s»;( 
 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026076525 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PT 91.M58 
 
 History of German literature. 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 1924 026 076 525 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. 
 
 NEW-STREET BQTIABB. 
 
HISTORY 
 
 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE, 
 
 BASED ON THE GEEMAN WOBK OF VILMAE. 
 
 EEV. FREDERICK METCALFE, M.A. 
 
 FEllOW OE LINOOIN COILEGE, OXTOED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GKBEN, LONGMANS, & ROBERTS. 
 
 1858. 
 KP 
 
//CORNELL^^ 
 
 iUNfVERSflYl 
 LIBRARY 
 
 ^^rffiE!55ES«H!»w5«e« 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The work on which the following pages are based has 
 reached a sixth edition within a short period of time, 
 and enjoys a high reputation in Germany. That por- 
 tion which treats of the Heroic Sagas is considered 
 superior to anything that has been written on the sub- 
 ject. Its author, Vilmar, held an office in the Depart- 
 ment of Public Worship and Education, under the 
 notorious Hessian minister, Hassenpflug. According 
 to the German papers, he belongs to that party in 
 Germany which stands up for the national Luther- 
 anism as opposed to the foreign Calvinism. These 
 views, which Vilmar advocated with great vigour, 
 excited odium in some quarters ; and on the disgrace 
 and downfall of Hassenpflug, Vilmar's retirement was 
 greeted with loud jubilee by the democrats, who stig- 
 matised him as a tyrant and represser of national 
 liberty. Since then, he has been Professor of Theology 
 at Marburg. In many respects, Vilmar's work (which, 
 it is only fair to say, exhibits no leaning towards 
 despotism, civil or ecclesiastical) surpasses those of 
 his predecessors on the same subject. With more 
 enthusiasm for his theme, and a fresher style than 
 Gervinus, he is less minute and matter-of-fact than 
 
VI PJJEFACE. 
 
 Koberstein, though sufficiently so for a foreign 
 student. 
 
 StUlj with all its excellences, the Editor of the fol- 
 lowing pages felt convinced that the German work 
 would not suit the English reader in the shape of a 
 regular translation. It is in vain to deny it ; but any- 
 thing approaching to a faithful translation from the 
 German is distasteful to English readers. The idioms 
 of the two languages cannot be made to correspond. 
 The ways of thought, too, of the two nations are as 
 diverse as the poles asunder. "While the Englishman, 
 rather than get too deep, becomes at times superficial, 
 the German literati are often so profound that they stir 
 up the mud at the bottom, and become obscure. It 
 may be that Germany is the officina, where half the 
 thought of Europe is elaborated; but this officina is 
 like the workshop of the ingenious mechanic, which 
 contains many useful articles mixed up with articles 
 of no use at all. That great padlock, for instance, vast 
 and ponderous, hanging before the door, which is a 
 mere dummy ; this knife, with 365 blades, which can 
 be of no practical use ; this snuff-box, out of which 
 springs a miniature bird and warbles pleasantly, but not 
 half so well as a real feathered songster ; this complex 
 machine for measuring the height of the clouds, which 
 can only be properly used when the experimenter is 
 himself in nuhibus. A German period is often like an 
 Indian army, with its baggage train, its cooks, its 
 bearers, its what-not, all clogging the free motion of 
 the advancing force. Instead of keeping along the 
 
PEEFACE. yii 
 
 high road of thought, a German writer must dive every 
 moment into a side lane, so that, besides the main idea 
 of a sentence, we are introduced to all its cousins- 
 German and distant relatives. These may be very inte- 
 resting people indeed, but we get positively tired of the 
 multitudinous family. The very best German learned 
 writers — it is of them exclusively that we venture to 
 make these remarks — keep a sort of circumlocution office. 
 With a language approaching to the Greek in flexibility, 
 they make it appear to the very worst advantage. Bishop 
 Hoadly's "periods of a mile" were as nothing to Ger- 
 man sentences in length and involution. In fact, to 
 render a German work available to the English public, 
 an Englishman must bring to bear upon it something 
 like a Berdoe's quartz-crushing machine ; pulverise the 
 huge mass, and disintegrate it, in order to get at the 
 residuum of really fine gold. On comparing this 
 English volume with the original, it will be found 
 that the Editor has had recourse to this kind of expe- 
 dient, getting rid, as much as possible, of the earthy 
 particles, and using rather violent measures to ac- 
 complish this, but retaining to the best of his power 
 the fine metal, of which there was rich abundance. 
 
 With regard to the scope of Vilmar's work, it will 
 be sufficient to say that the Author has by no means 
 followed an exhaustive process, or given a history of 
 each and all of the different literary products of Ger- 
 many. On the contrary, he has confined his attention 
 for the most part to those works which, in subject- 
 matter and form, seem to reflect most faithfully the 
 
Tin PREFACE. 
 
 national characteristics of, his countrymen, in their 
 mode of thought, their inner life, their manners, and 
 the spirit of each succeeding age. 
 
 With this object, he has mainly, as might have been 
 expected, addressed himself to the poetical works — 
 especially the earlier ones — of Germany, as best illus- 
 trating these various matters. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact, and one which has often 
 been lost sight of, that at a very remote period Ger- 
 many possessed a grand national Epic. Long before 
 Tasso and Ariosto, Dante, or Petrarch, or Shakespeare, 
 let alone Goethe or Schiller, were thought of, Ger- 
 many had poets like Walther von der Vogelweide 
 and Wolfram von Eschenbach, and Epics such as 
 "Gudrun" and the " Nibelungenlied.'' 
 
 Vilmar divides his history into three periods : — 
 I. The Oldest Period, 
 II. The Old Period. 
 III. The New Period. 
 
 The First of these Periods he makes to commence 
 at the middle of the fourth century, and go down to the 
 year 1150. During this period occurred the struggle 
 between Heathenism and Christianity. 
 
 The Second Period reaches from 1150 to 1624. 
 During this period we see German Nationalism amal- 
 gamated with Christianity into one harmonious 
 whole. 
 
 , This Period is classed by the author under the fol- 
 lowing subdivisions : — 
 
 1. The Period of Preparation, 1150— 1190. 
 
PEEPACi!. IX 
 
 2. The Classical Period, or Period of National Epic 
 and the Minnesingers, 1190 — 1300, when German 
 literature reached its zenith. 
 
 3. The Period of the decay and decadence of Poetry, 
 1300 — 1517 (about) ; the period when the E.eformation 
 may be said to have commenced. 
 
 4. The Period of the struggle between the new ideas 
 and the old notions, when foreign culture was ousting 
 national cultui'e, 1517 — 1624. 
 
 The New Period begins in 1624, when German 
 Christian elements were now thoroughly interpene- 
 trated and amalgamated with foreign elements. 
 
 To this Period he also assigns a threefold sub- 
 division : — 
 
 1. The Period when the foreign domineered over the 
 domestic; the age of learned poetry, 1624 — 1720, i.e. 
 from Opitz to the first appearance of Bodmer. 
 
 2. The preparation of a new state of independence, 
 1720—1760. 
 
 3. The Second Classical Period, beginning with 
 Klopstock, and ending 22d March 1832, the day of 
 Goethe's death. 
 
 With regard to the two volumes now presented to 
 the English public, it will be proper to state that it 
 was thought best that this work and the companion 
 one by Professor Max Miiller should be in two distinct 
 volumes ; so that the English narrative might not be 
 broken by the interposition of lengthy passages from 
 the writings of the authors described. 
 
 The march of the story in the first volume, descrip- 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 tive of each succeeding author, his times, &c., will be 
 found to keep pace with the successive specimens of 
 their works exhibited in the second. 
 
 While the second volume is a spacious gallery lined 
 with a long vista of carefully selected works of art of 
 various degrees of merit, with the date and name of 
 each author appended to the frames — from the " Mbe- 
 lungenlied " and " Gudrun," by the Cimabues and 
 Giottos of the bright dawn of German literary art, to 
 Schiller and Goethe, its Angelos and Titians, — the 
 first volume is a sort of catalogue raisonne, showing 
 when and where and how the individual writers lived 
 and moved and had their being; — what schools they 
 founded or belonged to; the character and scope of 
 their works ; their influence upon their age, its customs, 
 manners, and habits of thought; and the influence it, 
 in its turn, exercised upon them. 
 
 By this method of arrangement it is hoped that the 
 twin works will prove more comprehensive and clear, 
 and therefore more useful and instructive, than any on 
 the same subject that have appeared in this country. 
 
 It only remains to add, that the notes have been 
 removed from the end of the book to the foot of the 
 page to which they refer. 
 
 Lincoln College, Oxford, May, 1858, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Oldest Pebiod - .... i 
 
 The Old Pbbiod -----. 28 
 
 The New Pbeiod --.--- 310 
 
 Schools - - - - - .318 
 
 Eomance .-..-- 350 
 
 Gottsched - - - - - - 362 
 
 Klopstock . - - - - - 391 
 
 Goethe - - - - - - 431 
 
HISTORY 
 
 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 THE OLDEST PERIOD. 
 
 The translation of the Bible by the Gothic Bishop 
 Ulfilas is the most ancient monument of German lite- 
 rature in existence. Between it and all subsequent 
 literary productions there is an interval of at least 
 three hundred years. Upon this work a science en- 
 tirely modern has been constructed, namely, that of 
 German etymology and historical grammar. Indeed, 
 the comprehension not only of the old High German, 
 but also of the middle High German poems depends in 
 a great measure upon a knowledge of Gothic. 
 
 Ulfilas was bishop of the Western Goths, and died 
 A.D. 388, in the seventieth year of his age*, after crown- 
 
 * Professor G. Waitz found in a manuscript, belonging most probably 
 to the fourth century, and preserved in Paris, some polemical obser- 
 Tations of a certain Arian bishop, Maximinus, against the Council of 
 AquUeia (a.d. 381). In this book, which must have been committed to 
 ■writing before the year 397, there was inserted an independent treatise 
 by Bishop Auxentius, of Dorostor (Silistria), upon the life of Ulfilas. 
 
 B 
 
2 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 ing his faithful labours as a Christian instructor by 
 the translation of the Bible into Gothic. According 
 to tradition, the only parts of It which he did not 
 translate were the Books of Kings and Chronicles, 
 for fear of rousing thereby the martial propensities of 
 his people. 
 
 For the prosecution of this work there Is some reason 
 to suppose that he invented a peculiar alphabet, partly 
 Old German, partly borrowed from the Greek. For 
 centuries this production was held in high estimation 
 by the West Goths, as they advanced first into Italy, 
 and then Into Spain ; and Its language was still under- 
 stood as late as the ninth century. After this it was 
 lost ; and all that was known of it was from the noticea 
 
 In his earliest years Auxentins was entrusted by his parents to TJlfilas, 
 who instructed him in the Bible. See G. Waitz, " Ueber das Leben und 
 die Lehre des Ulfila. Hannover, 1 840." Up to this period ( 1 840) people 
 had not got beyond the indistinct surmise that TJlfilas was bishop, and 
 wrote his work between 360 and 380 (see Gabelentz et Loebe Ulfilag, 
 " Teteris et Novi Testamenti Versionis Gothics Eragmenta quae super- 
 sunt," &c., 1836 and 1843, Proleg. p. 1). But we leam from Auxentius' 
 account, that TJlfilas was consecrated bishop of the Goths in the year 
 348. 
 
 The Gospels were first published from the Silver Codex by Franz 
 Junius, Dordrecht, 1665, and frequently afterwards. In 1805, at 
 Weiszenfcls, by Zahn, together with the fragments discovered by Knittel 
 at Wolfenbiittel. The Pauline Epistles, by Mai and Castiglioni, Milan, 
 1819-1839, and a Gothic exposition of the Gospel of St. John, under the 
 title " Slteireins," by Massmann, in 1 834. The above cited work of Gabe- 
 lentz and Loebe contains all the memorials of the Gothic language. 
 Comp. Massmann, Gothica Minora in Haapt's " Zeitschrift fiir das 
 deutsche Alterthum," 1, 294, seq. 
 
 It has been photographed by Dr. Leo, of Berlin ; and a new edition 
 has lately appeared at Berlin by Professor Massmann, with a literal 
 rendering into Greek and Latin notes, a vocabulary, and an historical 
 introduction. — Editor. 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 3 
 
 of Greek ecclesiastical writers, who stated that a trans- 
 lation of the Bible had once been made by a certain 
 Ulfilas. Six hundred years had elapsed when, towards 
 the close of the sixteenth century, one Arnold Mer- 
 cator, a Belgian geometrician in the service of Wilhelm 
 IV., Landgrave of Hessia, spread abroad the rumour 
 that a very ancient German translation of the four 
 Gospels, written on parchment, was to be found in the 
 abbey of Werden. This precious MS. subsequently got 
 to Prague, and upon the capture of that city by Count 
 Konigsmark, a.d. 1648, was conveyed to Sweden, 
 where it is still preserved in the library of Upsala, 
 under the name of the Codex Argenteus. The letters 
 are written in silver upon purple vellum; and the 
 whole is bound in silver by the generosity of the 
 Swedish Marshal Lagardie. Two hundred and fifty 
 years later, viz., a.d. 1818, the Epistles of St. Paul, 
 translated by Ulfilas, were discovered by Cardinal Mai 
 and Count Castiglioni in the monastery of Bobbio in 
 Lombardy. Of the translation of the Old Testament 
 nothing but a few lines remain. The language of this 
 venerable relic is the mother of the present High- 
 German, as it is called ; which, if superior to its pro- 
 genitor in the flexibility and flow of its sentences, is 
 vastly inferior to it in the purity and euphony of its 
 vowels, its grammatical strictness, the wealth and 
 fulness of its forms, variety and accuracy of expression; 
 and above all, in point of earnestness and dignity. It 
 was when this work was drawn to light, after being 
 hidden for a thousand years, and not before, that people 
 began to obtain a true insight into the German language. 
 
 B'2 
 
4 QERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 .Of the many who have investigated this most per- 
 fect and most interesting language, Jacob Grrimm haa 
 shown himself to be the interpreter most worthy of the 
 theme. 
 
 With this short preamble we shall proceed to 
 describe the commencement of German Poetry. 
 
 Julian the Apostate relates that he heard the 
 Germans on the Rhine singing their national songs, 
 and that these sounded to him just like the cries of 
 screaming birds of prey. Following him, many of the 
 moderns, especially Adelung, the compiler of the well- 
 known German Dictionary, have been of opinion that 
 early German poetry, like the people themselves, was 
 essentially rude and barbarous, and only attained to a 
 higher perfection as the people progressed in civilisa- 
 tion. But this opinion is a wrong one. It is at the 
 outset of a people's existence as a nation that its poetry 
 is always most noble and most natural. When, in 
 the course of ages, the poetry of a nation has used up 
 its most ancient materials, when it begins to grow tired 
 of itself, and to cast about at random for some new 
 theme instead of taking that which is most obvious 
 and natural, when the popular taste has become vitiated 
 by intellectual over-refinement, — then it is that a peo- 
 ple's poetry is in danger of sinking into barbarism and 
 ruin. 
 
 Traditions have come down to us from the very 
 earliest times of lays current in ancient Germany in 
 honour of her kings and victorious heroes. According 
 to Tacitus, the Germans celebrated in songs, which 
 were ancient even in his time, the praises, of Tuisco, 
 
The OLDESt PEEIOD. 5 
 
 the son of Earth, and his son Mannus ; they had battle 
 hymns in honour of the God of War or of Victory, 
 whom that author calls Hercules, but who was probably 
 the God Sachsnot, or Ziu. And lastly, he relates how 
 that Arminius, the liberator of Northern Germany, 
 and his "victory over Varus in the Teutoburg Forest, 
 were still renowned in song one hundred years after 
 that event. But all these songs disappeared together 
 with the Cheruscan tribe to whom they belonged : and 
 it was reserved for a Roman to preserve the memory 
 of Arminius to his country. The old heroic songs of 
 the Gothic Kings, Berig and Filumer, which still existed 
 among that people in the sixth century, and from which 
 all their ancient history is derived, have likewise dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Two legends, however, of heathen times, and dating 
 as far back, at least, as the fourth century, are still 
 extant. One of these is the Heroic-Saga, or Mythus 
 of Sigfried, the Dragon Slayer, or the Horny * Sig- 
 fried ; the other is the Animal-Saga of Eeynard the 
 Fox and Isegrim the Wolf, both of which have lived 
 on in unimpaired vitality through centuries ; and have 
 been worked up into regular poems by some of the 
 greatest poets. The story of Sigfried, the bright hero, 
 who, while still a boy, forged his mighty sword, Bal- 
 mung, at the traitorous smith's in the depths of the 
 primseval forest, who slew the gold- guarding dragon 
 Frasnir, liberated the Valkyre Brunhild from the ever- 
 
 * Sigfried bathed in the Wood of the dragon, and his skin thereby 
 became hard as horn, except in one spot, where a leaf intervened. — 
 Editor. 
 
 B 3 
 
O GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 flaming castle, and perished by treachery in the midst 
 of his blazing career of glory — evidently refers to a 
 period when German heathenism still subsisted in aU 
 its natural vigour, and the tranquil days of old were 
 as yet undisturbed by the so-called migration of the 
 nations. Impelled by this latter movement, the Saga 
 was borne from Germany to the kindred countries of 
 the north, to Norway and Iceland, where it was pre- 
 served in its old mythic shape ; while in the country 
 of its birth, it lost, under the modifying influences of 
 Christianity, most of its heathen and mythic character. 
 Thus metamorphosed, it forms the first part of the 
 " Nibelungenlied," of which more hereafter. 
 
 The Saga of Reynard the Fox and Isegrim the Wolf 
 is clearly one, which could only have originated when 
 a people was in a state of primaeval simplicity, and 
 when man and beast lived together in child-like famili- 
 arity. But in the name used for the fox we have a 
 striking proof that this must have been the case, and 
 that the Francs of the fifth century must have brought 
 this Saga with them over the Rhine to France ; for the 
 fox is called in the Saga Reginhart (i.e. the prudent 
 counsellor, the cunning), which has been modernized 
 into Reinhart, or the Low German diminutive, Reineke. 
 And this old German name, Reinhart, or Reynard, has 
 entirely superseded the old French name of the beast, 
 Goupil. But this never could have taken place except 
 at a period when the language of the Francs was 
 the prevailing language of Gaul, and when the mean- 
 ing of the word (Reinhart) was still perfectly current, 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 7 
 
 which ceased to be the case, in Germany at least, as 
 early as the eighth century. 
 
 When the nations began to migrate, heroes of greater 
 and greater renown march into the scene of song. 
 First come the Kings of the East Goths of the 
 Amalian line, Ermanarich and his nephew, called in 
 history Theodoric the Great, and in the Saga Die- 
 trich of Bern, after Sigfrid, the most renowned of the 
 German heroes. Then the race of the Wolfings, 
 Dietrich's vassals; the most conspicuous of whom 
 are Dietrich's aged retainer, Hildebrand, and his 
 son Hadubrand. After these follow the Burgun- 
 dian Kings, Gunther, Gieselher, and Gemot, with 
 their sister Kriemhild, the virgin full of grace and 
 modesty, the devoted wife, the widow bloodthirsty 
 and revengeful; and in her train, the grim and 
 terrible, yet withal noble, Hagen of Tronei, with his 
 grey hair and fierce countenance. Then we have 
 Attila, King of the Huns, called Etzel in the Saga, 
 Among his attendants is the Margrave Eudiger of 
 Bechlarn, the most profound creation of German 
 feeling, who has gone through the double struggle, 
 first of soul then of body. And, lastly, Walther of 
 Wasichenstein or of Aquitaine, who fled from Attila 
 with Hildegunde, his betrothed, and in his flight had 
 the terrible contest with the king of the Burgun- 
 dians at Wasichenstein (the Vosges). Besides these 
 there are from the North of Germany, Hettel, king of 
 the Frieses or Hegelings, with his daughter Gudrun, 
 the faithful bride ; also the Stormarn or Danish King, 
 
 B 4 
 
8 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Horant, the sweet singer, with his uncle Wate, the 
 hero with the ell-broad beard, who rages in battle like 
 a wild boar, with his rolling eyes and gnashing tusks. 
 On the other side are the Norman Kings Ludwig 
 and Hartmut, and, lastly, Beovulf, king of the Jutes, 
 whose Saga the Angles carried over to Britain in the 
 fifth century, where it was committed to writing in 
 the eighth. 
 
 We know from numerous testimonies that as early 
 as the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries bold tuneful 
 songs passed from mouth to mouth, descriptive of these 
 heroes, their deeds, and their fortunes. 
 
