOHAXX ANTOX LEISEWITZ (1752-1800) wrote one tragedy, Julius von Tarent, which was praised by Lessing and contained some passages of powerful pathos. MATTHIAS CLAUDIUS, (1740-1815) known also by his pseudonym ' Asmus,' wrote several good lyrics expressive of simple pious feelings, such as are found in his ' Evening Hymn ' and his ' Peasant's Evening Song.' His Itheiinceinlied is national and popular. Enough has been said of inferior poetical writers to indicate the literary tendencies of the times when Goethe was educating him- self as a poet. A few years passed away, and the author of ' Gotz ' and ' the Sorrows of "Werther ' had left far behind him the wild nature-worship of his youth, and had produced such true works of art as 'Iphigenia,' 'Egmont,' 'Tasso,' as well as some parts of ' Faust ' and many beautiful lyrical poems and ballads. Before we attempt to give an account of this second period in Goethe's literary biography, it may be well to notice the works of a few prose-writers belonging to the earlier part of the period 1770-1830. Among writers of harmless and amusing fictions JoHANxMus^us (1735-87), the author of many stories founded on old popular legends may be mentioned with some praise of his lively and fluent style, though his best work, a series of Fairy Tales, has been cast into the shade by the later collections of old popular myths, edited, as Kinder-und Hausnuirchen, by the brothers Grimm. On the ground that harmless fairy tales are better than misrepresentations of real life, we may leave unnamed many empty novels and wild romances containing neither truth nor poetry. A romance written in the form of ' Travels in the South of France ' by MORITZ AUGUST vox THUHMEL (1738-1817) was distinguished from the crowd by its lively style, and by some true observations of life in France, XVII.] PROSE WRITERS. 247 but it was partly based on Wieland's notions of morals and con- tained some imitations of Sterne's ' Sentimental Journey.' Another imitator of Sterne was THEODOR GOTTLIEB VON HIPPEL (1741-96), the writer of some books partly narrative and auto- biographical but mostly didactic, in which there is no want of versatile talent, though order and clearness of arrangement are utterly neglected. If we may trust Hippel's biographers, his life was a series of contradictions and in its want of logical sequence was like his writings. To gain the means of supporting himself .and a wife, he studied law, and with such industry and success that he gained what might be called wealth in his times, but instead of marrying, as he had intended, he contented himself with writing a book ' On Matrimony,' in which he laid down rules for, the conduct of husbands and wives. It is noticeable as being one of the earliest arguments in favour of ' the emancipation of women.' Imitation of Sterne is found merely in the erratic form of Hippel's works. His best thoughts were borrowed from Kant, whose lectures he had attended. The eccentricity of Sterne was more closely imitated in f Tobias Knaut, ' a strange romance, at one time falsely ascribed to Wieland, who did however write a favourable review of it. The author, JOHANX KARL WEZEL, who wrote .several other fictions and some plays, was afflicted, in 1786, with a delusion of the most extraordinary nature. He placed over a .series of his own works in his library the inscription Opera Dei Wezelit, retired from society into profound solitude, und remained in this state of mind until his death, which took place in 1819. It was characteristic of the times that one of Wezel's works was ascribed to Goethe. Many examples might be quoted from the novelists and romance writers, of morbid thought and sentiment, of license supposing itself to be liberty, and of extravagance mistaken for a proof of genius. The chief characteristic of numerous productions in prose- fiction was their total want of union with practical life and its realities. The words sobriety and moderation, when applied to literature, were in these times regarded as severe terms of reproach. One of the most extravagant and absurd fictions, ' the Adventures of Baron Miinchhausen,' may be named here, because its authorship has been falsely ascribed to the poet Burger. The true author, Rudolf Erich Ilaspe (1737-94) was a librarian who, after com- jnitting a robbery at Cassel, escaped in 1775 to London, where he 248 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUKE. [On. wrote in English, beside other books, the above-named extrava- ganza, which was translated into German by Bitrger in 1787. In leaving the department of prose-fiction and passing to that of didactic prose, we may mention a narrative writer whose works, though partly imaginative, were doubtless founded on realities. JOHANN HELNRICH JUNG, otherwise known as STILLING, the son of a poor tailor and schoolmaster, was born in 1740. After enduring many privations, he went to Strassburg, where he became acquainted with Goethe, from whom he probably received some help in the authorship of the book entitled ' Heinrich Stilling's Youth.' It was so successful that it was soon followed by several other stories of the same class, all mostly founded on the early experiences of the writer. There may be some doubt where fact ends and fiction begins in these stories, but the individuality of several of the characters introduced leaves no doubt of their reality. The village pastor who studies alchemy, and becomes melancholy in his old age; his opposite, the surly and proud parson who keeps a ferocious dog, and calls his parishioners clodhoppers and boors ; Johann Stilling, the genius of the family, who ponders long on the quadrature of the circle, and grandfather Stilling, who, in extreme old age, climbs cherry-trees and helps to thatch cottages ; these are no literary inventions, but true recol- lections of the author's youthful days. The trust in Divine Providence so often expressed in the stories of the Stilling Family was the chief trait in the author's own character. His misfortunes served only to confirm his faith. When his failures in some other endeavours had led him to study ophthalmic surgery and when he became celebrated for his successes in operating for cataract, he felt sure that Heaven had led him to his choice of a profession. Though a Pietist, he was neither narrow nor bigoted. With regard to both his breadth of sympathy and his childlike credulity, he might be classed with another of Goethe's early friends, the eccentric mystic, pietist, gossip, preacher, patriot and physiogno- mist, Lavater. JOHANN KASPAR LAVATEE, born in 1741 at Ziirich, was an enthusiastic preacher, who gained his literary reputation chiefly by his treatise on the supposed science of 'Physiognomy.' His lively and declamatory style and his firm belief in his own skill in detecting the characters of men made his book amusing. As the shrewd satirist Lichtenberg said, ' Lavater could find more sense- XVII.] LAVATEK. 249 in the noses of several authors than the public could find in all their "books.' He was as hardy in his assertions as in fulfilling his duties as a pastor and a patriot. When Zurich was occupied by French troops, Lavater preached boldly against the tyranny of the Directory and published the substance of his discourses. He was engaged in reproving the violence of the soldiery in the streets of that town, in 1799, when he was shot by a French grenadier. The patriot's sufferings were severe, and he was not released by death until 1801. It was characteristic of the times that Lavater, on account of his enthusiastic piety, was suspected of being asso- ciated with the Jesuits. iSo charge could be more absurd. His errors belonged to the head and not to the heart. He was exceedingly credulous and was fond of gossip. His religious works, of which an indescribable treatise called ' Pontius Pilate ' is the chief, are written in a fluent but incoherent style. Perhaps the most amusing of all his books is his (so-called) ' Private Diary,' published in 1772, full of confessions of such sins as wasting his time on light literature and in gossiping, followed, here and there, by such a reflection as, 'Do you call this living for eternity?' Lavater was acquainted with almost all the leading literary men of his times, except Lessing, and loved to give aid and encourage- ment to every good movement. He was, in short, a fanatic utterly destitute of the passion of hatred, and, if only on that account, would deserve to be remembered. This pious man was made a butt of ridicule by a clever and humorous writer, already named, GEORGE LICHTE^BERG (1742-99) author of a commentary on the works of our great painter Hogarth. Lichtenberg's chief studies were scientific, and his light and fragmentary essays were merely his recreations. ' I once lived,' he says, ' in a house where one of the windows looked into a narrow shady lane running from one street to another. There I noticed that passengers, on stepping out of the strong daylight of the street into the dusky little thoroughfare, would suddenly change their expression. The 'man who had been smiling in the street would look grave when he stepped into the shade of the lane, or the demure tradesman would smile slyly, as if he had just gained the advantage in a bargain. Here was a' puzzle for Lavater. Would he trust the face in the street or the face in the lane ? ' This may serve as a specimen of the satire levelled against Lavater's new science of physiognomy. He certainly deserved ridicule, for nothing could be more presump- 250 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. tuous and arbitrary than many of his assertions ; for example, the following on the features of Jesuits : Let a Jesuit disguise himself as he may, a skilful physiognomist will easily detect him by three signs the forehead, the nose, and the chin. The first is generally boldy convex and not angular, but rather capacious ; the nose is commonly large, more or less Roman, and has a strong cartilage ; the chin is rounded and prominent. ... It is a remarkable fact that among so many Jesuits who are men of great erudition, you will hardly find one truly philosophical head. Among the writers of criticism who were associated with Herder and Goethe two may be mentioned, with regard rather to their personal influence than to the value of their writings. JOHANN GEORG SCHLOSSER, born in 1739, the friend and brother-in-law of Goethe, edited a critical journal published at Frankfort (in 1772 and afterwards) to which Herder and Goethe were contributors. JOHANN HEINRICH MERCK, born in 1741, maintained an extensive correspondence with the chief literary men of his times, and exer- cised the influence of a teacher over his junior friend Goethe, on whom he impressed one maxim, never forgotten that a man of genius needs education. Merck was very unfortunate in his domestic and financial affairs in the later years of his life, and perished ~bj his own hand in 1791. Of the merits of the greatest among didactic authors in these times, IMJIANTJEL KANT, born in 1724 at Ko'nigsberg, no adequate estimate can be given in these outlines of general literature. His metaphysical doctrines belong to a closely connected system of reasonings begun by Hume and ended, as some writers have said, by Hegel. By the publication of his lectures on morals and aesthetics, Kant made a great impression on the general literature of the decennium following 1781. In opposition to the doctrine that would base all morality upon calculations of utility, he asserted the authoritative character of the moral principle in the conscience of man. It is, as he contended as superior to all our likings and our interests, as the law that rules the solar system is superior to the masses which it governs. 'Two things,' said Kant, ' fill the soul with wonder and reverence, increasing evermore as I meditate more closely upon them ; the starry heavens above me, and the moral law within me.' He goes on to argue, that if the moral law is authoritative, it implies the existence of a moral governor, and postulates the immortality of the soul and a future XVII.] KANT. 251 state of rewards and punishments. Hence religion is inseparably united with ethics, and in the ratio of his own rise or fall as a moral agent, a man's faith in God must rise or fall. The substance of Kant's ethical doctrine may be found in the sermons of Joseph Butler, Bishop of Durham. Wordsworth, in his sublime 'Ode to Duty,' had probably some recollection of the passage above quoted when he wrote the lines : Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong, And the most ancient heavens through Thee are fresh and strong. The didactic writings of Kant served to refute some popular arguments in favour of natural theology which had been employed by Reimarus and other authors of the rationalistic school. Man cannot, either by the logic of his own understanding, or by his searchings throughout nature, 'find out God/ said Kant, as the writer of the book of Job had said in old times. This doctrine was entirely opposite to the teaching of many rationalists and natural theologians. They had taught that clear, religious know- ledge might be obtained by a study of nature, and that duty was only a name for self-interest well understood. Hence Kant's ethical teaching excited in Berlin and elsewhere the controversy to which we have already referred. Of his three chief works ; the ' Critique of Pure Reason ' (1781), the ' Critique of Practical Reason ' (1787), and the ' Critique of the Faculty of Judgment ' (1790), the last is, perhaps, the best example of his style. Kant's life was that of a retired thinker, but his principles were not ascetic. 'Act so that men might induce from your example a universal rule of action,' is the summary of his ethics. The teacher who laid down that law was eminently truthful and honourable in his own practical life, and was as remarkable for his content- ment. He was never married, and hardly ever left his native town, where he possessed a small house and a garden in a quiet street. He had no large library, though he was a very extensive reader, especially in works of travels and geography. His patience could grapple with the long novels of Richardson, and he admired Rousseau's writings. After a life of almost uninterrupted health and quietude, Kant died in his native place, February 12, 1804. 252 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. CHAPTER XVIII. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. ' EGMOXT ' ' IPHIGEXIA ' ' TASSO ' ' HKEMAXX AND DOROTHEA.' NOT soon will the world see again such a union of poetry and art with practical life as existed during the half-century of Goethe's residence at Weimar. The town and its neighbourhood were improved and beautified ; abuses in the administration of law were removed, and several good plans of political reform were converted into facts; men of genius and learning were saved from their hard struggle for bread ; the university of Jena was made great and celebrated, and the poverty left by war was relieved. Then art and literature appeared in their true place, not as substitutes for work, but as its reward, and as attendants of hours of leisure afforded by a faithful fulfilment of duties. GOETHE had already obtained a wide reputation when he accepted, in 1775, from the young prince KAKL AUGUST of Saxe- Weirnar an invitation to his court, where, in the following year, he was appointed Counsellor of the Embassy, with a seat and a vote in the privy council. Thus began a friendship which endured for fifty years. Weimar, with its pleasant valley of the Ilm, its park and garden at Belvedere, and its rural retreat at Ilmenau, was a charming residence for a poet who loved both work and repose. Here, placed in independent circumstances, he could develope his plan of writing only for his own satisfaction and of waiting patiently for the world's expression of its judgment. How much both Goethe and Schiller owed to the retreat and quietude they enjoyed at Weimar can hardly be estimated. The former, though no servile courtier, valued highly these advantages of his position. ' What has made Germany great,' he says, ' but the culture which is spread through the whole country in such a marvellous manner and per- XVIII.] ' EGMONT.' 253 vades all parts of the realm ? And does not this culture emanate from the numerous courts which grant it support and patronage?' There are many Germans who would dissent from Goethe's conclusions. They must, however, admit that the best works of Goethe and Schiller were not, at first, patronised by the German people, but were written in defiance of a popular taste which was satisfied with the dramatic writings of Kotzebue and Iffland, to say nothing of ' Rinaldo Rinaldini ' and the rest of the deplorable ' robber-romances ' of the time. Soon after he had removed to Weimar, Goethe began to write the drama of ' Egmont,' founded on passages in the history of the revolt of the Netherlands. It has, in some parts, strong popular and political interest, but its chief attraction for many readers is in the scenes where Egmont appears with the heroine Clarchen. These must be simply described as charming, and were evidently suggested by the poet's own experience. The defect of the drama is that Clarchen calls the attention of the reader away from the idea of liberty to which the hero's life is sacrificed. A conciliation of the two chief motives of the play takes place, however, in the last scene, where Cliirchen appears as the Spirit of Liberty and arrayed in all the charms of youth and beauty ; but the mode in which this is effected is, as Schiller observed, more suitable for an opera than for a tragedy. Egmont, sentenced to death, falls into a deep sleep in the dungeon. In his dream, the walls expand, the place is filled with radiance, and the brave and beautiful maiden appears, to cheer the prisoner with a prophecy that, by his death, he shall win freedom for his native land. This dream, externally represented as a vision, is seen by the spectators, at the same time when it appears to the sleeper. In spite of its operatic conclusion, ' Egmont ' is one of the most popular of the poet's dramatic writings. In the course of rather more than ten years after he began to write 'Egmont,' Goethe produced, beside comedies, operettas, lyrical poems and ballads, the greater part of the didactic romance Wilhdm Meisters Lehijahre, and the dramas ' Iphigenia ' and ' Tasso.' Among numerous proofs of the poet's breadth of sym- pathy, hardly any can be found more remarkable, than that he published ' the Sorrows of Werther ' in 1774 and wrote ' Iphigenia ' (in prose), in 1779. It was first acted in the Duke's private theatre at Weimar ; Goethe took the part of Orestes, and Thoas 3o 254 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. and Pylades were respectively represented by Yon Knebel and the Duke Karl August. The drama was not completed in verse until 1786, when the poet was travelling in Italy. Apart from all considerations of popularity or fitness for thea- trical representation, ' Iphigenia ' may be described as the author's most artistic drama. All its parts are closely united, its motives are clearly developed, and one consistent tone of dignity and repose prevails from the beginning to the end. But readers who expect stirring incidents and loud passion in a play may find the coldness of Greek sculpture, as well as its repose, in this modern- antique drama. The plot chosen by Euripides in treating the same subject is considerably modified by Goethe. He does not make Orestes the bearer of the statue of Diana from Tauris to Delphi, for this would have required supernatural agency. Orestes comes to liberate his own sister and succeeds by means of her truthfulness and magnanimit}'. The heroine is a woman of almost perfect character. At one moment, she is tempted to deceive her friend, King Thoas; but she soon displays the truth and the gratitude that belong to her character, and this noble self-assertion at first threatening to bring ruin on herself and her brother leads to the conciliation with which the drama concludes. To those who demand vigorous action arising from external causes, ' Iphigenia ' must seem too quiet. The thoughts and emotions of the heroine in exile take the place of action, and are expressed rather with epic repose than with dramatic energy. As the solitary priestess of Diana, she mourns, but utters no loud lamentation. Her first soliloquy expresses the repose of grief and resignation, by which the whole of the drama is per- vaded : Into your shadows, 'neath your tremulous boughs, Old consecrated grove ! from ancient times Made sacred to the goddess whom I serve I come, not fearless, but as if to-day I stepp'd, for the first time, into this gloom ; My soul is still an exile in the land Where, through long years, and far from all I love, A will above mine own hath bound me fast. She deplores her destiny, as one separated from all whom she loves, and stands, lonely, on the sea-shore, where only the low roar of the tide gives a reply to her sighs. ' I would not argue XVIII.] ' TASSO.' 255 with the gods,' she says, when tempted to envy the power and the liberty enjoyed by man : Within the state and on the battle-field He rules, and far from home, can aid himself; Possession cheers him, victory crowns his strife, Or death for him is made the way to fame With such a destiny she contrasts her own long sufferings, and her words rise in energy, but still her grief is dignified, even when she addresses to Diana the prayer : Deliver me, whom thoit hast saved from death, Now from this second death my lonely life ! The self-control blended with grief expressed in these opening sentences, governs the whole progress of the drama and leads to- its beautiful conclusion. In 1789 'Iphigenia' was followed by another psychological drama, ' Tasso,' at first written in prose (1780-81), and completed in iambic verse in 1789, when the poet was forty years old. Its- general purport was the extreme opposite of all that had been believed in the wild days of Sturm und Drang. ' Tasso ' repre- sents the important truth, that the highest genius wants a moral as well as an intellectual education. 'A hundred times,' says Goethe, 'I have heard artists boast, that they owed everything to themselves, and I have been often provoked to reply, " Yes, and the result is just what might have been expected." ' The central character of the drama, Tasso, represents enthusiasm and imagin- ative genius, wanting education, in the highest sense of the word. The thoughts and feelings of the poet take the place of external incidents ; in other words, the action of the drama is intellectual and emotional. This limits the interest of the work, but not so narrowly as might be supposed. For the laws of moral education to which even genius must be obedient are general, and, therefore, are applicable to men who are neither poets nor artists. Tasso was twenty-two years old when he came to Ferrara, at the time of the duke's wedding-festival. Here Lucrezia and Leonora, the duke's sisters, treated the poet with great kindness, and encouraged him to devote himself to the completion of his epic poem. The patronage enjoyed by the poet excited the envy of inferior men, but their whisperings could not have hurt him, if 256 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. [Cn. his own too-active imagination, excited by a suspicious temper, liad not created for him foes who had no real existence. After the completion of his epic, and during a visit to Rome, he yielded more and more to morbid suspicion, believing himself to be everywhere surrounded by enemies, or spies sent out by the Inquisition. Thus in the noon-day of his fame, dark clouds swept across his intellect, and the gloom grew deeper and deeper. On his return to Ferrara, after aimless wanderings in Mantua, Padua and Venice, he found himself, as he believed, treated with cold contempt. This so excited his anger that he spoke violently against the duke and his court, and, soon afterwards, was declared to be insane. He was placed in confinement in the hospital of St. Anna, where he remained seven years. Though he regained the use of his faculties and wrote sometimes calmly and well, during his imprisonment, the duke harshly refused to grant a release until 1580, and then it came too late ; the malady that might, perhaps, have yielded to a milder treatment had been made incurable. Tasso, after his release, wandered about, like a spectre, in Rome, Florence, Mantua, and Naples, nowhere finding a place that he could call his home, nowhere a friend in whom he could confide. When his majestic figure, with pale face and lustrous eyes, passed through the Italian towns, the people gazed upon him, and said, ' See, that is Tasso.' He died in the convent of San Onofrio, in 1595. The story of the drama includes only one passage in the earlier life of Tasso at the court of Ferrara, a misunderstanding existing between the poet and Antonio, who represents a man of the world and a politician. The drama opens with a pleasing scene in the duke's garden, where his highness's sisters are making wreaths of flowers to crown the busts of Virgil and Ariosto. The duke joins them, and soon afterwards, Tasso enters, bringing the complete copy of his epic, ' Goffredo,' as it was entitled in 1575. Tasso gives the book to Alfonso. Alfonso. You bring me, Tasso, with this gift delight, And make this beauteous day a festival. At last, I have the poem in my hand And in a certain sense, may call it mine. Tasso. If you are satisfied the work is done ; The whole belongs to you. When I regard The labour of the hand alone, 'tis mine ; xvin.j ' TASSO: 257 But when I ask what gave my epic song All that it has of inner worth and beauty, I see it clearly ; 'twas bestowed by you. Though nature gave to me the power of song, How easily might contradicting fate Have hid from me the face of this fair world ! The poverty of parents might have cast A dismal gloom upon my youthful soul, And if my lips had opened then to sing, A mournful elegy had issued forth In tones too well according with my fate. You saved me from the sorrows of my home And freed my soul from care, that in full flow My song might pour forth all its melody ; All that I have your bounty gave to me, And, like a heavenly genius, you delight In me to let the world behold yourself. Alfonso. The beauteous crown, the poet's meed, I see Here on the forehead of your ancestor ; He points to VirgiTs bust. Has chance, or some good genius placed it here ? Methinks I hear old Virgil saying now : ' Why deck, with verdant coronals, the dead ? My marble image is adorned enough. The living crown becomes the living poet.' Alfonso beckons his sister, who takes the crown from VirgiTs bust, and approaches Tasso, who steps back. Leonora. Why hesitate ? Whose hand bestows the crown ? Tasso. How, after such a moment shall I live ! Princess. You will allow me, Tasso, the delight To tell you, without words, all all I think. He kneels down, while the Princess places the crown upon his head, and Leonora applauds. Tasso. Oh, take it off, ye gods ! and, glorified, There let it hang, suspended in the heavens, High, inaccessible ! let all my life Be a continual aiming at that mark ! At this moment of the poet's triumph, when the princess has crowned him as her laureate, the statesman Antonio arrives at Ferrara. and, with coldness and caution, declines to share in the enthusiasm of the moment, but takes the opportunity of expressing an admiration of Ariosto. When Tasso contrasts his own cha- racter with that of the man of practical understanding, he feels too painfully his own inferiority. The princess, meanwhile, has resolved to unite Tasso and Antonio in firm friendship, and the poet is ready to obey her wishes, though he is not patient enough 258 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. to make use of the means required for winning the confidence of the calm and cautious politician. The secret of Tasso's failure is that he is not contented in his own realm of poetry. Genius for him is not, like virtue, its own reward, but is accompanied with an ambition to gain honours in society. This weakness is betrayed when, in the course of a conversation with the princess, he describes the impressions received on his first arrival at the court of Ferrara : An inexperienced youth, I hither came, Just at that time when bright festivities Made this Ferrara glory's central light. what a spectacle I then beheld ! A circle here was formed around the space Where knights in armour shone a ring so bright The sun will never see the like again ! The fairest ladies and the bravest men Sat, all assembled, in that glorious ring. Then when the lists were opened, how the steeds Stamped ! shields and helmets glittered in the sun, While piercingly the trumpet's blast went forth ; Then lances cracked, and shields and helmets rang, And whirling clouds of dust arose, to hide The fallen hero and the victor's pride. let the curtain fall upon a scene That makes me know my own obscurity ! The princess speaks of her own recollections of that time, which are well contrasted with Tasso's glowing description : That glorious festival I did not see ; But in a lonely room, where died away The last faint echoes of all sounds of joy, 1 sat in pain, with many pensive thoughts, And, with broad wings, before me hovered then The form of Death, and covered from my sight The scenes of all the varied living world. By slow degrees, the dark cloud passed away, And once again I saw, as through a veil, The varied hues of life shine faintly out, And living forms about me gently moved. When the princess first advises Tasso to cultivate the friendship of Antonio, the poet thus replies : Though all the gods assembled to bring gifts Around the cradle of this sapient man, Alas ! the Graces surely stayed away And he who has not their endearing gifts XVIII.J ' TASSO.' 