 In the halls of kings, and in the chambers where the 
 heroes sat, minstrels sang these well-known lays, the 
 crowd of guests accompanying the strain. Many of 
 these compositions were written down by the monks, 
 partly as a pastime, partly by way of grammatical 
 exercise. Thus, in the year 821, the monastery of 
 Eeichenau, on the Lake of Constance, possessed twelve 
 of them. Eginhard relates that Charlemagne caused 
 a collection of them to be made ; but all the efforts 
 that have been made for centuries to discover these 
 collections have hitherto been unsuccessful. 
 
 It is true that we do possess these lays in another 
 shape ; but this is in the modern version of the thir- 
 teenth century, and not in the ancient form of the eighth 
 and- ninth. Besides these, there are only three other 
 pieces extant belonging to the ancient period. Of 
 which only one is in the original Old High German, 
 another is in a Latin translation, and the third is in the 
 Anglo-Saxon tongue. None of these owe their preser- 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 9 
 
 vatlon to the care of Charlemagne. On the contrary, 
 it was by a lucky accident that the most important of 
 the three, the poem of Hildebrand and his son Hadu- 
 brandj has come down to us. It is written in Old High 
 German, with an occasional tendency to the Low Ger- 
 man dialect; and belongs to the cyclus of Sagas on 
 Dietrich of Bern. The story is a kind of sequel to 
 that of the Nibelungenlied, Dietrich, together with 
 Hildebrand, has been thirty years from home in the 
 land of the king of the Huns. He has now returned 
 to his country after the great contest in which all the 
 Burgundians, and, at last, Kriemhild herself, the lovely 
 and terrible, the widow of Sigfrid and wife of Attila, 
 have fallen. He has gained the victory also over 
 Otacher (Odoacer), the leader of his domestic foes. 
 Hildebrand is still his companion ; who, when he started 
 from home, left behind him a young wife and infant 
 son. This son is Hadubrand, now a doughty warrior, 
 who, not knowing his father, advances to meet him as 
 a foe. Hildebrand recognises his son, and seeks to 
 deter him from the attack; but in vain. "Dead is 
 Hildebrand, my sire, the son of Heriband," replies 
 the youth ; " sailors have told me so, who came over 
 the Wendelsee (Mediterranean sea)." Hildebrand un- 
 winds his golden armlets, the fairest and most coveted 
 ornaments of a German warrior, and oifers them to his 
 son. But the stripling answers defiantly, " With the 
 lance (Ger) must thy gifts be received : sword-point to 
 sword-point. Thou art a sly old Hun, who seekest to 
 entrap me to my ruin." "Alas! great God," cries 
 Hildebrand, " woe is me. Sixty summers and winters 
 
 B 5 
 
10 GEBMAN LITEKATURE. 
 
 have I been a wanderer from home ; and now shall my 
 dear son hew me with his sword, or else I be his mur- 
 derer. Yet craren were he, most craven of the men of 
 Ostland (the East-Goths), who should withhold thee 
 from the strife thou so lustest for." Hereupon father 
 and son first hurled their lances of ash, fixing them 
 deeply the one into the other's shield. Then the shield- 
 splitters rush on each other, hewing so fiercely with 
 their brands, that the linden-wood shields grow smaller 
 and smaller at each stroke. Here the poem, which is 
 unfortunately only a fragment, breaks off. The re- 
 mainder of the story still exists, it is true, but not in 
 the same antique shape. Seven hundred years later, 
 viz., at the end of the fifteenth century, this epic legend, 
 which had been passed on from mouth to mouth, was 
 again versified with some success by a popular poet, 
 Kaspar V^on der Roen, under the title of" Der Vater mit 
 dem Sohne " (the Father and his Son). This poem, which 
 wants the power of the original, is to be found in 
 Wackernagel's and other collections. The upshot of 
 the story was that the father conquered the son, and 
 then both return to the lonely wife and mother. 
 
 This poem, which, next to the work of Ulfilas, is the 
 most remarkable remnant of the oldest German litera- 
 ture, owes its preservation to two monks of the monas- 
 tery of Fulda, who lived at the beginning of the ninth 
 century. It is not unlikely that they had formerly 
 been in the army, and that this was one of the remi- 
 niscences of their secular days, which in their leisure 
 hours they committed to writing. It is inscribed upon 
 the blank pages at the beginning and end of a religious 
 work, and is in two different hands, as if one had written 
 
THE OLDEST PEEIOD. H 
 
 and the other dictated it alternately. This rare manu- 
 script has been preserved, since the thirty years' war, in 
 the museum of Cassel.* 
 
 The second specimen of that age, which, as aforesaid, 
 ia only a Latin translation, dates from the beginning of 
 the tenth century. It is a pithy and life-like history 
 of Walther of Aquitaine, and his deadly contest with 
 Gunthar, king of the Burgundians, and his men of 
 war, in a defile of the Vosges, through which passed 
 the ancient highway.f Twelve champions, one after 
 another, attack the hero, and try to rob him of the trea- 
 sures he had brought from the land of the Huns, and 
 of Hildegund, his betrothed, who had escaped from 
 Attila, by whom she had been detained as a hostage. 
 Each struggle is depicted with much individuality and 
 freshness. Each warrior wears different arms, and 
 though Walther comes off conqueror in every case, yet 
 each victory differs from the other; so that the interest 
 is sustained throughout, down to his last tremendous 
 
 * The " HildebrandsUed " was first printed in 1 729 by G. V. Eckhart, 
 in his "Commentarii de Eebus IFrancise Orientalis,"i. pp. 864-902. But 
 then, and long afterwards, it was looked upon as " a romance in prose," 
 until at length, in 1812, the poetic form of alliteration was pointed out by 
 the Brothers Grimm, " Die beiden altesten aUiterierenden Gedichte, das 
 HildebrandsUed und das Wessobrunner Gebet." W. Grimm published 
 an exact fac-simile of the MS. in 1830, in two folio leaves, while in 1833 
 Lachmann edited, an acute and comprehensive explanation of the restored 
 text. See " Histor.-philol. Abhandlungen der Berliner Academic der 
 Wissenschaften," 1 835, pp. 1 23-1 62. Wilhelm Miiller has recently endea- 
 voured to put this poem in the Strophe form. See Haupt's Zeitschr. iii. 
 pp. 447-452. 
 
 f Edited for the last time, and first explained by J. Grimm, in the 
 "Lateinische Gedichte des 10 und 11 Jarh. von Grimm und Schmeller,'" 
 1838, pp. 3-53, the explanations, pp. 64-126, and in the preface. 
 
 B 6 
 
12 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 fight with Hagen of Tronei, with whom he had once 
 lived as with a brother, at the court of Etzel. It is 
 true that the contest bears an air of bloodthirstiness 
 and rude ferocity. King Gunthar loses a foot, Walther 
 a hand, Hagen an eye and some of his teeth; but when 
 the fight is done and peace concluded, these mutilations 
 give rise to much good-humoured jocularity among the 
 combatants. Walther returns home to his father, 
 Alphari, at Lengers, celebrates his marriage with Hilde- 
 gund, and on the demise of the former reigns as king 
 for thirty years. Many of these contests remind one of 
 those in Homer. The conclusion of the poem, descrip- 
 tive of how "Walther, all his battles over, ruled justly 
 and lived tranquilly to the end of his days, finds no 
 parallel in antique poetry, not even in the Odyssey. 
 This peaceful end and aim of battles and expeditions is 
 an essentially German idea. 
 
 In the third and last heroic poem, the Anglo-Saxon 
 Beovulf, we have a good specimen of the uncommon 
 vigour exhibited by old German poetry in the descrip- 
 tions of nature, and still more so in those of battles. 
 Here are described the heroic deeds of Beovulf, kins: 
 of the Jutes, and above all, his murderous fight with 
 Grendel, the sea-monster, and his mother; and also his 
 last contest with a dragon, in which he met his death. 
 The piece abounds with episodes, one of which describes 
 a known historical fact.* An extract has been pub- 
 
 * Beovulf was first edited by Thorkelin, Copenhagen, 1815. Then 
 by John M. Kemble. The Anglo-Saxon Poems of Beovulf, " The Tra- 
 veller's Song," and "The Battle of Finnesburg," second edit. Lond., 1835, 
 together with a translation of the Anglo-S. poem of Beovulf, with a 
 copious glossary, 1837. The last edition is that by Thorpe; Parker 
 Oxford. 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 13 
 
 lished by Professor Leo, and a bad translation of it hj 
 Professor Etmiiller at ZiiricL 
 
 We shall now proceed to give a general view of this 
 most ancient heroic poetry. 
 
 On the authority of Klopstock, a mythical notion 
 sprung up, and for a long time prevailed in Germany, 
 in the days when Ossian was the rage, that both the 
 material and the form of this eldest poetry were the 
 exclusive creation and possession of a school of bards. 
 Suffice it to say, that there never was a minstrel caste, or 
 a people called Bards, among the Germans. The thing, 
 as well as the name, was purely Celtic. Poetry with the 
 Germans was a national affair, and belonged not to in- 
 dividuals, but to the whole people. It described what 
 all had equally experienced, seen, and felt ; and when a 
 poet stepped forward, it was not to describe a matter 
 subjectively, i. e., as it affected his own feelings indivi- 
 dually. On the contrary, he was only the favoured 
 organ through which that which was the common poeti- 
 cal property of the nation was expressed. What he 
 said came home at once to the bosoms of all his hearersj 
 and awoke their liveliest and deepest sympathies. The 
 poets of those days did not labour after effect, in which 
 the greatest s,trength of modern poetry consists. The 
 Sagas above mentioned were not the result of indi- 
 vidual invention. Some of them were the actual ex- 
 periences of all the people ; as, for instance, that of 
 Hildebrand and Hadubrand, which is clearly an his- 
 torical transaction, the details of which, down to the 
 very fact of a dialogue having been held, are perhaps 
 a faithful record of what actually occurred. Others, 
 
14 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 again, were versions of occurrences commonly re- 
 ceived and believed among the nation at large, at a 
 period when there was no distinction between learned 
 and unlearned, gentle and simple, but all, from the 
 king to the humblest subject, spoke the same dialect, 
 and were of the same way of thinking in all the essen- 
 tial matters and customs of life. The term Poet (Dich- 
 ter) used above is hardly correct. Singer (Sanger) is 
 the word more applicable to those days, when the popu- 
 lar ballads were not composed and written down {dich- 
 ten, Latin dictare) by individuals, but lived on in the 
 mouths of the people. In the royal halls the harp 
 passed from hand to hand, and all could join in, at least 
 in the most important passages. This singing together, 
 which is a national characteristic of the Germans, is 
 mentioned by Tacitus. 
 
 The Danish king Hrodgar, in the poem of Beovulf, 
 himself grasps the harp and sings the deeds of his 
 fathers. Horant, the Stormarn king, in the poem of 
 Gudrun, makes the castle, which he had entered as 
 warrior and hero, re-echo with his lay ; while Volker, 
 in the Nibelunglied, who yields to none in valour, sur- 
 passes all in song and minstrelsy. This it was which 
 added so much to the pathos and interest of the song. 
 The minstrel was telling the story of his own life, the 
 battles he had won, the dangers he had endured. Not 
 but what there were also professional singers, who had 
 rich store of sagas about the different German tribes, 
 and who wandered from court to court, where they re- 
 ceived a hearty welcome and ample guerdon. In fact, 
 the name of one of these has come down to us, the 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 15 
 
 blind Frisian, Bemlef, who was in the retinue of 
 Ludger, Bishop of Miinster, about the year 800, All 
 that is contended for is, that these strolling minstrels 
 did not make their ballads, much less invent the mate- 
 rials of them, but sung — as anybody else might and 
 did sing — what was current in the living traditions of 
 the people. 
 
 The very form of the most ancient German poetry is 
 in the most intimate accordance with its subject-matter. 
 Even to this day German versification depends entirely 
 upon the accent, and not upon the quantity, as was the 
 case among the Greeks and Romans. But in ancient 
 times this essential principle was carried out much more 
 strictly than now. The verse was then jointed by 
 means of the most important words in it. These words 
 were, so to say, the supports of the line, and were 
 therefore called song staves (Liedstabe), corresponding 
 to one another by means of like initial letters. This 
 form of verse, in which rhyme, properly so called, was 
 unknown, was called alliterative or stave rhyme, from 
 the three staves on which the line rested. Although this 
 alliterative principle — this custom of connecting words 
 belonging to each other by the same initial letters — has 
 disappeared from German poetry these thousand years, 
 and, from the very nature of the language, can never 
 return, yet traces of it are still to be met with in many 
 current proverbial expressions : e. g., Wohl und Wehe, 
 Haut und Haar, Land und Leute, Kind und Kegel, 
 Schutz und Schirm, Stock und Stein. All the oldest 
 heroic ballads, as, for instance, those of Hildebrand 
 and Beovulf, were written in this alliterative verse. 
 
16 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 When the song was sung, these alliterative words were 
 musically emphasised, the company joining in by striking 
 their swords upon their shields, or by uttering hollow 
 sounds into the concave side of them, a custom men- 
 tioned by Tacitus. There was a noble simplicity and 
 grandeur about the strain, which enthusiasts compare 
 to the sound in the tree-tops of some dark forest struck 
 by the evening wind. It is difficult now-a-days to form 
 anything like a true idea of the imposing effect thus pro- 
 duced. Most of the attempts to re-introduce this sort 
 of verse have failed ; as for instance Eiickert's " iZoland 
 der ^ies am iJathaus zu Bremen." The following lines, 
 however, from Fouque's " Thiodolph " have almost 
 caught the right tone : — 
 
 " PTeit im TTeinberg, 
 Wohnea zwei Sohwestem, 
 Kubn zwei ^lingen 
 Zw ischen ^ippen starren. 
 TFenn die Schwestern uiohnen 
 PTirtlich an einem Heerd 
 Wenn die £lingen Mirren 
 ^raftig in einer Hand," 
 etc. 
 It is nevertheless generally true that when the spirit 
 has fled which created these natural sounds, aU attempts 
 at re-creating them must degenerate into mere empty 
 form and artifice. This observation is borne out by the 
 otherwise successful verses of Karl Lappe. We subjoin 
 a specimen from his " Frostnacht " (Frostnight) : — 
 " iMede dir /reudiger i^'rost der Nacht 
 ^linkende Wanke Blame des Schnees ! 
 iVbrdliche, mehmt nordischer Tone 
 ^raitigcn ^ang, Mlrn wie der Skalde I 
 Sliome nur Stuxm, stteug uud kalt, 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 17 
 
 Mit Aerbem flanche das Haar mir streifend 
 Mag auch des il/aien weiche Mi]ie, 
 Die fispelden Ziifte, find und Schlaff 
 Kersteckte Feilchen, Fergissmeinnichte, 
 iJbthelnder i?osen gefeierter ifuhm 
 ^11 der ^uen athmender Duft 
 Der Sinne Sehnen sattigen immer ? 
 ZToheres ^eischet des Herzen's Gelust, 
 TFill auch der W^onnen TTechsel sehn ! 
 Statt der sanften «udJiclieu Zier 
 Strebt er den starkenden <Stahl zu trinken 
 Der Aostlichen ftlaren j^alte Becher." 
 
 The ancient language was far richer in poetic appli- 
 ances for this sort of verse than the modern. For 
 instance, in one of the old German dialects there are 
 eight diiferent expressions for the idea " man," each of 
 which was used according to the context. Thus, 
 uueros uuarum uuigeo an uuahtu means " the men 
 were watching the steeds ; " rincos thes rikien sS,tun 
 an rAnum, " the men of the mighty (Lord or King) sat 
 in council ;" Segg was in selda undar gisindun, " the 
 man was at home among the followers ;" degano de- 
 chisto was er Deodrihhe, " most beloved of men was he 
 to Dietrich." The language was equally rich in adjec- 
 tives, which, as in the examples given above, were joined 
 with substantives which had the same initial sound. 
 Thus, the heroes were called schnell, bald (originally, 
 i. q. rasch, kiihn, quick, bold), strenge (stark-sehnig, 
 strong-muscled), reich (which originally also meant 
 machtig, mighty) ; then hugi, derbi (sinnfest, resolute) ; 
 ellanruof (kraft-beriihmt, strength-renowned) ; all of 
 which epithets were characteristic of the different heroes. 
 The usual German epithets for heroes now-a-days are 
 
18 GKBMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 tapfer, which originally meant heavy, ponderous ; but 
 which has now lost all plastic signification ; or mutig, 
 which, in the ancient heroic language, signified angry, 
 passionate. With them, gross, great, might be used as 
 an epithet of the sea, or of a camel. They would also 
 have said gross of hunger or necessity, but certainly 
 not of a hero. Modern German is more supple, but it 
 abounds in hyperbole and exaggeration, and wants the 
 accurate terminology, the slow yet majestic pace, and 
 the calm tranquillity of the ancient tongue. Then, 
 again, if we revert to the old descriptions of battles. 
 The lanky wolf follows the host out of the forest, and 
 sings his grim even-song, longing for his banquet. The 
 black raven waits for the corpses, and croaks over the 
 battle-field, exulting in the prey. The sword rushes 
 like a serpent on the foe, and the bitter bite of the axe 
 strikes grim death- wounds into men pale with the con- 
 test ; while the war-stream, and the dark-red battle- 
 drops pour down upon the gleaming steel, dyeing it with 
 the life-fountain. All this betokens a power and a 
 brilliancy of poetic description not easily surpassed. 
 
 To this old poetic world an antagonist at length arose 
 in the shape of Christianity. The collection of lays, 
 which his father Charlemagne had so carefully made, 
 Lewis the Pious would not even read, but carelessly per- 
 mitted them to perish. No doubt songs about Tuisco, 
 the earth-bom progenitor of the race, and about the' trans- 
 formation of the father of Sigfried and his sister Signs 
 into wolves, would be distasteful to Christian notions, and 
 would be regarded as an impediment to the spread of 
 Christianity. This objection would apply still more 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 19 
 
 forcibly to the numerous forms of incantation, where the 
 names of Wuotan, Donar, Ziu, Balder, Sachsnot, and 
 other heathen deities occur. Hence the frequent inter- 
 dicts launched against all sorts of profane songs by synods 
 and other ecclesiastical authorities ; the consequence of 
 which was the almost total destruction and oblivion of 
 every poem which bore a special mythological character, 
 and which would, therefore, have thrown the strongest 
 light on the inner life of that heathen age. Two forms 
 of incantations alone survive,' which were unexpectedly 
 discovered at Merseburg in the year 1841.* All these 
 heroic poems and incantations were in the alliterative 
 form, which, consequently came to be pursued with dis- 
 like and suspicion as if it were a heathenish device, until 
 at length it utterly vanished from Northern Germany 
 towards the end of the ninth century, having disap- 
 peared in the South, which had been converted to 
 Christianity earlier, at a stiU remoter period. But 
 while Christianity gave the impulse to the decline of 
 this ancient phase of poetry, yet there was another, and 
 a more powerful, instrument at work. This was the 
 growing tendency of the poets of the age to give ex- 
 pression to their own sentiments as well as to those 
 the people. The spirit of the times had gradually 
 altered. The new development required a new form of 
 verse. The alliterative form was exploded, and perhaps 
 it was best that it should be so, before it had degene- 
 rated, as it did in Iceland and Norway, into mere lifeless 
 and mechanical form. 
 
 * Discovered by "Waitz, and edited by Grimm. " Ueber zwei eut- 
 deckte Gedichte aus der Zeit des deutschen Heidenthums, 4, 1842." 
 
26 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 In otlier poems everything that was derived from the 
 ancient mythus, or served to remind one of it — as for 
 instance, in the earlier history of Sigfrid — was either 
 expunged or grew obsolete. In other cases people were 
 disinclined to part with their dear old heroic lays all 
 at once ; so the heathenish parts were modified and 
 altered into the Christian sense. Thus, in the poem of 
 Beovulf, as we now have it, there are a number of 
 Christian additions discernible, which have been evi- 
 dently interpolated to soften oflF the parts too glaringly 
 pagan in spirit. So in "Waltber of Aquitaine, — which, 
 it is true, had passed through the hands of the monks 
 of St. Gall, — Walther, at the beginning of the fight, 
 utters a violent speech of defiance (gelpf) in the ap- 
 proved fashion of those days. This remains without 
 alteration ; but immediately afterwards the monks make 
 the hero fall down, his arms stretched out in the form 
 of a cross, and beg pardon of God for his impiety. 
 But, in the main, all these heroic ballads were gradually 
 banished from the higher classes upon the advance of 
 Christianity, and were only sung among the lower 
 orders, who still clung with affection to the old-world 
 memories of gods and heroes. In the ninth century 
 they utterly vanish from the history of literature, to 
 reappear 300 years later, old and yet young, forcible 
 yet withal soft and beautiful. 
 
 Sacred poetry next came into fashion. Though 
 the subjects were religious, yet at first it still retained 
 not only the alliterative principle, but likewise the old 
 epic forms, together with the forcible and lofty method 
 of description to be found in the old popular compo- 
 
THE OLDEST PEEIOD. 21 
 
 sitions. Such was the so-called "Wessobrunner Gebetj" 
 printed in all the old collections, and which begins 
 thus : — " This I found to be the greatest human 
 wisdom; when the earth was not, nor the Heaven 
 above; neither hills nor trees; when the sun shone 
 not, and the moon gave no light ; when there was no 
 ocean, no end nor boundary, then was there an 
 Almighty God." 
 
 Another Christian poem in the alliterative form 
 describes the end of the world and the last judgment. 
 It is called muspilli, a heathen name of rather uncertain 
 meaning, which is the term used in the poem for the 
 end of the world.* Unfortunately only a fragment of 
 it remains. In sublimity of description it stands only 
 second to Holy writ. 
 
 Another poem is an Old-Saxon Harmony of the 
 Gospels, which was written at the instance of Lewis 
 the Pious in the ninth century, and was first printed a 
 thousand years afterwards, under the editorship of Pro- 
 fessor Schmeller, by the title of Heliand (the Saviour). 
 This poem, which was perhaps the joint composition of 
 several Saxons just after the conversion of that country 
 to Christianity, gives a history of the life of Christ after 
 the combined accounts of the four Evangelists. It is by 
 far the grandest and most perfect specimen of Christian 
 poetry in existence. Nay, apart from its Christian 
 subject, it is one of the noblest productions of poetic 
 
 * Muspilli, " Bruchstiick einer alt-hochdeutschen alliterierenden Dich- 
 timg vom Ende der Welt, yon J. P. Schmeller," 1832. For this poem 
 likewise a strophic form is claimed hy W. Miiller, in Haupt's Zeitschrift, 
 3, 452, seq. 
 
22 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 genius that ever appeared, and which in many respects 
 is thought by the Germans to match with the Homeric 
 compositions. It is a genuine Christian epos, simple 
 and inartificial as it ought to be, and not disfigured, 
 like Klopstock's " Messiah," by the violent introduction 
 of Christian mythology, or by unsuitable imagery. 
 Simple facts are related in the traditional alliterative 
 form. It is Christ in Germany, Christ among the 
 Saxons, that is here described. The King of kings 
 and Lord of lords approaches with his innumerable 
 train to distribute around the rich gifts of eternal life. 
 As he passes the Castle of Jericho the blind men ask 
 who is the highest and holiest of the passing host? 
 A hero gives answer that Jesus of Galilee is the holiest 
 and the best, and that it was he who was coming near 
 with his people. When the Lord begins the sermon on 
 the mount, the whole scene is described just in those 
 grand forms in which the German kings and princes 
 were wont to meet in council before the eyes of all the 
 people. " Nearer around the mighty Lord, the Prince 
 of Peace, stand the white men, whom God's Son hath 
 chosen for himself. Further below are the hosts of the 
 people. The faithful await the word of their King, 
 thinking in silent reverence what message the Ruler of 
 All is about to bring to the assembled multitudes. And 
 the great Shepherd, God's own child, sits over against 
 the men to teach in wise words the praise of God to 
 the people of the earth. Long did He sit, and silently ; 
 and they looked at Him long, and loved Him in their 
 hearts ; the Holy Lord, mild in His spirit. Then He 
 
The oldest period. 23 
 
 opened His mouth, the omnipotent One, and taught His 
 elect, who of all people were dearest to God. Blessed 
 were they who in this world were poor and lowly, for 
 God would give them eternal life in the land of 
 Heaven, the green paradise of God." 
 
 This poem is highly important, as illustrating the 
 history of the introduction of Christianity into Ger- 
 many; and not the less so, that this composition, so 
 fervid and so true, was the work of Saxons, a people 
 who had been converted to Christianity by the sword, 
 and who were therefore popularly looked upon as in 
 heart still opposed to its doctrines. 
 
 Thirty years after the Heliand was written, another 
 Harmony of the Gospels was composed by Otfrid, a 
 Benedictine monk of Weissenburg in Alsace. The old 
 epic forms and the old alliteration are here entirely 
 wanting. While in the last-mentioned poem the whole 
 Saxon people with one mighty voice sing the praises of 
 the Eternal, we have here but the voice of an indi- 
 vidual monk, who is for ever obtruding himself upon us 
 with his everlasting I; and although there is often much 
 that is good, and feeling, and proper in his narration ; 
 though at times he even approaches the sublime, yet he 
 frequently becomes tame and feeble and diffuse, where 
 a few powerful touches would have better answered 
 the purpose. As a storehouse of German language the 
 poem is invaluable, and its value is, if possible, enhanced 
 by the uncommon care and accuracy bestowed on the 
 metrical part. In fact, it is from this work of Otfrid's 
 alone that all the scientific rules of German versification 
 must be derived. Alliteration is here succeeded by the 
 
24 QEEMAN LITEEATUREi 
 
 musical principle, rhyme, wMcli has prevailed to the 
 present day. 
 
 Unlike the Old-Saxon harmony, this far inferior har- 
 mony of Otfrld's, instead of being lost for nine hundred 
 years, appears to have been always more or less known. 
 During the Reformation, it was produced as one of the 
 ancient evidences of Christian truth, and first printed 
 by Matthias Flacius, the theologian of Illyria, at the 
 instance of one Kiedesel. A new edition of it by 
 Graff appeared in 1831, under the title of " Krist." 
 
 Another poem, usually known under the name of the 
 " Ludwigslied," deserves mention.* It is a description, 
 written at the time, of the victory of the Frankish 
 King Ludwig III. over the Normans at the battle of 
 Saucort, in the year 881. Though lively for the most 
 part in style, and popular in colouring, yet it cannot be 
 compared for a moment vsdth the old epic, which was 
 now no more. It is written in rhyme, which had now 
 got generally into vogue. 
 
 The other poetical remains of this period are chiefly 
 of a religious nature; and, together with the contefn- 
 porary prose literature, are not worthy of notice.f The 
 
 * The so-called " Ludwigslied " was discovered by MabiQon, and edited 
 by Schilter, 1696. Subsequently the MS. disappeared, and was not re- 
 discovered till 1837, at Valenciennes, by A. H. Hoffmann; see Eluoneusia, 
 " Monuments des Langues romane et tudesque dans le 9"" Siecle. Publies 
 par Hoffmann et Willems. Gand. 1837." An extract is printed in W. 
 Wackemagers "Alt-d. Lesebuch," second edit. Sp. 105. Unless one may 
 choose to divide it into strophes of two lines, it is properly not a song, 
 but a Leich, a term which is explained elsewhere. It was no doubt the 
 work of an ecclesiastic. 
 
 t The poetical pieces of this period are, — " Ein Lied auf den heiligen 
 Petrus;" "Ein Leich von Christus uud der Samariterin;" "Ein Leich 
 
THE OLDEST PEEIOD. 25 
 
 latter consist of laborious translations, or commentaries 
 on parts of the Bible, by the learned inmates of St. Gall 
 and other monasteries ; or they are codes of ecclesi- 
 astical rules, or theological treatises. Besides these there 
 are some extracts from Aristotle, from Boethius, and 
 Marcianus Capella. As sources of German language 
 they are many of them most important, but much less 
 so as illustrating the history of German literature. 
 
 On the extinction of poetry, prose, as usual, succeeded 
 to an equally exclusiTC dominion. This remark will 
 apply to Germany from the end of the ninth to the 
 middle of the twelfth century. 
 
 In conclusion, we may here notice a literary curiosity. 
 As is well known, there are still extant several Christian 
 formulae of faith, prayers, and renunciations of the Devil, 
 dating from the eighth and ninth centuries, and among 
 others, those wherein the Saxon converts renounced 
 Wuotan, Donar, and Sachsnot. In the number of these 
 there used formerly to figure a Saxon prayer, or vow, 
 addressed to Wodan, which began " Hilli krote Wodane," 
 and then followed a Saxon form of submission to Charle- 
 magne. These pieces were Saxon, it is true, but be- 
 longed to the eighteenth century, and not to the eighth 
 The author was a municipal scribe of Goslar. 
 
 From the tenth century a sleep came over German 
 poetry, and continued down to the middle of the twelfth. 
 
 von h. Georg," (see a subseq uent note) ; "Ein (half-Latin) Leich von Ottos 
 des Grossen Versbhnung mit seinem Bruder Heinrich;" " Bin Gebot j" 
 and some fragments of partly alliterative songs of war, hunting, or my- 
 thology, which last are preserved in a work on rhetoric by the monks of 
 St. Gall. The prose literature of this period is cited by Koberstein Grund- 
 rise, 4th edition, pp. 94-100. 
 
 C 
 
26 GERMAN LITERATURE, 
 
 The nation was engaged in assimilating the great prin- 
 ciples of Christianity ; in working them into its very 
 life and blood. Not that the old heroic lays of Sigfrid 
 and Dietrich, of Kriemhild and Hagen, of Walther and 
 Etzel, were forgotten. Songs, too, were written on the 
 Battle of Eresburg in 912 ; on Adelbert of Babenberg ; 
 Kuonrad the Short ; on the hunting of the ure-ox by 
 the Bavarian Duke Erbo; and the Hungarian wars of 
 the Emperor Henry III. But these were mere dreams, 
 which vanished when the nation awoke. The language 
 was inaccurate, the verse careless and uncouth, and the 
 descriptions meagre. It is not pretended that the above 
 is a thorough explanation of the causes of the extinc- 
 tion of German poetry during two centuries and a half; 
 the facts merely are stated and the possible reasons 
 indicated. 
 
 Politically, Germany was by no means dormant 
 in that period ; and it is not impossible that this very 
 political activity and greatness, e. g. in the time of 
 Henry the Saxon and Henry III., may have been 
 among the reasons which threw the people's poetical 
 powers into abeyance. 
 
 Again, the ecclesiastical grandeur, such as prevailed 
 in the reign of Henry the Pious, though favourable to 
 learning, and to Latin as the language of chm-ch litera- 
 ture, was not favourable to the development of national 
 poetry. It is true that Hruodswintha, or Boswitha, 
 as she is called, the nun of Gandersheim, wrote Latin 
 comedies in imitation of Terence; and histories in 
 the Latin tongue were written by "Witekind of Corvei, 
 Dietmar of Merseburg, and Lambert of AschaflPenburg. 
 
THE OLDEST PERIOD. 27 
 
 But this was nothing but politics and learning playing 
 into each other's hands to prevent the poetic genius of 
 the people from awaking. 
 
 Poetry did awake when the spark from the East set 
 all the West in one mighty flame of enthusiasm ; when 
 the seed planted in Germany in the eighth and ninth 
 centuries, and which had been growing in secret for 
 nearly three centuries, burst forth at once into full 
 flower. This, of course, refers to the time of the 
 Crusades, which was, in fact, the manifestation of the 
 old western heroic character, blended with, and sanc- 
 tified by, the spirit of Christianity. It was then that 
 the genius of the old heroic song was suddenly aroused. 
 Then came the time of the Minnesingers, the first 
 classical period of German literature. 
 
 02 
 
28 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 THE OLD PERIOD. 
 
 Before, however, the Middle-High-German poetry 
 reached its cuhninating point, a short preparatory 
 period intervened, beginning about 1150 a.d., and 
 closing with the appearance of Heinrich von Veldekin, 
 who flourished between 1184 and 1188. The chief 
 diiference between the poets of this short intervening 
 period and those who immediately succeeded lies 
 in their language and versification. They lived on 
 the Middle and Lower Bhine, and wrote in the dialect 
 which prevails in those parts — at least on the Lower 
 Ehine — even to the present day. This dialect is a 
 mixture of High and Low German elements, in which 
 the original vowel sounds are confused, and, even in 
 the consonantal system, the Middle-High- German 
 forms are often mixed up with the Middle-Low-German 
 forms : on which account Jacob Grimm has now defined 
 it as the Middle-Low- German as opposed to the Middle- 
 High-German, with which he formerly classed it. Of 
 course this must not be confounded with the Middle 
 Netherlandish, the mother of the present New 
 Netherlandish, or Dutch. As may be well imagined, 
 this dialect was deficient in that general perfection, that 
 accuracy, and harmonious purity of rhyme, which so 
 distinguished the dialect that afterwards attained uni- 
 versal sway, the Middle- High-German. 
 
 Neither do we find in it that accurate measure of the 
 lines which was first introduced by Veldekin, the father 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 29 
 
 of the Middle-Hlgh-German poetry : tho»ugli he did not 
 bring it to perfection. It wanted, moreover, the right 
 number of rises (arsis), as well as their accurate pro- 
 portion to the falls (thesis) ; a rule which Otfrid had, 
 with a true genius for language, observed three hundred 
 years before. 
 
 To restore harmony of sounds, and purity of rhymes, 
 and to adapt the tone and flow of the verse to the subject 
 matter, was a task reserved for the succeeding writers, 
 who did not so much imitate Otfrid herein as follow 
 their own pure poetical instincts. This improvement 
 in the language, and more especially in the versification, 
 was called " rime rihten " (to arrange the rhyme) ; a 
 very ancient expression which the Middle-High-German 
 poets used of their own compositions in contradistinction 
 to those of an earlier date. In the preparatory period 
 above mentioned the so-called short pairs of rhymes is 
 the form which universally prevails. 
 
 The subject-matter of the poems written in this pre- 
 paratory period (1150—1190) is almost entirely the 
 same as that of the poetry of the succeeding period. 
 Thus, we have the poem of " King Rother," an heroic 
 saga. As a specimen of the animal saga, we have the 
 oldest known version of " Reynard the Fox." The 
 beautiful fragment of " Count Rudolf " is a romance 
 of chivalry. The foreign saga is represented by the 
 priest Conrad's " Song of Roland," and by Eilhartson 
 Oberg's version of " Tristan ; " the classical saga by 
 the priest Lamprecht's " Leben Alexander's des Gros- 
 sen" (Life of Alexander the Great); while among 
 historical Epopoeas are the " Lied von heiligen Anno " 
 
 03 
 
30 GERMAN LITERATUKE. 
 
 (the Life of St. Anno, Archbishop of Cologne), and the 
 " Kaiser Chronik." Besides these there are a number of 
 legends and the beginnings of Minne poetry in Diet- 
 mar von Aist, and others. 
 
 We pass now to the period between 1190 and 1300, 
 when Old-German poetry reached its zenith. 
 
 The home of this earliest German classic poetry was 
 South Germany; including, first and principally, Suabia, 
 the land of the Hohenstaufen ; then the Upper Rhine, 
 Switzerland, Bavaria, Austria, and Franconia. Hence 
 the epithet " Suabian " applied by Bodmer and others 
 to this period and to the dialect in which this poetry 
 was written. Jacob Grimm, on the other, hand, called 
 this dialect the " Middle-High-German," which term is 
 the one now exclusively used. 
 
 This language, which was regularly and system- 
 atically organized, first out of the Gothic and then out 
 of the Old-High-German, falls short of its predecessors 
 in fullness of grammatical terminations and in gravity 
 of expression ; but it is vastly superior to the present 
 German language, which arose out of it under Low- 
 German influences, in the wealth of its terminology, 
 in delicacy of expression, in precision of sound, and in 
 the purity and harmony of the rhymes. 
 
 If for a moment we endeavour to recall the state of 
 the then world — ^the world as it was from the middle 
 of the twelfth to the middle of the thirteenth century, 
 in respect to politics, belief, customs, social life, art and 
 science — the great influence that the Christian church 
 exercised on the growth of German poetry at once 
 becomes apparent. The spirit of Christianity had, in 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 31 
 
 the nations of the West, and especially in Germany, 
 become the spirit of the people. Most strongly deve- 
 loped in the nobility and clergy, it penetrated also into 
 the masses, not as a doctrine but as a fact, not as an 
 abstract science but as an element of existence. Chris- 
 tianity with the Germans was not a notion and con- 
 ception, but a possession and enjoyment. The spiritual 
 satisfaction arising from the inward and outward gran- 
 deur of the Christian church was so general and so 
 strong, that not even the struggles between the Em- 
 perors and the Popes, which lasted for more than two 
 hundred years, could interfere with it. 
 
 The old poets, and, still more, the poets of the period 
 now under consideration, describe doubt -as a most sad 
 state, and utterly destructive of the soul. Even in the 
 days of heathenism the German had this touch of strength 
 and truth and tenacity in his character. He was in 
 unity with himself, settled and clear in his views. What 
 he was, he was out and out, life and soul. Christianity, 
 which will have us altogether, life, soul^ and spirit, was 
 the very thing to suit such a character as this. Chris- 
 tianity offered that sense of comfort, calm, and security 
 which the people felt the want of, and enabled them to 
 give true vent to their deepest aspirations. 
 
 While the national mind was in this state the 
 Crusades supervened ; by which thoughts rose into 
 deeds, and Christian heroism was proved in glorious 
 actions. Call the Crusades a fantastic undertaking if 
 you will — a sentence nevertheless which would hardly 
 be justified before the tribunal of history, certainly 
 not before the higher tribunal of Christian civilization, 
 
 C 4 
 
32 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 — still this very fantasticalness gave no mean impulse 
 to the highest poetic capacities of the age. For five 
 hundred years the nation had lived within itself, at 
 most defending its domestic hearths against the invasion 
 of Hungarian hordes. From generation to generation 
 the people had been confined within the narrow pre- 
 cincts of their towns and quiet villages. Contented 
 with their simple castles, or lonely cottages, on the 
 edge of the forest or on the green heath, they knew 
 nothing, and cared nothing, about what lay beyond. 
 But now, all on a sudden, a new world appeared, and 
 the unknown magnificence of the East, rendered more 
 gorgeous by the magic colours of distance, was opened 
 to their view. Gay cavalcades of French crusaders, 
 mounted on riphly caparisoned steeds, and clad in glit- 
 tering mail, swept along the re-opened highways of 
 Grermany, lusting for conquest, hoping for victory, 
 ohaunting martial songs, as they passed before the 
 wondering eyes of the population. No marvel, then, 
 they fell into an indescribable tumult of conflicting 
 feelings. Sweet love of home and irresistible desire 
 to roam; bitter regret at parting and joyous wish 
 for travel ; such were the emotions that rent the youth 
 of Germany, and which all the poems of that day do 
 not fail to dwell upon, as, for instance, the immortal 
 " Parcival " of Wolfram von Eschenbach. 
 
 Add to all this, the political greatness of the 
 German Empire. The Emperor was the temporal 
 head of Christendom ; the nobility and their relatives 
 the flower of European chivalry ; and the people, under 
 their Emperor, ruled the world. Let us consider also 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 33 
 
 the personal qualities of those who then filled the 
 Imperial throne, the race of Hohenstaufeu ; so genial 
 and joyous, so enthusiastic and abounding in great 
 ideas. Taken as a whole, no period could have been 
 more fertile than this in all the highest and most en- 
 nobling incentives to poetry. The mighty Barbarossa 
 himself was a poetical figure of the first order, from the 
 day when he so firmly grasped the sceptre, till that 
 on which he sank in the waters of the Selef. The 
 memory of the Emperor with the flame-red beard has 
 never been forgotten in Germany, and the notion still 
 prevails among the people that when he wakes from 
 his slumber in the depths of the Kiffhauserberg, the 
 nation will awake to its former greatness. Nor must 
 it be forgotten that in those days Germany was in 
 a state of inward as well as of outward unity. All 
 were penetrated with the same national pride on 
 account of the nation's greatness ; and all had the 
 same poetical sympathies. The memory of the legen- 
 dary heroes of the olden time belonged to all. All 
 had the same tongue. It was not split up as it is now 
 into clumsy dialects on the one hand, and into the 
 superfine language of conversation on the other. 
 Lastly, the manners and customs of all were alike, 
 and faithful to the traditions of their forefathers. No 
 more congenial state of things could be Imagined for 
 the fostering of the poetic element. No sooner was 
 the music struck than everyone caught up the lay ; it 
 resounded from castle to castle, from town to town, 
 and a thousand voices from far and near joined in the 
 chorus. 
 
 C 5 
 
34 GERMAN LITEBATtJEE. 
 
 The poetry of those times may be divided into two 
 sorts, popular or natural poetry, and art poetry. The 
 former describes the national experiences of all the 
 people. Here fact follows fact in rapid succession ; 
 there is no stopping to think and dwell on the past. 
 All is clear without the aid of foreign figures. Arti- 
 ficial turns and tricks of composition are out of place ; 
 there is no straining after effect. The people's joys 
 and woes are sounded by themselves, now in loud and- 
 jubilant strains, now in deep and pathetic tones. Like 
 nature herself, natural poetry is ever fresh and young. 
 To use the words of one who, after Herder, was the 
 first to discover the true essence of poetry generally, 
 and of German poetry in particular, — Jacob Grimm- — 
 " natural poetry is a living book, full of genuine his- 
 tory, which a man can understand wherever he opeus 
 it ; but which he can never read to the end or under- 
 stand throughout."* 
 
 Art-poetry, on the contrary, is the result of reflection 
 and thought, the work of the individual poet. It is not 
 life itself, but life mirrored through his mind. It is the 
 experience, not of a whole people, but of one, who has 
 often got the start of his contemporaries. Nay, it is 
 frequently no real experience of the poet at all, but 
 simply something that he has guessed at by the force 
 of poetic divination. Hence his own individuality, be 
 it great or small, mean or noble, is continually pressed 
 into the foreground ; and, in order that he may be more 
 pleasing to his readers, he has recourse to figures and 
 
 * J. Grimm iiber den aljdeutschen Meistergesang, 1811, p. 6. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 35 
 
 comparisons. In the development of a nation s poetic 
 capacities both of these kinds of poetry are requisite. 
 Without a national poetry a nation would not be a 
 nation at all; without art-poetry it could only be a 
 nation whose legitimate development had been violently 
 obstructed. 
 