259 May be a wise and prudent counsellor ; But he can never be our bosom-friend. After other expressions of the poet's intolerance and defect of sympathy, the princess warns him of the danger of yielding to a mood of mind that will drive him into solitude : In tbis mood, Tasso. you will never find Companionship among your fellow-men. This way will lead you through the lonely woods, Through the still valleys of secluded thought, Where more and more, the mind falls out of tune With all the world around, and strives in vain To find within itself that golden time Which in the outward world is never found. Tasso. what a word my Princess speaks to me ! That golden time ah ! whither has it fled ? For which the heart so often yearns in vain ! When o'er the cheerful earth the sons of men In joyous companies with freedom strayed ; When in the flowery field the ancient tree Shaded the shepherd and the shepherdess ; When o'er the purest sands the water-nymphs Guided at will the clear and gentle rills ; The harmless snake wound through the grass his way ; The daring fawn, by the brave youth attacked, Fled to the wood, and every creature roaming, And every bird that carolled in the air, Proclaimed to men ' Live freely as you please ! ' Princess. My friend, the Golden Age has passed away, And yet true souls can bring it back again, Yea, to confess to you my firm belief, That golden time of which the poets sing Was never more a truth than it is now. Or, if it ever was, 'twas only so That it may always be restored again. Still close together true congenial souls, And share the joys of all this beauteous world. But let me slightly change your law, my friend, And let it be ' Live truly, as you ought.' A common tradition tells us that Tasso's unhappiness arose from an affection inspired by the princess. The drama partly combines this romantic story with the true biography of the poet, but the princess is represented as addressing Tasso only as an intimate friend. Goethe doubtless remembered that she was no longer in her youth, when he represented her as speaking thus of a friendship superior to any passion : s 2 260 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [On. Beauty is perishable : that alone You seem to honour ; all that can endure Is dead for you, without that transient charm. If men could only learn to know and prize All the dear treasury of love and truth The bosom of a woman can enfold : If true remembrance might renew past joys ; If but your glance, which seems at times so keen, Could pierce the veil that age or sickness casts O'er beauty ; if you would but rest contented, Then happy days might soon for us appear And we should celebrate our golden time. A bright world expands itself before the poet, who sees all things coloured by the radiance of his genius. Assured of the affectionate regard which the princess cherishes for him, he feels himself restored to confidence and good-will, and he is ready to embrace even his suspected foes. But though a splendid poet, he is still an uneducated man. He knows not how to make prudence the friend and supporter of genius. Whatever he does he must do as he writes poetry, by inspiration, disregarding the cold rules of actual life. He forgets that all men are not just now in the glow of enthusiasm which he feels after the completion of his poem and his conversation with the princess. Determined to obey her wishes, he resolves to make an offer of friendship to Antonio. The politician receives the poet coldly, hesitates to return the offer of friendship, and refuses the hand stretched out. Tasso's feelings are outraged by this reception ; and, after the exchange of some satirical remarks, the poet draws his sword, when the duke steps forward and prevents a duel. The princess repents of her "plan of making a friendship between the statesman and the poet, and Antonio describes Tasso as an intolerant enthusiast : ' At one time,' says the statesman, ' he forgets all around him and lives in the world of his own thoughts ; at another, he would suddenly make all the world obedient to the impulses of his own mind.' Tasso speaks as severely of the states- man, whom he describes as a stiff pedagogue : ' I hate,' says the poet, 'the imperious tone with which he tells you what you know well already.' In the sequel Tasso, suspecting that the duke and his sisters are in conspiracy with Antonio, resolves to leave Ferrara ; his anger finds expression in declamation against his best friends, and confirms their belief that he has lost self-control. He XVIII.J GOETHE AND POLITICS. 261 thus consoles himself in the desolation in which, as he imagines, he is to be left for ever : One gift alone remains Nature bestowed on man the fount of tears, The cry of anguish, to relieve the heart, When more it cannot suffer ; and to me She gave, with all my sorrows, poetry, To tell the deepest fulness of my woe ; And while in anguish other men are dumb, She gives me power to tell the grief I feel. At this moment, Antonio, coming forward, grasps the hand of Tasso, and with the sudden reconciliation the drama concludes. In writing these two dramas, ' Iphigenia ' and ' Tasso,' the poet liberated himself from the errors of the first period in his deve- lopment, and amended the crude defects of form which are found in his first^drama, ' Gotz von Berlichingen.' This, however, with all its faults, was recommended by its national character, and it was a disappointment for many readers when Goethe selected antique and foreign themes. Critics who accuse Goethe of ' political indifference/ during the time of the French Revolution, should remember the fact, that he endeavoured to understand it, though he could not be hopeful respecting its results. He was neither ' an apostle of liberty,' nor a blind worshipper of rulers, but belonged to the third party, if we may so name the men who held a position thus described by himself : ' I am no more a friend of the revolutionists than I am of such a king as Louis XV. I hate every violent overthrow, because as much good is destroyed as is gained by it. I dislike those who achieve it, as well as those who give cause for it.' In accordance with his habit of putting into some form, more or less poetical, all the events that were parts of his own experience, (jroethe wrote several dramatic works having reference to the political movements of the age. In the Gross-Cophtha (1789) he exposed the corruption of the upper classes in France, and in the ' Citizen-General ' (1793), he referred to the influence of the French Revolution on men of weak and imitative minds in Germany. An unfinished drama entitled Die Aufgeregten (' The Agitated,' in a political sense), published in 1793, expressed the writer's belief that such an outburst of the lowest passions as had occurred in Paris could never have been made possible save by 262 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. previous unjust government. 'That play,' said Goethe, 'maybe regarded, in some measure, as my political confession of faith at the time. ... It is true that I could be no friend to the French Revolution, for its horrors were too near me and shocked me daily and hourly, whilst its beneficial results were not then to be disco- vered. But I was as little a friend to arbitrary rule. . . . Revo- lutions are utterly impossible as long as governments are constantly just and vigilant.' 'Eugenie, or the Natural Daughter' (1801) a drama founded on the memoirs of the Princess Stephanie de Bourbon-Conti, was intended to form the first part of a trilogy a circumstance that explains its slow progression and want of dramatic effect. The whole design, of which only a part was completed, would have included an exposition of the writer's views of the movement of 1789. The plan was left unfulfilled, says Madame de Stael, when it was found that the story of the princess was discredited ; more probably, the reason was, that the poet was not in love with the subject. In order to place several dramatic works in an unbroken series, we have deferred a notice of one of the poet's best productions. It is an epic-idyll, and with, regard to its extent may be styled a miniature, but its interest is both general and national. 'HERMANN AND DOROTHEA' (1796-7) is a poem in which a simple story of domestic but universal interest is united with national events arising from the war of the French Revolution. These incidents are well placed in the background, and there serve as dark shadows in a picture. The characters are few and clearly drawn, and one ruling thought, the triumph of love and courage, is well developed throughout the story. Its foreground scenery includes only a small rural town and its neighbourhood, but in the background are seen, in shade, bands of the retreating French soldiery, who, on their way through the district of the Upper Rhine, plunder farm-houses and drive peasants from their dwellings. A great historical event is thus connected with the plot, and gives both interest and importance to the story, while its leading characters are worthy of such an association with national events. For HERMANN, the hero, is honest and brave, though his character is hardly defined before the time when he meets DOROTHEA, the heroine, whose goodness is made more prominent than her personal beauty, while her misfortunes develope virtues XVIIL] 'HERMANN AND DOROTHEA.' 263 truly heroic, yet womanlike. In mentioning one trait of her cha- racter, her courage, shown in slaying a marauding soldier, the poet was probably guided by a recollection of facts. This is one exception to the rule otherwise observed well throughout the poem, of keeping scenes of warfare in the background, and covered by a cloud. Out of the darkness of that cloud the character of the heroine shines forth with the brightness of a rainbow. The beauty of the style and the poetry of the idyll must be lost when it is reduced to a succinct analysis in prose, but this will convey a better notion of the story than could be expressed by abstract criticism. We give therefore the following outlines of this epic in miniature. The harvest is ripe for the sickle in a fertile valley near the Rhine, where a band of emigrants, driven from their homes in the Upper Rhine district, are arriving. They are led by a venerable old man, and stay to rest themselves in a village a few miles distant from a little market-town. Among the leading men of this town the host of the ' Golden Lion ' is a prominent figure. He is sitting at the doorway of his house, in the market-place, and though grieved by the tale he has heard of the emigrants and their distresses, he solaces himself by thoughts of his own prosperity. ' 'Tis rare fine harvest- weather,' he says to his wife ; ' we shall get in the wheat, I hope, as well as we secured the hay. There is not a cloud in the sky, and a soft wind is blowing. We shall begin reaping to-morrow. ... I never before saw the streets and the market-place of our town so empty. Hardly fifty people seem to be left in the town, so many have gone, in the heat of the day, to see these emigrants from the Upper Rhine. Well, for my part, I will not move from my place to see their misery.' But the landlord is not destitute of sympathy ; he has sent out his only son, Hermann, to carry food and clothing to the poor people. One of his neighbours, an apothecary, though a man of narrow sympa- thies, has been out to see the refugees, and now comes back to describe their wretched circumstances. He is an egotist, and soon betrays himself, for he cannot tell the story without a prefatory reference to his own discomfort in seeing misery. This feeling is shared by the host. ' I am glad,' he says, ' that I did not go myself, for I cannot bear the sight of distress.' The landlord, with his friends, the apothecary and the curate, refresh themselves with a flask of Rhine-wine, enjoyed in the shade of a cool back-parlour, 264 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEKATUEE. [Cn. where ' no flies intrude ' (as mine host says), and their talk is of the events of the times. When Hermann comes home, he tells his story of the pitiable condition of the emigrants. ' On my way,' he says, ' I overtook a waggon drawn by a yoke of oxen, and guided by a brave young maiden who came towards me and prayed for assistance, not for herself, but for a poor woman lying upon straw in the waggon, and clasping an infant to her breast. I gave the maiden both food and clothing, and, when she thanked me, she said, "It is only in such misery as ours that we see clearly the hand of God directing good men to relieve the sufferings of the unfortunate." ' The tale told by Hermann suggests timid thoughts to the apothecary, who is a snug bachelor. ' Happy,' says he, ' is the man who, in these days of trouble, has neither wife nor children to care for ! I am glad that I have already packed away the most valuable part of my property. No one runs away from danger so easily as a single man.' Against this timid sentiment Hermann makes an earnest protest. ' I do not agree with you,' he says, ' for many a good maiden, in these days, needs a protecting husband. How can a man live and think only of himself ? ' This bold speech gives pleasure to the good hostess of the ' Golden Lion,' who tells the story of her own marriage in times of pecuniary difficulty. In the conversation that follows, it appears that the host, like a man who has risen in the world and wishes his son to rise higher, has cherished a hope that Hermann may select as a wife the daughter of the wealthiest tradesman in the town. ' Yes, Hermann,' says the father, ' you will be a comfort to my old age, if you bring me a daughter-in-law from a certain house, not far off; you know it well.' Unhappily, the father and the son have never been able to agree on the merits of this project. The son frankly confesses that he fails to appreciate the advantages of the proposed union, and speaks with disrespect of the showy education of the rich trades- man's daughters. This arouses the father's despotism, and the conversation soon becomes so unpleasant that Hermann leaves the house. ' Go,' says the landlord, ' headstrong as you are. Go and see to the farm-yard, for which, by the bye, I do not thank you. But think not to bring here any low country maiden for my daughter-in-law ! I will have a respectable daughter, one who can play the pianoforte, and I will have all such respectable company XVIII.] 'HEKMANN AND DOKOTHEA.' 265 as my neighbour has on Sundays ; mind that ! '.' When Hermann has gone out the father's temper becomes cooler, and he solaces himself by preaching to his friends on the" important duty of constantly studying how to rise in the -world. 'What must become of a house, or of a town/ he says, ' if each generation does not try to make improvements on the old ? ' Then follow severe remarks on the son's want of laudable ambition, and these call into exercise the eloquence of the hostess, who bravely defends the character of her son ; ' I will not have my Hermann abused/ she says, ' I know he has a good heart, and that he will rise to be an honourable man and a pattern for our townspeople.' So saying, she leaves her husband to continue his long discourse on ' respec- tability/ and goes to find her son and solace him with kind words. The conversation continues in the cool back-parlour, and the apothecary, studious to avoid anything that might offend, ventures, nevertheless, to say something in favour of moderating ambition. He prefers repose to 'respectability/ and speaks with terror of increasingly expensive habits. ' In old-fashioned times/ he says, ' my pleasure-garden was talked of all through the neighbourhood ; every stranger stayed to look through the palisades at the two stone figures and the painted dwarfs there. My grotto, too, where I often took my coffee, was greatly admired, for I had decorated the walls with artistically arranged shells, corals and spars ; but who cares for such old-fashioned things now ? I should like to go with the times, but I fear to make any changes, for, when you begin, who knows how many work-people you will soon have about your house ? I have had thoughts of gilding the figures of Michael and the Dragon, in front of my shop, but I shall leave them brown, just as they are. The cost of gilding is so frightful.' So ends the speech of the cautious and conservative apothecary. Meanwhile, the hostess has sought her son in the garden and in the vineyard, and finds him in the adjoining field, seated in the shade of a pear-tree, and looking towards the distant blue hills. He looks stern, and, in reply to soothing words, talks of the war and of the miseries of the emigrants. ' What I have seen and heard this morning has touched my heart/ says he ; ' shall a German stay at home and hope to escape the ruin that threatens us all ? I am grieved that I escaped from the last drawing for soldiers. I will go now, to live or die for fatherland, and to set a 266 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. good example to other youths. I will return to our house no more. From this place I go to give to our army my hand and my heart, to fight for our native land, and then let my father say again, that I have not a spark of honourable pride in my bosom ! ' The sagacious hostess hears all this and more to the same purpose, and admires her son's enthusiasm, but she will not believe that he is inspired only by patriotism. With tact and kindness she leads him to make a fuller confession of his motives for dis- obeying his father's wishes. The result of the visit to the emi- grants' camp has been more than sympathy with their misfortunes ; Hermann cannot forget that brave maiden who prayed that he would have compassion on her companion. When the mother feels assured that this is no dream, but an impression so strong that it has already changed her son's character, she resolves, that the domestic warfare impending shall be waged frankly and boldly. Having returned to the room where her husband and his friends are still drinking Rhine-wine and talking, she tells them all the truth respecting Hermann's sudden resolution. The father listens with silent astonishment, while the curate takes the mother's part and deprecates opposition. ' A moment like this,' he says, ' often decides a man's destiny.' ' Make haste slowly ! ' says the timid apothecary, who proposes that a deputation should be sent to make enquiries respecting the heroine. Accordingly, the curate and the apothecary sally forth to the village, where they find a venerable man, the leader and the ruler of the company of refugees. ' He is like a Moses leading the wandering people through the wilderness,' says the curate. The old man tells his story and that of his friends, and thus the plot of the epic is connected with history. The villages from which the people were driven were plundered by a retreating army. ' Vanquished soldiers,' says the old man, ' involved all things in their own ruin. May I never live to see again men so maddened and so miserable ! Let no man talk again of freedom until he is sure that he can govern himself ! ' In the course of further con- versation, the veteran tells the story of a German maiden, who, left alone to guard children in a farm-house, repelled several marauders and cut down one of them with a sabre. Meanwhile, the apothecary has been wandering about, until he has found a maiden answering to the description given of Dorothea. XVIII.] 'HERMANN AND DOROTHEA.' 267 She is seated under the shade of an apple-tree, and is engaged in preparing for destitute children some articles of clothing given by Hermann. 'That,' says the old man, 'is the maiden who guarded the farm-house, and she is as good as she is brave and beautiful.' The curate and his friend return to the town, bearing a highly favourable report of the results of their enquiry, and soon after- wards, Hermann, unattended, again visits the encampment of the refugees. As he approaches a clear fountain, on the side of the road leading to the village, he sees Dorothea coming to draw water, that she may carry a refreshing draught to the invalid woman. ' Thoughtless people,' says the maiden, ' have allowed their cattle to disturb the stream that flows through the village, but I am glad that I have come so far to find pure water/ she adds frankly, 'for it does the heart good to see the face of a friend.' While she is speaking, Hermann notices the golden ring upon her finger that tells him she is already betrothed. She explains that she is left desolate in the world, and that when she has done all that she can for her friends, she would be glad to find any home where she might be serviceable. The result of all that she tells and of Hermann's fear to confess the whole truth is, that Dorothea resolves to accept an engagement as domestic servant at the ' Golden Lion.' She bids farewell to the mother whom she has nursed. ' When you look on your child,' says Dorothea, ' when you see him wrapped in this comfortable robe, and press him to your bosom, think of the generous youth who gave us the clothing, and who now takes me to a home where I may be useful and happy.' Then Dorothea kneels down, kisses the woman reclining on the bed of straw, and receives a whispered blessing. Meanwhile, the report given by the curate, and the pleadings of the hostess, have had such an effect on the landlord of the ' Golden Lion,' that he can, at least, tolerate the thought that Dorothea may some day be accepted as a daughter. He is again sitting in his retired parlour and talking with his neighbours, while the hostess impatiently awaits her son's arrival. When Hermann comes home, he calls the curate aside and explains that the emigrant maiden enters the house at present as a servant. This explanation is, however, too late to prevent the pain already given by a remark made by the host, as soon as the maiden steps 268 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUEE. [On. into the room. He suddenly expresses admiration of her beauty, and an approval of Hermann's choice in that respect. ' Your son, sir,' says Dorothea, ' did not prepare me for this reception. I have no doubt that I stand here before a good and a respectable man, but you have not such pity as you ought to have for the poor, or you would not thus remind me how far my destiny has placed me beneath your family. I come to you as a poor maiden, with all my property in this small bundle. Is it noble, by an untimely jest, to drive away one who would have served you faithfully ? ' In vain the curate interposes and prays Dorothea not to be offended by a joke. It is not a mere jest that has so deeply wounded her feelings. She has been more than grateful towards the youth whom she calls the saviour of her friends, and her feelings have made her too ready to accept service at the ' Golden Lion.' Now she sees clearly the false position into which such sentiments might lead her, and is resolved to stay no longer in the house. A storm has suddenly gathered, and the rain is heavily falling, but she hastens to the door and is turning to say ' farewell,' when Hermann steps forward and makes a full confession. The curate has, meanwhile, explained the misunderstanding and now offers his services for the betrothal of Hermann and Dorothea. But Hermann again looks at the pledge on the maiden's finger and still fears that he maybe rejected, until Dorothea is persuaded by the curate to tell all the mystery of the ring. ' The brave youth who gave it me, some years ago,' says she, ' went away to Paris, there (as he believed) to fight for freedom, and there he fell. "Farewell! " said he, when he left me, "all things are moving now ; laws and possessions are changing ; friend is severed from friend ; we are but pilgrims on the earth more so now than ever ! " I thought of his words when I lost all my own property, and I think of them again now, when a new life seems beginning for me. Forgive me, if I tremble now, my friend, while I hang upon your arm. I feel like the sailor, when he escapes from a storm, and first steps upon the land.' ' Thou art mine, Dorothea,' says Hermann, 'and all that is mine seems now more my own than ever it was before, and I will keep it, not with care and anxiety, but with strength and courage. So let all Germans say, " This is ours," and boldly assert their rights ! XVIII.] 'HERMANN AND DOROTHEA.' 269 And, if all are of my mind, we shall, with resolute hearts, oppose the foe, and our native land shall have peace.' Thus the poem concludes, as it opened, with a reference to national events, and the union of the hero and the heroine is associated with the prospect of national unity. If the poet had ever incurred just censure by neglecting to write in a patriotic spirit, he made a good apology by writing ' Hermann and Dorothea/ 270 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [CH. CHAPTER XIX. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. GOETHE'S LYRICAL AND OCCASIONAL POEMS SONGS BALLADS RE- FERENCES TO AUTOBIOGRAPHY ODES ELEGIES EPIGRAMS AND OTHER DIDACTIC POEMS. THE object of this chapter can hardly be more than to indicate the extraordinary variety of themes and modes of treatment found in Goethe's minor poems. If it were desirable to add anything to the voluminous criticism already bestowed on the poet, it could not be reasonably attempted within our limits. For any general remarks which we may venture to make respecting the genius of Goethe, the reader is referred to a subsequent chapter. Preceding analyses have already told something of the wide range of subjects treated by the poet. How remarkable the transition from Gotz vigorous, but destitute of artistic form or from the ' Sorrows of Werther,' to the dignity of ' Iphigenia ' and the cheerful epic tone of ' Hermann and Dorothea ' ! Yet only a few phases of the poet's variety have been shown ; we have still to mention his ballads and lyrical poems and his unique drama, ' Faust.' There is great difficulty in the attempt to represent in any form of English translation the melody and the charm of the ballads and lyrical poems, for they have all the ease and freedom of nature in their happy union of thought and expression. There is no apparent effort and no rhetoric in these poems. Among the songs are found several so closely united with music that they must be sung to be appreciated. They are melodious expressions of life with its common joys and sorrows, and as life is often simple and lowly, several of these lyrics have the same character. For a taste so confused as to ask for dramatic effects and didactic points in a lyrical poem, Goethe's songs were not written, and they would XIX.] GOETHE'S POEMS. 