 The first of these two kinds of poetry — national 
 poetry — was represented in the twelfth and thirteenth 
 centuries by strolling minstrels, who went with their 
 budget of sagas and songs from castle to castle, from 
 land to land; and, whether at popular assemblies or 
 festivals, in hall or in market-place, sang their loud 
 and artless strains about the grandeur of the old petty 
 kings and their faithful retainers ; and thus was awak- 
 ened and fostered that old love of song and minstrelsy 
 that was characteristic of the people. These itinerants 
 and their hearers knew nought of books, or of ditties 
 long hidden and now again brought to light. All was 
 living oral tradition. 
 
 " Tins ist in alten Maren Wunders viel geseit* 
 Von helden lobebaeren, Von grozer chuoneit: 
 Von vrouden und hoch-geziten, Von weinen und von chlagen, 
 Von chuner rechenstriten, Muget ir nu wunder horen sagen." 
 
 These words, which commence the " Nibelungslied, " 
 are the key-note of all German national poetry. In 
 regard to form, the popular poetry is arranged in 
 strophes adapted for singing. These are of two kinds : 
 the so-called Mbelung strophe, consisting of four long 
 
 * We find in ancient story wonders many told, 
 Of heroes in great glory, with spirit free and bold : 
 Of joyousness and high tides, of weeping and of woe, 
 Of noble heroes striviDg, mote ye new wonders know, 
 e 6 
 
36 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 lines of six feet each (except the last, which has seven), 
 and each ending with a single rhyme* ; and the Berner 
 Ton, so called because several of the independent sagas 
 of "Dietrich" of Bern are written in it, and which 
 consists of one strophe of thirteen lines. 
 
 Art-poetry was mainly the production of emperors 
 and kings, nobles and knights. Thus we have poems 
 by Henry VI., the son of Barbarossa, and by King 
 Conradin, who was beheaded at Naples by the axe of 
 the executioner; also by Wenceslaus, King of Bohemia; 
 by Heinrich, Duke of Breslau ; by Otto, Margrave of 
 Brandenburg; and by the immortal poets, Hartmann 
 von der Aue, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Walther von 
 der Vogelweide, and Ulrich von Lichtenstein, who were 
 all of noble lineage. They sang for the most part to the 
 brilliant assemblages of courtly knights, august dames, 
 and lovely damsels that filled the courts of princes. 
 Newly invented romances, ornate in language and 
 artistic in description, songs of the heart's joys and 
 sorrows, such were their constant theme; and while 
 popular poetry was conspicuous for its adherence to tra- 
 ditional forms and subjects, these art-poets were for ever 
 aiming at something novel and foreign. It was their 
 endeavour to invest their poetry with all the fanciful 
 and rich colouring that was shed around the world of 
 chivalry in those days, when the magnificence of France 
 and Spain, and the fascinating splendours of the East, 
 
 * The rhymes at the end of the third and fourth lines of the poem 
 may appear to be douhle. But they are not so in reality ; the words 
 "chlagen" and "sagen" were pronounced as monosyllables. Many 
 other apparent infractions of the rule in the text are to be explained in 
 the same way. — Editor. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 37 
 
 had been just revealed by means of the Crusades to the 
 admiring knighthood of Germany. On this account this 
 art-poetry has been also called knightly or court-poetry. 
 
 Its form was — for artistic narrative — the short pairs 
 of rhymes, i.e., pairs of lines of four feet, each pair end- 
 ing in single rhymes, or of three feet, if ending in 
 double rhymes ; for lyrics, the tripartite strophe. 
 
 But to return to folk or national poetry, as repre- 
 sented in epic. It is to be observed that in the chief 
 Old-German Epics there is no principal hero, properly 
 so called. The cause of this is probably to be sought 
 in the manner in which these epics originated. They 
 most probably took their rise from a number of detached 
 poems in honour of different heroes. These in process 
 of time would flow together into one great deep and 
 majestic stream. Of such mighty streams of poetry 
 Germany possesses two. The one pouring headlong,; 
 impetuous, foaming and bellowing through the rocks — 
 the " Nibelungen Not;" the other gliding clear and 
 smooth, yet strong and deep, through smiling, verdant 
 fields — the poem of " Gudrun." 
 
 We may here mention one remarkable feature which 
 these two German Epics possess in common with the 
 Iliad. The chief characters in each are placed in sub- 
 jection, so to say, to another ; this quality of obedience 
 being in fact a chief ingredient in the true heroic cha- 
 racter. Achilles Is not the leader of the Greeks, but 
 Agamemnon. Hector is only the first of those who 
 serve Priam the Trojan King. Dietrich is the ally of 
 Etzel; while Eudiger serves Etzel, and Hagen and • 
 Volker serve Gunther the Burgundian King. Even 
 
38 GEEMAN LITERATDKE. 
 
 Sigfrid, who originally belongs to the Gotter-saga, is 
 made, in the " Nibelungen Lied " — albeit for a short 
 period — to serve another. 
 
 The second rank among the Old- German Epics is 
 occupied by poems descriptive of a single hero, after the 
 manner of Homer's " Odyssey," or of some one exploit 
 of an individual hero. These poems, which were pre- 
 served fresh from age to age in the pure oral tradition 
 of the people, possess a high degree of poetical interest, 
 and one scarcely inferior to that of the great Epopoeas. 
 Such are the " Hildebrand's Lied," which belongs to 
 the oldest Period. Such also " Walther of Wasichenr 
 stein ;" " Ecken Ausfart ; " " Sigenot ;" " Dietrich's 
 Elucht zu den Hunnen;" « Alphart's Tod;" «Ka- 
 benschlacht ;" as well as the saga of Herzog Ernst, 
 and others. All these independent sagas were known 
 at the time when the great Epics first originated, and 
 are often expressly alluded to therein. Indeed, they 
 are frequently of essential service towards our due 
 comprehension of the latter. They form, as it were, 
 a poetic back-ground, of unfathomable depth, so that 
 when we have read them we fancy there must still 
 be something more behind ; beyond the lowest depth, 
 one deeper still, concealing an inexhaustible supply of 
 poetic sagas. Thus every page in the " Mbelungenlied," 
 to the diligent student, points, like the Homeric Epics, 
 to some far-off epic distance, which heightens the charm 
 of the perusal. 
 
 In the third rank may be placed those poems which 
 further develope, and are supplementary to, the genuine 
 old heroic songs. These, although not deficient in 
 
. THE OLD PERIOD. 39 
 
 freshness and powerj are, as may readily be iinagined, 
 neither so simple nor so natural as the old heroic songs, 
 and they want their quiet grandeur and confidence. 
 First of these stands the song of " Kosengarten zu 
 Worms ;" likewise some poems in amplification of the 
 saga of " Dietrich of Bern." Thus we see that the old 
 epic saga came to be developed artistically. The poet, 
 instead of being borne along on the joyous stream, 
 stands as it were on the margin of the flood, reflecting 
 as he beholds it passing by. Thus the poet's sorrow 
 for the heroes who have fallen in the " Nibelungen Not " 
 breaks forth into words in the poem called the " Klage " 
 (lament). Similar to this, though more of a narrative 
 character, is the poem of "Biterolf und Dietlieb." 
 Lastly come imitations, where the transition from 
 popular poetry into art poetry becomes complete. The 
 subject-matter, which no longer is confined to living 
 popular tradition, is set forth, and adorned with all the 
 art that each individual poet has at command. Nature 
 is merged into art ; and the poetic impulse of the whole 
 people subsides into the invention and reflection of an 
 individual. Several such imitations are to be found in 
 the later Greek poetry. But the best known produc- 
 tion of the kind is the " JEneid " of Virgil. Kunst-Epos 
 (art-epic) is the name given to this kind of poetry in 
 Germany. 
 
 Before proceeding to examine the several creations 
 of the German epic, we will here take a rapid glance 
 at its chief characteristic. This may be summed up in 
 the word fidelity; mutual fidelity between the prince 
 and his people. He is generous, and never tired of 
 
40 GERMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 giving SO long as he has anything to give ; they are 
 grateful, and their gratitude only ends with their life. 
 They are ready to fight, and bleed, and die, and give 
 up all they hold most dear, for their beloved lord. 
 And he, on the other hand, will not suffer anything to 
 separate him from his faithful retainers, short of the 
 downfall of himself and his race. Hagen smites 
 Sigfrid dead out of fidelity to his queen, Brunhild. 
 Hagen is against the expedition into the land of the 
 Huns ; but since the Kings, his masters, have resolved 
 upon it, he sets out firm and undaunted as the " hel- 
 flicher Trost" (help and comfort) of the Nibelungs, 
 although he knows beforehand that this expedition wiU 
 be the death of himself and his masters, and the de- 
 struction of the Burgundian race ; and he struggles by 
 the side of his loved lords until the end. When, on the 
 other hand, the enemy promise the Burgundian Kings 
 free passage on condition of their delivering up Hagen, 
 a cry of horror bursts from their hearts. " Perish 
 rather fatherland, and wife, and blooming bride, and 
 young existence ; perish rather the nobl^ race of the 
 Burgundians, of which we are the last ;" and so Hagen 
 is not delivered up. Again, Eudiger, the squire of 
 Kriemhild and Etzel, fights the fierce fight of death 
 with Gemot, the Burgundian, his best friend ; for 
 Gemot, although the brother, is yet the foe of his mis- 
 tress. Neither survives the other ; they fall together, 
 but Rudiger is faithful to the end. So again, in 
 the poem of " Wolfdieterich," Berchtung, the old tutor 
 in arms and attendant of Wolfdieterich, who, with 
 his sixteen sons, has gone to battle for his master, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 41 
 
 looks round witli a smile towards his lord, as five of 
 them fall one after another, that his lord may not 
 mark that one of his beloved retainers has fallen. 
 The remaining eleven are taken prisoners, and now 
 Wolfdietrich, who is sad for the loss of his faithful 
 ones, wanders many years through all the world, alone 
 and poor, undergoing countless dangers and struggles 
 In search of them. Kingdoms, the hand of an Empress, 
 fresh retainers by the thousand, are offered him ; but 
 he will have none of them, if he cannot have his old 
 servants back again. Rather will he wander on, poor 
 and lonely, till he has discharged Lis debt of fidelity to 
 his men, and liberated them from imprisonment. 
 
 Such is the pulse that beats through the German 
 Epos. And unless we keep this in view, we shall fail 
 to comprehend its meaning. In short, the greatness of 
 the heroes so intimately depends upon the quality of 
 faithfulness, that it may be said to be the poetical 
 mainspring of the whole. We fail to discover this 
 feature in the Greek Epos ; or if there at all, it is 
 only in a subordinate degree, and in very faint outline. 
 And hence It is, that while the Greek Epos possesses 
 a more general interest, the German Epos possesses a 
 deeper one. 
 
 We now pass on to the several productions of 
 national heroic poetry, distinguishing between the 
 Sagas, on which they are based, according to the 
 several national races. 
 
 The first group of Sagaa Is the Lower Rhenish or 
 Frankish ; the hero Is Sigfrid, whose abode is Santen, 
 on the Lower Rhine. 
 
42 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 The second set of Sagas is the Burgundian. The 
 heroes are Grunther, Gemot, and Giselher, with their 
 mother Ute, their sister Kriemhild, and Gunther's 
 wife, Brunhild. Then come their followers, chief 
 among whom are Hagen and Volker. Their residence 
 is Worms. 
 
 The third is the East-Gothic. The hero is Dietrich, 
 who from his residence, Verona (Germanice Bern), 
 bears the name of Dietrich von Bern. His chiefest 
 attendant and weapon-master is old Hildebrand, of the 
 race of the Wolfings ; next to him, Wolfhart, Wolf-* 
 brandt, Wolfwin, all Wolfings ; together with Sigestab, 
 Helferiph, and four others. 
 
 The fourth Saga-group is devoted to Attila or Etzel, 
 King of the Huns, his first wife Helche and their sons ; 
 his retainer Kiidiger von Bechlam, and his allies, 
 Hawart, Duke of Lorraine, with his vassal Iring, and 
 Irnfrid, Prince of Thuringia. Etzel's abode is at 
 Etzelburg in Hungary, liodH Ofen. 
 
 These four series of Sagas are combined in the 
 poem of the Nibelungen Not, and in its artistic sequel 
 the Klage. Tiie first batch of Sagas, that of Sigfrid, 
 has also a special poem on the exploits of Sigfrid before 
 he comes into connexion with the Burgundians, viz., 
 the lay of Sigfrid's fight with the Dragon, or of 
 "hiirnin Sigfrid." In like manner there are a whole 
 set of songs about Dietrich of Bern, in which he is 
 described as quite disconnected with the other Saga- 
 series, e. g., Ecken Ausfart, Kcinig Laurin, Riesen 
 Sigenot ; or where he is in connexion with Etzel only, 
 and not with the Nibelungs, e. g., the song of "Dietrich's 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 43 
 
 Flight to the Huns;" "Alphart's Tod;" and the 
 " Ravenna," or " Rabenschlacht," besides some others. 
 The poem of " Rosengarten " is a later attempt to 
 connect Dietrich with Sigfrid and the Burgundians. 
 
 The Burgundian Saga-series also possesses a poem, 
 which was reproduced separately in this period, on the 
 deeds of Walter of Aquitaine. 
 
 The fifth is the North-Grerman, the Frisian-Danish- 
 Norman, series of Sagas, which depicts the maritime 
 life of the Northern German . The scene is laid in 
 Friesland among the islands on the North-Sea. The 
 heroes are Hettel, King of the Hegelings (Frisians), 
 Horant, King of the Stormans, his attendant and uncle 
 Wate, and Hettel's daughter Gudrun. The song of 
 Gudrun, in which these sagas are embodied, is, after 
 the Nibelungen Not, the finest specimen of the German 
 Epic Muse. 
 
 The sixth and last series is the Lombardic. The 
 heroes are King Rother, King Otnit, Hugdietrich, and 
 his son Wolfdietrich. Their home is Garten (Lago di 
 Garda) in Lombardy ; the scene is laid partly in Lom- 
 bardy, partly in Southern Tyrol, and partly in the East. 
 There are three poems belonging to this series ; the 
 tale of King Rother — which belongs to the antecedent 
 period, — the poem of King Otnit, and the still more 
 elaborate one of Hugdietrich and Wolfdietrich. Ac- 
 cording to the legend, Otnit, Hugdietrich, and Wolf- 
 dietrich are much older than Dietrich of Bern ; and it 
 is not improbable that these Lombard Sagas are based 
 originally on traditions, which go farther back than the 
 times of the latter. But, in their present shape, they 
 
44 GERMAN LITEBATURE. 
 
 bear unmistakeable signs of belonging to the time of 
 the Crusades, and are consequently the most modern 
 of all the Sagas. Passing over the history of these 
 Sagas*, we shall proceed to give an epitome of the 
 Nihelungenlied. 
 
 In Burgundian land, at the old Royal Castle of 
 Worms on the Rhine, a noble king's daughter, whose 
 father had died young, grew up to blooming woman- 
 hood, charming and lovely to behold. Dreams, pro- 
 phetic of the future, hover lightly over the head of the 
 sweet Kriemhild in the midst of the still seclusion, in 
 which, agreeably to the custom of the age, her child- 
 hood and commencing youth are spent. She dreams 
 that she has a falcon, which she nurtures for many a 
 day, until two eagles suddenly swoop down and crush 
 her gentle favorite in their cruel talons. Sad at heart, 
 when she awakes, she recounts her dream to her 
 mother, who thus Interprets her daughter's sweet, but 
 fearful, forebodings. 
 
 " The falcon is a noble knight, for whom thy future 
 is destined ; may God preserve him, lest thou lose him 
 too early." " What sayst thou of knights, dear mother ?" 
 replies the daughter ; " I had liefer far be without 
 knight's love, and preserve my virgin beauty imtil 
 death ; lest my wooing some day end in woe." " Not 
 
 * " Die deutsche Heldensage TOn Wilhelm Grimm, Gottmgen," 1829. 
 The only comprehensive description from original sources of the entire 
 range of German Sagas. With regard to Grasse's ■work, " Die grossen 
 Sagenkreisze des Mittelalters," 1842, we mnst warn our readers in the 
 same way as it has been ah-eady done byEoherstein in his "Grundrisz," 
 4thedit. p. 175 a. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 45 
 
 SO hasty, my child" rejoins the mother ; " wilt thou 
 ever be glad of heart, thou wilt be so from knightly 
 wooing. Thou shalt be a noble hero's beauteous wife." 
 
 Thus the first presentiment of the unspeakable woe 
 that was to follow, comes from the depths of the 
 virgin's heart like a distant echo, and the shade of the 
 dream rises higher and higher athwart the clear heaven 
 of her life and love. It sweeps ever darker and darker 
 over the first spring days of her affection ; ever darker 
 and darker over the brilliant marriage feast. The sun's 
 rays pale and grow faint through the gloom, till at last 
 it sinks with a blood-red glare into eternal night. 
 
 Meanwhile, rejoicing in his youth and strength, the 
 bold Sigfrid, son of Sigmund and Sigelinde, lives at 
 Santen, on the Lower Rhine. Renowned, even in 
 boyhood, for giant strength, he had, as he grew up, 
 travelled from land to land, and given proofs of mighty 
 prowess. At last a report reaches him of the beautiful 
 maiden at Worms on the Upper Rhine, and straightway 
 the handsomest, the most engaging, and the noblest 
 hero of the day, starts off with his inen of war for 
 Worms to court the fairest, the sweetest, and most 
 modest damsel that any land could boast of. Here, 
 too, a murmur of warning presentiment escapes from 
 the lips of his wise father. King Sigmund ; a tear for her 
 dear son, whom she fears to lose, falls from the eye of 
 Sigelinda upon his strong hand. Still he proceed.s on 
 his journey, loaded with rich presents by his parents. 
 The strangers halt their richly caparisoned steeds before 
 the Royal Castle of Worms : very giants in youthful 
 strength, and clad in mail of matchless splendour. But 
 
46 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 nobody recognises the knights that have halted before 
 the castle, or the youth of kingly stature at their head. 
 So Hagen von Tronei is sent for, who knows all 
 foreign lands, but even he is unacquainted with these 
 heroes. Still, he sa,ys, they must be princes or princely 
 envoys ; whencesoever they come they are high-spirited 
 warriors, no doubt. And soon after he adds, " I have 
 never seen Prince Sigfrid, but, by my troth, I fain 
 must think that it can be only he that stands yonder 
 with so lordly a mien. Yes,, it is Sigfrid, who won 
 from the dark race of Schilbung and Nibelung the 
 vast treasure of red gold /and precious stones ; who 
 seized upon their lands, and took in hot fight from the 
 dwarf Alberich, his cape, which renders the wearer 
 invisible. This is the same Sigfrid, who slew a dragon 
 and bathed himself in its blood, so that his skin is as 
 invulnerable as horn. Such terrible heroes as these 
 must have a friendly reception." 
 