271 certainly have failed to please the extinct critics who ridiculed Wordsworth for using in poetry the language of common life. Several early occasional poems on art have a reference to the poet's own attempts in painting and engraving. His boyhood was partly spent in an atelier in his father's house at Frankfort, where painters and other artists were frequent visitors. For some years afterwards, in Leipzig, Dresden and elsewhere, the poet continued his studies in drawing, etching and painting, until, as he tells us, he felt convinced that he could rise to the rack of a master in only one art, that of writing German verse and prose. All Goethe's minor poems may be called ' occasional,' in his own free sense of the word, and several are so far autobiographical that they require annotations to make clear their numerous refer- ences to facts in the poet's life. For example, a poem composed ' during a journey in the Harz Mountains, in winter (1776),' might at first sight seem like a fiction, but its individuality soon assures us that it is founded on facts. The poet, wishing to inspect some mines and also to pay a visit to a friend in depressed health, availed himself of an opportunity of joining a winter hunting party. Leaving his companions to pursue their sport, he under- took a lonely journey over the Brocken, which he describes in the poem : Stormy winds around him blowing Serve to cheer him, upwards going, The torrent, as it roars along, Makes music for a matin-song, And for a lofty altar, lo ! The haunted Blocksberg, capp'd with snow, \Vh; re, as boors and miners dream, Wild spectres in the moonlight gleam. Other parts of the poem would be hardly intelligible without the biographical facts above stated. It is important therefore that this Harzreise im Winter ,iwith other occasional poems of the same class, should not be given without notes, as is often the case in selections of poetry intended for general use. Several early lyrical poems, including not a few amatory songs, may be passed by with the remark that their defects, or rather their excesses, belonged to the days of Sturm und Drang, when Goethe wrote also his wild dithyrambic ' Storm-song,' described by himself as a ' half-crazy ' production. The following is an imitation of the opening lines : 272 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. Genius ! while by thee attended, Neither rain nor storm can daunt me, Fears no longer haunt me. Genius ! while by thee befriended, Singing still, I face rough weather, Clouds of thunder piled together : Singing still, As over the hill, The lark is singing ! For a full interpretation of this rhapsody the reader is referred to the poet's autobiography. He tells us that, to quell the sorrow he felt after leaving Strassburg and Sesenheim, he took long walks in the country, without regard for stormy weather. The quasi- Pindaric effusion was the result of a walk under heavy rain. Not long after writing that ' Wanderer's Storm-song,' the poet wrote a dialogue called ' The Wanderer,' remarkable for its antique dignity. In several other poems of about the same date (1771-4) he delights to view life as a stormy journey and in one of them he calls ' Time ' a ' postilion,' and bids him ply whip and spurs, that life's carriage may roll on swiftly, over the mountain and down into the valley, and by villages and lonely hostelries, where the traveller refuses to stay, though youth and beauty invite him. This rhapsody has all the vigour without the coarseness of the days of Sturm und Drang. The dithyrambic audacity of that ' Storm-song ' is exceeded in another poem, 'Prometheus,' the result of the young poet's reading of some of Spinosa's works. It must be understood that these defiant words are addressed by Prometheus only to Zeus, the despot, an imaginary creature of Greek mythology : Cover thy sky with clouds And like a boy who smites The heads of thistles Display thy might on oaks and mountain peaks ! Still Thou must leave for me The earth ; my hut not built by Thee ! And this my glowing hearth ; its cheerful flame Excites thine envy ! ***** Here sit I, forming men on mine own plan, A race, like me, to suffer and to weep ; But they shall also prosper and rejoice, And like myself care nought for Thee ! That the solitary and defiant mood expressed in these unrhymed XIX.] OCCASIONAL POEMS. 273 lines was only temporary, is easily shown by a reference to the hymns entitled respectively ( The Divine,' and the ' Boundaries of Humanity.' The latter is an expression of humility, the former asserts only what Kant and Hegel taught, that religion must be founded, not on natural theology (so called), but on morality. In the following passage no attempt is made to follow closely ihe original rhythm : Let man be magnanimous, generous and kind ! Such virtues alone can make him distinct From all other beings of whom we have knowledge. With reverence be named the Higher Powers Unknown, of whose nature we have but forebodings, In whom man alone can make us believers. For Nature, around us, is cold and unfeeling ; The sun shines alike on the good and the evil ; The moon and the stars light the criminal's path, As well as the way of the just. The themes chosen by Goethe for his 'songs are often ' as old as the hills,' but, like the hills, are ever new for poets. The forsaken shepherd stands on the hill-side and looks down on a deserted cottage. The poet tells all the shepherd's sorrow without the use of ' poetic diction ; ' in other words, just as the swain would have told it, had he possessed the powej of making metre and rhyme : All down the slope descending, and following my sheep, Along the valley wending, as walking in my sleep, I roam along the meadow, all gay in summer bloom ; The fairest flowers I'm culling, and hardly know for whom ; Or shelter'd from the weather, there, in a misty gleam, I see a hut deserted, 'tis all but like a dream And o'er the roof a rainbow for others bright and fair, But not for me ! the maiden, no longer dwelling there, Has wander'd o'er the mountain, it may be, o'er the sea ! Sheep ! leave the flowery meadow ; 'tis sorrowful for me ! In another song, the Jdgers Abendlied, we have the same theme, but treated with new harmonies, for it is now the hunter who tells his sorrow, and, instead of the meadow in the valley, the tree and the deserted cottage in the rainbow's gleam, we have, I 274 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. for scenery, the still moon shining on the ridge where the game easily escapes from the dreaming Jager : As, lone and wild, along the fell In search of game I stray, The form, the face I love so well Attend me on my way. . . . Dost Thou behold in dreams the man Who wanders, east and west, And, while so far away from thee. Can find no place of rest? Another song may be briefly noticed as an example of Goethe's simplest lyrical poems written for music. It is hardly treated with fairness when taken out of its place in the operetta ' Erwin and Elmire.' There it is sung by Erwin in a garden where the roses are blighted. I remember, love, with sadness, When, to win a smile from you, Every morn, I brought Avith gladness Roses wet with morning dew. . . . Now, no more your charms displaying, Flowers my love refused to wear ! Roses ah, so soon decaying Fade and die ! for I despair. Among other lyrical poems that partly lose their effect when given in an isolated form, Mignon's Song, ' Know'st Thou the Land ? ' (in WilJielm Meister) may be noticed. It strictly belongs to the story of an exiled Italian girl, wandering about with strolling players in the cold North and longing for her home. We must know something of the singer before we can feel all the pathos of such words as these : Know you the land where citron-trees are growing ? In leafy shade the golden orange glows, A softer wind is from the blue sky blowing, And near the bay the lowlier myrtle grows. Know 3*ou the land ? 'Tis there ! 'tis there ! That I would go with thee, my love ! 'tis there ! Goethe's occasional poems include songs, dithyrambic odes, elegies, ballads, epigrams, and parables. With regard to their subjects, it may be asserted, that a selection containing only a few XIX.] GOETHE'S VARIETY. 275 poems from each of the above classes -would include such a variety of thoughts and sentiments as could hardly be found elsewhere in so small a compass. For here we have the many moods of mind characteristic of a writer who was, at once, a poet, a man of science, an observer of practical life, and a lover of art. The varied metres and forms of his minor poems accord with the variety of their themes. Here lyrics as simple as the songs already noticed are followed by odes of antique grandeur, and by ballads ranging in style from wild romance or caricature to epic interest and dignity. Of the ballads and other poems written to satirize literary follies one or two specimens may be noticed. There was a time, near the close of the last century, when German fiction could not be mentioned without suggesting robber-romances, ballads of ' diablerie ' and ' tales of terror.' We have seen how rapidly Biirger's wild ballad of ' Leonora,' masterly in its kind, won a wide popularity, and that far inferior pieces were read with avidity. On the whole, Goethe in early life, showed a wholesome aversion from the horrors of powerful sensational writing, and to turn them into ridicule wrote two or three such caricatures as ' The Skeletons' Dance.' A few lines are enough to show that he might, perhaps, have excelled both Schubart and Burger in this odd department of literature. However absurd, it must be repre- sented here, and Goethe's caricature may serve to set aside quotations from inferior writers : The warder looks down from the tower at night, On the churchyard asleep in the moon's pale light. . . . Ha ! can it be real ? the graves open all, And the skeletons come to their midnight ball ! Bone clatters to bone ; legs find their own feet, And balls with their sockets all readily meet ; For dancing the shrouds are too lengthy and wide, So, to make tripping easy and steady, On tombstones and graves they are all cast aside, And now for the ball we are ready. Then, ha ! what a dance in the churchyard lone ! And oh, what a clatter of bone upon bone ! . . . The warder grows merry ; he runs down below And one of their winding-sheets seizes. . . . T2 276 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. One misses his shroud. There it hangs on the tower ! He must have it before the bell tolls the next hour. . . He climbs up the turret on crocket and scroll ('Twaa Gothic with rich decoration) He climbs like a spider ; the warder, poor soul ! Is quaking in dire perturbation ; For up comes the skeleton ! sure not to stop Until his claws grapple the thief on the top. With terror the warder is white as a smock, When luck the poor fellow releases ; The bell thunders ' one,' and thrown down by the shock The skeleton tumbles to pieces ! Another caricature, ' Muses and Graces in the Mark,' a sort of pastoral, should be mentioned, as it serves to explain our brevity in noticing several writers of homely idylls. They belonged to a school of which Voss was the head-master, while Schmidt (a rural pastor who lived in a district called the Mark) was one of the more advanced pupils. He was a lover of extreme simplicity and lowliness of both thought and expression. Without this reference to the class of poems satirized in the pastoral above named, it might seem strange to find among Goethe's lyrical poems such a stanza as this : By their rules let critics try us, Still we never care a jot ; For we're natural and pious, And contented with our lot. Several of Schmidt's own poems are more ridiculous than this. It is, indeed, more like a fair imitation than a parody of the style in which the good pastor in the Mark wrote of the pleasures of rural life. For satire in a better style we may turn to a ballad entitled Der Znuberlehrling ('The Magician's Apprentice'), an excellent union of apparent levity with good teaching. There is nothing directly didactic in the story, but the thought suggested has importance both for life and art. The tale, borrowed from Lucian's 0i\cn|/fu/ji-, tells that Eukrates, a pupil in magic, whose master was Pankrates, stole by eavesdropping half of one of the master's secrets, a formula of incantation by which a besom may be suddenly converted into a kobold or sprite who is employed as a water-carrier. When his services are no longer required, three words can, at once, reduce him to his primitive condition. ' The ^equel shows the danger attending a half-knowledge of any XIX.] BALLADS. 277 business. Eukrates, left alone, calls into activity the water- carrier, whose services are only too zealous. He fills the bath, but still pours in one pail of water after another until the house is flooded. The apprentice has, like a demagogue, excited a movement over which he has no control, and, for want of skill, has now recourse to violence. He seizes a sabre and cuts the kobold in twain, but this only makes the case worse, for there are now two kobolds, both pouring water into the house as fast as they can, until Eukrates screams out in his despair : See them running, coming, going, Pouring water, fast aud faster ! Over all the rooms 'tis flowing, And they'll drown me. O good master ! Hear me ; and in this disaster, , Help me ! Sprites compelled to aid me Thus, in spite, have disobeyed me. As examples of the poet's most artistic ballads, two written in 1797, ' The Bride of Corinth,' and ' The God and the Bayadere/ must, at least, be mentioned. The painful subject of the first was taken from the ' Wonderful Stories ' of Trallianus, a Greek writer of the second century. This choice of a subject, the story of a vampire, has been severely censured, and it has been especially noticed as inconsistent that a writer who condemned the mediaeval legend of ' Poor Henry,' the leper, should select a more repulsive narrative. ' The God and the Bayadere ' is a Hindoo legend, and, as treated by Goethe, is remarkable for the dramatic interest of the story and the varied melody of the versification. The best of the ballads are those of which an artistic translation is difficult. It would be comparatively easy to give the substance of a few of the more didactic poems written in the poet's declining years, but these cannot serve as fair examples of his powers as a lyrical writer. The ballad of the ' Treasure-Digger ' may be pointed out as a medium between the free and sometimes wild poetry of youth and the didactic sobriety of age. Here the story has a moral, one of the best in the world, but the narrative interest is not sacrificed to the moral, aud the latter is not repeated like a maxim in a boy's copybook. Urged to desperation by extreme poverty, the treasure-digger comes, at the dark hour of midnight, to make a contract with ' the enemy ' so often encountered in German ballads. The magic circle is duly drawn, and the requi- 278 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. site incantations are chanted, when, instead of the fiend, a bright light appears, and in the midst of it a boy, the Genius of Industry, cheerful and rosy as Cupid. He brings a bowl filled with a refreshing beverage, and thus advises the misguided digger for hidden treasure : Drink ! and now, prepared for labour, You shall learn your true vocation : Come no more with vain endeavour, Here to try your incantation ; Dig no more for hidden treasure ! Better far than conjuration Weeks of care with days of pleasure, Toil relieved by recreation ! The following verses should, perhaps, hardly be classed with the didactic, for their moral is as latent as the little flower of which they tell a story : As in the wood I stray'd, a flower I chanc'd to spy ; - Within the leafy shade, 'twas like a deep-blue eye. ' I'll gather you,' I said ; the violet seem'd to say, ' Ah, why so soon must I be cull'd and thrown away ? ' ' I'll take your rootlets fine, and in my garden, near My cottage, you'll be mine, and bloom for many a year.' The youthful period in the development of Goethe's poetic genius may be said to have closed about 1783, when he wrote his meditative poem on ' Ilmenau,' a place in the neighbourhood of Weimar to which the poet and his friend the archduke loved to retreat from the cares of public life. In this interesting retro- spective soliloquy Goethe speaks of the excitements of former years as if they belonged to a remote past. The love of repose that prevails throughout the poeni is more concisely expressed in an impromptu of about the same date. It was at first written with a pencil in a summer-house on the Kikelhahn, a high hill near the Ilmenau valley. The following is a paraphrase : Hush'd now is every wild bird's lay In the day's calm close ; The trees are all asleep ; how still Is the light green leaf on the topmost, spray ! And, list as you will, you hear not a trill In the woodland lone. wait, my soul ! and soon, repose Like this will be your own. XIX.] ELEGIES. 279 When it is said that the poem on ' Ilmenau ' marks a transition from youthful inspiration to studious and artistic writing, the assertion must not be too strictly understood, for the poet gave proofs of a studious and refined taste before 1783 ; witness the dialogue entitled ' The Wanderer,' written in 1772. On the other hand, it must be noticed that the transition made was not one of an extreme character. It affected the form and the style more than the essential character of the poet's writings. Neither Goethe nor Schiller ever forgot all the sensual and sentimental tendencies of the literature belonging to the days of Sturm und Drang. Schiller's play of Wallenstein is injured by the long and sentimental love-episode of Max and Thecla. With regard to Goethe's more sensuous poetry, we can only briefly refer to the blame incurred by the freedom of expression found in some of his minor poems, especially in the 'Roman Elegies,' written in 1788-9, after his second visit to Italy. In other respects, they belong to the poet's classical works, and may be compared with the elegies of Propertius and Tibullus. These ' Roman Elegies,' so named with respect to their form and versification, though their tone is cheerful, are at once antique and original. To their antique form the writer ascribes no inconsiderable virtue, for he confesses that ' if they had been written in the metre and the style of Byron's " Don Juan," their import would have been thought infamous.' No apology of that kind is required for three beautiful elegies, 'Alexis and Dora,' 'Amyntas,' and ' Euphrosyne,' all written in 1796-7. The first is truly described by Schiller as one of the finest of Goethe's poems. The third was written on the decease of Christiana Becker, an actress who had lived at Weimar, and had been educated under the care of Goethe, while he was director of the theatre there. The elegy ' Amyntas ' may be noticed as a good specimen of antique versification. The classic, elegiac metres to which such a powerful charm was ascribed by the poet were also employed in the ' Venetian Epigrams,' written in 1790, when he went to Venice, to accompany the Duchess Arnalia on her homeward journey from Italy. These epigrams are less cheerful than the ' Roman Elegies.' ' I have never since been so happy as I was in Italy in 1786-7,' said Goethe. In Rome, at that time, he forgot both Germany and France, with all their unhappy politics ; in Venice he expresses a want of sympathy with ' the grand movement ' of the age, and 280 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [On. rails against the ' apostles of freedom,' and other visionaries, but also against priests and rulers. Several of these Venetian epigrams are as audacious as anything written by the poet. It is hard to give well-translated specimens, for their metres and their meanings cannot coincide in English. The import of two or three of these may, therefore, be given in prose : ' Why talk you, Poet, of vagabonds, tumblers, and beggars, as if you knew nothing of good society ? ' ' I have seen, in the course of my life, respecta- ble people, suggesting no thought for an epigram or for a sonnet.' The fanatic gains many disciples and stirs up the people ; the moderate, rational man may count all his friends on his fingers. Wonder-working pictures [of saints'] are mostly vile daubs ; fine works of genius and art are not for the many. 'All may be clearly explained,' so a student tells me 'by a new theory taught by our master to-day : ' ' When you have hammered together the beams of your cross, then you can torture thereon whatever body you choose. Other epigrams, collectively entitled ' The Predictions of Bakis ' (1798), and a series given under the title of ' The Four Seasons,' may be named here. The former are rather mysterious j the latter include one of the finest of the poet's epigrams, which is placed last in the following translations : When the clouds burst, as freely streams the rain On the bare rock as on the grassy plain. The field is soon revived, th rock soon dried ; With life alone the gifts of God abide. ' Why am I transitory, ZEUS ? ' asked BEAUTY, and he replied : ' Be- cause I make only that beautiful which is transitory.' When LOVE, and the FLOWERS, and the DEW, and YOUTH heard the sentence, all went away weeping from the Olympian throne. 'What is holy ?' That which unites many souls as one, though it binds them as lightly as a rush binds a garland. ' What is holiest ? ' That which, to-day and for ever, more and more deeply felt, more and more closely unites the souls of men. This last epigram is a summary of Goethe's notions of religion. In 1796-7 Goethe and Schiller were partners in writing four series of epigrams. The first entitled Tdbulee Votivce contains maxims and results of experience in life and art ; the second, col- lected under the inscription Tiekn, and the third at first, in- XIX.] EPIGEAMS. 281 scribed Einer in Schiller's Musenalmanach were both inserted by Goethe in his own collected works, under the title, ' The Four Seasons.' This was done in accordance with an agreement made with Schiller. The fourth series the Xenien includes many satirical and personal epigrams written as replies to some un- favourable critiques on articles published in Schiller's literary journal, Die Horen. The two friends wrote their epigrams on a plan of such close co-operation, that it is impossible to select all the Xenien that belong to Goethe. Such men as Lavater, Nicolai, Manso, Friedrich Schlegel, and some dull commentators on Kant's philosophy, were chosen as objects of satire, and, in some of the epigrams bearing the names of German towns and rivers, the supposed characteristics of the people of several districts are noticed. The minor poems of Goethe which were written during his youth are as original and vigorous as those that belong to his second period that of his middle life when he paid more at- tention to rules of art. In his later years he becomes didactic, and reminds us often, that ' the night cometh when no man can work ; ' but his meditations on mortality are not gloomy. ' Remember to live/ is the maxim he makes most prominent, even when his topics are mutability and death. It is to recommend the culture of art, that he thus writes of the transitions of nature : With every shower the valleys change ; You cross the selfsame brook no more ; The river, in another bed, Is gliding by another shore ! The castled crags, the palace walls No longer can your wonder raise ; Xo longer with a youthful eye Along their battlements you gaze ; And where is now the rosy lip That stole the kiss the first so sweet ? And where the foot that, on the hill, Was, like the wild-goat's, sure and fleet? We have still to notice one more striking example of the poet's versatility his ' West-East Divan,' written mostly in 1814, and suggested by Hammer's translations from the Persian poet Hafiz. As the title indicates, the ' Divan ' is a union of European 282 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. thoughts with Oriental forms of poetry. It was hardly to be wondered at, that Goethe, when almost seventy years old, found recreation and repose in this new style of writing ; but it was absurd that such young poets as Riickert and Platen could find in all Goethe's writings, nothing more worthy of imitation than the ' West-East Divan.' xx. j ' FAUST; 283 CHAPTER XX. SEVENTH PEB10D. 1770-1830. ' FAtTST.' THERE are a few poems that are as remarkable for the attractive power of their subjects as for their literary merits. The master- thought of ' Prometheus Bound ' might have given success to a play written by a poet inferior to ./Eschylus. Without a word to detract from the poetic merits of Cervantes, it may be said that the world-wide fame of his great romance is partly owing to the happy choice of a subject. But a theme of far wider and deeper interest the myth of Faust haunted the mind of Goethe from youth to old age. Had he treated the story with less power, it might still have been successful ; for, while its form and many of its details are intensely German, its interest is universal. It is founded on a fact the duality of human nature. The poet wrote some parts of Faust as early as 1774, and, in the following year, read them to Klopstock, who liked them well. Other scenes were added in 1777-80; in 1790 the first part was published as a fragment, and in 1806 as completed. The second part begun as early as 1780 was not completed until 1831 a few months before the close of the poet's earthly life. Differences of critical opinions and controversies, to which parts of the drama have given rise, must be merely alluded to here ; for any attempt to interpret such obscurities as may be found in the second part would far exceed the limits of these outlines. It is therefore, to the principal subject, and to those scenes that are most closely connected with it, that our attention must be confined. The common notion of Faust, the magician, which was cir- 284 OUTLINES OF GERMAN. LITERATURE. [Cn. culated by the crude old legend and the Puppenspiel (both noticed ante in Chapter X.) must be here dismissed. Faust, as Goethe has represented him, is, both originally and finally, a man of noble and generous aspirations, and throughout a series of trials, is represented as guilty of only one dark sin. His repen- tance is not described at length, but is both expressed and implied. The deaths of Valentine and the heroine's mother are results of a plot in which Faust is an unconscious accomplice. These points in the story should be noticed ; otherwise, readers who exaggerate the guilt of Faust, as implied in the first part of the drama, might regard the earlier scenes of the second part as both inconsequent and heartless. In the first scene of the play, the hero shows the better side of his character. He has found out that the sup- posed sciences to which he has devoted his studies are mere delusions and can afford no aid to mankind ; he therefore de- nounces them at once, and will teach them no longer. If the pedant Wagner (who is introduced as a contrast to Faust) had had the wit to make the same discovery, he would have kept it a secret, and ' for a profit' (to use his own words) would have per- sisted in ' leading poor students by the nose.' In dismissing the common notion of Faust's depravity, we must not err on the other side, or imagine that he is like Job ' a perfect man.' He is an egotist, though he does not even sus- pect it. His egotism is, however, by no means of the baser kind, but assumes the form of intellectual pride and ambition. ' Two souls,' he says, ; are striving iu my breast ; each from the other , longing to be free.' The first includes the common passions of ' men ; the second is a vague and restless aspiration for the pos- session of unbounded knowledge and power. When pride and ambition, however refined, are admitted into the heart, envy and hatred will not long be absent ; but Faust never succumbs to the power of these lower passions. They are kept separate from the essence of his character, and this separation is powerfully re- presented by the poet, by calling into existence a distinct character Mephistopheles (or Mephisto, as he is called in the old legend). Stripped of all his grotesque features and his mythological dis- guise, he is simply an intensely bad man ; one in whom envy and hatred are predominant. In truth, Faust and Mephistopheles are one, just as, in ancient Persian mythology, Ormuzd and Arimanes were one before time existed ; but, for poetic purposes, xx.j FAUST; 285 the light and .the darkness are separated, and the higher nature of Faust is placed in clear opposition to the lower nature represented in the person of Mephistopheles. In the exposition of the drama, Faust binds himself to his own lower nature ; in the development, he strives more and more to liberate himself, and he at last suc- ceeds. As he rises towards freedom, the distance between his own character and that of his 'companion' so he calls his enemy increases, until death makes the separation perfect and everlasting. On the other hand, the character of Mephistopheles, as it is made more and more distinct from that of Faust, becomes also more and more darkly shaded. The fiend appears, at first, as a cynical satirist, and not without humour ; but as the story proceeds, he is described as a juggler, a sorcerer, and a murderer. He is Satan, without any disguise, in the midst of infernal revels on the Blocksberg, and, at the close of the drama, his character appears still worse : though this might seem impossible. He is, at last, what a man remains when every noble aspiration has left him. These preliminary notes on the two chief characters of the drama may help to render the following outlines of the story clear. For the sake of brevity, the ' Prelude in the Theatre ' must be passed over with few words, though it contains both humorous and beautiful passages, and clearly indicates the poet's personal sympathy with the destiny of Faust. The Theatre- Poet is an idealist, with an ambition above his vocation; he would write ' for posterity,' of whom the manager wishes never to hear another word. Both he and his friend, the Merryman, are realists and practical men, who insist upon it that the Poet shall insert in the play a considerable amount of folly, in order to amuse the multitude, and increase the profits of the theatre. The humour of this prelude is strongly contrasted with the beginning of the ' Prologue in Heaven,' which immediately follows. The prologue opens with a song in heaven, where three arch- angels Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael sing severally, and then unite in harmony with ' the music of the spheres.' This form of introduction is obviously founded on the opening of the book of Job, and the song, with its chorus, was probably suggested by the text (in chapter xxxviii. of that book), speaking of the time 'when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.' The three archangels describe the sun and the planets 286 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cu. as ever pouring forth divine harmony while carried along around their eternal centre. The translation of this song into English presents a problem which has led to several laudable attempts, but hardly to one perfect success. The solution may be impossible, when the highest artistic form of translation is demanded. If it be required that a version, exactly representing the meaning of the original, shall also have corresponding metre and rhymes, and shall seem to be so easily done as to read like original verse, the problem becomes too complex. The last-named condition, the art concealing art, is indispensable, yet can hardly be fulfilled without a sacrifice of some minor merits. The following stanzas give nothing better than a paraphrase of the original : RAPHAEL. With pace of thunder rolls along The Sun, in concord never ending Still chanting a primeval song, With tones from all the planets blending ; The Angels from the glorious sight Derive their power and inspiration, And all the wondrous works are bright As in the morning of creation. GABRIEL. There rolls the earth so swift and bright ! And changeful day and night attend her, As out of gloom of awful night She turns to Paradisian splendour ; While foams the sea broad waves upthrowing On rocky barriers deep and strong And rocks and billows, onward going, Are carried with the spheres along ; MICHAEL. And tempests blow, in emulation, From sea to land and o'er the main, And form, through all their perturbation, A circling, energetic chain ; There flames the lightning's devastation, And thunders roll along its way ; But we, O LORD, with veneration, Behold thy calmly-changeful day. THE THREE ARCHANGELS. The vision gives us inspiration, Though no one comprehend THEE may, And all the works of thy creation Are bright as in the Primal Day. XX.] ' FAUST.' 