 Sigfrid is entertained in a manner befitting his rank. 
 Contests of knightly prowess take place in the court- 
 yard of the palace. Kriemhild steals a furtive glance 
 through the window, and, at the sights of the youthful 
 ero, forgets all the amusements, all the occupations of 
 her secluded maidenhood. But a whole year is spent 
 by Sigfrid at the court of the Burgundian king before 
 he can obtain a sight of her whom he ha,s come to woo. 
 He enters the king's service and starts for the wars, 
 where he distinguishes himself in many a deed of daring. 
 He goes down the Rhine with the Burgundian host, 
 and marches through Hessia into the distant land of 
 the Saxons, whose king, Liutger, together with King 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 47 
 
 Liutgart of Denmark, had declared war against Bur- 
 gundy. In the murderous strife Sigfrid bears off the 
 palm. He takes Liutgart prisoner, and Liutger with his 
 Saxons surrender. Messengers arrive at Worms with 
 the joyful news, and one of them is introduced into the 
 presence of Kriemhild, whose heart, it is rightly sup- 
 posed, is not at Worms, but with the heroes fighting in 
 Saxony. " Now, tell me thy news," says Kriemhild, 
 " and tell me true, and then I wUl give thee aU my 
 gold, and be kind to thee ever after." " No one, my 
 noble lady," says the messenger, " was more famous in 
 the fray than the stranger from the Netherlands. Sig- 
 frid's hand it was that won the day. It was he who 
 took, and he who has sent the Saxon hostages that you 
 will see come up the Rhine." Hereupon she orders 
 ten marks of gold and rich garments to be given to the 
 messenger for his tidings, which wer£ dear to all, but 
 to none dearer than to the royal maid whose bosom 
 bums with a hidden flame. After this, she sits silent 
 at the narrow window of the palace, looking down the 
 road which must be traversed by the victors. At last 
 they appear on the distant plain by the Rhine, and throng 
 about the castle flushed with victory and joy ; her lover 
 among the number, the hero of heroes, the observed 
 of all observers. Still he cannot see her; for, with 
 maiden coyness, she keeps her secluded chamber. At 
 last a great tournament is fixed for the merry Whit- 
 suntide, and from far and near flock the highest and the 
 best, among them two and thirty princes, to the court 
 of the Burgundian kings; and then, at length, may 
 Kriemhild appear for the first time in public, by the 
 
48 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 side of her mother Ute, attended by a hundred cham- 
 berlains and a hundred noble matrons and damsels. She 
 rises like the dawn from out of the dim clouds, and she 
 shines in the mild beauty of youth and silent love like 
 the moon and the stars through the mists of night. 
 Sigfrid stands aloof " How could I ever think' to woo 
 thee. That were a foolish fancy. But must I leave 
 thee ; I would sooner die." Hereupon Gunther, in 
 courtly fashion, on a hint from Gremot, bids Sigfrid 
 approach and greet their sister. The hero advances, 
 and bows like a lover before the maiden ; the force of 
 longing desire draws them together, and they look at 
 each other with sidelong glances of love. Still they 
 speak not till after the religious service, which began 
 the festival, is over, when the maiden thanks the knight 
 for the valorous aid he had given her brothers. " It 
 was all done in thy service, Kriemhild," is the answer of 
 Sigfrid ; and " now that he has found his tongue," he 
 stays for the twelve days of the festival in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the loved maiden. The stranger guests 
 now depart, and Sigfrid also prepares to set out for 
 home ; " for he did not trust himself to woo the object 
 of his affections." Nevertheless, he easily allows him- 
 self to be persuaded by Giselher to tarry a while longer 
 in the spot where he was dearer than all, and where he 
 daily saw the fair Kriemhild. 
 
 Now there was a Queen who lived beyond the sea ; 
 beautiful she was exceedingly, and possessed withal of 
 superhuman strength. Whoever came to woo her 
 must first contend with her in hurling the lance, and 
 throwing the stone, and springing after the stone when 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 49 
 
 thrown, and she promised to be the bride of the man 
 who could conquer in all three trials ; if beaten they 
 were to lose their heads. Many a champion had come 
 to seek the hand of the warrior-virgin Brunhild, but 
 none had ever returned. King Gunther of Burgundy 
 determines to risk his life for her love, and calls on 
 Sigfrid to help him in his wooing. Sigfrid assents, on 
 condition that Gunther gives him his sister to wife, 
 which Gunther promises to do, so soon as Brunhild 
 shall have come to Burgundy. The compact is sealed 
 with an oath, and the ship is equipped for the voyage. 
 Golden shields and rich apparel are carried down to 
 the shore, and many a tearful eye follows the heroes, 
 as with swelling sails they set off on their voyage. 
 Sigfrid, the skilful seaman, grasps the helm, and Gun- 
 ther takes the oar. After a voyage of twelve days they 
 arrive at Isenstein, where Brunhild resides. On the 
 sea shore they see three vast palaces and a spacious 
 hall, surrounded by six-and-eighty towers of strange 
 and awful architecture, and all built of green marble. 
 Sigfrid alone is acquainted with this wondrous castle ' 
 and its lofty mistress. She, too, knows the hero that 
 approaches, alas! too well. "Welcome," she says, 
 without first asking the name of the strangers, " wel- 
 come. Sir Sigfrid to my land ; and wherefore have you 
 come ? " " There stands Gunther," he replies, " King 
 upon the Khine. To win thy love hath he come. He 
 is my lord, and I his vassal. In thy behoof are we 
 here." The contest now begins: Sigfrid supplying the 
 place of Gunther, who has no chance with the maiden, 
 such is her supernatural strength. The magic cape 
 
50 GERMAN LITKEATUEE. 
 
 makes Sigfrid invisible. Brunhild's terrible ger (spear), 
 with its heavy shaft and broad three-edged iron, is now 
 brought forth; and then a ponderous round stone, so 
 heavy that it requires the force of twelve heroes to drag 
 it into the ring. She turns back the sleeves from her 
 white arms, grasps the shield and spear, and commences 
 the fight. Gunther, who cannot see Sigfrid, trembles 
 at the sight of his antagonist, although the struggle 
 was of his own seeking. Sigfrid takes Gunther's 
 shield and bids him only imitate his gestures. The 
 Valkyr hurls the spear, and the sparkles flash from the 
 shield of her opponent, like flames waving in the wind. 
 Sigfrid reels for a moment under the force of the blow, 
 but recovers himself directly, and then hurls the spear 
 against the maiden with still greater force ; she wards 
 it off' with her shield, but falls. "Thanks for the shot," 
 she cries, springing to her feet, "thanks, noble Gunther." 
 Enraged at her discomfiture, she now seizes the stone, 
 hurls it afar, and then at a bound springs beyond it, 
 making her armour clatter again. But the bold Sig- 
 frid, lithe and agile of limb, seizes at once the mighty 
 stone, casts it still further than the maiden, and in the 
 same Instant that he throws it, makes an enormous 
 bound, far outstripping her's, although he bore the 
 king along with him under his arm. The Valkyr turns 
 to her attendants with the exclamation, " Come hither, 
 my, mates and men. King Gunther shall be your lord." 
 Preparations are now made for departure. Sigfrid, 
 after first paying a visit to his kingdom of the Nibe- 
 lungs, and taking from thence much treasure and many 
 men, proceeds in advance to Worms to announce the 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 51 
 
 victory, and the approach of the new queen. The ob- 
 ject had been gained. BrunhUd is betrothed to Gun- 
 ther, while Kriemhild and Sigfrid, in the presence of 
 the whole court, exchange the kiss of betrothal. But 
 meanwhile, tears fall down the cheeks of the beautiful 
 Brunhild. Sad and conscience-stricken, Gunther de- 
 mands the cause of her grief She answers, " I weep 
 for thy sister Kriemhild, because thou hast wedded her 
 not to a king, but to one of thy vassals." " Peace, my 
 fair queen," replies Gunther, " I will tell thee another 
 time why I have given my sister to Sigfrid ; he will 
 make her a good spouse." 
 
 This is the first fold of the unlucky knot, the secret 
 windings of which are hereafter to be revealed. As 
 we have seen above, Brunhild and Sigfrid were not 
 strangers to each other, the cause which she assigns for 
 her grief is evidently a feigned one ; for she must know 
 that Sigfrid is as much a king as Gunther. It is equally 
 plain that Gunther gives her an evasive answer, for fear 
 of betraying himself. It must have been all along appa- 
 rent to the reader that Brunhild had some previous 
 claim to Sigfrid's affection. Her love, long suppressed, 
 now bursts forth into the flames of jealousy. And here 
 we get a glimpse of the deities of the old pagan world. 
 A writing appears on the wall, full of threatening 
 augury, which makes the hearts of the beholders shud- 
 der. Brunhild, — as we know from the Scandinavian 
 sagas, in which this legend, originally a German one, is 
 preserved in its pagan form, — was a Valkyr of the great 
 German God, Wuotan (Odin), who had sent her to 
 sleep with a prick of the magic thorn, and shut her up, 
 
 s 2 
 
52 GERMAN LITEKATUBE. 
 
 for a punishment, within a circling wall of flaming fire. 
 Upon this, Sigfridj the victorious god of the sun and of 
 spring, the god of nature with the bright shining eyes, 
 breaks through the flaming wall, and delivers the cap- 
 tive. They are then wedded, the sun-born god with the 
 earth-born maiden. But short is their nuptial joy. 
 Sigfrid departs, departs for ever from his young bride ; 
 just like the year, ever moving onward In his remorseless 
 career, parts from his first love, the verdant spring, for 
 his second love, the glowing summer. 
 
 This legend still lives on In the mouth of the Germans, 
 but In an altered shape. Instead of the awful Valkyr, 
 surrounded by a flaming wall, we have In the fairy tale, 
 Dornroschen, an enchanted maiden of wondrous beauty, 
 who has been pricked by a spindle, and sleeps behind 
 a wall of thorns until released by her deliverer.* 
 
 * For a criticism of the mythology of the " Nlbelmigenlied," see W. 
 Grimm's " Deutsche Heldensage ;" Lachmann, "Kritik der Sage ron den 
 Nibelmigen " (first in Ehein. Museum, 1 829, pp. 435-464 ; and then in 
 " Anmerkungen zu den Nihelungen und zurKlage," 1836, pp. 333-349), 
 W. Miiller," Versuch einermythoIogischenErklarungderNibelungsage," 
 1841. All the other attempts at a mythological or historical exposition 
 of the " Niebelungensage '' are failures ; e. g., Cruger's " Der ITrsprung des 
 Nibelungenlieds," 1841. From this condemnation we must except Peter 
 Erasmus Miiller's excellent " Sagabibliothek," which, however, treats 
 more of the northern shape of the Saga. To the observations in the 
 text on the origination of the " Nibelungenlied" from separate songs, we 
 may add thatW. Miiller, in his " Ueber die Liedervon der Nibelungen," 
 broaches quite a novel idea, viz., that the first part of the poem, with the 
 exception of a few later additions, originates from two authors. This 
 idea, which is based on good grounds, is a medium between Lachmann's 
 notion and the old hypothesis, which ascribed the whole work to one 
 writer only. In 1853 Adolf Holtzman started a conjecture which was 
 meant to upset the whole of Lachmann's theory about the origin of the 
 Nibelungenlied. This he endeavoured to do by showing that the Eecension 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 53 
 
 In the " Nibelungenlied," at least in its present shape, 
 the above mythic background is either presupposed, or 
 purposely omitted. But if we lift up the curtain,, 
 what a wondrous vista may be seen in the far distance. 
 The more than human Valkyrs, Sigfrid the magnificent 
 God of Light and Power ; Wuotan, the Lord of the 
 World and Giver of Victory ; and beyond these, Do- 
 nar and Ziu, Fro and Frowa, and all the figures, whe- 
 ther dreadful or benign, of the old pagan mythology 
 of Germany ; and further still, the terrible powers of 
 Nature herself, the phantoms of a wild primaeval 
 people. 
 
 But to return to the course of our story. It is true 
 that only at intervals we obtain a glimpse of the 
 demons lowering in the background ; but there is no 
 lack of demons of another sort. Jealousy, envy, 
 hatred, bloody revenge, nre all there. But these are 
 blended with the noblest aspirations of the human 
 breast, with love, and fidelity, and gratitude ; just in 
 fact as these are blended indissolubly in the heart of 
 man, so that one and the same pulsation produces love 
 and hate, envy and gratitude. This transformation of 
 the Saga from the harsher mythic character into a 
 milder and softer form, is solely attributable to the 
 
 of the poem, which was declared hy Lachmann to be the oldest, was only 
 a clumsy ahbreviation of the detailed description ; while this last was the 
 original shape of the poem, as it appears in the text of Laszberg's MS. 
 and edition. This assertion occasioned a considerable contest, which is 
 not yet decided. Holtzmann's proposition can only gain the victory if 
 he succeed in showing that all the oldest German epics, — the "Beovulf,' 
 the " Hildebrandslied," and even the " Heliand," and the later popular 
 poems, are clumsy abbreyiations of broader originals. 
 
 D 3 
 
54 GEEMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 humanizing influences of Christianity. Ominously the 
 tale moves on. The first step has been taken towards 
 the fulfilment of Kriemhild's dream. Brunhild's 
 jealousy has been awakened. Although she had been 
 conqueredj yet ever and anon the wild spirit of war 
 and contention comes upon her. On the evening of 
 her marriage she has a contest with Gunther, who, 
 being no longer assisted by Sigfrid, as on the former 
 occasion, is shamefully beaten. To heighten his 
 disgrace, the bride binds him hand and foot with her 
 girdle, and hangs him up by a hook in the wall, from 
 which he is not released until after abject entreaty. 
 Sad and disconcerted, he applies next day to Sigfrid, 
 who slips into his magic cape, contends with the bride, 
 and overcomes her as before. But this time he takes 
 from her, unobserved, the girdle and a ring, both of 
 which he gives to his wife Kriemhild, a gift which is 
 destined to be fatal to himself and spouse, and not only 
 so, but to all their kith and kin. 
 
 But the Nemesis still slimibers. The happy pair 
 set out for the land of Sigfrid's parents, Sigmund and 
 Sigelinde. Sigmund resigns the crown in favour of 
 his son. Kriemhild becomes the mother of a son, who 
 is called Gunther, after his uncle. Brunhild also bears 
 a son, who is called Sigfrid, For ten years Sigfrid 
 and his spouse live in undisturbed happiness. He, the 
 great ruler, not only of the Netherlands, but also of the 
 more distant country of the Nibelungs, and the posses- 
 sor of vast treasures ; she, the happiest of queens. 
 
 But ten years have not extinguished the fire that 
 burns in the bosom of Brunhild. "How is it," she 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 55 
 
 often says to her husband, "how is it that all these 
 years Kriemhild has never visited our court ? Is 
 not Sigfrid our liegeman, and yet these ten years he 
 has done no suit or service?" Gunther, who is well 
 aware that Sigfrid's arrival will only bring to light his 
 disgrace and shame, replies soothingly, " How can I 
 bring them hither, when they live so far away? That 
 were too much to require of them." But Brunhild 
 knew how to touch the strings of her husband's weak 
 though haughty heart : " "Were he twice as great and 
 rich, and lived twice as far off, yet he must obey, what- 
 ever his lord commands him. Besides, how delightful 
 it would be to see Kriemhild again, so modest, so grace- 
 ful, and so kind." Gunther yields, and sends messen- 
 gers to Sigfrid, who find him in Norway, at the castle 
 of the Nibelungs, and bid him to a festival at Worms, 
 on Solstice-day, the usual period for such entertain- 
 ments. Sigfrid, after taking counsel with his father 
 and followers, resolves to accept the invitation. Accom- 
 Danied by Kriemhild and the aged Sigmund (his mother, 
 Sigelinde was dead), and a thousand noble knights for 
 his retinue, he sets off for "Worms, joyous and unsus- 
 pecting, and bearing with him rich presents for the 
 Burgundian court. His little son, Gunther, who is 
 left behind, is fated never to see his father and mother 
 more. 
 
 Arrived at King Gunther's court, they meet with a 
 brilliant reception. Thousands of knights flock to the 
 tournament from every side. The kings, with their 
 escort of gay cavaliers, ride in sumptuous apparel 
 through the streets; noble dames and beauteous damsels 
 
 D 4 
 
56 GERMAN LITEEATCEE. 
 
 appear at the windows. The sound of trumpets, of 
 drums, and flutes re-echoes through the spacious city 
 on the Rhine. But amid these festal strains ever and 
 anon the shrill tones of jealous hate fall upon the ear ; 
 the hoarse voices of contention drown the sweet mur- 
 murs of the flute, and give the murderous signal which 
 shall soon affright the halls of the castle and the streets 
 of the city, shall soon fill every land, and shall make 
 many a heart to quake, even when a thousand years 
 have rolled by. 
 
 The two queens sit beside each other, as in the fair 
 days of yore. Kriemhild thinks of those days, when 
 she only enjoyed in prospect the happiness which is 
 now hers in reality. " I have a husband," so she says 
 in the innocence of her loving heart, " who deserves to 
 be lord of all these kingdoms." The fatal spark had 
 fallen. " How," rejoins Brunhild, with darkening 
 visage, " How were that possible ? These kingdoms 
 belong to Gunther, and will continue so." Kriemhild, 
 lost in loving affection for her lord, does not hear the 
 words of rising passion, and goes on in her careless 
 prattle. "Look at him, how noble he looks yonder, 
 marching before the rest like the moon before the stars. 
 Therefore it is that my heart is glad." Brunhild 
 rejoins that Gunther takes precedence before all the 
 other princes ; and Kriemhild retorts that Sigfrid is as 
 good as Gunther. Then it is that the rage of Brun- 
 hild bursts forth. " When thy brother wooed and won 
 me, Sigfrid himself said that he was Gunther's vassal, 
 and as such I have always considered him." Kriemhild 
 begs her to desist from these observations, for her 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 57 
 
 brothers had not given her to a vassal. " I shall not 
 stop," retorts Brunhild; "thy husband was and is 
 nought but a liegeman/' Then it is that the just wrath 
 of Kriemhild finds vent : " Yet Sigfrid is more noble 
 than my brother Gunther ; besides which, it is strange 
 that he has never paid him all these years either service 
 or tribute." " Well, we shall see," replies the other, 
 " whether people will show you as much respect as you 
 me." "Yes, we shall see," cries Kriemhild, " whether, 
 in the procession to church, I shall not take precedence 
 of you." 
 
 The queens go separately to the Minster. Brunhild 
 stops before the building and waits for RriemhUd. 
 When the latter arrives, she bids her stand still with 
 an imperious voice, in the face of all her train, " for a 
 vassal's wife has no right to go before her queen." 
 Then for the first time, the gentle woman flies into a 
 rage. " It beseemeth not thee to talk. Sigfrid wooed 
 and then deserted thee. He, and not Gunther, was thy 
 vanquisher, so 'tis thou who art a vassal's wife ; " and 
 then, repenting of her words as soon as she had uttered 
 them, she adds, " Thou art to blame for this quarrel. 
 It grieves me much, I do assure thee. Most ready 
 am I to be thy true friend again.'' But no. As they 
 came out of the Minster, Brunhild stops Kriemhild, 
 and requests her to explain, in order that she may take 
 sanguinary vengeance on Sigfrid, if he has boasted of 
 her love. Kriemhild shows the ring, and then — upon 
 Brunhild saying that she had stolen it — the girdle. 
 Humbled, yet breathing vengeance against Sigfrid for 
 betraying her, Brunhild resolves upon his death. But 
 
 D 5 
 
58 GERMAN LITERATDEB. 
 
 it is not true that Sigfrid has ever boasted of his 
 triumphs. All he had told Kriemhild was, that the 
 ring and girdle once belonged to Brunhild. And so 
 he says, "They have both forgotten themselves. It 
 grieves me sorely, Gunther, that my wife hath 
 troubled thine. Let us, and the women also, say no 
 more about it." 
 
 But Brunhild's wrath is not to be appeased. Boiling 
 with impotent rage, she keeps her chamber, when 
 Hagen finds her, and hears from her own lips the deep 
 insult that had been put upon her. His queen weeps. 
 She has been insulted by a vassal; he must die. 
 KriemhUd's three brothers, and Ortwin of Metz are 
 consulted. Giselher alone, the youngest of the three, 
 looks on the affair as a mere woman's quarrel, and far 
 too insignificant to be atoned for by Sigfrid's death. 
 The rest, Gunther among the number, after a short 
 hesitation, resolve that he must die. A false alarm of 
 war is to be spread ; Sigfrid is sure to go on the expe- 
 dition, and at a favourable opportunity he is to be 
 slain. 
 
 Before leaving for the war Hagen waits on Kriem- 
 hild to bid her the customary adieu. She has almost 
 forgotten the dispute, and has not the faintest suspicion 
 that she sees before her one who has sworn the death of 
 her husband. "Hagen," she says, "we are relations. 
 To whom rather than to thee shall I entrust the safety 
 of my Sigfrid ? Guard him well, I charge thee on thine 
 allegiance. When he bathed in the dragon's gore there 
 was one spot between his shoulder-blades which was 
 covered by a broad leaf of the linden. Here he is 
 
THE OLU PEKIOU. 59 
 
 vulnerable. When the war spears are flying thick one 
 might strike him there. So shield him, Hagen, I be- 
 seech thee." "Well," says the traitor, "but sew, I 
 pray thee, a mark, my lady, on his dress, just in the 
 exact spot which I am to guard. " And so the unsus- 
 pecting creature sews a silken cross on her husband's 
 tunic with her own hand. The expedition being now 
 no longer necessary, it is changed into a grand hunting 
 party. Sigfrid takes a last farewell of his affectionate 
 spouse. Her soul is troubled with dark forebodings, 
 just as it was in the days of her childhood, when she 
 dreamt of the falcon and the eagles ; for she has had a 
 dream where she saw two cliffs fall upon Sigfrid, in the 
 ruins of which he disappears. Sigfrid comforts her. 
 Nobody can be his foe ; he has been kind to all. He 
 will soon be back again. She fears, but what and 
 whom she knows not. Hagen, the only one that could 
 be a source of alarm to her, she thinks she has made 
 her friend. But she parts from Sigfrid with the words, 
 " Eight ' sorry I that thou dost leave me thus. " The 
 chase is over. The hunters are wearied and thirsty, 
 but they have nothing at hand to slake their thirst 
 withal. Hagen, however, bethinks him of a fountain 
 in the neighbouring forest, whither, by his advice, they 
 repair. The wide-spreading linden that shades the 
 fountain is in sight, when Hagen expresses a wish to 
 have a specimen of Sigfrid's renowned speed of foot. 
 " Let us race to the fountain, " is Sigfrid's reply ; " I 
 will retain my coat and spear and shield ; you throw 
 yours aside." Off they set, bounding like panthers; 
 but Sigfrid comes in far the first. He then lays 
 
 s 6 
 
60 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 down his arms, and waits till the king comes up and 
 drinks, before venturing to quench his own thirst. 
 When Gunther has drunk, he also stoops down to the 
 spring. While he is so engaged the treacherous Hagen 
 removes the arms out of his reach and darts the spear 
 right through the cross mark on Sigfrid's back. Mor- 
 tally wounded, he springs to his feet to take vengeance 
 on his murderer. The only weapon left him, however, 
 was his bejewelled shield, with which he rushes upon 
 Hagen. Out fly the precious stones with the violence 
 of his blows. Hagen is smitten to the earth, and the 
 shield is dashed to pieces. But the hand of death is 
 upon the hero. His cheeks grow pale and his feet 
 totter, and the husband of Kriemhild sinks down among 
 the flowers which are bedabbled with his heart's blood. 
 "Cowards," he cries to his murderers, "it is thus ye 
 have rewarded my fidelity; it is thus that ye treat your 
 blood relations." The Burgundian knights now rush 
 to the spot, and break out into loud lament. Gunther 
 too is heard bewailing. Waking for a moment from 
 his death-trance the murdered man exclaims, " Why 
 weep for the mischief ye yourselves have done? It 
 were better omitted." The fiendish Hagen mocks at 
 all alike, and rejoices at the catastrophe. This draws 
 one more sentence from the dying man. • " Had I but 
 known your murderous intent, defence had been an easy 
 thing. Alas ! for thee, my wife, Kriemhild. Alas ! for 
 my son, that one can say of him that his nearest kin 
 were guilty of murder;" and then, still thinking of his 
 best-beloved, he says, " Noble King Gunther, if thou 
 canst still be true to any one, then let me commend to 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 61 
 
 thee my wife. She is thy sister; protect her as becomes 
 a prince. Never again shall I be seen by my father 
 and my men." And so he dies. His corpse is placed 
 on a gold-red shield and carried to Worms, on the 
 Rhine. It is proposed by some that they shall say he 
 was slain by robbers. "Not so," cries Hagen; "what 
 recks it if Kriemhild know that I slew him. She has 
 insulted Brunhild too deeply for me to care whether 
 she weeps or no." 
 
 They arrive at Worms, and the wretch, Hagen, 
 deposits the dead body at Kriemhild's door, being well 
 aware that she will see it in the morning when she goes 
 to matins. And so it comes to pass. The domestic 
 who precedes Kriemhild with a light bids her stop, for 
 the corpse of a knight is lying in the street. A loud 
 cry of horror bursts from Kriemhild. She knows who 
 it is without being told. " They have murdered thee ! " 
 she screams. " Thy shield has not been hewn in 
 battle. Whoever has done this shall die." Sigfrid's 
 father and retainers are awakened by the noise, and 
 they rush forward through the purlieus of the palace, 
 bent on revenge. Kriemhild bids them bide their time. 
 There was a superstition in those days, which even now 
 is not extinct, that when the murderer approached the 
 bier, the wounds of the murdered man would break out 
 afresh. She resorts to this test. And just when Gun- 
 ther was in the act of trying to persuade her that her 
 husband had fallen by some unknown robbers, Hagen 
 comes near, and the wounds begin to flow. " I know 
 the robbers well," she cries, " and God will avenge the 
 deed." The body is placed in a coffin and borne out to 
 
62 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 the grave, followed by Kriemliild in an agony of woe. 
 The coffin, rich with gold and silver, is broken open for 
 her to take another look at Sigfrid. With her white 
 hand she lifts up the head and imprints a kiss on his 
 pale lips. 
 
 Sigmund and his retainers depart from Worms ; but 
 Ki'iemhild cannot quit the spot where her love began 
 and had so luckless an ending. She cares not for 
 crown or treasures, nor yet for her child, now that 
 Sigfrid is gone., Two thoughts alone possses her 
 mind : grief and revenge. At first grief takes the pre- 
 eminence ; but by degrees revenge asserts its power, 
 and therefore it is that she is indifferent to her child. 
 It may here be remarked that in this Saga, in its oldest 
 form, no mention is made of the child. So Homer, in 
 the classical epic, is averse to introducing characters 
 which are of little interest for the development of the 
 story. 
 
 For three years after the death of Sigfrid, Kriemhild 
 vouchsafes not a word to her brother Gunther. Upon 
 Hagen she will not even deign to look. For the pur- 
 pose of reconciling their sister, the brothers send for 
 the famous hoard (hort) which Sigfrid gave to Kriem- 
 hild for a wedding present, and which is guarded by 
 Alberich in the land of the Nibelungs. For four nights 
 and as many days twelve wagons are employed in trans- 
 porting the treasure from the hollow mountain, where 
 it lay, to the ship. On its arrival it is presented to 
 Kriemhild, who becomes friends with the brothers, but 
 not with Hagen. To alleviate her woe, Kriemhild 
 spends her time in munificent deeds of charity. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 63 
 
 It is now that her adversary Hagen again crosses 
 her path. He fancies that her almsgiving will gain all 
 the people to her side and make them disaffected to the 
 king. In opposition to .the wish of the brothers he 
 seizes on the treasure. Gemot advises that they should 
 sink it into the Rhine, which is accordingly done, an 
 oath being taken by all that they will never divulge 
 the spot.* 
 
 When the Nibelung's hoard has been thus brought 
 into the land of the Burgundians, they take the name 
 of Nibelungen, just in the same way that Sigfrid him- 
 self was called Nibelung, or lord of the Nibelungs, on 
 becoming possessed of the treasure. 
 
 For this reason the second part of the poem was, at 
 the time of its composition, called " Nibelungen Not," 
 while the whole now bears the name of " Nibelungen 
 Lied." 
 
 In order fully to comprehend the importance of this 
 treasure, the abstraction of which stirred up afresh 
 Kriemhild's wrath against her brothers, and led to their 
 downfall, we must remember what immense store the 
 Old-Germans, at least from the third or fourth century, 
 set upon " red gold " and jewels. Coloured robes and 
 golden ornaments, as may be seen from the old ballads, 
 were the customary gifts of kings. In the poem of 
 " Beovulf," ring-giver or gold-dispenser is synonymous 
 with " king." 
 
 But another circumstance deserves observation. Not 
 only does the Nibelung-gold give its own name to the 
 
 * According to the popular tradition, it was buried in the Rhine, be- 
 tween Worms and Lorsch, where it continues to this day. 
 
64 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 successive possessors of it, but it also seems to bring 
 about their ruin. Schilbung and Nibelung are slain by 
 Sigfrid on account of the treasure. Sigfrid, the second 
 possessor, is cut off in the zenith of his renown. And 
 the Burgundian kings, the third possessors, are, as the 
 poem expressly states, destroyed for not revealing 
 where the treasure was hid. It is plain that we are 
 here upon the dark confines of Pagan mythology. The 
 gold is the property of the sons of darkness, of mist 
 (nebel: hence Nibelungen. Niflheim is, in the Northern 
 mythology, the name for the Land of the Dead). 
 
 Whoever gives himself up to the gold, falls into the 
 power of the spirits of the subterranean world ; becomes 
 in fact a Nibelung, or doomed to death ; while the gold 
 itself is destined to pass from his hands. It is accord- 
 ingly sunk into the Rhine, where the spirits regain 
 possession of it ; the idea of the fatal fascination which 
 gold exercises on man, thus worked out, affords a 
 glimpse at the deeply imaginative cast of mind possessed 
 by the old Germans.* 
 
 The period of vengeance now arrives, and we pass 
 into the second part of the poem. In distant Hungary 
 (Heunen or Hunnenland), Helche, the wife of Etzel, 
 King of the Huns, dies. Her two sons had previously 
 fallen by the side of Dietrich of Bern in the battle 
 of Ravenna. Etzel wishes to marry again, and the 
 widow of Sigfrid is recommended to him by his faithful 
 counsellor. Margrave Riidiger of Bechlarn. After some 
 hesitation as to whether he ought to marry a Christian, 
 
 'See the edition published by Cotta, and so ably illustrated by Schnorr, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 65 
 
 he decides in the affirmative, and despatches KUdiger 
 himself to the Burgundian court with offers of marriage, 
 EUdiger, on his journey westward, stops at his home, 
 Bechlarn, in Austria, and relates to his wife Gotelinde, 
 and his daughter, the object of his journey, who, 
 though rejoiced that he should have been selected for 
 so honourable a mission, grieve for the death of Helche. 
 Riidiger arrives at Worms incognito. Hagen, however, 
 exclaims in astonishment, " 'Tis long since I saw the 
 bold blade RUdiger; but if I am not much deceived, 
 this must be B.iidiger himself come from the land of 
 the Huns." " Wherefore," asks the king, " should he 
 come hither?" But at this moment a recognition takes 
 place, and there is great joy in consequence. Hagen 
 had formerly met Riidiger at the court of King Etzel. 
 The king and his brothers are in favour of the proposal, 
 but Hagen is against it. " Friend Hagen," rejoins the 
 king, "thou canst now give a proof of thy fidelity, 
 and make it up with Kriemhild by consenting to her 
 marriage." But Hagen remains immoveable. " Let 
 Kriemhild wear Helche's crown, and thou wilt see 
 what misfortunes she will cause us." Hagen alone of 
 all the court, he who perpetrated the murder, has dark 
 presages of the impending destruction that will follow 
 her marriage. Kriemhild, too, declines the proposition, 
 " God forbid that you should jest thus with a poor 
 wretch like me. What should I have to do with a man 
 who has already won one woman's heart?" Neverthe- 
 less she consents to see Riidiger; but no sooner has 
 she done this, than she begins a piteous wail for her 
 murdered husband. Riidiger appears the next day. 
 
66 GEEMAN LITEEATUEB. 
 
 But she replies to his offers with " Margrave EUdiger, 
 had you known what I have endured, you would never 
 ask me to wed again. In Sigfrid I lost more than any 
 woman can hope to regain." Still Kiidiger renews his 
 solicitations, when she asks time for reflection till the 
 following day. Meanwhile, her brothers, Giselher and 
 Gemot, reason with her. " If any can abate thy grief 
 'tis Etzel. From the Ehine to the Khone, from the 
 Elbe to the ocean, there is no monarch so powerful as 
 he." " Weeping and wailing befit me more than royal 
 pomp," she replies ; " I can no longer queen it as of yore. 
 My beauty is all faded." The night is spent by her in 
 sorrowful reflection. When E-iidiger comes next day 
 to hear her final answer, she persists in her refusal ; 
 until he says to her aside, " Had you none else in 
 Hunnen-land but me and my true retainers, none 
 should insult you with impunity." She raises herself 
 in an instant at the words ; the thought of vengeance 
 filling her with new life. " Swear then," she cries, " to 
 avenge my wrongs." Kiidiger swears, little suspecting 
 what bloody thoughts lurk in her bosom ; or that the oath 
 will bring about destruction and woe to him and his. 
 
 Sh then gives him her hand in token of consent, 
 and before long they set off to Hungary, her brothers 
 bearing her company as far as Veringen, on the 
 Danube. On the way they stop at Eudiger's castle 
 of Bechlam, on the Danube, where his wife Gotelind 
 receives her new mistress with much affection. 
 
 After a short interval of rest they proceed by way of 
 Medelike (hodii Molk) to the castle of Zeizenmauer, 
 where numberless hordes, which are subject to Attila's 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 67 
 
 sway, join the procession. At Tulna she is received 
 liy Etzel with four-and-twenty kings and princes in his 
 train. Among those who do homage to her here are 
 Blodel, Etzel's brother, Hawart the Bold, King of the 
 Danes, and his retainer Iring the True. Here come 
 Imfrid, Landgrave of Thuringia (known in history as 
 Hermanfrid, son-in-law to Theodoric the Great), and 
 the Saxon Ltords, Gibeke and Hornboge, and Prince 
 Ramung of Wlachenland. But who is it that stands at 
 the head of that group of knights with the wolf- 
 helmets ? He is tall, and like a lion about his loins, 
 which look as if they were cast in bronze. His clear 
 eye and kingly forehead remind her of Sigfrid, but 
 it is Sigfrid's cheerful youth changed into the sober 
 experience of ripe manhood, across whose brow the 
 storms of fortune have passed. His redundant locks 
 are confined by a kingly circlet ; with his nervous left 
 hand he grasps his sword-hilt, while his right rests on 
 a lion-shield. It is Dietrich of Bern, King of the 
 Goths, the greatest hero of his time, and, after Sigfrid, 
 the most renowned in German legend, who, together 
 with his band of Wolfings, is a guest at the court of 
 Etzel. On their arrival at Vienna the marriage is 
 celebrated with surpassing magnificence, and the fes- 
 tivities continue for seven days. But Kriemhild, the 
 cause of all this vast concourse and jubilee, "her 
 thoughts were far away on the Ehine, and on the 
 happy days she spent with Sigfrid. Her eyes grew 
 moist, but she was forced to hide her- tears." And 
 thus she descends the Danube to her new home of 
 Etzelnburg, sick at heart in the midst of her splendour. 
 
68 GERMAN LITEEATUEK. 
 
 Seven years have elapsed, when she brings forth a 
 prince, who is christened Ortlleb. After this, six 
 more years expire, and then the day of vengeance 
 begins. " Many a long year I have been in a foreign 
 land," she says to Etzel, " and none of my relations 
 have been to see me ; and people say that I am an 
 exile who has no friends or home. Send, I pray thee, 
 to Worms, and invite all my relatives to a festival." 
 The king at once despatches the warrior-minstrels, 
 Werbel and Swemlin, to invite the Burgundian court 
 to an entertainment on Solstice-day. 
 
 When the envoys arrive at Worms, seven days are 
 taken to consider whether the invitation should be 
 accepted. Hagen strenuously opposes going. "We 
 shall lose our life and honour. Etzel'S'wife will have 
 her revenge at last." Rumold, another knight, is of 
 the same opinion. But Gemot says, " If you are 
 afraid, we will go alone." Hagen on this advises that 
 if they must go they had better not go unguarded. 
 His advice is followed. Among the multitude of 
 retainers that join the expedition is the bold and 
 joyous Volker of Alzei, skilled in the viol and in song, 
 and also Dankwart, Hagen's brother. Kriemhild is 
 full of terrible joy when she hears that they are coming. 
 Her aim is accomplished. 
 
 Dark forebodings of the future still agitate the Bur- 
 gundian court. Ute, the aged mother of Kriemhild, 
 dreams before they start that all the birds in the land 
 are dead. Hagen, disconcerted at the omen, would 
 again have dissuaded them from the expedition. But, 
 stung by the ridicule of Gemot, he determines to be of 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD, 69 
 
 the party ; and, on account of his knowledge of the 
 roads, is selected as guide. 
 
 On arriving at the Danube, they find the waters out. 
 Hagen, who goes through the lonely forest in search of 
 the ferryman, hears the sound of splashing waters, and 
 sees two water-sprites, or swan-maidens, bathing. Being 
 aware that they could foretell the future, he has recourse 
 to a stratagem for the purpose of obtaining the infor- 
 mation he desires. He removes their clothes ; upon 
 which the forms of the deep approach, and, to get her 
 clothes back again, one of them says, " Great honour 
 awaits you in Etzel's land." But the next moment the 
 sinister voice of the other calls out of the waves, 
 " Hagen, son of Aldrian, be warned. Go back while 
 there is time. None of you wiU return over the 
 Danube except the chaplain of the king." 
 
 By the assistance of the spirits he then finds the 
 ferryman, whom, after a desperate struggle, he murders, 
 casting his corpse into the water. After ferrying all 
 the rest of the party over, he returns for the chaplain, 
 whom, to break the spell, he hurls into the stream. 
 " God's poor priest" at first tries to regain the boat, 
 but is thrust back into the water by the merciless 
 Hagen. He then makes for the shore which they had 
 left, and which he succeeds in reaching. Hagen, when 
 he perceives him escape, knows that all is over, and 
 breaks the boat to pieces. Henceforward he is prepared 
 for death. 
 
 In their passage through Bavaria they have a fight 
 with Gelfrat, the reigning prince, in which Dankwart 
 plays the most conspicuous part. At last they arrive 
 
70 GEEMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 at the castle of Bechlarn, -where they meet with a most 
 friendly reception. It often occurs in real life that the 
 destruction of all our domestic happiness is preceded by 
 some moment of intense pleasure. So it is here. "We 
 have a beautiful picture of domestic felicity in the noble 
 Eiidiger, with his gentle spouse Gotelind, and their 
 blooming daughter, Dietlinde, who receive the party 
 with the greatest hospitality. The modest Dietlinde 
 gives them each the kiss of welcome, till she comes to 
 Hagen, whose ferocious visage makes her shudder; but, 
 being admonished by her father, she offers him her pale 
 cheek. In the afternoon she again joins the festive 
 throng, and listens to the music of Volker von Alzei. 
 Good fellowship has reached Its height, when the Bur- 
 gundians sue for the hand of Dietlinde for the young 
 prince Giselher. The betrothal at once takes place ; 
 and it Is arranged that they shall marry on the return 
 of the Burgundians homeward. Volker again delights 
 them all with his various songs, some grave, some gay, 
 till the hour of separation arrives. Before parting, 
 Kiidlger presents Gemot with his favourite sword, 
 which he has wielded in many a battle. Gemot wears 
 it from that time forward, and the last blow he deals 
 with it Is on the head of the noble donor. Hagen 
 also receives as a souvenir from Gotellnde the shield- 
 of her father, Nodung, which had hung up as a precious 
 relic in Kiidiger's hall of arms. 
 
 Old Hildebrand, Dietrich's retainer, Is the first to 
 hear of their arrival In Hungary, and bears the tidings 
 to his master, who at once rides forth to meet them. 
 Hagen espies him coming, and says, " Up, noble lords 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 71 
 
 and kings ; yonder comes a royal band. It is the daring 
 warriors of the Amelungs, with him of Bern at their 
 head."' Up stand the princes to receive Dietrich, who 
 dismounts. "Welcome Gunther, Gemot, and Giselher ; 
 welcome Hagen, Volker, and Dankwart. Know ye 
 not how much Kriemhild still grieves for the hero from 
 the-Mbelung-land. " "She may grieve for long, for 
 that matter," retorts the unfeeling Hagen; "he was 
 done to death many a year ago. She had best hold to 
 the Hun-king. Sigfrid will never come back. " " How 
 Sigfrid died it boots not now to ask," replies the Gothic 
 king ; " enough that as long as Kriemhild lives, she 
 threatens woe. Hagen, thou champion of the Nibelungs, 
 beware of her." Dietrich hereupon further informs 
 them in confidence that Etzel's wife prays each morning 
 to God in heaven for vengeance on Sigfrid's murderers. 
 " It can't be altered now," chimes in the merry musician, 
 Volker ; " let us off and away to Etzel's court and wait 
 for whatever betide." 
 
 The news of the Burgundians' approach having now 
 reached Etzel and his queen, they go to the window 
 and see the well-known banners just entering the castle. 
 " Those are my relatives," cries Kriemhild; "whoever is 
 true to me, let him remember my sorrow." The Huns 
 flock together to get a sight of fierce Hagen who slew 
 Sigfrid, Kriemhild's former spouse. There he comes on 
 his lofty steed, the dark, grey-haired warrior, with his 
 fiery eye and fearful countenance ; his frame as if it 
 were of wrought iron. He dismounts and approaches 
 Dietrich. "Who is that strong warrior standing by 
 the side of Dietrich ?" exclaims the Hun-king from the 
 
72 GERMAN LITEEATUER. 
 
 window. An old Burgundian, who had accompanied 
 Kriemhild hither, replies, " That is him of Tronei : his 
 sire was Aldrian. He looks friendly there, by Dietrich's 
 side, but he is a man of fiercest mood." And the king 
 remembers how, in days gone by, Aldrian was at his 
 court, and how he himself, being then but a stripling, 
 contended in many trials of skill and strength with 
 Hagen and Walter of Wasichenstein. 
 