287 This grand declaration of Eternal Divine Power is followed by its extreme opposite. Among the heavenly host, assembled to proclaim that all the works of the Lord are glorious, there presents himself the spirit whose bad will leads only to negation and destruction; the f Arimanes ' of old Persian mythology, the ' Satan ' of the vene- rable book of Job. He will say nothing against the glory of the sun and the stars, but he asserts that Man, with all his pride of intellect and his restless discontent, is a mere disgrace to the universe in which he lives. In the conversation that follows this assertion, the leading thought of the drama, that evil is permitted to exist only as a condition, sine qua non, of energetic life, is expressed. Mephistopheles, the genius of envy and negation, receives full permission to tempt Faust, but the final defeat of the tempter is predicted. We now descend to the earth. Here Faust, a gray professor in a German university, is seated at his desk in a narrow and high- vaulted gothic chamber, while the moon pours her light through the window. He is surrounded by books, old, dusty parchments, and some instruments of science, on which he looks with weariness and disgust. For he has arrived at the stage of thought when he despairs of the power of study. It is from powers of which man is unconscious that all the wonders of creation proceed. When contrasted with those powers, all our studies are nothing more than a ' vanity of vanities.' Law, medicine, theology Faust describes them all as dry abstractions and dead formulae, having no union with life and reality, and conferring on the student no power either to control or to enjoy the boundless energies and resources of nature. His ambition is partly sensuous and mostly egotistic. True, he complains in one part of his monologue that he finds in his studies nothing that can confer benefits on mankind, but from other expressions we learn that he longs chiefly for power and enjoyment. It is indeed nothing less than theurgic power, or what Goethe called 'daemonic energy,' for which Faust is craving. That the object of thought should be to make this finite world appear untrue, that the aim of life and of study should be to obtain rest, not excitement, that the destiny of man is to rise above his own nature, and to subdue all its passions, its contentions and cravings ; this is not Faust's belief. Such philosophy is for him a realm of shadows. He would explore, he says, ' the fountains 288 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITERATURE. [On. whence flows life throughout creation,' he would refresh himself in their streams. To gain such power and enjoyment, he tries the processes of magic that were recommended by old Nostrodamus (a magician or astrologer who is said to have lived in the sixteenth century), but after some deceptive indications of success, dis- couragement follows, and Faust is interrupted by a visit from Wagner, his Famulus or attendant-student, who is a very dull pe- dant. All that Faust disdains as the { dry bones and mere lumber of erudition ' is choice meat and drink for the intellectual constitution of Wagner. No amount of our modern preparations for exami- nation could have been too great for him. He is charmed with dead formulcs and cannot hare too many of them impressed upon his memory. His notion of the object of life is that his 'mind' may be stored with an infinite number of rules of grammar, prosody, formal logic, and barren rhetoric, and he regrets that ' life is too short ' to allow the most diligent student to master thoroughly such a study as Greek prosody. The character of this ' dry-as- dust ' pedant is admirably contrasted with that of Faust. Wagner, after receiving a hint that his presence is becoming tiresome, goes away to pore on 'the dead letter' of prosody, or something of that kind, but his master, despairing of ever knowing more than mere forms and words without power, resolves to die rather than live, a melancholy inane pedant. There stands, near him, on one of the dusty shelves of his library, an old brown goblet, an heir-loom from his father, and often of yore filled with Rhine-wine at happy family festivals. Faust has filled it now with laudanum, and is lifting the poison to his lips when his resolution is suddenly disturbed by a melodious peal of bells, and by the choral hymn sung in a neighbouring church : Christ hath arisen Out of death's prison ; for it is now Easter morning, and all the old Christian asso- ciations of the time are at once recalled by that peal of church bells and that cheerful hymn. ' Oh, heavenly tones ! ' he ex- claims : Ye call me back to life again, sweet bells ! Ye call to mind the time when Sabbath peace Fell on my spirit like a kiss from heaven. Later in the morning, Faust and f dry-as-dust ' Wagner take a walk into the fields, where all the ambition and melancholy of xx.] ' FAUST; 289 Faust are brought into vivid contrast with the gladness of common life tbat beams from the faces of peasants and townspeople all in their holiday dress and coming forth into the sunshine. Their cheerfulness for a moment imparts itself to Faust. But when one of the older men among the peasants recognises ' the doctor,' and thanks him for aid received during affliction, the incident suggests only a contemptuous remark on the uncertainty of medical science. It is characteristic of Wagner that he can find no pleasure in looking on the crowd of people enjoying their Easter holiday. They do not help him in the sole aim of his life 'reading to gain honours at the University ! He has come out, even on Easter Sunday, solely to derive some 'profit,' as he says, from conver- sation with his superior in learning. 'All this skittle-playing, fiddling, and singing (as they call it) is, for me, simply detestable,' says Wagner. His master, however, can forget, for a few moments, his own melancholy, while he looks upon the merry people of whom he thus speaks : With joy they celebrate the day, For they themselves have burst away, As out of prison, or from the tomb, From many a workshop's dusty gloom ; From many a narrow, crowded street They come, each other here to greet, Or from the minster's solemn night They wander forth into the light. When evening comes on, the master looks on the burning western heavens, and expresses a vague longing to follow the course of the sun : To drink at the eternal source of light, And leave behind, for evermore, the night ! Wagner frankly owns that he has no sympathy with any such aspiration, and that he cares little for the beauties of nature. For him there are better attractions in a snug, warm, and well-lighted study. ' There winter-evenings are very pleasant,' he says ; And, when some precious parchment you unroll, You have all Paradise in your own soul ! Faust spends the holiday with Wagner, and retires after sunset into the solitude of the old Gothic chamber. Here he is visited by Mephistopheles ' the spirit who always denies.' Ostensibly 290 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. the demon has been compelled to appear by Faust's magic ; but in truth he is only the expression of Faust's own discontent and egotism. ' Every man is tempted by himself/ and the evil that seems to come from without comes from within. Instead of the spirit who can reveal to the aspirant the mysteries of life and creation, it is the demon who would deny and destroy that now appears in a human form. It is, indeed, the man's own worse self that arises and stands before him. With a bitter sense of the duality of his own existence of the contrast between his ambition and its results Faust describes what he would call, in his mediaeval Latin, his whole curriculum mtfK as a failure and disappointment. He denounces all attractions that bind him to life, and closes a dreadful formula of imprecation by execrating the highest virtues hope, faith, and patience. When the utterance of the curse is concluded, a chorus of invisible spirits utter a lamentation : Woe, woe for thee ! a world how fair Hast thou destroyed in tby despair ! To the dark void the wreck we bear. mighty one, thou earth-born son ! In thine own soul build up, once more, The world, so fair, that we deplore ! The reply that Mephisto gives to the lamentation is very subtle. He suggests that the best way to build up a new life is to renounce all philosophy and to seize such sensual pleasures as the world affords. In the course of the conversation that follows, Faust more deliberately renounces all the hopes of his moral and intel- lectual nature, while the demon undertakes to supply the want of them by such wretched excitements as a sensual life can afford. Faust denies that the fiend, by means of ( all the pomps and vanity of this world,' can ever give satisfaction to the soul of man ; ' If ever/ says he, ' I am so charmed with any earthly pleasure that I say to any present moment, " Stay ; thou art so fair ! " then I yield myself, as your prisoner and slave, to suffer any doom that may be inflicted upon me.' This is the substance of the bond between Faust and Mephistopheles, which is forthwith signed in his own blood by Faust. Meanwhile, a young student has come to present letters of introduction to the professor. The genius of negation puts on XX.] 'FAUST.' 291 Faust's cap and gown and jocosely takes his seat in the professor's chair. A conversation follows in which the student talks with the old savant on the respective merits of several studies. Of logic, natural philosophy, and chemistry Mephistopheles speaks contemptuously, and of metaphysics and theology he presents to the student grotesque caricatures. The youth will hear nothing of law, and even the arch-sophist finds little to say in its favour; but he strongly recommends the study of medicine: not, however, for its merits as a science. The student listens with abject submission to some very bad advice, and then presents to the pseudo-philo- sopher, a little book of blank paper, begging that he will write in it some pithy motto, to serve as a memorandum of this interview. Mephistopheles writes down the words eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum, and the student departs, well satisfied, as if he had found a treasure. In the next scene an abrupt transition takes place from the professor's study to Auerbach's wine-cellar in Leipzig, where Faust is introduced to anumber of jovial fellows who are drinking, singing and quarrelling. Their buffoonery is distasteful to Faust, who will not accept their easiest of all solutions of life's problems. Though, he has recently denounced abstruse philosophy, he is not so soon prepared to enjoy its extreme opposite. It is evident that he must be tempted by attractions somewhat more refined thau such as are to be found in Auerbach's wine-cellar, and in order that he may be conquered, he must be made young again. Now follow scenes of enchantment in ' the witch's kitchen,' where a charm is prepared by which Faust is suddenly restored to the enjoyment of youth. The gray hair, the deep wrinkles and the stooping figure of the weary student are abolished, and all that experience had gained is also cast aside with the signs of old age. A vigorous, handsome and enterprising youth takes the place of the old professor of metaphysics. Faust under the guidance of Mephisto becomes, for a short time, a materialist of the most advanced school; he renounces the ideal, or all that cannot be made real and enjoyable. It is contrived by the enemy that his dupe, while in this mood of mind, shall meet the heroine of the drama Margaret, whom we can hardly describe otherwise than as a representative of Nature herself, in all the innocence imagined by poets and mystics. Her presence makes the contrast between Faust and his ' Companion ' u2 292 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. more apparent than ever before ; in the former all the nobler aspirations of his youth are revived, while the latter becomes more and more cynical. The poet writes here in perfect accord- ance with a maxim given by Leopold Schefer : ' a man's honour must be estimated according to his own estimate of women.' Such a maxim would have excited all the satirical power of Mephisto. He talks of Margaret so as to expose his own extreme degradation, and succeeds, for a time, in making Faust a slave to passion. Meanwhile, their intended victim is dreaming only of an affection as pure and faithful as that told of in the simple ballad she is singing: There lived a king in Thule who was faithful to the grave ; His love, when she was dying, to him a beaker gave. More prized than all his treasure that cup of gold remain'd ; His eyes with tears would glisten when he the goblet drain'd. When he was old and dying, his wealth he reckon'd up, And gave all to the princes except that golden cup ! And to his knights, all loyal, as were the men of yore, He gave a banquet royal in his castle on the shore. There stood the old king, drinking one long deep health the last- Then down among the billows that sacred cup he cast ; And as the cup was sinking he closed his eyes ; no more He drank the wine all rosy in his castle on the shore ! The evil ' Companion ' has cast aside his mediaeval encum- brances hoof, horns, and tail and, in a low but common sense of the word, is a gentleman ! smart with scarlet mantle, a cock's feather on his hat, and a rapier at his side. A slight halt in the left foot might "be concealed, but his sneer betrays him to Margaret's insight. She tells his character in a few simple words : You see that he with no soul sympathizes ; 'Tis written on his face he never loved. . . . Whenever he comes near, I cannot pray. Faust, under the influence of these suggestions, learns to abhor his ' Companion,' and, in a soliloquy, expresses a longing to be freed from contact with him : with this new joy that brings Me near and nearer Heaven, was given to me XX.] ' FAUST.' 293 This man for my ' companion ' ! He degrades My nature, and with cold and insolent breath Turns Heaven's best gifts to mockeries ! Meanwhile, with a foreboding of coming sorrow, Margaret, sitting alone at her spinning-wheel, is singing : My heart is heavy, my peace is o'er ; I shall find it never ; oh, never more ! Subsequent scenes in the drama blend together the most dis- cordant elements the highest passion and the lowest cynicism, ideal aspiration and the coarsest materialism, mysticism and prosaic common-place, ethereal, religious poetry, and the most profane caricature ; all are strangely mingled. The highest in- terest throughout belongs to the beautiful character of Margaret, whose innocent love is made the means of urging her on to crime, misery, and insanity. It may remain a question whether the poet's power is more evident in the creation of this heroine, or in the embodiment of all that is cynical, envious and malignant in the person of Mephistopheles. The fiend is seen in a light of contrast that makes him more and more revolting, and Faust who once despised, now hates yet dreads, the tempter his destined companion through life ! By the blind passion of Faust and by the machinations of the demon, Margaret is surrounded with a cloud of guilt and disgrace, which becomes darker and darker ; though it can never be truly said to belong to her character. Her mother, her brother, and lastly her own child have been destroyed, and of two of these crimes she has been made an unconscious instrument. Without the use of sophistry or any palliation of guilt, she is made to appear innocent even when she is con- demned to die. But her soul is, nevertheless, tormented by the terrors of the guilt that belongs to others, and she seeks refuge in the cathedral, where she used to pray when a child. There an Evil Spirit haunts her as a voice while the tones of the organ and the choir, singing the Dies iry two or three ideas ; but these were so true and so powerful that they insisted on being converted into realities. The idea of liberty, pronounced, at first, so crudely in ' The Robbers,' was more and more purified and ennobled, as it passed through other forms of expression, in Fiesco, Kabale und Liebe, Don Carlos, Wallenstein and ' The Maid of Orleans ' until, at last, it shone forth splendidly in Wilhelm Tell, as a prophecy of coming liberation. ' Thousands who trembled not when the earth groaned under the weight of the despot's mailed cavalry ; men who, with fearless hearts, confronted the thunders of his artillery ; thousands who fell to be mingled with the ensanguined soil, on so many battle- fields ; all carried with them into the struggle the enthusiasm kindled by Schiller's poetry ; his songs were on their lips, and his Spirit fought along with them ! And if the time come again when such sacrifices shall be demanded for Fatherland, for morals and laws, for truth the poetry of Schiller shall once more inspire us, and his burning words shall be our battle-cry ! ' The above quotation from a speech delivered by Friedrich Vischer, at the centenary festival of Schiller's birthday (1859), may serve to express the enthusiasm awakened in Germany by the patriotism and poetic genius so well united in the poet's last drama. In the spring of 1804 and after a visit to Berlin, the poet suf- fered again from a severe attack of his constitutional malady, pulmonary consumption, from which he only faintly rallied ; and, about a year afterwards, the disease returned with fatal power. On April 28, 1805, he was seized with fever, and lay for about a week, still cherishing hopes of life. On May 6 he fell into de- lirium. On the 7th he seemed restored to self-possession, and began to converse with his sister-in-law on ' the nature of tragedy.' Fearing the excitement of his ruling passion, she exhorted him to XXI.] SCHILLER'S DEATH. 311 be quiet. ' True,' he replied, ' now, when no one understands me, and I no more understand mj'self, it is better that I should be /silent.' At the beginning of this illness he had regretted the interrup- tion it must occasion to his projected tragedy of ' Demetrius.' On the night of the 7th, the servant, watching by his bed, heard him reciting several lines from the drama upon which his mind was still engaged. In the morning, he called for his infant daughter, gazed upon her face, kissed her, and wept bitterly. In the even- ing of the same day, when his sister-in-law asked him how he felt, he answered, ' Better and more cheerful.' Then he longed to behold, once more, the setting sun ; they drew aside the curtains and he looked, for the last time, with a poet's sympathy, on the great light. As after a cloudy afternoon there comes, sometimes, a short season of splendour, just before sunset ; so it seemed, on Schiller's death-bed, that the character of the man, the father, and the poet was allowed to shine out for a few moments between the clouds of delirium and the darkness of death. The next day he was exhausted and speechless, and in the evening he breathed his last. Goethe was ill at the time of his friend's departure, and none durst tell the news. He observed the embarrassment of his friends and servants, and feared to demand the whole truth. The members of his household heard their master, so remarkable for his control of feeling, secretly weeping. On the next morning he asked, ' Was not Schiller very ill yesterday ? ' A silence followed. ' He is dead ! ' said Goethe, and covered his eyes with his hands. So died Friedrich Schiller, aged forty-five years. His life was short ; but it was a life, not a sleep. He had devoted himself to a great object, to win a high place among the poets and intellec- tual heroes of his country ; he used the means of attaining this end ; he studied long and felt deeply, esteeming his vocation more than his earthly life and he gained his object ; he was crowned with more than the admiration, with the love of his people, and died as he touched the goal. ' He lived as a Man, and as a mature Man he departed from us. In that form in which one leaves the earth he still lives and moves for us in the world of spirits. Achilles is, for us, still present as an ever-striving youth. That Schiller went away early is for us also a gain. From his tomb there comes to 312 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. us an impulse, strengthening us, as with the breath of his own might, and awakening a most earnest longing to fulfil, lovingly and more and more, the work that he began. So, in all that he willed to do, and in all that he fulfilled, he shall live on, for ever, for his own nation and for mankind.' Thus GOETHE spoke of his departed friend, SCHILLER. The question sometimes discussed by young students, 'Whether Schiller or Goethe is the greater poet ? ' was long ago answered by the younger poet, who was ' too clear-sighted and modest ' (as Mr. Carlyle has observed) to claim equality with his friend. Tho breadth of mind and the comprehensive sympathy of Goethe were we might almost venture to say excessive. In Schiller's mind the height is more remarkable than the expanse. In Goethe's best poems art and nature, thought and its symbol, are united, fused and welded together. In Schiller's poetry we find division ; there is a visible strife between the thought and its symbol. The idea seems to be discontented with its incorporation, and endea- vours, again and again, to assert itself in an abstract form. The poet first fixes his attention on some noble thought, and then proceeds to find imagery for its expression ; but, after all his endeavour, the thought is left too often solitary or abstract, as if too pure and high to be incorporated. This abstract elevation may be seen in the drama of Don Carlos ; especially in the con- versation between Philip II. and the Marquis of Posa. Here, as in many other passages, we are reminded, that the writer was not contented with his vocation as a poet; he wished to analvse and systematise his thoughts, and he had an earnest desire to teach. How lofty his thoughts of his own duty were, may be seen in a passage from his ' Letters on ^Esthetic Education ' which has been often quoted, but is too characteristic to be omitted here : ' The Artist is the son of his time, but it is not good for him that he should be its pupil or even its favourite. Let some beneficent divinity snatch him, while he is a suckling, from the maternal bosom, that, under a distant, Grecian sky, he may be nurtured with the milk of a better time. And when he has arrived at maturity, let him return to his own century and appear there, not to give pleasure to his cotemporaries, but like Agamemnon's son to chasten and to purify them.' To understand the force of these expressions we must refer to the low literature of the times when XXI.] SCHILLER'S IDEALISM. 