 The mass of the Burgundians are lodged in the 
 neighbourhood, under the command of Dankwart; while 
 the kings and higher nobles take up their abode in the 
 palace. In the midst of the bustle Hagen meets Volker, 
 and, conscious of their approaching fate, they swear to 
 stand by each other until death. From a window 
 Kriemhild sees them sitting on a bench of stone, with 
 a crowd of Huns staring at them in silent awe. She 
 bursts into tears, and when her people demand the 
 cause of her weeping, bids them take vengeance upon 
 Hagen. Sixty men arm and descend towards the court- 
 yard, led by the queen, who purposes surprising Hagen 
 into a public confession of his crime. "I know him 
 well," she says, " he is so insolent that he won't deny it." 
 Volker, who perceives the crowd descending the stairs, 
 bids Hagen be on his guard, who expresses utter con- 
 tempt for such adversaries. "But, Volker," he con- 
 tinues, " art sure thou wilt stand by me, as I by thee ?" 
 " That will I, as long as life shall last," answers Volker. 
 " Come one, come all, I'll never budge a foot." "May 
 God in heaven reward thee," replies his friend, " what 
 want I more ? " This oath of mutual fidelity is preserved 
 throughout. Were it not for this redeeming feature,. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 73 
 
 Hagen would be a perfect monster. Volker rises on 
 the approach of the queen, but Hagen retains his seat 
 with an air of cool defiance. But his insolence does 
 not stop here. He places across his knee a gleaming 
 sword, the hilt of which is set with a jasper green as 
 grass. Kriemhild recognises It at once. It is the 
 renowned Balmung which used to hang at Sigfrid's 
 side. This was indeed a cruel thrust, ripping up 
 afresh the old heart's wound. " Who sent for thee. 
 Sir Hagen? How dared you ride hither after what 
 you've done ?" " Nobody sent for me," is the reply ; 
 " three kings were bidden bere. They are my masters, 
 and I their man. Where they are am I also." " You 
 know surely why I hate you," she continues ; " you 
 slew Sigfrid, whom I shall never cease to mourn." 
 "What need of mincing matters further," he bursts 
 out. " Ay ! I slew Sigfrid because the dame Kriem- 
 hild insulted thp fair Brunhild. Do your worst; here 
 am I to answer for the wrong." The signal of mortal 
 defiance has thus been given. But a pause ensues. 
 The Huns fear to begin the attack on Hagen armed 
 with the sword of Sigfrid, and the minstrel Volker 
 with his sword-fiddle-bow ;* till at last the two grim 
 warriors rise quietly from the bench, and with firm 
 tread stalk across to the hall, to defend their masters in 
 case of need. The queen follows them to greet her 
 relatives ; but only to Giselher, her youngest brother, 
 will she vouchsafe the kiss of amity. On perceiving 
 
 * The bold minstrel was in utrumque paratus : to fight with stern 
 necessity, or sweep the strings of his instrument, gay even amid the 
 storm of fate. — Editor. 
 
 E 
 
74 GERMAN LITEKATURE. 
 
 this, Hagen immediately fastens his helm tighter. 
 Kriemhild then enquires for the Nibelung treasure ; 
 had they brought It with them? "The Nibelungen- 
 hort," replies Hagen, " was sunk into the Ehine, and 
 there it will stay till doomsday." And then he adds 
 contemptuously, "I haye had enough. to bring from 
 the Rhine, what with my shield and helm, and sword 
 and buckler." On Kriemhild's next requesting them 
 to deliver up their arms, as was usual on a friendly 
 ■visit, Hagen is against complying with the request. 
 Suspecting that they had been forewarned by some- 
 , body, she asks who it was. " 'Twas I," replied the 
 Gothic king, boldly stepping forward, "I warned them." 
 Abashed by the piercing open eye of Dietrich, Kriem- 
 hild stifles her rage and hurries silently away, casting, 
 a§ she does sc^ furious glances at her foes. 
 
 Presently, after being received by Etzel, the guests 
 retire to rest. As he enters the vast sleeping chamber, 
 a cry of anguish escapes from the youngest brother, 
 the newly-betrothed Giselher. Hagen and Volker 
 keep guard without, still and motionless. Yet Volker 
 takes his viol once more. Its clear sweet tones break 
 the silence of the night, and sound the knell of the 
 Burgundis^n race. 
 
 But noi A band of Hu-hs- who attempt to surprise 
 the sleepers are frightened away by Hagen's terrible 
 voice. Next day a tournament (Buhurt) is held, 
 whereat Volker, getting from sport to earnest, kills a 
 Hun, and a general combat is alone prevented by the 
 firmness of the king. 
 
 Kriemhild next tries to gain over old Hildebrand, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 75 
 
 and then Dietrich, but in vain. Dietrich reminds her 
 that the Burgundians are her relatives, and had come 
 relying on her good faith. They had done Mm no harm. 
 So that Sigfrid should never be avenged by Dietrich. 
 
 At last the queen persuades Blodelin, her husband's 
 brother, by the promise of a great reward, to attack 
 Dankwart's Burgundians, who lodged near at hand. 
 He goes to execute his mission. The queen returns to 
 the banquet hall. Hither her son Ortlieb is also 
 brought, and introduced by Etzel to the company. 
 The king even says that the boy shall be sent to 
 Burgundy to complete his education. At the sight of 
 Kriemhild's son, Hagen, in a transport of fury, hints 
 that the young prince has not long to live. The whole 
 company, together with Etzel, are thrown into conster^ 
 nation at this menace, when suddenly the storm begins. 
 
 Blodel, true to his promise, had gone with an armed 
 band to the. adjoining hostel, and told Dankwart that 
 he was come to take vengeance on him for his brother 
 Hagen's murder of Sigfrid. By way of answer, 
 Dankwart, at one stroke, severs his head from his body. 
 Upon this Blodel's retainers set upon the Burgundians, 
 and after a murderous fight the whole of the latter are 
 alain, except Dankwart, who escapes, and rushing up 
 the stairs in spite of the steward, who tries to stop 
 him, gains the inner door of the royal hall. 
 
 Covered with gore, and his drawn sword in his 
 hand, he tliunders out, "Why sit you here so long, 
 brother Hagen? Thou, and God in heaven are to 
 blame for what's been done. Knights and knaves are 
 all lying dead in the hostel." " Guard the door, 
 
 E 2 
 
76 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Dankwart, that none escape," cries Hagen savagely, 
 springing to his feet and drawing his sword, " Now we 
 drink the cup of remembrance, and offer up the king's 
 wine."* In the next moment the severed head of the 
 innocent lad lay in his mother's lap. A second blow, 
 and the child's attendant lies dead at Hagen's feet. A 
 third lops off the right hand of the minstrel Werbel. 
 Straightway Volker, then Gunther and Gemot, and 
 lastly Giselher, rise upon the Huns, who fall in their 
 blood one after another till the floor is covered with 
 corpses. Tolker and! Dankwart guard the door to 
 prevent anyone from entering, the former exclaiming 
 to Hagen that two men can keep the door better than 
 a thousand bolts. In the midst of the tumult, the 
 queen, in an agony of terror, implores Dietrich's pro- 
 tectioDr, who, though he had declined to be the minister 
 of her vengeance, is not unmindful of the duty he owes 
 to the spouse of his royal friend and patron. He rai^s 
 his mighty voice, which resounds through the whcde 
 castle, Kke the blast of a buffalo-hom. The din of 
 battle pauses for a moment at the soun^ when Diet- 
 rich demands permission for himself and his followers 
 to retire. Gunther replies that his quarrel is only with 
 those who have murdtered his men. And so Etzel, the 
 queen, and Eiidiger, togetheif with Dietrich and his 
 men, are allowed to leave the halL They have scarcely 
 
 * "Nuntrmken-wirdieMinne.undopfemdesKbDigs'Wem." A fear- 
 fully beautiful expression. According to the old heathen custom, at the 
 close of the feast a cup was drained in memory of the dead (Minne origi- 
 nally means recoUecfion). So here the banquet closes with a cup in 
 memory of Sigfrid ; but the drink is blood, and the cups are swords 
 The king's wine is the blood of his son and his friends. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 77 
 
 gone when the butchery begins afresh, and the whole 
 of Etzel's attendants being slain, their bodies are cast 
 down the stairs by the Burgundians. 
 
 Hagen now appears in the doorway, and taunts the 
 aged Etzel for retiring from the fight; while Volker 
 derides the Huns as a pack of cowards. Stung to fury 
 by the insult, Kriemhild promises Etzel's shield full of 
 gold to the man who kills Hagen. 
 
 Upon this the noble Iring, Margrave of Denmark, 
 hurls his spear at Hagen, and then attacks him sword 
 in hand. The chambers resound with the blows struck 
 on helm and targe; but Hagen is invincible. The 
 Margrave then rushes on Volker, Gunther, and Gemot 
 in succession, and lastly on Giselher, who strikes him 
 down. But he is up again directly, and inflicts a deep 
 wound on Hagen, with his sword, Waske. Maddened 
 with the wound, Hagen dashes furiously on his assailant, 
 striking fire from his helmet at every stroke of his 
 sword, and the Dane is driven down the staircase. 
 After cooling his temples for a brief space in the evening 
 breeze, while Kriemhild holds his shield, Iring again 
 rushes to the onset. Loud and fierce is the struggle, 
 till Hagen with a blow of his sword cuts through his 
 foe's targe and helmet, and then, before he can recover 
 from the shock, brains him with his heavy battle-axe. 
 Clamourous for revenge his friends rush up the stairs, 
 but to no purpose. Irnfrid, the Thuringian, is slain by 
 Volker ; while Hawart meets with a similar fate from 
 the hand of Hagen. 
 
 Darkness has descended on the fray, and the com- 
 batants part for a space. In the stillness of the night 
 
 E 3 
 
78 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 the blood is heard running down the gutters into the 
 courtyard. Hagen and Volker, though exhausted by 
 the combat, keep their accustomed watch. At length, 
 feeling certain what their ultimate fate must be, and 
 weary of suspense, they demand to be let out into the 
 courtyard below, so that they may fight and die at once 
 like heroes, sword in hand. Kriemhild, fearful that her 
 prey may escape her, refuses to consent. On this the 
 love of life Speaks from the lips of her youngest brother 
 Giselher. " Alas! fair sister, I little thought, when at 
 your invitation I came across the Rhine, to meet with 
 such distress. What have I done that I should die in 
 foreign land ? Faithful have I ever been to thee, and 
 never did you wrong. I had thought to find thee deaf 
 and kind. If I needs must die, let my death be quick." 
 Moved at this touching appeal, Kriemhild demands that 
 Hagen be delivered up. " As for you, I will let you 
 live ; you are my brothers, and the children of one 
 mother." " We'll die with Hagen," cries Gemot, " even 
 were we a thousand brothers." " We'll die with Hagen," 
 adds Giselher, " faithful to the death." 
 
 Foiled in her attempt, the rage of Kriemhild knows 
 no bounds. She causes the hall to be set on fire ; and 
 fanned by the wind the flames soon illumine the dark 
 sky. The captives, suffocated by the smoke and heat 
 and tormented with intolerable thirst, scream out in 
 desperation. Let the living quench their thirst with 
 the blood of the dead, is the counsel of the terrible 
 Hagen. His counsel is taken. 
 
 Thicker and thicker fall the burning rafters from the 
 roof; the gasping prisoners who survive press close to 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 79 
 
 the stone walls of the building, and endeavour with 
 their shields to protect themselves from the scorching 
 heat. At last the short summer night — longer than, 
 the longest night of winter — was over. All the wood 
 of the building is consumed ; and in the grey dawn the 
 desperate remnant of the band is seen among the 
 smoking ruins, bent on fighting to the last. 
 
 Every attempt of the Huns to take the hall proves 
 fruitless. Their corpses again cover the stairs by 
 hundreds. At this juncture the king turns to Elidiger 
 of Bechlarn as a last resource, and conjures him by his 
 allegiance to do battle in his behalf. Riidiger is in a 
 great strait. If he refuses to avenge the queen, he 
 breaks the oath he swore her thirteen years before at 
 Worms, and is faithless to his king and host If he re- 
 sponds to the appeal, he will be a traitor to those who 
 came hither undsr his safe conduct. In either case he 
 will becovered withinfamyfor the rest of his days. What 
 shall he do? His strong German heart, is torn asunder 
 with the intensity of the inward struggle. At last his 
 mind is made up. He will be faithful to his sovereign. 
 He will sacrifice all for him — body, ay, and soul also. 
 His men arm themselves. He himself advances to the 
 door, and gives the Burgundians fair warning ; that he 
 may thus far at least be free from the imputation of 
 treachery. They remind him that they have come 
 hither under his safe conduct. Giselher fondly imagines 
 that the father of his betrothed is come to bring them 
 aid, but is undeceived by EUdiger, who announces that 
 he is come, not as a friend, but as a foe, and that he is 
 prepared to die in the struggle. Fidelity to his king 
 
 £ i 
 
80 
 
 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 must yieU before fidelity to his friends. Ere the 
 fight begifls Riidiger hands over to Hagen his own 
 shield in exchange for the one that the Burgundian had 
 deceived from Gotelinde as a token of friendship. 
 
 Gemot hastening to the assistance of his men, who 
 are attacked by Kiidiger, is slain by the latter, but in 
 the same moment he gives Riidiger his death-wound 
 with his own sword. 
 
 Loud lamentations for the fallen sound through the 
 jtalace and reach the ears of Dietrich of Bern, who 
 Sends to enquire the cause. Shocked to hear of Kiidl- 
 ger's death, he despatches Hildebrand to demand where- 
 fore the Burgundians had done this. The Burgundians 
 with scoffs and taunts refuse to deliver up the dead 
 body. It is then that the mighty race of the Ame- 
 lungs, with Hildebrand at their head, contrary to the 
 orders of Dietrich, fly to arms. Volker, the sweet 
 musician, is stricken dead by Hildebrand, Gisel er 
 aind the Gothic prince Wolfart fall by each other's 
 hand ; and Hagen, eager to avenge his friend Volker's 
 death, rushes with irresistible impetuosity on Hilde- 
 brand, who is forced to retire severely wounded. He 
 Returns alone to Dietrich ; " I am the only one left," he 
 cries, "the rest of thy men are slain." So Dietrich 
 advances alone towards Gunther and Hagen, who are 
 the Sole survivors of the Burgundian band, and bids 
 them yield. " Not till the sword of the Nibelnngs is 
 broke asunder," Is Hagen's proud reply, Dietrich 
 fights with Hagen, gives him a desperate wound, then 
 seizes him with the gripe of a lion, binds him, and 
 brings him to Kriemhild. Gunther fares no better. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 81 
 
 After recommending the queen to spare their lives, 
 Dietrich retires with sad and serious mien. 
 
 But Kriemhild has not yet quaffed the cup of ven- 
 geance to the dregs. To her inquiries for the treasure, 
 the hero of Tronei, though fettered, and mortally 
 wounded, replies, " As long as one of my masters lives 
 I'll not tell thee where it is hidden." She at once has 
 the head of her brother Gunther cut off, and carries it 
 by the hair to Hagen. " Ha ! ha ! " he cries, "I thought 
 it would come to this. It's finished now just as you 
 willed it should. The king, and Gemot, and young 
 Giselher, they're dead and gone : all, all. None knows 
 where the treasure is but God and I alone. You, fiend, 
 shall never know." " Then all that's left me," exclaims 
 the queen, "is this my Sigfrid's sword." She draws it 
 from the scabbard, and Kriemhild, once so sweet and 
 lovely, once so true and loving, avenges Sigfrid's death 
 by plunging it into his murderer. 
 
 Up springs old Hildebrand, enraged that the queen 
 should so mercilessly slay those whom his lord has com- 
 mended to her mercy, and cuts her down. With a 
 piercing scream Kriemhild falls dead by the side of her 
 mortal foe. Thus sadly, — so concludes the poem, — the 
 king's high feast was ended, as sadness ever follows 
 after joy. 
 
 This tone of sorrow, with, which the great epic con- 
 cludes, is kept up in an artistic poem (kunst-gedicht), 
 which is called in consequence the Klage (lament). 
 
 None of the characters in this piece moves our, com- 
 passion more than the Queen Ute, the aged mother 
 and sole survivor of the Burgundian race. She was 
 
 E 5 
 
82 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 buried in the convent of Lorsch, heart-broken at her 
 loss. No new facts are given in this poem ; which is 
 a mere recapitulation by Swemlin and others, who are 
 despatched with the melancholy news to the surviving 
 relatives of the disasters above related. It is evident, 
 however, that the author of the Lament, who lived in 
 Austria, must have had access to some version of the 
 Nibelung strife, different from that which we possess, 
 and that he must have been entirely ignorant of the 
 first part of the present " Nibelungenlied." 
 
 This leads us to some general remarks on the origin 
 of this poem. Of course nobody will insist, in a com- 
 position of this kind, on historical accuracy of facts or 
 dates. The historic truth of an epic consists in a true 
 conception and delineation of life and manners. Set- 
 ting aside Sigfrid, however, in whose case inquiry is 
 almost entirely at fault, there are some points in the 
 poem which are historically true. Thus the three Bur- 
 gundian kings are a matter of history. The same may 
 be said of the destruction of a royal Burgundian race by 
 Attila. Attila himself, his brother Bleda (here Blode- 
 lin), and Dietrich, who was of the blood of the Ama- 
 lians, the royal race of the East Goths, are also historic 
 personages. The transactions in which they figured 
 must have taken place from 451 to about 500, but in 
 the poem they are compressed into a shorter space. 
 Attila, who died in the year 453, a.d., cannot have 
 been contemporary with Theodoric, whose reign com- 
 menced in 489. 
 
 StiH a sort of historical veracity is preserved through- 
 out in the main features of the story ; such as, for in- 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 83 
 
 stance, Attila's universal dominion, and the vast hordes 
 tinder his sway, — the bloody battle of the Huns at 
 Chalons, in the year 451, when blood was actually 
 drunk, — and lastly, Theodoric's rule, which, as being the 
 first German one on E.oman ground, would be gratify- 
 ing to the national pride. Upon the whole then, it 
 may be assumed that the portion of the poem referring 
 to Dietrich and Etzel could not have existed before 
 the second half of the sixth century^ 
 
 The Saga, of Sigfrid, therefore, which is mythic in 
 origin, would be, primarily, quite distinct from these 
 Sagas of Attila and Dietrich. It is true that, in the 
 older form of the Sigfrid's Saga, there is an Atli, and a 
 sister who revenges herself, though not on her brothers, 
 but on Attila for them; and it was not till the appearance 
 of the historic Attila, the Hun-king, that this older 
 mythic Atli became blended with the historical one. 
 Probably this amalgamation took place after the ninth 
 century, at the same time that the Sigfrid Saga' was 
 transformed from its mythic into its heroic shape- 
 It could not have been till somewhere in the latter 
 half of the twelfth century, perhaps about 1170, that 
 the various scattered ballads, embodying these distinct 
 Sagas, became combined into one. The " Nibelungen- 
 lied," in the oldest shape in which it now exists, was 
 committed to writing about the year 1210. 
 
 As for fixing upon any person as its author, in the 
 strict sense of the word, this is of course out of the 
 question. The idea that it was written by Henry of 
 Ofterdingen has long been given up as fabulous. What 
 happened to the poem in 1210 was confined to writing 
 
 E 6 
 
84 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 down the current popular ballads, and joining them to- 
 gether, with some slight embellishment. Twenty of 
 these separate balladsi, out of which conjoined the whole 
 poem sprung, were discerned by the late Professor 
 Lachmann, who clearly pointed out all the additions 
 made to the original text by the last arranger. With 
 few exceptions, these additions are made with much 
 skill, and were evidently the work of a genuine poet. 
 They chiefly consist of spurious descriptions, allusions 
 to costly artieJ.es of luxury, such as silken stuffs, and 
 also peculiar arrangements of the metre. 
 
 These twenty ballads have been since translated, in 
 a separate form, by Carl Simroek, by which additional 
 light is thrown on th<e subject, and the startling con- 
 trast between what is original and what has been foisted 
 into the poem becomes still more apparent. 
 
 Besides this edition of the original twenty poems on 
 which the " Nibelungenlied" is based, there is another by^ 
 Lassberg and another by Sch<)nhuth. In Lachmann's 
 edition the. oldest form of die poem is ^ven. Von der 
 Hagen'^s text is a mixture, and, therefore, not to be 
 depended on. 
 
 Simrock's translation into (modem) German is the 
 best, and next to it comes that of Pfizer. Hinsberg and 
 Rebenstock have made such alterations in the metre 
 that the poetical value of the original is lost to us ; but 
 even in Simrock's translation there is much that falls 
 far short of the original in freshness and power. 
 