313 Kotzebue ruled in the theatre and Clauren supplied novels and romances for crowds of readers. Schiller's endeavour to avoid all that is common and mean led him to the opposite extreme of ideal abstraction. His views of human life were lofty, but were not comprehensive. If he did not despise, he neglected to study, many common, lowly realities. His poetry is therefore the antithesis of such poetry as was written by our English realist George Crabbe. ' Nature's sternest painter ' could look on life with a poet's eye as his story of ' The Lover's. Journey ' might prove but he would not describe either an Arcadia or a Utopia as possible in a world like this. As he travelled through life, he stayed to look into workhouses, prisons, and 'the huts where poor men lie,' and he became so much in- terested in his duties as an inspector of miseries, that he forgot all about Utopia. His poor people hardly ever look up to heaven. Crabbe lived in the present, and looked around on the objects the hard facts presented by every-day life ; Schiller looked around him, but more frequently, upwards and onwards, . as we see him in one of his portraits. He despised, or he defied low realities, and boldly uttered his belief that, after all the failures of which history is the record, men shall enjoy, first moral, then political and social freedom. The poet who will pass through all Crabbe's realism and arrive at Schiller's idealism will be a new phenomenon in literature. The differences of intellect and character existing between Schiller and Goethe have been accurately described by German critics ; but the agreement of the two poets in their thoughts of the vocation of literature has hardly received due attention. One of the objects professed by the writers of the Romantic School, who made themselves prominent near the close of Schiller's life, was to assert that literature and art (including poetry) should be closely united with a religious faith and with the institutions of practical life. To find such a union, they proposed to do that which was utterly impossible to return to the social circum- stances of the middle ages. Both Goethe and Schiller had thoughts and hopes of a more harmonious world than the present; but they looked forward and into the future for the realisation of their hopes. Their views of the progress of society were far in advance of the notions prevalent in their times. Apathy had, too generally, followed the great failure of the E evolution and, 314 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. (as Schiller said) men who had been ' terrified by freedom assert- ing itself as negation and destruction were too ready to fall into the arms of any protecting despotism.' But, against all the dis- couragements of that age, the poet of freedom maintained his own faith, and there was more sobriety in his doctrine than in such as had been taught by some ' philosophers ' of the eighteenth century ; for he held that freedom could never come from without to any man or to any nation. So lofty, however, was the poet's notion of the culture which he styled aesthetic that he made it though not a substitute for morality a most important aid for the renovation of society. It may be asked, Did Schiller give due attention to the historical fact, that the idea of freedom for all men was first introduced to the world by the Christian Religion ? However that may be, the poet like his friend Goethe had no faith in any such changes as can be produced by external and superficial politics. He was, after all that has been said of his idealism, more practical than some grave men who have talked derisively of ' dreamers.' The writer of such poems as the ' Eleusinian Festival ' and the ' Song of the Bell ' suggested a future poetry in harmony with life and culture. He endeavoured to widen his own sympathies, when he came near to the close of his career and was fully conscious of his own defects. From his philosophical essays and letters, his poems and his life, there shines out a noble ideal of a poet's mission. He must not be content (as we understand Schiller) either with dreams or with the so-called realities of the present, and he must not think that his duty is fulfilled by declamation against the errors and miseries of the world. He must feel that the genius which inspires him is the true catholic element of human nature and pene- trates the souls of all. He must be content to see those visions of beauty which his songs anticipate not coming with sudden and triumphant fulfilment of the hopes and desires of prophets in all ages ; but slowly breaking through the clouds of dark and painful realities, beaming forth gently as the morning light, and shining more and more to the perfect day. He must neither forfeit the real nor the ideal ; but must see good in the contradic- tion between them, as it is the condition of faith, constancy, activity, and enterprise. He must not hope to live in a region of indolent contemplation, where beauty and poetry and truth will XXL] SCHILLER'S INFLUENCE. 315 be found ready-made all around him ; but he must feel that he is called to be a maker to Stifle the contradictions of his fate, And to one purpose cleave his being's godlike mate. The influence of a sincere and genial literature is wanted to soften the contradictions which exist between our poetry and our actual life, our best faith and our practice; and, to fulfil his duty in promoting such a literature, the man endowed with the gift of song must add to the power of imagination the virtues of faith, fortitude, and patience, and, in short, must strive to be a good man as well as a great poet. That endeavour made Schiller noble. To conclude he was eminently an ideal poet, but facts should reprove the error of taking the word ideal as always a synonyme for unpractical. The true ideal is spiritual and operative. In- tense thoughts are just as expansive as they are intense, and lofty aims are like lights on high towers seen at a great distance. To descend to facts the influence of Schiller's poetry on the characters of young men in Germany has been so important, and is so closely united with the memory of his life, that this sketch of his biography can hardly be out of place here. There is no modern writer to whom the young men of the German Empire are so much indebted as to FRIEDRICII SCHILLER. 316 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cir. CHAPTER XXII. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. SCHILLER'S WHITINGS : ' THE ROBBERS ' ' FIESCO ' ' INTRIGUE AND LOVE ' ' DON CARLOS ' HISTORICAL STUDIES AESTHETICS BALLADS LYRICAL POEJIS POEMS ON THE HISTORY OF CULTURE LATER DRAMAS: ' WALLENSTEIN ' 'MARIA STUART' 'THE MAID OF OR- LEANS ' ' THE BRIDE OF MESSINA ' ' WILHELM TELL.' SCHILLER'S writings belong respectively to three periods in liis short life : youth, middle life, and the last decennium. The lyrical poems and the dramas of his early life are his weakest productions. After years of wandering and striving against poverty, lie cast poetry aside and studied history and philosophy. Then followed a happier time the last ten or eleven years of his life during which he wrote his best dramas and the well-l:nown series of ballads. Schiller sympathised, as we have said, with the revolutionary tendency of the time in which his youth was passed. Like some older men, he protested against all existing institutions and gained popularity by the use of violent declamation. There was no truth in the characters described in his first three dramas. Men were absurdly divided into two classes ; noble spirits on the right hand, and fiends on the left. A wild craving for negative liberty is the most remarkable trait in ' The Robbers ' and in ' Fiesco,' and the success of Kabale und Liele (' Intrigue and Love ') was partly gained by its attacks on the aristocracy. These three plays must be judged as the productions of a youth. In the play of 'Don Carlos ' written at various times in 1784- 87 the poet moderated his revolutionary fervour and expressed a wish to build up rather than to destroy. Though defective in unity and unfaithful to history, the drama, by its representation XXII.] 'DON CARLOS.' 317 of a noble but ideal character the Marquis of Posa won the admiration of many young readers. The story of ' Don Carlos ' departs widely from historical facts and is founded mostly on a French work by Saint-Re"al, which is nothing more than an historical romance. The Marquis of Posa is an entirely fictitious character, invented to give expression to the poet's own sentiments on civil and religious liberty. In a long conversation (Act iii. scene 10) Posa delivers, without interruption and in the presence of Philip II. of Spain, a series of lectures on the evil effects of tyranny. This is a gross improbability ; for it is quite certain that the hard and narrow bigot who caused the death of his own son would not hiive listened for one moment to such language as is here used by the advocate of liberty. Thus, for example, the enthusiastic Marquis of Posa ventures to express his sentiments (or rather Schiller's) in the presence of Philip II.: My home ! my fatherland ! There's none for me. Spain all belongs to j'ou, and not to Spaniards ; 'Tis the gigantic body for one mind Your own throughout that body you alone, As omnipresent, think and work to make Yourself a mighty name ; you flourish here And none can grow besides you. What you give Is but the food to gladiators given To make them strong to light for you. . . . Souls here can merely vegetate and die ; Genius and virtue grow to be cut down, As corn grows yellow for the reaper's scythe. In this direct style the Marquis (or rather Schiller placing himself in the sixteenth century) lectures the king for the space of about an hour, and Philip II. of Spain marvellous to say listens very patiently and is greatly edified ! "When he has heard the whole of the long sermon, he graciously extends his hand to be kissed by the faithful preacher, and invites him to call again as soon as possible. There could hardly be a grosser con- tradiction of historical facts. The play contains eloquent and enthusiastic passages of declamation ; but wants dramatic life and unity. The interest which, in the first three acts, has a centre in Don Carlos is afterwards transferred to the imaginary character of the Marquis of Posa. Schiller's youthful and vague enthusiasm for liberty was mode- rated by his historical studies, of which the results appeared in a 318 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. * History of the Kevolt in the Netherlands ' (1788) and in a ' History of the Thirty Years' War ' (1701-93). These writings give no proof of laborious research ; but advocate civil and re- ligious freedom, and have a tendency to support the doctrine, that ' the History of the World is the Judgment of the World.' The poet could hardly have chosen a more difficult historical subject than the Thirty Years' War. After his appointment at Jena (1789) Schiller devoted not a little of his time to a study of Kant's philosophical works, and the results of such reading and meditation appeared, in ' Letters on -Esthetic Education,' in the Essays ' On Grace and Dignity/ ' On the Sublime,' and 'On Naive and Sentimental Poetry/ and in the didactic poem entitled ' The Artists.' One of the poet's own doctrines is, that the study of beauty, as revealed in art, while it must not be made a substitute for moral training, may render essential service as an ally. The object of ethical education is to convert the obedience due to an apparently stern law into a free expression of love. As the ideas of goodness and beauty are united, though distinct, there must be a natural connection be- tween ethical and artistic training, however they may be separated by the errors and the frailties of individuals. Schiller extended to other departments of art his faith in the educational power of the drama, which he had professed in the lecture delivered at Mannheim in 1784. That faith he maintained, even while Kotze- bue reigned in the theatre. Schiller still asserted his own ideal and hopeful doctrine, and would not be discouraged by looking on realities. It must be added, that his philosophical writings want systematic arrangement. He criticised them fairly when he said : 'My poetry interferes with my philosophy.' He returned to poetry soon after 1794, and his finest ballads (written in 1797-8) combined successfully his inevitable didactic tendency with a study of artistic form. Almost every one of the series of ballads produced at this time serves to express and illustrate some important thought or precept. The ' Diver ' may perhaps be mentioned as an exception ; for we would not extort from it such a common-place maxim as ' be not too venturesome.' The whole story serves, however, as a symbol of perfect courage ; for the Diver, after he has explored the horrors of the whirlpool, and has been alone among the monsters of the deep, plunges a second time into the waves and returns no more. In the equally XXII.] BALLADS. 31 9 well-known ballad, ' The Fight with the Dragon/ the noble illustration given of self-conquest, as the greatest heroism, might have saved the poet from the reproach, that ' he knew nothing of Christianity.' The story told in this ballad is too well known to be again narrated except in the briefest form ; but it should be noticed as showing that the poet of liberty could write powerfully of Christian humility and obedience the bonds of society and the necessary attendants of true freedom. One of the Knights of St. John ('named Dieu-Donne de Gozon/ says Vertot, in his history of the Order) had, without receiving or asking permission from the Grand Master (Helion de Ville- neuve) sallied forth to attack a huge dragon which had spread devastation over a large district near Rhodes. Dieu-Donne had employed every precaution to insure success in his bold adventure. To train his charger and his hounds for the combat, he employed an artist to make an image of the monster, and, when the dogs were accustomed to attack the hideous effigy, they were led out against the dragon. The Knight returned victorious, dragging behind him the slain enemy, and accompanied by crowds of people loudly hailing their deliverer. Meanwhile, the Knights of the Order were assembled in conclave in their hall, and, when the hero appeared before them, he received from the Grand Master a stern reprimand for disobedience, and a command to divest him- self of his badge and to surrender all claims to the honours of Christian knighthood. The crowd of people who have pressed into the hall, expecting to see some great reward bestowed on their hero, stand in mute amazement when this heavy censure falls upon him, and some of his brethren come forward to plead for grace ; but the penitent meekly submits, takes off his badge, and, before he turns away, kisses the hand of the Grand Master. ' Here ! to my heart ! ' the Master cries ; ' Come back ! by deeds of valour done, You only risked the Christian's prize Which now your lowliness hath won.' The lesson artistically conveyed in ' The Cranes of Ibycus ' has a true and profound meaning. The Nemesis described as haunt- ing the transgressor is inseparably united with himself; a man's moral destiny is an evolution of his own character ; the Euminides are mere shadows for all save guilty consciences. This truth was 320 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. never more finely uttered in poetry than by Schiller. He found in Plutarch a story which might be treated so as to make it serve a higher purpose than that for which it was at first narrated. Plutarch, after telling the story of Ibycus, appends to it a shal- low moral, to the effect, that the murderers of the poet were betrayed, not b} r the cranes, but by their own garrulity. Ibycus, a Greek lyric poet (of whose writings some fragments have been preserved), was travelling, we are told, from his native place, Rhegium, to Corinth, there to take part in the Isthmian Festival. He was near the end of his journey, and was passing through the dark pine-wood consecrated to Neptune, when he was attacked by robbers, who murdered him for the sake of such small booty as a poet could carry with him. Ibycus, left alone and dying, looks up and sees, in the sky, a long flight of cranes, migrating to the south : ' Ye Cranes ! bear witness how I fall,' Said Ibycus, with failing breath ; ' If human tongues are silent all, Fly ! tell the story of my death.' The poet's corpse is found in the wood, and the news of his melancholy fate is soon spread among the people assembled at the games. Meanwhile, a tragedy in which the Furies appear is to be performed in the great roofless theatre, where all the tiers of seats are crowded with spectators, including many who knew and loved the murdered poet. Out of the dim background of the stage there come forth like remembered sins rising out of the gloom of a bad conscience the terrible forms of the Furies, the detectors and avengers of crime : Dark robes about their loins are flowing, And in their fleshless hands they bear Their torches, dimly, redly glowing; Their cheeks are bloodless, and for hair Instead of such as, soft and lithe, About a human forehead hangs See dusky snakes and vipers writhe And twist, and show their deadly fangs. Then, with their rhythm of long and slow paces, the Furies going round about on the stage, sing, with hoarse voices, How blest the man unstained by crime, Who keepeth clean both heart and hand ! XXII.] BALLADS. 321 He travels, free, through every clime. His steps we track not o'er the land ; But woe to him who from the light Would hide a murder in his breast ! The Furies daughters of the night Will follow him and give no rest ; Will follow ! Ay on pinions fleet, We follow ; we are everywhere ; The criminal, in swift retreat, Can only run into a snare ; And when he falls, 'tis vain for grace To pray to us forgiving never Down to the Shades, our dwelling-place, We drag the wretch our own for ever ! The silence that follows this terrible denunciation is suddenly broken by a strange outcry from the highest tier of the roofless theatre. A long flight of cranes is passing over and blackening the sky. The Furies have vanished into the dark background of the stage ; but the natural accident of the cranes appearing at this moment is made effectual for the detection of the two criminals. Nature and art conspire together to alarm a guilty conscience : ' There ! ' sounding from the loftiest tier A voice is heard : TimothSus, see I The cranes of Ibycus are here ! ' ' Why should a flight of cranes be associated with the name of Ibycus ? ' say the people, and their suspicions soon become convic- tions : ' Of Ibycus ! ' in accents low The people talk, and through the crowd, Like spreading waves, the murmurs go, Until they grow to voices loud ' Of Ibycus, whom we deplore, Who fell beneath a guilty hand, What have the cranes to tell ? Say more ! Speak out, that we may understand,' As by the lightning's flash revealed, The crime appears in open day ; ' 'Twas murder ; could not be concealed ; He has confessed ! ' the people say ; ' Seize there the murderer, self-betrayed, And him to whom the words were said I The Furies have their power displayed, And Justice will avenge the dead.' Y 322 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITEEATUKE. [On. Several other ballads written by Schiller during the years 1799-1803 (when he was chiefly employed in dramatic literature), are so well known that this brief reference may suffice. Of the early lyrical poems included in an ' Anthology ' (pub- lished in 1781), it may be enough to repeat what has been said of the early dramas they must be viewed as the crude produc- tions of youth. The ' Song to Joy ' belongs to the close of the poet's youthful time, and the poem ' Resignation ' has a biographical interest, and speaks of hopes unwillingly resigned. Another poem, Der Kampf (' The Combat '), contains only a part of an earlier and far wilder expression of passion. Both may be referred to as confessions that the poet, in his youthful time, longed for the so-called ' physical freedom ' which was, often enough, asserted in life as well as in poetry. But it must be added, that the subor- dination of passion to duty and the reconciliation of duty with happiness of which he speaks so well in his ' Letters on ^Esthetic Education ' were fully realised in his own life after 1790, when he married Charlotte von Lengefeld. Another poem of biogra- phical interest, Das Glilck ('Good Fortune'), may be named, be- cause it has been falsely imagined that it expresses some envy of Goethe's success in life. This supposition has in its favour only a few words in one of Schiller's letters to Korner, and the poem is clear enough in itself, without any reference to that letter. As one of the best examples of Schiller's ideal lyric poetry, the poem originally entitled ' The Realm of Shadows,' and, afterwards, ' The Ideal and Life,' deserves more attention than can be given here. It describes life as a battle-field where duty and inclina- tion struggle, and where aesthetic culture may afford an impor- tant aid in effecting a reconciliation of the contending powers. The true idea of freedom is expressed in this fine poem, and is again found in ' The Power of Song,' which blends lyrical enthu- siasm with true philosophy. Schiller had studied history, and was no cold spectator of the events taking place in his own times. He had a strong tendency to generalise, or to reduce to forms of pure thought, the results of his observations, yet, at the same time, he could not rest con- tented with this process, but wished to clothe his thoughts in poetic imagery. These characteristics are all united in a series of poems still to be noticed. The ' Song of the Bell,' completed in 1799, belongs to this series, which includes also ' The Walk,' and XXII.] 'THE WALK.' 323 ' The Eleusinian Festival.' In these poems the writer gives, in an imaginative form, his thoughts on the history of culture. In the first (which is well known everywhere), the various uses of the Bell call up, in the poet's mind, a succession of scenes in human life, and the progress of the individual is traced from the cradle to the grave. Then thoughts of the political movement of his own times lead the poet into a digression on the French Revolution, and the Song closes with a prayer for the advent of peace. ' The Walk ' is a fine poem of its class, in which thoughts on history and some reflective passages are well combined with a series of varied landscapes through which the poet wanders. Cul- tivated fields and gardens are left behind him, as he enters into a pastoral seclusion where dreams of Arcadia and of the Golden Age are suggested ; but a glimpse of some hamlets and scattered dwellings of men turns his thoughts to the growth of cities and to the history of civilisation. He describes its advantages and its splendours ; but his contentment is suddenly interrupted by a remembrance of the recent reign of terror. Meanwhile, lost in grave meditation, he has left behind him the valleys, with all their sights and sounds of rural life, and has ascended a mountain, where he is glad to find himself alone and yet, as he says, not solitary. The poem is thus concluded : But where am 1 ? My path is lost. I find Myself alone on wild and rock}- ground : Gardens and hedge-rows all are left behind ; No trace of human life or toil is found ; But rude, uncultured hills about me stand, And piles of rock await the builder's hand. The torrent from the mountain's melted snow Foams over rocks and roots of trees laid bare, And pours its waters in the dell below ; While o'er the desolate place, in the lone air, The eagle hangs, with outspread wings, on high, And knits the savage landscape to the sky. No winds can hither waft the faintest sound Of human joys or cares. Alone I seem, And yet am not alone. Thy arms surround Thy child, maternal Nature ! 'Twas a dream Of human woes that led me far astray ; But now thy presence drives my fears away ; From thee I drink once more a purer life ; The hopes of youth revive within my breast. T2 324 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. The minds of men, in a perpetual strife, Revolve from age to age, and find no rest ; While nature, in unfading youth and beauty, Obeys one everlasting law of duty ; Upon her constant bosom, ever green, Beneath her sky of never-fading blue, Lived all the generations who have been, And still her children find her fresh and new. And the same sun that, o'er some Grecian hill, Homer beheld, is shining on us still ! While Iffland and Kotzebue were gaining popularity by -writing common-place dramas, Schiller remained faithful, as we have said, to his noble idea of making the theatre a school for the people. The last six years of his life were mostly devoted to the fulfilment of this design. In his drama of Wallenstein (completed in 1799), the poet chose a very difficult subject; but it is national, and is connected with historical events of great interest. When, in the prologue, the hero is described as ' a Creator of Armies ' and ' a Scourge cf the Nations,' as ' unsatisfied, though he had attained the highest pinnacle of honour,' and as l falling, at last, a victim to his own unbounded ambition,' the words seem more fairly applicable to Napoleon I. than to Wallenstein, who could hardly be more selfish than his secret and his open foes, and who, after all his ambition, was raised only to the rank of a Duke of Friedland. The drama is arranged as a Trilogy ; but the Second Part is not independent. The First Part gives a succession of scenes among the rude soldiery Croats, Walloons, and others in Wallenstein's camp. In one scene their revels are suddenly in- terrupted by the arrival of a Capuchin Friar, who takes his stand among them and preaches boldly against their vices. His style consisting of a crude mixture of German with Latin, and garnished with puns might seem too absurd to be used even in a caricature ; but it is, in fact, a faithful representation of such sermons as were preached by the Augustine friar, Ulrich Megerle, of whom a brief notice has been given in our twelfth chapter. This is only one of many examples of Schiller's careful historical study of his subject. There are many passages in Megerle's sermons more eccentric than the following in the Friar's homily, as given by the poet : Neminem concutiatis ! (Violent hands on no man lay ,) XXII.] ' WALLENSTEIN.' 325 Neque calumniam faciatis ! (Never a word of slander say ;) Contend estate (be content) Stipendiis vestris (with your pay) And of your evil ways repent ! When the preacher proceeds to rail violently against their Commander-in-Chief, and to call him ' a heretic ' and ' a Nebu- chadnezzar,' the sermon is promptly brought to an end amid the loud outcries and threats of his soldiers, and the screaming friar is driven from the field. The impression left by these scenes in the Camp accords as well with facts as with Wallenstein's own estimate of his army, and affects our estimate of his subsequent conduct. In the Third Part of the drama, he gives his own account of the soldiery em- ployed as 'defenders of the faith.' Their Commander is here talking with a Swedish Protestant general : Your Lutherans are fighting for their Bible ; They are in earnest to defend their faith. . . . There's nothing of the kind among these men. . . . 'Tis true, the Austrian has a fatherland, He loves it well, and not without a cause ; But this so-called ' Imperial Army ' here Has neither faith, nor church, nor any home. It is but refuse, sent from foreign lands Into Bohemia. The Second Part Die Piccolomini serves as an exposition to the Third' The Death of Wallenstein.' The character of the hero, as described by historians, is complex and mysterious. He was the leader of vast armies, over whom he exercised a mar- vellous personal control. He had resolved to revolt against the Emperor, and had grounds for justifying such a resolution; but his indecision or procrastination in carrying his designs into exe- cution was fatal. Ascribing both his fortunes and his misfortunes to the influence of the planets, he was guided partly by the advice of an Italian astrologer. Thus too many motives are brought into action in the unfolding of the plot. The hero is represented as believing that the war-policy of the bigot Emperor Ferdinand II. would be ruinous to Germany, and if he held such a belief, he had some grounds for it. While these traits win sympathy for Wallenstein, there is little to be said in favour of his enemies, who secretly used against him the power he had conferred upon tb.'v>. What 326 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. cares the reader for Ferdinand the Second ; for Octavio Piccolo- mini ; or for the hirelings Buttler and Gordon, who assassinated their General ? The weakness of the drama is that it ends with a negation ; there is nothing that can be otherwise described in the triumph of Wallenstein's enemies. The theory may be entertained that he was a mercenary traitor ; but this is not stated in the tragedy. His character is left as mysterious here as in history. His trust in astrology and in his own power ; his indecision, and his revolt ; all lead to his down- fall. For two years he hesitates to act so as to punish imperial ingratitude ; then, when the deed is done, when he has formed an alliance with the Swedes, he gives his enemies time to conspire against him. For this neglect of precaution against foes there is, however, a noble excuse he believed them to be friends, and it was not his nature to mistrust them. He gives to his opponent Piccolomini the command of the Spanish forces, and trusts in the honour and friendship of the mercenary Buttler. Wallenstein is thus surrounded by danger, while dwelling in a repose founded not only upon self-confidence and astrological pre- dictions, but also on a belief in the sincerity of friends, when like crash after crash of a thunderstorm following a dead calm tidings of the failure of his plans and the defection of his friends are brought to him. But nought can break down his proud spirit. He is only roused to self-confidence when the worst news reaches him ; that his ' friend ' Octavio has, with all the Spanish forces under his command, decided to fight for the Emperor. All is lost for Wallenstein, who thus boldly encounters the ruin of his plans : I am as desolate as I was left After that diet held at Regensburg, When I possessed myself and nothing more ; But, since then, I have shown you what a man May do, when left alone. Strike off the twigs ! Yet here stand I the trunk and in the pith There's still creative energy, to make A new world all around me ! You have known How I was, once, an army in myself. . . . I am the same man still, and strong as ever. It is the spirit that builds up the body ; FEIEDLAND will fill his camp with followers. Lead on your thousands ! men once led by me To victories, but arrayed against me now They're but the limbs, and soon shall know their fate, When they rebel against the Head! XXII.] ' WALLENSTEIN.' 327 The hero, while speaking thus undauntedly, knows enough to crush the bravest spirit ; yet he knows not all. He suspects not that one of his most trusted followers Buttler while seeming faithful to his master in adversity, is in fact the confidential agent of the Emperor. The enemies of Wallenstein have surrounded him on all sides ; his plan for effecting a junction with the Swedes is too late in its execution, and when he advances to Eger, to fulfil his design, he only marches into a prison prepared for him. At the midnight hour, when without suspicion of treachery he has retired to rest, he is slain by assassins led on by Buttler, and paid by the Emperor. If the act was just, it was lamentable that it should assume such a cowardly character. The circumstances attending Wallenstein's death would even if he were clearly shown to have been a selfish traitor make im- possible any sympathy with his enemies. Whatever his trans- gression may have been, he is represented, in this drama, as a great mail, and such a man ought not to fall before a mean faction. If it be said that he falls because he has too blindly confided in his own power ; it may be true, but it is not stated in the drama. Nor is the indecision that, at times, was so remarkable, described here clearly as the cause of his ruin. If he falls simply as a traitor who meets such punishment as he deserves, the conclusion is rational ; but it is also common-place, and it does not agree with the exposition of the drama. We are left, then, without a satisfactory reply to the query, Who is the conqueror at the close of this tragedy ? ' It is,' says Hegel, ' the fall of a great man under a destiny both deaf and dumb. . . . Wallenstein is represented as a man who, by his in- dividual energy, holds command over a vast army ; for his inde- finite greatness of character even such aims as the restoration of peace to Germany, the winning of a sovereignty for himself, and great rewards for his followers ; all seem insufficient objects of ambition. Aspiring beyond earthly boundaries, he seeks guidance from Heaven, and would read his destiny in the stars. This vaguely ambitious character finds himself surrounded by smaller men of definite aims ; he becomes involved in their strategies, and he falls.' .... ' The close of the tragedy is unsatisfactory,' says Hegel ; ' life against life ! but here we have death against life, and incredible ! detestable ! death has the victory over life.' The diction of the drama is chaste, appropriate, and dignified. 328 OUTLINES OF GEEMAN LITEKATUKE. [Cn. The long episode containing the love-story of Max and Thecla has been highly admired by many young readers, and has beauty and purity in itself; but it must be condemned as having with the exception of one passage but little connection with the evo- lution of the chief dramatic interest. After completing ' Wallenstein,' the poet selected as the subject of his next drama another difficult historical character ' Maria Stuart.' Her imputed guilt is implied : but is cast into the shade by sympathy with her sorrows ; while the unhappiness of her later years is represented as a penance patiently endured. The motive of Schiller's next play deserved success. He en- deavoured to defend the character of ' the Maid of Orleans ' against the satire of Voltaire in La Pucelle. The poet could believe what the enlightened philosopher could not imagine ; that an ardent hatred of oppression may, without fraud, assume the character of inspiration. Historical probability and a generous interpretation of facts are both on the side of Schiller ; but it must be regretted that, after he had clearly distinguished the true heroine from the mean caricature in La Pucelle, he partly con- tradicted his own noble design by the arbitrary invention of an attachment existing between the heroic maiden and the English- man, Lionel the enemy of France ! Why should such a weak- ness have been thought possible ? The poet Platen might well protest against this sentimental episode. In the ' Bride of Messina ' we find such passages of splendid diction as were never surpassed by Schiller ; but his endeavour to introduce in this drama the form of the antique Greek Chorus is a failure. The indistinct notion of fate expressed in some parts of the drama suggested the deplorable ' fate-tragedies ' written by "Werner, Milliner, and Grillparzer ; but Schiller must not be held accountable for their absurdities. Schiller's first play was a wild rhapsody against law and order ; his last play ' Wilhelm Tell 'was a true prophecy of freedom. While writing of ' Gessler ' the poet was thinking of Napoleon I. ' I would like him if I could,' said Schiller, ' but I cannot ; his character is the extreme opposite of my own.' True ; for if the poet had one fixed idea it was that of national freedom. In ' Wilhelm Tell ' nothing is said in favour of that negative and destructive liberty of which Franz Moor declaimed so wildly in ' The Bobbers.' It is of freedom united with order, and de- xxii.] 'WILHELM TELL; 329 fended by venerable traditions, that the poet writes in his last completed play. For this freedom Schiller spoke out boldly in 1804, while his native land was in a disgraceful state of bondage. It was of Germany, divided against itself and trodden down, that he was thinking, more than of Switzerland, when he wrote the last words of the Swiss patriarch Attinghausen : Therefore, hold fast together ! firm for ever Let no free place be foreign to another ; Set warders, to look forth from all your hills, To call your Bund together, and, in the fight, Let all be ONE ONE ONE Schiller once thought of writing something in the shape of an apology for the literary sin of his youth. He was then in love with a shadow. In his later years he fixed his affections on true liberty the companion of national honour and of intellectual and moral culture and to this pure love he remained faithful. Thus he especially won the hearts of the German people. It is but too probable that neither Tell, the hero of the drama, nor his antagonist the despot Gessler ever existed, except in fiction. The story of Tell, as given by the chronicler Etterlin, is not supported by earlier writers, whose silence would have been hardly less than miraculous if such a hero had lived, or had been talked of before their times. These facts, however depressing to both students of history and lovers of romance, do not decrease the value of Schiller's drama. Its subject is the assertion of their national independence by the Swiss people, who, in fact, take the place of the hero in the drama. An earnest wish to justify the assassination of Gessler in the fourth act seems to have led the poet to add a fifth act, which may be described as an appendix. The same motive may have induced him to dwell so long on the principal scene in the third act, where Tell shoots at the apple placed on the head of his son Walther. We subjoin a quotation from this part of the play : [ WALTHER TELL, the son, stands under a linden-tree ; the apple is placed upon his head."] Tell [bends the cross-bow and places a bolt in the groove]. Make clear the way there ! Stauffdcher. Tell ! you will never venture it never ! See ! your knees tremble, and your hand is shaking. 330 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATUKE. [Cn. Tell [lowering the cross-bow]. All swims before my sight Landvogt ! spare me this ! Here is my heart [He bares his breast. Call here your horsemen ; let them tread me down Gessler. Your life is safe, when I have seen this shot What ! Men say you fear nothing, Tell ; your hand Can hold the rudder firm against the storm, As well as bend the bow. No tempests daunt you When you would aid the Switzers. Help them now ! Ay, in one moment save yourself and all ! [TELL, in an agony of doubt, and with hands quivering, looks first at the LANDVOGT, then to heaven ; then suddenly takes from the quiver another bolt. The LANDVOGT watches TELL'S movements.] Walther Tell. Shoot, father ! I am not afraid Tell. I must ! [He collects himself and takes aim. Rudenz [stepping forwards]. Landvogt, no more of this ! You cannot mean it ; 'Twas but a trial of the man's submission, And now your end is gained ; your purpose, urged Too far, must contradict itself; the bow Too violently strained asunder snaps Gessler. Pray, save your words till they are wanted, sir. Rudenz. But I will speak, sir ! and without a fear The Emperor's honour and the government That you would make detestable, for me Are sacred still, and, fearless, I declare This is not ALBKEOHT'S will ! his people here Shall not be made your victims ! I deny Your warrant for an act like this Gessler. How dare you ! Rudenz. The Emperor is my lord, and you are not I'm free-born, like yourself, and I will match Myself against you in all warlike virtue ; Were you not here to represent the king (Whose name I reverence, even when 'tis abused,) I'd throw my glove down for you ; you should give Account to me for words that you have spoken Ha ! you may call your followers. I am not Defenceless like these people ; I've a sword Let any man come near me ! Stauffacher [shouts]. The apple has fallen ! See ! Rosselmann. The boy's alive ! Walther Tell [leaping towards his father and bringing the apple], See, father, here's the apple ! I was sure You would not shoot at Walther xxii.] 'WILHELM TELL; 331 [TELL stands, for some moments, bent forwards, as if still following the bolt's flight; then steps on quickly to meet the boy, lifts and embraces him; then sinks helplessly on the ground. The bystanders look on him with sympathy. ~\ Leuthold. There was a shot ! Switzers will talk of that To the latest times Rudolph. Ay ! while these mountains stand On their foundations men shall talk of that ! [He gives the apple to GESSLER. Gessler. By Heaven ! the apple's split ! A master's shot Was that ! . . . Ha, Tell ! Tell [_steps towards GESSLER]. Vogt, what command you now? Gessler. You had another bolt there Yes ; I saw it What was your meaning? Tell [embarrassed]. Sir, 'tis our custom. Gessler. No, Tell ! that reply Will not suffice there was a meaning in it ; Speak out ! your life is safe ; I pledge my word What was that second bolt to do ? Tell. My lord, My life is safe, you say then hear the truth : If I had chanced to hit the boy, this bolt [He draws forth the bolt and looks fiercely at the LANDVOGT.] Should have pierced through your heart ! ay ; for I'm sure I should not then have missed my mark ! Gessler. Enough ! Your life is safe ; I gave my word for that And, now I know your temper, I'll be safe From such a marksman ! you shall spend your life Down in a prison, where neither sun nor moon Shall ever shine upon you more ! Away ! Come hither, men ! and bind him fast ! [GKSSt,KR's followers bind TELL.] How the cords that hound the Swiss hero were loosened that, by his power in rowing, he might save his own warders from a storm on the lake all the world knows. The above scene was necessary to introduce another in which the death of Gessler takes place. There is, even in the removal from the earth of such a monster as the Landvogt, something with which we cannot sympathise ; for Tell shoots from an ambush, while the tyrant is detained in a narrow pass. In the preceding scenes of the drama all that could be done by the poet has been well done to reconcile us if possible to the conclusion of the third scene in the fourth act, of which we translate a part : 332 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cu. [SCENE : The narrow pass of Kiissnacht. On the rock TELL appears, armed with a cross-bow.^ Along this close defile the Vogt must ride : There is no other way to Kiissnacht. Here I end my work, for which the place seems made. This alder-bush will screen me from his view, And hence my bolt can be more surely pointed. The rocky cleft will hinder all pursuers. Now, Gessler, balance your accounts with Heaven Your latest hour has sounded. You must go ! I once lived harmlessly, and only pointed My shafts against the creatures of the forest I thought not then of hurting human life : But you have driven from me all thoughts of peace ; Ay, you have changed the current in my veins To poison. When you forced the father's hand To point the shaft so near his darling bov, You made me think of aiming at your breast. Now, to defend my children and my wife I'll spend this shaft. When last I drew the string, 'Twas with a faltering hand, to strike the apple From my boy's head then, while I prayed in vain That I, a father, might be spared that trial, I made a vow (within my secret breast Breathed deeply God was witness of that vow) That the next target for my arrow, Gessler, Should be thy heart ! And now the vow I made In that dark moment of infernal pain Shall be fulfilled : it was a sacred oath. \_A Marriage Procession, accompanied with music, winds through the defile. . . . ARMGART, a poor woman, comes with her children, and occupies the entrance of the pass. . . . ] Friesshardt. Make clear the path ! Away ! The Landvogt comes ! [TELL retires. Armgart. The Landvogt comes ! [GESSLER, attended by RUDOLPH, enters on horseback.'] Gessler [to Rudolph^. Say what you will, I am the Emperor's servant, And all my care is to obey his wishes. He did not send me to this stubborn land To soothe these people. No ! the question now Is this who shall be ruler ; prince or peasant ? Armgart. Now is the moment ! Now I press my claim ! [She approaches GESSLER. Gessler. I did not bid the people to bow down Before the Hat, that I might laugh at them No ; but to bend the sinew in their neck, Which would not bow before their rightful lord. XXII.] 'WILHELM TELL.' 833 I placed the Hat there, in the road by Altdorf, To keep in their unwilling minds the truth That I am master, and must be obeyed. Rudolph. And yet the people have some ancient rights. Gessler. We have no time to talk about them now : There are more serious interests at stake. The Emperor's house must flourish : what the father Began so well, the son must now complete. This people is a stone upon our path And once for all they must submit. [ARMGART kneels in the way before GESSLER. Armgart. Mercy, lord governor ! Hear my petition ! Gessler. Woman, how dare you thus obstruct the pass ? Armgart. My lord ! my husband in a dungeon lies All his poor orphans -scream for bread. Have mercy ! Have pity, governor, on our distress ! Rudolph. What is your name ? who is your husband, woman ? Armgart. He was a peasant on the Rigi mountain, And mowed, for life, the scanty grass that grows Over the mouths of fearful chasms and sides Of rocks, where even wild cattle dare not climb. Rudolph [to Gessler]. Good Heaven ! a poor and miserable life ! I pray you let this wretched man be free : Whatever his transgression may have been, His life is a sufficient punishment. [To ARMGART You shall be heard ; but this is not the place : Apply to us when we arrive at Kiissnacht. Armgart. No, no ! I will not move, sir, from this spot Until my prayer is granted. Free my husband ! Six moons have o'er his dungeon passed away, And still he lies there, asking for a trial. Gessler. Woman, no more of this. Make clear the path ! Armgart. Justice for me, my lord ! You are our judge ! The servant of the Emperor and of God : Perform your duty. If you have a hope That Heaven may listen to your prayers, hear mine ! Gessler. Away, I tell you ! This audacious people ! [ARMGART seizes the reins of his horse. Armgart. Xo, no, sir ! I have nothing now to lose. You go not through this narrow pass until My prayer is heard ! Ay, you may knit your brow, And roll your eyes in anger I care not. I tell you that we are so wretched now, We care not for your fury ! Gessler. Woman, move ! Or over you I soon shall find a way. [ARMGART seizes her children, and throws herself with tiiem cm. the path before GESSLER. | Armgart, Ride on, then ! Here I lie with all my children. 334 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [On. Now trample on us with your iron hoofs ; It will not be the worst deed you have done ! Rudolph. Surely the woman's mad ! Armgart. For years you've trodden Upon the Emperor's people in this land. I'm but a woman ; if I were a man, I would do something better not lie here Down in the dust before you. Now ride on ! [ The music of the wedding-party is heard. Gessler. Where are my servants ? Call my followers To drag this wretched creature from the path ; Or I may act too rashly, and repent. Rudolph. Your followers are all detained, my lord ; A marriage-company obstructs the way. Gessler. I see it I have been too mild a ruler ; The people grow audacious in their talk ! They are not tamed and fettered as they shall be ; It shall be otherwise I swear ! I'll break Their obstinate will and bend their spirit down ; A new law shall be published in the land ; I will \_A bolt strikes him. He places his hand on his heart and speaks faintly. ,] O God, be merciful to me ! Rudolph. My lord ! What is it ? Whence came that ? God ! Armgart. He falls ! He dies ! The governor is slain ! [RUDOLPH has dismounted and hastens to support GESSLER.] Rudolph. What sudden horror this ! my lord, 'tis death Call for God's mercy ! pray ! your time is short. Gessler. That was Tell's bolt ! [He sinks from the saddle into the arms of RUDOLPH, who lays him down on the slope at the side of the road. TELL appears on the summit of the rock.~] Tell. You know the marksman ! Search not for another. Free are our huts, and innocence is safe ; The tyrant's hand shall vex the land no more. A brief criticism may be appended to this scene. However great the atrocity of which Gessler had been guilty, Tell, with his friends, should have met the despot face to face, as Arnold von "Winkelried encountered the Austrians at Sempach. The scenes of which Tell is the hero have been quoted, because their interest is almost complete in itself; but they are not the best parts of the play; they are hardly worthy to be compared with the scene (Act ii. scene 2) in which the gathering of the Swiss people at Riitli is represented. There Schiller makes the manly and sober orator, Stauffacher, assert the rights of the people on grounds that are truly religious. He preaches no new dreams XXII.] 'WILHELM TELL.' 335 about ' the rights of man ; ' but asserts the ancient, lawful, and constitutional freedom of the Swiss people, in harmony with the welfare of the whole empire of which they form a part. The moral strength of the drama has its centre and heart in the oration delivered by Stauffacher at Riitli. We must, as an act of justice to the poet, give a quotation from this speech. On reading it once more, we wonder again that Napoleon I. allowed ' Wilhelm Tell ' to be performed. It was no act of liberality ; but rather a mistake respecting the influence of poetry. What did he care for anything that a poor obscure poet at Weimar could say about liberty ? The mechanical Emperor heard of the success of the play, and sneered at the Germans for their admiration of a piece founded on a revolt (so called) by which their own empire in old times had lost a province. He could not imagine that there was anything greater or stronger than a vast empire held together (like the rudest and least durable works in mechanism) by a merely external power. The poet, with all his idealism, was, in the long run, a more practical man than the Corsican who in- vaded Russia and then went to Leipzig and to Waterloo. In the scene from which we quote a few paragraphs, the leaders of the Swiss people are assembled, at night, on a plot of meadow- land at Riitli, surrounded on all sides but one by rocks and trees. By steps cut among the crevices of the rocks and by ladders sus- pended from the cliffs, the confederate leaders of the people are hastening down to join the national gathering. A lake shines in the background and, in the distance, white Alpine mountains and glaciers are glistening in the moonlight. Stauffacher, one of the older members of the Bund ('union '), stands in the centre of the confederate patriots, and delivers a speech, which may be fitly called a German declaration of ' the rights of man.' It is as sober as it is enthusiastic, and gives us the poet's last ideas of liberty, which are strongly contrasted with the crude notions found in ' The Robbers ' : Stauffacher. We make here no new Hand, to-night, my friends ! It is the old, old Bund of our fathers' time \Ve renovate. Mark that, Confederates ! Lakes may divide us ; mountains rise between us ; Still we are all one race all of one blood We're all the sons of one dear Fatherland ! Aufder Mauer. All of oiie blood ! Ay ; and we've all one heart ! 336 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUEE. [Cn. [All the people shout; meanwhile grasping one another's hand.~\ We are one people ! We will act as one. Rosselmann. Our union with the empire was our choice ; That's written down by Kaiser Friedrich's hand. Stauffacher. Ay, we are free ! As free men we would serve ; We would be loyal ; there must be a judge, So that when strife begins, it may be ended, And, therefore, our forefathers, for this soil, Which was their own won from a wilderness Paid homage to the Emperor, the lord Of our own German and of foreign lands ; But it was paid by men whose rights were safe Within the realm ; they gave their lives to guard The realm that over them had spread its shield. lldchthal. Service on other terms is fit for slaves. Stauffacher. The land is ours ; it is our own creation ! By our own labour, those old gloomy forests, That once were lairs for wolves and bears, were felled, To make space for our homesteads, and the brood Of the old dragons that among the swamps Lurked, or, with venom swollen, issued forth For prey, were all destroyed ; the dense, gray fogs That hung o'er fenny pastures were dispersed ; The rocks were rent asunder ; over chasms Were flung these bridges, to make safe the way For passengers ; ay, by a thousand claims, The land is ours for ever ! Shall we bear it, That this, the creature of a foreign lord, Shall here insult us on our own free soil ? Is there no help for us ? Must we bear this ? \_A. great commotion takes place among the peopled] No ! there's a limit to the tyrant's power. When men, oppressed, can find no aid on earth, To rid them of their burden, then they rise ; The people rise ; they stretch their hands to heaven, And thence fetch down their old, eternal rights ; Their rights, all like the everlasting lights There shining in the heavens unchangeable, Imperishable as the stars themselves ! Then nature's own primeval rule returns ; Man stands in battle, ready for the foe. 'Tis our last means ; but, when all others fail, We draw the sword ! The best of all life's boons We will defend ! In front of this our land And of our wives and children, here we stand ! The instantaneous and splendid success of this patriotic drama is noticed in a letter from Zelter to Goethe : ' Schiller's " Tell/' ' says Zelter, ' has been received here, in Berlin, with the liveliest xxii.j 'WILHELM TELL; 337 acclamation, and has been played thrice in the course of the last eight days. The people like the apple well.' This was only the beginning of a success, not confined to theatres, but soon spreading, as with electric energy, throughout the people, who felt and understood all that the poet had intended to say to the men of his own nation. He had talked of making the theatre serve as a school for teaching virtue and patriotic devo- tion. A more hopeless ideal could then hardly have been dreamed of. Frivolities served as opiates to relieve a sense of national degra- dation, and enthusiasm was made to appear ridiculous. Kotzebue, it was judged, was a poet quite good enough for people who were governed by a despot possessing neither French nor German virtues. At a time when the continent was crouching under a theatrical revival of oriental despotism ; when men and women were expected to submit to such discipline as would hardly be tolerated by boys in a respectable school ; when the moral evil of tyranny was not more apparent than the contemptible nature of the means employed to uphold it ; when it was expected that intelligent nations could be governed by an intellect which, though urged by a mighty will and skilful in strategy, belonged to the mechanical class ; at such a time, Schiller persevered in striving on towards his ideal, in working not for the market, such as it was but for Germany. And he succeeded. So great was his success that after all that has been said of his defects there are still thousands of readers who will not think that we have assigned too many pages in this book to an account of the life and the works of FRIEDRICH SCHILLER. 338 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATUKE. [CH. CHAPTER XXIII. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. SCHILLEH'S COTEMPORARIES JEAN PATL MINOR POETS PROSE FICTION LOW LITERATURE THE DRAMA. NEXT to Schiller's endeavours to improve the drama, the most important movement in literature, at the beginning of the nine- teenth century, was the rise of the Romantic School, represented by the brothers Schlegel and other writers. Whatever may be thought of the value of their services in connection with religion, art, and political life, it is clear that they led to important results, and had an effect on the progress of general literature in the period extending from 1800 to 1820. Without attempting to speak very precisely, it may be said, that the Romantic School became powerful at the time when Schelling taught his first philosophy (at Jena), and that it declined rapidly when Hegel's teaching prevailed. In order to give a connected account of the school and its associated interests, it will be convenient to notice first a few authors who can hardly be classed in any other way than by saying, that they were the cotemporaries of Schiller. To follow the beaten track of several literary historians, we ought to mention in the first place a few versifiers who were ambitious enough to write epics ; but we cannot so highlv esti- mate the value of form as to place epic writers like Alxinger and Blumauer, or even their superiors, the lyric poets Holderlin and Matthison, above a greater poet who wrote in prose, and who though justly censured for many faults had a wide grasp of sympathy and an imaginative power that distinguish him from many of his versifying cotemporaries. In 1796, when Goethe and Schiller had left far behind them the days of Sturm und Drang, there came to Weimar 'the sacred citadel,' as he called it an enthusiast and humorist who XXIII.] JEAN PAUL. 339 had recently gained fame by writing a book called 'Hesperus.' He was a genial child of nature, and came from Hof, an old town in the Baireuth district, where he had been living in extreme poverty, of which he made no secret ; indeed, he rather gloried in it. Of a world where pretension and disguise are the highest virtues, and where poverty is almost the only sin that can be neither gilded nor forgiven, the writer of ' Hesperus ' had no con- ception. He had ' a genial time ' of his own ; it began in his childhood, continued through all his privations, and ended when he died. His literary life was commenced by the mistake of writing some satires intended to be sharp ; but he ' closed,' as he said, ' the vinegar manufactory ' in 1788. His first visit to Goethe at Weimar is described as the introduction of a wild ' forest-man ' to polite society. Nevertheless, he was received with enthusiasm by Herder and VVieland, and was lauded by some other people who wished, if possible, to rex Goethe ; but the attempt failed, for the latter was incapable of so base a passion as envy. The literary hermit from Hof enjoyed his introduction to the society of Weimar. ' All the women here are my friends ' (he wrote to one of his correspon- dents), ' and the whole Court reads my books. I felt shy on my first visit to Goethe ; for Frau von Kalb had told me that he admired nobody ; not even himself. . . . However, he read to me one of his splendid unpriuted poems ; the tones of his voice, while reading, were like low thunder with gentle whisperings of rain. His heart warmed while he was reading, and the fire glowed up through the ice-crust. He gave me a grasp of the hand ; another, when he said good-bye, and asked me to come again.' It is plain that, though Goethe did not think ' Hesperus ' a classical work, he might have agreed well with the genial and humorous author ; but some gossips at Weimar made a distance between the two men. Schiller in his literary journal, Die Horen, had called Goethe a modern ' Propertius,' and Jean Paul Richter, the man from Hof, said (truly enough) that ' the times wanted a Tyrtaeus.' This was of course reported to Goethe, who retorted by publishing in Die Horen a satirical epigram entitled ' A Chinese Visitor in Rome.' With a reference to Jean Paul's style, the celestial visitor con- fesses that he likes all sorts of gilt-gingerbread decorations better than the simplicity and quiet beauty of the antique. At a later time, Goethe spoke more kindly of Richter. JOHAXX PATJL FBIEDRICH RICHTEB (commonly called JEAN z2 340 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. PAUL) was born in 1763 at Wunsiedel in the Baireuth district. His father, who was in his early life a schoolmaster and organist, was appointed pastor at Schwarzenbach in 1776. Jean Paul's writings abound in pleasing recollections of his youthful days, though they were passed in poverty. After some schooling in the gymnasium at Hof and a course of studies at Leipzig, he made the crude attempts in satire already referred to, but without success. He was for some time employed as a private tutor in several families, and, after the publication of an incomplete romance entitled ' The Invisible Lodge ' (1793), gained a reputation as a humorist. His later works include 'Hesperus' (1704), 'Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces' (1796), 'The Life of Quintus Fixlein ' (1796), 'Titan' (1800-3), 'Wild Oats,' and several other very discursive romances. In 1798 he was induced by his friendship for Herder to visit Weimar a second time, and there he stayed until 1800, when be went to Berlin. A few years afterwards he re- ceived a pension which enabled him to live in modest and com- fortable circumstances at Baireuth, where he died in 1825. His biography ('Truth from Jean Paul's Life'), partly written by himself and completed by friends, explains many traits in his writings. It has been said that Jean Paul is fully appreciated only by his own countrymen, and it may be added, that among his German critics great differences may be found in their respective estimates of his merits. Readers who admire his youthful enthusiasm, his fertility of imagination, and his genial humour often blended with pathos, have given him a place among the true poets who have written in prose ; others, wbo maintain that beauty of form is an essential part of poetry, have severely criticised even the best of his writings. Both parties agree that his romances contain abun- dant evidences of a breadth of sympathy as remarkable as the wide range of his imaginative powers. His rural descriptions and his stories of lonely, persevering battles with poverty are his most successful passages ; but he luxuriates in the wildest liberty of imagination, and it is his humour to soar away from all such domestic quietudes as he wrote of in ' The Invisible Lodge/ and to speculate or dream on remote, mysterious and incomprehensible subjects. His reading was diffuse, and its results were given 'in season and out of season.' Accordingly his writings contain fragments carried away from all classes of literature and thrown XXIII.] JEAN PAUL. 341 together. He fills his pages with the results of the most mul- tifarious reading ; so that, sometimes, to understand one of his stories, one must be something of a geologist, a chemist, an as- tronomer, a natural historian, and an antiquarian. If a deluge should break in upon some old museums, and bear away on its billows promiscuously-scattered curiosities in all the sciences, it might afford a symbol of his style. Or, if anyone would collect some hundreds of miscellaneous quotations from works of science, old histories, and modern newspapers, put them together and shake them well in a bag, then write a story to employ them all as they came to hand, he would make some approach to Jean Paul's style. Indeed, he actually wrote on a plan similar to that just suggested ! All this and more that has been said by critics on Jean Paul's aesthetic offences may be summed up in the epigram which Schiller addressed to him : ' You would indeed be worthy of admiration, if you made as good use of your riches as others make of their poverty.' After all that may be said of his rococo manner, there is a certain consistency in his works ; but it is to be found (as Goethe says) only in their moral tone. In other respects they are ill-con- structed and unfinished. The Flegeljahre (' Wild Oats '), esteemed by the author as his best work, is so lengthy in descriptions and so microscopic in details that it must tire the most patient reader. ' The true way of ending with ennui is to try to say everything ; and the author who cannot limit himself does not know how to write.' It must be regretted that Richter never learned the value of these maxims. If he had studied them, there would have been less difference of judgment respecting his merits. There may be found in his works more of hearty sympathy with life than we find in thousands of books by authors who have treated literature as an amusement, and have written clear, cold thoughts in a correct style. With these remarks, which include the substance of many critiques, the praise and the blame bestowed on Jean Paul may be left to moderate each other. There is only one way of conveying a true notion of his genius, and that is to give a fair selection of passages from his writings ; but this can be done here only in the form of abridged translations. JEAN PAUL wrote sixty-five volumes of tales, romances, di- dactic essays, dreams, visions, and homilies. Considering their voluminous extent, his works have, with all their rich variety of 342 OUTLINES OF GEEMAX LITEKATUEE. [Cn. imaginative illustration, a remarkable similarity in their leading ideas. By his early attempts in satire the ' Greenland Lawsuits ' and the ' Selection from the Devil's Papers ' he gained some experience of his own defects. Then he abandoned the attempt to write sharp and direct satire, and wrote, with genial httmour r of the sorrows and the consolations of poverty as exemplified in the experience of ' the poor little schoolmaster Wuz/ There is a noble playfulness in the author's descriptions of the hardships- with which he was too well acquainted. In another story of a schoolmaster (very poor, as a matter of course) JEAST PAUL tells how his starving hero yielded to the strong temptation of pur- chasing a lottery-ticket, giving him a chance of becoming the owner of ' certain desirable estates, named respectively Walchern and Lizelberg, and charmingly situated between Salzburg and Linz !'.... ' The circumstances of poor Seemaus (the forlorn schoolmaster) had been as the government seemed to think exactly suitable to his wretched and obscure profession.' Thus the author continues the story : ' When Moses was preparing to become the teacher and the lawgiver of the Jewish people, he fasted forty days upon a mountain ; and from this sublime ex- ample our legislature seems to have deduced the conclnsion, that the man who would be the guide and teacher of the rising genera- tion, must prove his capabilities by his endurance of fasting. A starving schoolmaster is consequently one of the features of our civilisation, and Seemaus is a perfectly normal specimen of his- class. Under the excitement of a lottery-ticket his frail nerves- are quivering, and in a letter which he has sent to me, he ex- presses an apprehension that if he finds himself on June SO owner of "the princely estates of Walchern and Lizelberg. peopled by 1,000 families ; also, the new and spacious mansion, with the brewery, and the 700 acres of forest, with shooting and fishing'' he shall die for joy f His letter contains the following paragraph : ..." In my excited condition, I bave.been so in- judicious as to read several chapters of a translation of ' Tissot on Nervous Disorders,' in which I have found several accounts of persons who have died under the influence of sudden joy. For instance, we read of a pope dying in his delight on hearing of a victory gained by his friends, and of a hound which died in the joy with which it hailed its master after a long absence. Weber tells a story of a man whose nerves were so much affected by. XXIII.] JEAN PAUL. 343 a sudden shower of good fortune, that he became paralytic, and was afflicted with stammering. The ' Nuremberg Correspondent ' has lately given an account of two great bankers who both died suddenly in one day, one in joy on receiving a large profit, and the other in sorrow for a heavy loss. I have also read of a poor relation of Leibnitz, who heard with calmness the news of a rich legacy bequeathed to her ; but when the real property the costly linen and valuable silver plate were spread out before her eyes, she gazed upon them for a moment in silent ecstasy, and immediately expired ! What, then, must I expect to feel when I look upon the princely estates of Walchern and Lizelberg, &c. &c. &c., and realise the fact that they are mine ! " ' To appease the natural fears of the hopeful but timid pedagogue, the poor author writes to confess that he has been guilty of the same folly ; he has purchased the lottery-ticket numbered 19,983. ' If,' says he, ' this number prove the winning card in the game, what a destiny will be mine ! According to the proclamation made under royal authority at Munich, I shall possess, in the first place, " all those most desirable estates named respectively Walchern and Lizelberg, in the district of Hausruckviertel, charmingly and beautifully situated between Salzburg and Linz ; estates which, even in the year 1750, were valued at 231,900 Rhenish florins ; item, the saw-mill in excellent repair, and the complete brewery situated at Lizelberg Such is the gold mine of which I shall be the possessor if niy ticket (one out of 36,000) prove fortunate, of which I am strongly disposed to hope. .... So now I can put my finger on the spot in my almanac marking the day when, like an aloe suddenly bursting into bloom after forty years without flowers, I shall expand my golden blossoms, and flourish as the Croesus of our times I can assure you, my dear friend, that I fully sympathise with your excited feelings, for I am now in circumstances exactly like your own Many others around me are hoping and fearing to evaporate in joy on that daj-, and such is the benevolent feeling prevailing here that everyone b willing to become a martyr for the benefit of his fellow ticket-holders willing, among 36,000 men, to be the one man doomed to die ! . . . However, as you wish to cherish your hope of gaining Walchern, Lizelberg, the excellent saw-mill, and the complete brewery, &c. &c., without giving up all hope of life, I will give you some means of calming S44 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. your fears. Allow me to recommend to you an umbrella to defend your head against the sudden thunder-shower of gold ; or a parasol to guard you from the sun-stroke of good fortune. The danger to be apprehended when we step suddenly into the posses- sion of such enormous wealth is, that our minds will be unpre- pared to cope with our external circumstances. A thousand schemes of expenditure will at once present themselves. While our nerves are tingling with delight, and our veins are throbbing, the brain will be oppressed by ideas too vast, too new, and too numerous to be comprehended, and even the fatal explosion which you apprehend may take place. To prevent such a calamity, we must now calmly prepare ourselves for the great crisis. We must familiarise our minds with thoughts of the possession and the distribution of such wealth as will soon be ours. . . . Accord- ingly, I have made charts of the travels I shall enjoy during my first year in possession. ... If you could visit me now, you would find among my papers some elegant plans and elevations of houses (for after all that has been said in favour of the mansion, I shall build another to suit my own taste) ; item, an extensive catalogue for a new library ; item, a plan for the benefit of the tenants ; besides sundries, such as memoranda, " to buy a Silber- mann's pianoforte," " a good hunter," &c. &c. ' You will not be surprised to learn that I intend to con- tinue my authorship ; but it will be in future conducted in a princely style, as I shall maintain two clerks as quotation-makers and copyists, and another man to correct the press. But my great care has been to prepare a code of laws for my 1,000 families of subjects. . . . Allow me to remind you that you should be pre- .paring a magna cliarta for your subjects; for all rulers must be bound before they can be obeyed. . . . The old Egyptians wisely tied together the fore-claws of the crocodile, in order that they might worship him without danger. ' Prepare yourself according to my plan, and then you need not fear that the great gold mine will fall in and crush you as you begin to work it. At least let us enjoy for a few days the hope for which we have paid twelve florins : let us not spoil it with anxieties. This hope is like butter on a dog's nose, which makes him eat dry bread with relish. With their noses anointed with this butter, all our fellow ticket-holders are now eating their bread (black, brown, or white, earned by toil, or tears, or servility) with XXIII.] JEAN PAUL. 345 an extra relish. This, for the present time, is a positive enjoyment, and if we are wise, we shall not disturb it.' This is an example of Jean Paul's quiet style ; but it shows only one side of his character. It was his humour to range from one extreme to another, and a great part of his writings consists of variations on the themes given in ' The Invisible Lodge ' and in ' Titan ; ' the first idyllic, the latter containing some rhapsodies according well with its title. The stories of ' Quintus Fixlein,' ' Siebenkas ' and ' Der Jubelsenior,' are passages of transition be- tween 'The Lodge' and 'Titan.' Of the last-named romance it would be as hard to give a concise account as to give a notion of a forest by selecting a few twigs. But, on the whole, we may venture to say, that Jean Paul's success is in inverse ratio with his ambition, and that his longest works are not his best. In ' Siebenkas,' as in other tales, the author harps too much on the contrast between the real and the ideal. The Ideal is here represented in the person of a poor author ; the Real is his wife, who plies her needle while Siebenkas writes. A collision between the Ideal and the Real is thus described : ' The evil genius who delights in raising matrimonial disputes out of mere trifles had thrown into the way of our hero a classical anecdote of the wife of Pliny the Younger, who (it is said) held the lamp over her husband's table, while he was employed in writing. Siebenkas admired this example, and, as he had no lamp, he suggested that his wife might, by snuffing the candle for him, imitate, in a humble way, the conduct of that noble Roman lady. Lenette closely engaged with her needlework allowed the snuff to rise almost above the flame, and after receiving a lecture on this offence, promised to do better another time This promise was duly remembered the next evening ; for now she would hardly keep her fingers from the snuffers for five minutes. As Siebenkas expressed by frequent nods his thanks for her attentiveness, she imagined that she could not be too active, and was thus led into an extreme. Her husband observed this, and said, " Try to preserve a just medium." But again Lenette was too hasty. " Really," exclaimed Siebenkas, " was there any need of snuffing then?" Lenette now tried to find "the just me- dium," but it was too late. " Now, now ! " said the author. ' 1 .e XXIII.] LYEICAL POETEY. 353 tiresome. Goethe (who firmly believed in the soul's immortality) was annoyed by incessant arguments about it, introduced by 'ladies, who,' as he said, 'had nothing else to do.' ' When they examined me on the doctrine,' said he, ' I told them, I hoped to meet in another world none of those who believed in it here. For how should I be tormented ! The pious would throng round me and say, " Were we not right ? Did we not predict it ? Has it not happened just as we said ? " A less tedious didactic versifier, CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH HAUG, was a humorist who wrote besides lyrical poems and ballads one hundred epigrams, all sportively addressed to one of his friends who had a very long nose. The following may serve as a sufficient specimen of Hang's hyperbolical style : When you were lying on the ground And looking at the sky, the people, In all the hamlets far around, Said, ' Look ! they've built another steeple.' Of all the young poets who were followers of Schiller, the most promising was FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN, born in 1770. He studied at Tubingen, visited Schiller at Jena, and was afterwards engaged as a private tutor. His enthusiastic admiration of the life, the poetry and art, and even the religion of the ancient Greeks was not an affectation, but. a fixed idea. It was expressed in his romance, ' Hyperion, or the Hermit in Greece ' (1797), as well as in odes and hymns written in antique metres and showing both earnest feeling and imaginative power. After leaving a situation in Bordeaux, the poet wandered alone through France, fell into a mood of deep melancholy, and, in 1802, was found almost entirely deprived of his intellectual faculties. In this deplorable condition still sometimes writing verses and often expressing a delight in the beauties of nature he lived on for the long space of forty-one years. The lyrical poems written by FRIEDRICH VON MATTHISON (1761-1831) were praised by Schiller, and must, therefore, have some merit ; but it consists mostly in their diction and their melodious versification. The well-known song, ' Adelaide,' set to music by Beethoven, was written by Matthison. His style was partly imitated by his friend JOHANN GATJDENZ VON SALIS-SEEWIS (1762-1834), who studied in a school at Colmar (kept by the blind fabulist, Pfeffel), and, afterwards, served in the French army. A A 854 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cir. His lyrical poems have a melancholy but not unpleasant tone, and there is true feeling in some of his descriptive passages. JOHANN GOTTFRIED SETTME (1763-1810), though included among lyrical poets, was more noticeable as a prose-writer and a bitter satirist. He was for some years a soldier ; then a corrector of the press, and to recruit his health travelled on foot through a great part of Europe, and published an account of his tour under the title 'A Journey to Syracuse.' It tells more of his own cha- racter and of his political opinions than of the scenery on his way. When he climbed Mount JEtna, he was accompanied, he tells us, by a travelling Briton, to whom he ascribes the following plati- tude given as an estimate of the view from the mountain : ' 'Tis worth a yoong man's while to mount and see this ; for there's not such a sight in the parks of Old England.' JENS BAGGESEN (1765-1826), a Dane, -who wrote some hu- morous and other poems in German, deserves to be remembered chiefly for his kindness to Schiller at the time when the poet's health failed. A strange epic, intended to be comical, on the subject of ' Adam and Eve/ may be mentioned as a proof of the writer's bad taste. He represents Eve as conversing in French with the Serpent. Baa'gesen was one of the most resolute oppo- nents of the writers belonging to the Romantic School. He hardly understood their best thoughts ; but he justly ridiculed some of their mannerisms. There is hardly anything in his lyrical poems better than his philosophical, bacchanalian song a parody on some of the phrases or formulse used in Fichte's system of philosophy. The first strophe may be rather freely translated as follows : Since old father Noah, his cares to assuage, First squeezed out the grape's purple blood, His example's been followed from age to age, Yet no man has understood, Hitherto, the strict logic of drinking : Men have tippled, as if the act Like living required not a word of instruction, Or could always be properly done without thinking ; Of toping, in fact, To this day, we have no scientific deduction I The subsequent stanzas of the song are better than this, but could not be readily put into English. Nothing of its kind can be better than the assumed philosophical gravity and the strictness XXIIL] LYRICAL POETRY. 355 of. logical sequence with which the Fichtean formulae are applied, and the conclusive result obtained by the process must have been amusing enough to the students at Jena, who respected Fichte, but could enjoy a laugh at his expense. The names of the minor poets, or versifiers, already mentioned, fairly represent the lower poetical literature of the age. We may, however, very briefly notice some specimens of poetry written by women. Some of the idylls and other poems written by AMALIE VON HELWIG a court-lady of Weimar are graceful. FRIEDE- RIKE BRUN imitated Matthison, whose own poems can hardly be called original. The name of another amiable poetess, KAROLINE RFDOLPHI, must be mentioned with much respect for her amiable character ; but her poems are less interesting than her book en- titled ' Pictures of Female Education ' (1808). She superintended, for several years, an excellent ladies' school at Heidelberg, and gave in her writings the results of her own observations on teaching. 'The formation of the characters of youn'g women,' says this writer, ' should be the matron's care ; but men ought to be our teachers in all studies that are purely scientific and in- tellectual. In vain would men vie with us in quick intuitive perception, or in delicacy of feeling, and as vainly might we attempt to rival men in the depth or the close order of scientific thinking. Women educated mostly among men lose their best distinctive qualities, and women confined to the society of their own sex become narrow in their minds and their sympathies.' These remarks are noticeable as contrasted with more recent doc- trines on the education of women. Karoline Eudolphi describes as unnatural all rivalry between men and women. In Schiller's literary journals Die Horen and Der Musenalma- nach may be found several poems written by LTJISE KAROLINE BRACHMANI*, who was hardly more than fourteen years old when the poet accepted some of her contributions. Her biography is one of the most melancholy in the pages of literary history. At one time she maintained herself by writing romances, for which she received as payment only four dollars a sheet, with the under- standing that one half of her pay must be accepted in the shape of books. Her life, made miserable through adverse circum- stances and by her own want of self-control, was terminated by suicide. It would be too severe to criticise her novels, written in the circumstances referred to. Several of her ballads are good, AA2 356 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. and her lyrical poems are far better than a reader of her biography might expect. They contain, indeed, some passages remarkable for a poetic expression of true feeling, such as inspired the following stanzas on Consolation in Absence : Our eyes still drink from the same fount of light ; The same wind round us softly breathes or blows ; We both lie veiled in the same cloud of night; One Spring to both its opening glories shows. When morning dawns, I cry : ' Awaken, day ! And strew thy roses wheresoe'er he roam ; ' When in the sea the sun is sinking ' Stay I And cast a gleam to light him to his home.' In visionary, moonlit, silent night, When ghostly forms on distant mountains shine, My heart beats high I say with deep delight : ' He lives however distant, he is mine ! ' And, when a star looks out, a gladdening ray Seems darting from his eye to cheer my heart All thoughts of earthly distance melt away, We meet in heaven and never more to part'! These notices of verse-writers who had no association with any new movement in imaginative literature may suffice, at least, to show how great was the distance existing between Schiller and the majority of his cotemporaries. Our attention must next be directed to the more fertile depart- ment of prose-fiction. Here we find, besides a few didactic stories by PESTALOZZI (which will be noticed in a following chapter), the 1 Idylls ' of FRANZ XAVER BRONNER and some humorous novels by ULRICH HEGNER, who described scenes from life in Switzer- land. The ' Parables ' written by FRIEDRICH ADOLF KRUM- MACHER may be commended for their style as well as for their didactic tendency. Other works in prose-fiction include besides mediocrities too numerous to be named some respectable novels and romances written by ladies, and a host of inferior fictions by such popular authors as Vulpius, Spiess, Cramer, and Lafontaine. The works of these four writers may, on the whole, be fairly classed together as representing the Low Literature of their times. Before noticing its characteristics we may name two or three ladies who wrote respectable fiction. BENEDICTINE EUGENIE NATJBERT (1756-1819) published anonymously several stories, including Thekla von XXIII.] ROMANCES. 357 Thurn, an historical romance from which Schiller derived some suggestions for his Wallenstein. The modesty of the amiable novelist was more remarkable than her knowledge of history. Until a short time before her death she kept concealed the author- ship of all her writings. JOHANNA SCHOPENHATTER (1766-1838), the author of the ro- mances ' Gabriele ' and ' The Aunt,' and of an interesting book on ' Johann von Eyck and his Followers,' lived for some years at Weimar. Her style, like her character, was lively and superficial, and her novels were read and admired, while the original and powerful writings of her son, Arthur, were generally neglected. His character was as strongly contrasted with her own as are midnight and noon, and she disliked so much his gloomy theory of human life, that she refused to dwell in the same house with him. ' Your lamentations,' said she, ' about this stupid world and the miseries of mankind deprive me of rest ac night and give me bad dreams.' Arthur told her that his own books would be read when her novels were forgotten, and the prediction has been fulfilled. The fault of prolixity is found in most of the novels written by KAROLIXE PICHLER ^1769-1843j, but in their moral tendencies they were well contrasted with many fictions too popular in her times. Her best work, ' Agathocles ' (1808), was written in oppo- sition to Gibbon's misrepresentations of Christianity. In several of her romances she endeavoured to give a popular interest to some passages in the history of her native land. Another lady who wrote respectable prose-fiction was KAROLINE VON WOLZOGEN (1763-1847), the friend and sister-in-law of Schiller, whose biography she wrote. This interesting work is more valuable than her romances, 'Agnes von Lilien' (1798) and ' Cordelia ' (1840) ; though the former had a remarkable and deserved success. This lady was the latest survivor of all the circle of Schiller's literary friends at Weimar. These notices of female writers may be closed by naming THERESE HUBER (1764-1829), daughter of the philologer Heyne. Her novels were, at one time, erroneously ascribed to her second husband, Ludwig Ferdinand Huber. She wrote especially for women, and one of her leading motives was to show the happiness of celibacy. If any apology were wanted for noticing the fictions we include 358 OUTLINES OF GEKMAN LITEKATURE. [On. under the heading Low Literature, it might be found in one of two humorous epistles written in verse by Goethe and addressed to the father of a family. The anxious parent complains not without good reasons of the character of such popular literature as the circulating libraries, in his time, supplied. Goethe, in reply, states his belief, that the demand produces the supply in the class of fictions to which the letter refers. In other words, he asserts, that the character of the people impresses itself on their favourite literature -, which is not the cause, but the con- sequence of a depraved taste. To illustrate this doctrine, he invents a humorous story of an improvisatore at Venice, who gained popularity by telling a story of his adventures in Utopia. There, he asserted, he had been severely and justly punished for wishing to pay his debts and to work for his own maintenance. The people, says Goethe, listened with delight to a romance which expressed so clearly their own notion of a happy life. If we accept this theory of literary success, the sensational romances and sentimental novels that gave delight to numerous readers during a long period must deserve attention, when we would describe literature as expressing the character of a people. A popular series of extravagant robber-romances and ghost-stories may first be noticed. Goethe and Schiller, by their earliest dramas, called into activity the imitative talents of the men who wrote absurd tales of knights and bandits, and, rather later, the ' Ghost-Seer ' (1786-89), an un- finished romance by Schiller, was accepted as a new model for imitators ; though it was very unfavourably characterised by its author. Then ' shrieks heard in uninhabited castles ' and ' noises of chains dragged about at midnight through long and mysterious corridors ' were freely employed as materials in unearthly fiction. But, on the whole, the robbers had a greater success than their spectral rivals. Schiller was not allowed to forget the extrava- gance of his own first play. When he came to Weimar in 1787, one of his first visitors was a literary man, described as an insig- nificant figure and oddly dressed. This young man was afterwards celebrated as CHRISTIAN AUGUST VULPITJS, author of 'Rinaldo Kinaldini the Robber,' one of the most successful sensational romances ever written, and a fair type of a numerous class of similar productions. It appeared first in 1797, and its great popu- XXIII.] 'RINALDO RINALDINI.' 359 larity is proved by the facts that it was translated into several languages, and that a new edition in German appeared in 1858. ' Rinaldo Rinaldini ' might be called, with reference to popu- larity, the chieftain of a formidable gang of robber-romances com- piled for the circulating libraries. But another hero the re- nowned great bandit ' Aballino ' claims precedence in the order of time. To readers who know HEINRICH ZSCHOKKE (1771-1848) as the writer of ' Hours of Devotion ' and of numerous didactic stories and historical works, it may seem strange that his name should be mentioned here ; but his celebrated robber-romance, ' Aballino the Great Bandit,' was written as early as 1793 (six years before Schiller's Wattenstein was completed), and was, soon after- wards, put into the form of a play which had great success. SPIESS, another writer of sensational dramas and romances, may be mentioned, but merely with reference to his remarkable popularity. ' Aballino ' and ' Rinaldo Rinaldini ' were both respectable when compared with some of the romances written by CRAMER and LAFONTAINE ; especially some stories of domestic life by the latter, who wrote more than one hundred and thirty volumes of unwholesome fiction, made worse by the insertion of false moral reflections. He was followed, at a later time, by HETJK, who used the psaudonyme Clauren, and ruled in the circulating libraries as Kotzebue ruled on the stage. The Low Literature represented by these names, and including a host of bad romances and plays, enjoyed an extensive popularity during Schiller's time, and sur- vived for several years after the War of Liberation. If we could be deceived by the prominence given in literary history to such names as Lessing, Herder, Goethe, Schiller, and Fichte, or could suppose that they expressed the mind of a nation, the question might arise : How could a people represented by such men fall into the political degradation in which Germany was found at the beginning of the present century ? There existed, in fact, no such contrast as such a question would imply between the intellectual and the political condition of the people. The taste and, to some extent, the moral character of the majority of readers were repre- sented by such writers as Vulpius, Spiess, Cramer, Lafontaine, Kotzebue, and Clauren, whose fictions enjoyed a popularity ex- tended over more than a quarter of a century. JAHN, (the patriotic founder of the Gymnastic Unions, that have '360 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [_Cn. been so fruitful in good results) gives, in a few plain words, a condensed inventory of many circulating libraries. ' Here we have,' says he, 'romances with titles like mountebanks' placards ; " Wonderful Stories ! " (amazing, indeed, that men could be found so senseless as to write them); "Ghost Stories !" (where such goblins make their appearance no mind exists) ; " Romances of Knighthood " (I wish " the iron hand of Gotz " might fall on their authors !) ; " Robber Romances " (in old times robbers took away men's goods or, sometimes, their lives ; now they would deprive us of our brains) ; and then we have Poison-Books ' . . . . The more energetic part of Jahn's denunciation may be left untrans- lated, but not because it is too severe. The popular drama of Schiller's times may be lastly noticed, as it is historically connected with the movement in literature of which some account must be given in the next chapter. In the genial time when Goethe and Herder were friends at Strassburg, literary men were divided, as we have seen, into two parties, who might be called the old school and the new. Another division took place a short time before Schiller's death. Several young writers, led by the brothers Schlegel, and associated under the title of the ' Romantic School,' made themselves prominent by their opposition to the tendencies of popular literature in their time. They had other and higher motives, which may be men- tioned in our next chapter ; but here it is enough to say that they were reasonably dissatisfied with such dramas as were written by Iffland and Kotzebue, and with the romances of Lafontaine and Clauren. On the whole, this literature might fairly be called low ; there was in it no breath of aspiration towards any higher thoughts than such as would have been sanctioned by Nicolai, the champion of commonplace, whose name may be once more men- tioned, as serving to represent briefly, the characteristics of a crowd of writers of plays, novels, and romances. Among the dramatists here referred to the most respectable was ATTGTJST WILHELM IFFLAND (1759-1814). He was an excellent actor in comedy and in such domestic plays as he could write. In 1796 he was appointed director of the National Theatre at Berlin, where he remained until the close of his life. His dramas, founded on domestic interests, though prosaic, have good moral motives, and contain passages of natural and powerful XXIII.] KOTZEBUE. 361 pathos ; but, in all their essential features, they have a close family- likeness one to another. They consist mostly of scenes from every- day life ; such as might be found in the lowliest of Crabbe's domestic stories. Iffland's boundaries of thought and sympathy were narrow ; but he was respected in his day, as he wrote better plays than 'robber-tragedies,' and brought upon the stage such men and women as may be seen in daily life. One of his best pieces Die Jager enjoyed remarkable popularity. As fair spe- cimens of the whole family igroup, we may mention ' The Old Bachelors,' ' The Advocates,' and ' The Legacy.' In his moral tendency Iffland was too respectable to be classified with his more versatile cotemporary Kotzebue a play-writer as remarkable for tact and cleverness as for the absence of any higher qualities. AUGUST FRIEDRICH FERDINAND (VON) KOTZEBUE was born at Weimar in 1761, held, in the course of his life, several political offices in Russia and Germany, and gained a wide reputation, by no means founded on respect for his character. He was intensely unpatriotic, and might be concisely described as the extreme op- posite to Schiller. Kotzebue was a thoroughly practical man, and wrote for the market. Schiller had tried to make a school of the theatre; but Kotzebue viewed it as a shop in which he could carry on an extensive trade. The same motive guided him in politics. The cynical invectives published in the paper he edited were directed against men whose motives were more generous than his own, and he found delight and profit in writing to dis- courage the hopes entertained by liberal politicians. This conduct and the suspicion that he was acting as a Russian spy roused to a state of fanaticism a young student (Karl Ludwig Sand), by whom Kotzebue was assassinated at Mannheim in 1819. It must be granted that he possessed one virtue industry. He wrote, beside several romances and a deplorable history of Germany, a host of plays, comedies and farces, by which he gained a European reputation. His play ' The Indians in England ' had a success that now seems incredible, and his ' Old Coachman of Peter III.' gained for its author the patronage of the Czar Paul I. of Russia. If Kotzebue's dramas had been written to make Schiller's theory of ' an educational theatre ' appear ridiculous, it could not have been done more effectively. Critics wrote severely of such plays as ' Brother Moriz ; ' but the unscrupulous author 362 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. had an applauding public on his side. He had good tact in making arrangements for stage-effects especially in farces and comedies and some of his tragedies are highly sensational. His farces are pardonable, or may be praised when compared with some of his sentimental or falsely-pathetic pieces ; especially such as end with repentance and conversion. In these his aims and the means which he used to attain them are alike contemptible. One of his most successful plays ' Misanthropy and Repentance ' is also one of the worst in its moral tendency. This frivolous exhibition of a sudden, so-called ' repentance ' as a means of making an effective closing scene to a base career is one of the writer's greatest offences. A few crocodile tears are shed, and are made effectual to cancel, in a moment, all remembrance of transgression. It is not intended to be said that Ivotzebue, who ruled so long in the theatre, gained and maintained his popularity merely by pandering to the depraved taste of the public. Pieces that kept their reputation for twenty years and more must have some merits, such as lively action, a fertile invention of effective situations, and some rather clever portraitures of the lower characteristics of men and women. These traits may be found in such pieces as ' The Epigram,' the 'Affinities,' 'Reconciliation,' and 'The Two Klins- bergs.' But the writer's offences against good taste and morals are unpardonable. In several of his plays and farces he makes age an object of ridicule. One of his 'amiable' women openly declares her gladness when she finds herself a widow, and this is a venial offence when compared with the bad taste that may be found in ' Brother Moriz ' and other pieces that may be left un- named. One high eulogium of Kotzebue's moral tendency appeared in his own times ; but it was written by himself: ' There is more morality in my plays,' he said, ' than can be found in the thickest volume of sermons ever printed.' Kotzebue was profoundly irreverent, and had not the slightest suspicion that he was in any respect inferior to Goethe, whom he seems to have viewed as an intruder in Weimar. On one occa- sion, the playwright made arrangements for a showy coronation of Schiller as poet-laureate, which was to take place in the town- hall at Weimar ; but the sole object of the scheme was to give annoyance to Goethe. It, however, gave greater annoyance to Schiller, who declared that the bare suggestion had injured his XXIII.] KOTZEBUE. 363 health. Kotzebue respected nobody. One of his farces (' The Visit ') -was intended to make the philosopher Kant appear ridiculous ; another (not worth naming) was directed against Fichte ; ' The Incognito ' was a satire on the brothers Schlegel, and another farce, called ' The Hyperborean Ass,' was written to expose the errors of the Romantic School, who had ventured to suggest that people ought not to be satisfied with such plays as were written bv Kotzebue. 364 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITER ATUEE. [On. CHAPTER XXIV. SEVENTH PERIOD. 1770-1830. THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL. IT is like stepping out of the sunshine of an open field into the twilight of a dense forest when we leave the society of Kant and Schiller and enter the Romantic School, where Schelling teaches philosophy, where the brothers Schlegel read lectures on criticism, and Tieck revives the poetry of the Middle Ages. How great the transition from Kant's clear moral doctrine to Schelling's theory of ' The Soul of the World ; ' or from < Wilhelm Tell ' to Tieck's ' Genoveva ' ! A severely logical or rationalistic reader may be surprised by this transition from works in prose and verse that may be easily understood, to writings in which an imaginative mysticism more or less prevails. It should, however, be remembered, that the object of these outlines is to give a fair representation of German Literature, and not a selection of passages accordant with English taste. Any history of German Poetry that would leave un- noticed, or barely mentioned, the extensive department occupied by mystical and fantastic fictions would be defective and false. It is with deference to the judgment of several German his- torians of literature that we have included the sixty years 1770- 1830 in one period. The beginning of the nineteenth century was an epoch in literature and philosophy, and was marked by ten- dencies and innovations as important as any that we have noticed in the eighteenth century. In the years 1725-1770, there was a general tendency to make all speculation, philosophy, religion, and poetry serve immediately the interests of morality and practical life. If that tendency, as promoted by Kant's doctrine of ethics, and as shown in the XXIV.] THE ROMANTIC SCHOOL. 365 writings of such men as Moser, Engel, and Garve, had been con- tinued, the Romantic School of poetry would never have arisen. An English tone of sobriety and clearness is prevalent in the essays and other writings of the popular philosophers and their cotemporaries, and if their style of writing had been followed, we should have heard nothing of German obscurity. About the time of Schiller's death (or rather before), both literature and philosophy seemed to be weary of their old topics and desirous of enlarging their boundaries, especially such as had been defined by Kant. Men would seek to know what, as he had said, could not be known. It must appear strange to an English reader to learn that the prevalence of a system of philosophy was closely connected with a certain class of tendencies in the treatment of historical, political, and religious questions, and also in the culture of imaginative literature ; yet there can be no doubt of the fact. It is clear that the abstract-ideal character and the didactic tone of some of Schiller's poems on art arid culture may be ascribed to a study of Kant's writings and to the poet's respect for the judgment of his friend, Wilhelm von Humboldt, who held a theory in favour of the union of poetry with philosophy. This union, he said, must be the centre of all culture and the source of inspiration for all the special sciences. The assertion seems a bold one in prose ; but Wordsworth has said the same thing in verse. As long as Kant's philosophy was accepted as final, it might lead to abstruseness, but hardly to what we may, without offence, call mysticism. This was avoided by refusing to attack the problems that lead to it. ' Of what nature may be in itself,' said Kant, ' we can know nothing. We see only phenomena, and these are beheld through a certain medium our own mind. The world around us supplies the objects we contemplate, but they are like the bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. Our own faculties are the slides by which the fragments are arranged in various designs.' Kant thus left a division between the intellect and the con- science, and drew lines of close limitation around metaphysics. He taught that, as all our knowledge is derived from experience, and our experience is finite, we can know, by theoretic reasoning, nothing of the infinite. But he also taught that ' the truths which never can be proved ' by the intellect may be found implied and asserted in ethics. 366 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. Fichte, like his predecessor, had mostly a moral aim in view, and wrote and lectured to promote a union of the highest science with political and practical life ; but he protested against the toleration of duality in a system of philosophy, and demanded that all its parts should proceed from one centre, and be indis- solubly united as one organism. This severe demand led to the speculations of Schelling and to Hegel's laborious dialectic method. Philosophy, as understood by Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, has for its substance the results of all the special sciences and en- deavours to find their union, or to reduce them to a general theory. It, therefore, does not confine itself to abstract metaphysics, or to a few questions of psychology ; but interferes in the several de- partments of the physical sciences, history, ethics, politics, religion, and festhetics. We say nothing of the wisdom, or of the hopelessness, of such a comprehensive endeavour to grasp in their own union all the results of knowledge ; our object is only to show that a philosophy such as we describe must, if accepted, produce effects on the ten- dencies of general literature. In the first eight or ten years of the present century, the bold and imaginative theory of Schelling was closely though in- directly connected with the tendencies of several writers who were included under the general heading of the Romantic School. This title had, at least, two meanings; a wide and a narrow one. If the latter only were accepted, as including the brothers Schlegel and their friends who wrote fantastic romances, the im- portance of the new school would hardly be understood ; but, in its wider meaning, it includes a number of writers on history, politics, religion, philology, and archaeology. The tendencies in literature, politics, and religion of all the men who have been in- cluded under the name of the Romantic School were by no means derived from the brothers Schlegel. These two critics made themselves very prominent in the defence of theories and senti- ments that were called ' Mediaeval ' or ' Romantic ; ' but such men as Baader and Gorres, Adam Miiller and Ludwig von Haller, Steffens and Schubert, must not be described as followers of the Schlegels. The fact is, that the title Romantic School has been used by some writers so as to include at least five or six distinct mean- XXIV.] NEW TENDENCIES. 367 ings. In the first place, it includes (in its most restricted sense) the Schlegels and their poetical friends, Tieck, Novalis, and Wack- enroder. Then followed several imaginative -writers known, in literary history, as the ' Later Romantic School,' which includes the names of Fouque, Brentano, Arnim. and Eichendorff. To this latter group the name of Hoffmann has been added. Again the writers of patriotic songs, before and during the War of Liberation, are associated, by their romantic tendency, with the authors of some dismal dramas known as ' fate-tragedies,' which were written during the time when a romantic literature prevailed. In its widest acceptation the title ' romantic ' is so vague as to be useless. It includes, for example, such a writer as Baader, whose mystic works are in favour of a moderated Catholicism, and Steffens, who endeavoured to unite philosophy with Lutheran doc- trine. Then we find classed with the men of the Romantic School several writers on German philology and archaeology, studies which were greatly encouraged by the tendencies of the times, and were represented by the brothers Grimm and other able men, including Hagen and Lachmann. Their nationality is, indeed, almost the only bond that unites all the writers we have named, as belonging to one school. Several might be more distinctly clas- sified, either as having tendencies in favour of Mediaeval Catholi- cism, or as having become converts to the Roman Catholic Church. These might be called the retrogressive men of their times. A vague and imaginative tendency towards Catholicism was one of the more important traits in the literature now to be noticed. In the German literature of the eighteenth century, the controversy between authority and freedom in religion was mostly set aside or regarded as concluded. The writings of ' the popular philosophers ' show this clearly enough. In the nineteenth century the question has been revived, and has led to a discussion calling forth, from each of the parties engaged in it, abundant resources of historical learning and controversial powers. It is of the Romantic School, in the more limited acceptation of the name, that some account must next be given. In the first decennium of the present century, Jena, ' the Athens on the Saale ' (as it was sometimes called), was the centre of a new movement in literature and philosophy, which took place during a time of national degradation. In the course of the thirty years already reviewed (1770-1800) 368 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. literature had received its new impulses, first, from Kb'nigsberg, where Kant, Hamann, Hippel, and Herder resided ; then from Strassburg, in the days when Herder and Goethe met there, and, next, from Weimar (1775-1800) ; but about the close of the eighteenth century, Weimar, though still famous as the residence of Wieland, Herder, Goethe, and Schiller, was surpassed in intel- lectual activity and innovation by its neighbour, the seat of learning on the Saale. The University which, before the time of Schiller's appointment there, had been (as we have noticed) notorious for the rudeness of the students, had been greatly improved by the liberal measures of Karl August and his minister Goethe, and, during Schiller's lifetime, literature was represented at Jena by such men as the brothers Schlegel, Tieck, and Novalis, and philosophy by Keinhold, Fichte, Wilhelm Humboldt, Schelling, Steffens, and Hegel. Literary society lost dignity, but gained energy and freedom, when Jena was made the centre. The meetings of poetical and philosophical men which took place here (in the elder Schlegel 's house) were genial, and included some amusing contrasts of character. There might be seen Fichte a short, sturdy figure, with hair flowing on his shoulders speaking imperiously, ' but often in urgent need of a louis d'or ' (says Scherr), and sometimes dressed ' not better than a rag-picker.' No sharper contrast could be seen than when this philosopher seated himself beside Wolt- mann, the historian, who was almost a dandy, and wore a claret- coloured coat, with a blue satin vest and spotless snowy linen. In rather later years some romantic youths, in their endeavour ' to blend life with poetry,' resolved to abjure the use of tobacco ; but this grand design was not realised at the time of which we write. Then, on the contrary, one of the cares of Wilhelm von Humboldt, while he stayed at Jena, was to preserve his best suit from the taint of that obnoxious herb. For this purpose (we are told) he generally wore, when he went to spend an evening with philosophers, an old and rusty coat ' which a barber would scorn to put on his back.' Among the poetical men and the philosophers who were assembled at Jena, there sometimes ap- peared a young man with luminous eyes, a round head, and a projecting brow. This was Schelling, who had recently pub- lished several essays containing the outlines of a new philo- sophy of nature. Whatever might be its intrinsic value, it had XXIV.] JENA. 369 remarkable power as a stimulant in several departments of study, changed the tone of controversy on some religious questions, and indirectly favoured the more important tendencies of a new school of poetry. It may be asserted but without any attempt to write pre- cisely that each of the systems of German philosophy had an ascendancy of about ten years. Kant ruled in 1780-90, and Fichte during the next decennium ; in 1800-10 Schilling's theories (or intuitions) were predominant, and were followed by Solger's teaching. Hegel's system had to wait long before it gained (about 1820) the predominance which it retained until 1&30 and later. It was about the time (1799) when Fichte left Jena, and when Schelling began to rule there, that the ROMANTIC SCHOOL became prominent in literature, and it had assumed some importance before Schiller's death occurred. The times were indeed gloomy when the enthusiastic men we have mentioned were assembled at Jena, and endeavoured to forget political degradation while they dreamed of new theories in philosophy, or of a new school of poetry in which ' all the picturesque life of the Middle Ages should be restored.' These dreams at such a time might remind us of the men who wrote pastoral fantasias during the horrors of the Thirty Years' War, or of the amiable 'unknown philosopher/ Saint-Martin, who, during the French Revolution, occupied himself in the study of Bohme's theosophy ; but the apparently hopeless state of political affairs may explain a retirement and quietism that was not altogether voluntary. What could poets or philosophers do at such a time ? Prussia was dismembered, and the spoliation of Germany was planned at Luueville; then followed the disaster at Austerlitz, and events were moving on rapidly towards the greater cata- strophe at Jena in 1800. However oppressive the conqueror's rule might be, thoughtful men knew well that there was stern justice, not on the side of the enemy, but in the punishment inflicted on Germany for its long and obstinate policy of self-division. 'A house divided against itself cannot stand,' and a merely military union, even though animated by no spirit higher than a national or a personal egoism, must prevail over disorganisation. B a 370 OUTLINES OF GERMAN LITERATURE. [Cn. There was no true national life in Germany. This was too well understood by intelligent men. A disunion represented by nume- rous and envious particular interests had been an institution in Germany for at least two centuries, and how could its disastrous results be remedied in a lifetime ? The French, who had been fighting, in 1792, to extend a formal and external freedom, were fighting soon afterwards to extend such a mechanical and Oriental despotism as had hardly been heard of since the time of Xerxes ; but they had a union, though one of the least durable character, and they were, of course, for some time victorious over a mere aggregate of factions. The 'house divided against itself fell. It was in accordance with the law that governs the world ; the greatest and the firmest union must win. Prussia lost half its territory ; a third part of Germany was reduced to a state of vassalage ; the slavery of the Hheinbund was made more oppressive than ever, and the great minister, Y