 As may readily be imagined, during the fourteenth 
 and fifteenth centuries, when art-poetry was all the 
 fashion, this simple epic found fewer admirers than now. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 85 
 
 Still It could not have been so much neglected after all, 
 for no less than twenty manuscripts of it have been 
 discovered belonging to that period. In the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries, however, its very existence 
 was all but unknown. Wolfgang Lazius alone, an 
 Austrian writer of the sixteenth century, seems to have 
 been aware of it, as he made use of it in his history of 
 national migrations. 
 
 About the middle of the last century two manu- 
 scripts of it were discovered by Bodmer at the castle 
 of Hohenems, in the Orisons, who printed the second 
 part of the poem under the title of " Chriemhilden 
 Eache " (Chriemhild's Revenge). An edition of the 
 whole, under the name of " Nibelungenlied," was after- 
 wards produced by Miiller, the Swiss, who received in 
 consequence the following letter from Frederick the 
 Second, king of Prussia. " You have much too favour- 
 able an opinion of these things. To my mind they are 
 not worth a charge of powder, and I'll have no such 
 trash in my library." This epistle Is preserved in a glass 
 case at the library of Zurich, as an indication of what 
 the general opinion about the poem was in those days. 
 Johannes v. Miiller was the only man of the time who 
 esteemed the poem at its real worth. H. von der Hagen 
 has done much towards causing it to be duly appreciated. 
 
 "We shall now proceed to give a brief description of 
 the remaining poems. 
 
 Among the Sagas about Sigfrid is a piece called 
 Hurnin Sigfrid (horned Sigfrid), the language of 
 which is of the fifteenth century, and its metre of the 
 
86 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 tblrteentb, while the subject-matter Is derived from a 
 period much more remote.* 
 
 The account here of the youthful adventures of 
 Sigfrid agrees with that given by Hagen in the Nibe- 
 lungslied; with the following exceptions. Sigfrid 
 comes to a smith, who sends him into the forest for coal, 
 as he pretends, but In reality that he may be killed by 
 a dragon. Sigfrid, however, kills the monster, casts trees 
 on the top of him and sets them on fire. The horny 
 skin of the dragon melts with the heat, and with this 
 Sigfrid anoints hl&iself, and becomes invulnerable all 
 over, except at a point between the shoulders which he 
 could not reach. KriemhUd, the daughter of Gibich, 
 King of Burgundy, has been carried off by a dragon, 
 who, In the course of a year will be transformed into 
 his original human shape, and will then marry her. 
 
 This interweaving of the mythical is not to be found 
 in the " NIbelungenlied." Sigfrid, on this, starts as a 
 lone knight-errant to her rescue. In the depths of the 
 forest he hears her cries, but cannot discover the cave 
 within which she Is imprisoned, until at last he over- 
 takes a dwarf riding through the thicket on a black 
 
 * The poem of " Hiimin Sigfried " is known only from ancient printed 
 editions (Frankfort, about 1538; Nuremburg, about 1560, 1585), and 
 copied from them into Hagen and Primisser's "Heldenbuch." It is in 
 the so-called Nibelung-strophe, which fell into disuse in the fifteenth 
 century. 
 
 According to Knapp (vol. iv. of the "Archivfiir Hess. Geschichte," 
 1845), there is a legend current at Grassellenbach, in the Odenwald, to the 
 effect that there is near this village the identical fountain at which Sigfrid 
 was slain, called Sigfridsbrunnen. On the position of the Gnitaheide, see 
 Grimm, "Die Hcldensage," p. 41, and " Mone, Untersuchungen zur 
 Geschichte der deutschen Heldensage." p. 45, 1836. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 87 
 
 steedj with a spai'kling crown upon his head. From 
 him he learns that a giant, called Kuperan, guards 
 the entrance to the dragon's cave. This giant, he 
 at length discovers, armed — as the legendary giants 
 always were — with a pole of steel, four edged, and 
 sharp as a knife ; and on his head is a helmet blazing 
 like the sun. He at once springs upon the " tiny boy," 
 as he disdainfully calls Sigfrid ; but the latter is too 
 nimble for him, jumping backwards and forwards five 
 fathoms at a bound. The monster is eventually beaten, 
 and promises to guide Sigfrid to the dragon cave ; but 
 instead of this, he breaks his word, as all giants do, and 
 re-commences the attack, but with no better success 
 than before. He then brings Sigfrid to a steep spot, 
 where there is hardly footing for one man at the time, 
 and again assaults him. A struggle for life and death 
 ensues, till at last Sigfrid teai's open the giant's wounds 
 and hurls him don'n the precipice, so that he is dashed 
 to pieces amid the loud laughter of the maiden. The 
 fight with the dragon then begins, and so dreadful Is 
 the encounter, tliat the dwarves in the bowels of the 
 hill, fearful that it will fall and crush them, bring 
 King Nibelung's treasure out of their holes. In the 
 end, the dragon is hewn to pieces, the damsel is rescued 
 and marries her preserver, who becomes master of the 
 Nibelung-treasure. The dwarf Eugel, however, one 
 of its guardians, predicts that he will meet with an 
 early and violent end. The poem here passes into 
 the story of the " Nibelungenlied," the first part of 
 wliich, it would appear, went by the name of Higfrid's 
 viarriage. 
 
88 GEEMAir LITEEATUEE. 
 
 This very ancient notion of the transformation of men 
 into dragons, and back again into their original forms, is 
 an attempt to penetrate into the realms of darkness and 
 the secrets of the incorporeal world ; and in some respects 
 it is akin to the (Wehrwolf) superstition still existing 
 in Germany, that men are occasionlly changed into 
 wolves, and wolves into men. The legends about giants 
 are nothing but a reminiscence of sojne strange people, 
 who dwelt of old in the countries now occupied by a 
 later race ; answering in fact to the Cyclopes of Homer. 
 
 In spite of the mythical character of the Sagas about 
 Sigfrid, a local habitation has been marked out for 
 them. The spring where Hagen killed Sigfrid was 
 shown in the Odenwald as late as the sixteenth century. 
 In like manner, the place where Sigfrid slew the dragon 
 (Gnitaheide, in the Northern alect) was well known 
 till about the end of the twelfth century. This spot, 
 which may have been the scene of some historical inci- 
 dent, was between Stadtbergen and Mayence, if we 
 are to credit the veracious account of an Icelandic 
 traveller who lived at the above-mentioned period. 
 
 Of the poems, devoted exclusively to Dietrich of 
 Bern, the mention of two must suffice : Ecken Ausfart 
 (Ecke's expedition), and King Laurin. 
 
 The first of these is written in the Berner Ton, that 
 is, in strophes of thirteen lines each. The metre is brisk 
 and lively ; and the first two-thirds of the poem contain 
 fine poetic features. Parts of the tale savour of a very 
 remote antiquity. The plot is as follows: — Three 
 strong warriors in Heathen land, Easolt, his brother 
 Ecke (Egge), and the wild Ebenrot, sit in their haJl and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 89 
 
 talk of heroic deeds. " Sir Dietrich of Bern," who has 
 vanquished the giant Grime and his wife Hilte, is 
 pronounced to be the boldest of the bold. This excites 
 Ecke's martial ardour ; and, upon the requisition of one 
 of three queens, who overhear the conversation, he 
 undertakes to bring them Dietrich as a prisoner. Hav- 
 ing, by the aid of the queen, been equipped in the coat 
 of mail (Briinne) once worn by King Otnit, and after- 
 wards by Wolfdietrich ; also with shield and sword, he 
 sallies forth on foot, no horse being equal to his weight. 
 As he springs like a leopard through the bushes, his 
 helm hitting against the branches sounds like a bell, 
 terrifying the startled game. At length he arrives at 
 Bern, and as he goes through the streets, his golden 
 mail glistens, so that the people fly before the man 
 "who stands in the midst of fire." Learning from 
 Hildebrand that his master is in the Tyrol, he sets off 
 in pursuit, and finds on the road three men slain, and 
 another who has been wounded by the Bernese. By 
 this man's direction he follows the track of Dietrich, 
 and comes upon him towards evening. At first the 
 Bernese champion refuses to dismount; but, subse- 
 quently, on being taunted with cowardice, he does so, 
 and a furious fight begins by the light of the setting 
 sun. Night separates the combatants, and they keep 
 watch and sleep in turns. At dawn Ecke awakes his 
 adversary, in genuine giant fashion, by a kick of his 
 foot. The struggle is renewed; the voices of the 
 song-birds heralding the day are drowned in the din. 
 Dietrich is hard pressed by his opponent ; his helmet 
 Hildegrim smeared with blood ; his shield with the red 
 
90 GERMAN LITEEATtTEE. 
 
 lion hacked to pieces. He retires into the thicket, 
 which serves him as a shield. At this moment a little 
 dwarf whispers him from a tree overhead to put his 
 trust in God. Upon this he attacks Ecke with fresh 
 vigour, who fancies he has two fighting against him. 
 Ecke is overthrown ; but being set free again attacks 
 the magnanimous victor, who repents him that he has 
 spared his life. Hurled to the ground for the third time, 
 Ecke is summoned to yield, but only answers with scoffs. 
 And Dietrich at last pierces him with his sword through 
 the joints of his harness. But no sooner is this done than 
 he discovers, from a ring which Ecke wore, the name 
 of his antagonist, and bewails his death. In the death- 
 struggle Ecke springs from the ground and then falls 
 back dead. At first Dietrich scruples about taking the 
 coat of mail, which is unscathed, for fear people should 
 say that Ecke had been murdered. Subsequently, after 
 shortening it so as to fit him, he takes it, as well as 
 Ecke's helm, into which he fastens a carbuncle taken 
 from his own helmet. He then digs a grave eighteen 
 feet long, in which he places the corpse, with the words 
 " God be gracious to thee, my Ecke," and rides away. 
 
 This poem of the thirteenth century is still extant 
 in the shape in which it must have been sung by the 
 minstrels of that period. Long after this — even as late 
 as the beginning of the seventeenth century — it was 
 still a popular song.* 
 
 * A fragment of -what was most likely the oldest shape of the " Ecken- 
 lied," Docen Misc. ii. 194. See 244 strophes from a MS. of the thirteenth 
 or fourteenth century, edited by Joseph von Lasaberg (Meister Seppen 
 Ton Eppishusen), 1832; and by Schonhuth, the Klage, with Sigenot and 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD, 91 
 
 King Laurin, on the other hand, has not reached us 
 in the form of a popular song — at least of the thirteenth 
 century. The extant version of it is by Kaspar von der 
 Kon, a popular singer of the fifteenth century.* 
 
 The plot is as follows: — Laurin, King of the Dwarves, 
 has a beautiful rose-garden in the Tyrol, which is 
 fenced in by a silken-thread instead of a wall. Who- 
 ever broke this thread had his hand and foot lopped off. 
 Many a one had suffered this penalty, when Dietrich 
 of Bern and "VVittich started off to put down the nui- 
 sance. Dietlieb of Styria, whose sister Similde had 
 been carried off by Laurin, and who is in the compul- 
 sory service of the ravisher, has to fight with the 
 adventurers. Peace is brought about by the interven- 
 tion of Hildebrand. But the treacherous Laurin 
 inveigles the strangers into a hollow mountain, sends 
 them to sleep by a magic potion, and then throws them 
 into a dungeon. Dietrich awakes, and, in his rage on 
 discovering where he is, breathes flames from his mouth, 
 and burns his bonds asunder. He performs a similar 
 service for his fellow-prisoners. A long fight ensues, 
 Laurin being protected by a magic ring, but at last he 
 is taken captive. This time Dietlieb is against the 
 Dwarves, and in the end liberates his sister. Laurin is 
 taken to Bern (Verona), where, according to one story, 
 he gets his living as a conjurer; according to another, 
 
 Eggenlied, 1839. An old edition of 1491 (repeated often till 1577) has 
 284 strophes. The text in v. d. Hagen's " Heldenbuch," 1820, is after Kas^ 
 par T. d. Koen's version, with arbitrary additions from the old edition. 
 
 * Possibly there was a version of Laurin as early as the twelfth cen- 
 tury. Ettmuller's edition, "Kunech Luarin," 1829, is after a version of 
 the fourteenth or fifteenth century, but it is deficient in criticism. 
 
92 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. » 
 
 he receives Christian baptism. From this Saga Fouqu^ 
 took the best parts of his " Magic Ring," which, with 
 " Thlodolfs Farten," is the only German romance of 
 chivalry (Ritterroman) deserving the name. 
 
 The above two poems, as also those of the " Giant 
 Sigenot," "Dietrich's Fight with the Dragon," and 
 "Dietrich's Flight to the Huns," — all refer to a 
 period anterior to his contest with the Burgundians. 
 The legend of Dietrich is, in fact, as follows : — Driven 
 from his kingdom by his uncle Ermanrich, he flies to 
 the court of King Etze.l, by whose aid he conquers his 
 uncle at the battle of Raben (the historic battle of 
 Ravenna between Dietrich and Odoacer, in the year 
 493). After this he stops twelve years longer at Etzel's, 
 returning home, subsequently to the fight with the Bur- 
 gundians, after thirty years' absence. The mythical 
 stories, which primarily were told of Sigfrid, were by 
 degrees transferred to the originally historic personage 
 Dietrich. This is true of the fire-breathing anecdote, 
 which is to be found in many other poems besides 
 " Laurin." Even Dietrich's sudden death in 526 A.D.- 
 received a mythic colouring. Thus he is feigned to have 
 been carried off by spirits nobody knows whither ; or he 
 is living in a wilderness, where he will fight with dragons 
 till doomsday. A hero such as Dietrich could never 
 perish out of the memories of the people, any more than 
 Barbarossa, who, though likewise a veritable historic 
 personage, is invested with the same supernatural 
 character. 
 
 In the Rdbensclilacht (Battle of Ravenna) Dietrich 
 is in connexion with Etzel, but not with the Burgun- 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 93 
 
 dians. This poem, which at the bottom is good and 
 ancient, is written in strophes of six lines each. In its 
 present shape, however, it dates from the fourteenth 
 century, a period when popular poetry began to decline. 
 The sons of Etzel, Scharf and Ort, have, contrary to 
 the will of their mother Helche, gone with Dietrich to 
 Ravenna, to assist him against Ermanrlch. Dietrich, 
 who has promised their mother to be responsible for 
 their safety, leaves them, together with his own brother 
 Diether, under the care of Ilsan. Eager, however, 
 to join in the fray, they ask and obtain permission 
 to ride towards the city. As ill luck would have it, 
 they come across Ermanrich's follower, the terrible 
 Wittich, who rushes upon them with his sword Mimung. 
 For a whole day they fight, and at last one brother is 
 slain ; when the old warrior advises the other stripling 
 to retire, as he would be loth to slay him also. The lad, 
 however, bent on avenging his brother's death, refuses 
 the offer, and in spite of his spirited resistance meets 
 with his death-wound. A similar fate overtakes Die- 
 ther, Dietrich's brother. Dietrich, on hearing of the 
 sad fall of the Hun princes, advances on Wittich, who, 
 not waiting for his furious foe, springs into the sea, and 
 is received by Wdchilt, a mermaid. Hereupon follows 
 a touching lament by Queen Helche on seeing her sons' 
 horses return with their saddles empty, and hearing 
 from Biidiger, after a long silence, " Yonder they lie 
 upon the Raben heath ! " She curses Dietrich for not 
 protecting her sons according to his pledge, but forgives 
 him afterwards on seeing how afflicted he is at their 
 loss. 
 
94 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 In the " Rabenschlacht," as we have it at present, 
 several unimportant personages are introduced ; some 
 also, who must have been unknown to the original Saga,. 
 It is evident that it is meant to be an imitation of the 
 '" Nibelungenlied;" the opening words in both are the 
 same; but the effect of the poem is only marred in 
 consequence. Nothing can be more awkward than the 
 introduction of Sigfrid, who has nothing whatever to 
 do with the story.* 
 
 The Rosengarten zu Worms, the last poem belonging 
 to these sets of Sagas that we shall mention, is another 
 still more curious instance of jumbling Sagas together. 
 At the time when epic invention was on the decline, 
 somebody conceived the humorous idea of making 
 Sigfrid and Dietrich, — who in the original Sagas never 
 do or can meet, — come into hostile collision with each 
 other. The poem before us was the result of this bright 
 idea. The story is on this wise. Kriemhild holds court 
 at Worms, where she has a beautiful rose garden (the 
 name Rosengarten is still to be met with at Worms), full 
 of magic wonders. This garden is under the wardership 
 of Sigfrid and other Burgundians, whose task it is to keep 
 off all intruders. In case, however, of their being over- 
 come, KJriemhild's father, Gibich, — such was his name 
 
 * The poem on the battle of Eavenna is printed in the second volume 
 of the " Heldenhuch," by Hagen and Primisser, and repeated in the first 
 volume of Hagen's " Heldenhuch" of 1855. Both editions are uncritical. 
 EttmiiUer has made a bold and not infelicitous attempt to separate the 
 story of the death of the sons of Etzel and Hclchen from the " Kaben- 
 schlacht," and make it an independent epic. The six- lined strophe he has 
 here converted into one of four lines, " Daz raaere von vroun Helchen 
 siinen. Aus der Eavennaschlacht ansgehoben von L. Ettmiiller. 
 Ziirich, 1846. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 95 
 
 in the oldest and most genuine traditions, — promises to 
 hold his kingdom under the suzerainty of the victor, 
 "vs'ho is also to be rewarded with a wreath of roses and 
 a kiss from Kriemhild. Hereupon Dietrich of Bern, 
 urged by Hildebrand, undertakes the adventure and 
 conquers Sigfrid. The contests are described with 
 animation, and quite in the old popular tone. The cha- 
 racters of the traditional personages, Hagen, Hildebrand, 
 and Dietrich, are well kept up, only that Kriemhild is 
 from the very first a domineering and almost barbarous 
 kind of person. Ilsan, however, Hildebrand's brother, is 
 the chief figure of the piece. It is drawn with evident 
 zest, and is eminently characteristic of the popular taste 
 of the time. He has been twenty years a monk, and is 
 grown old and grey ; but as there is a difficulty in procur- 
 ing a twelfth warrior to go upon the expedition to Worms, 
 he is sent for from the monastery to join it. Heavy knocks 
 are heard at the door of the building, and Ilsan, from in- 
 side, vows vengeance upon the intruder. A monk, who 
 looks out, reports that.it is an old man with three wolves 
 on his shield, and a golden serpent on his helmet. 
 " That must be my brother Hildebrand," says Ilsan. 
 " And at his side there is a youth on horseback, of 
 warlike mien, and bearing on his shield the device of 
 a grim lion." " That is Sir Dietrich," cries Ilsan ; 
 and the gate is at once thrown open. " Benedicite, 
 brother," is Hildebrand's salutation to the monk, who 
 only imprecates a curse on him for being everlastingly- 
 engaged in war ; but upon learning that he too is in- 
 vited to go on a fighting expedition, the martial pro- 
 pensities of the greybearded friar awake within him. 
 
96 GERMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 He flings away his cowl and cloak, disclosing to view 
 the dress of a man-at-arms which he had always worn 
 beneath it. " A capital pastoral staff that," remarks 
 Dietrich, pointing to his sword. Ilsan, having ob- 
 tained the abbot's permission, sets off at once, pursued 
 witli all sorts of imprecations by a tribe of reverend 
 brothers, whom he used to pull about by the ears and 
 beard for not obeying his orders. No sooner does he 
 arrive at Worms than he gives the rein to his real 
 nature, rolling in the flower beds, fisticufling whoever 
 comes in his way, fighting in a most unclerical manner ; 
 and on receiving the kiss from Kriemhild after the vie- 
 tory,rubbing the skin off her cheeks with his rough beard. 
 The monks who cursed him are not forgotten. On his 
 return he brushes their heads with his rose-chaplet till the 
 thorns draw blood ; and, on their declining to help him 
 to confess his sins, he ties them together by their beards 
 and hangs them up across a pole. The above is a picture 
 of the rude but popular order of Mendicant Friars, as 
 contrasted with the genteeler order of Benedictines. 
 For centuries, Ilsan the monk was a favourite character 
 among the masses in Germany. The carvers in wood 
 of the fifteenth century had a special liking for him, 
 and his name continued to be proverbial deep into the 
 time of the Reformation. 
 
 The monk in " Eabelais," and in Fischart's " Gargan- 
 tua," are, in their best features, copies of the Monk Ilsan. 
 The poem under consideration was the last creation of 
 the Epic Muse. Composed before 1295, it soon got 
 spread about far and wide in a variety of versions, and 
 maintained its popularity till the old ballads and sagas 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 97 
 
 had been entirely forgotten. It was not till late in the 
 seventeenth century that its memory became extinct.* 
 
 Of the North Sea Sagas, the poem of " Gudrun " is 
 the only one with which we are acquainted. It was 
 discovered about forty years ago. 
 
 The sea, with its waves, its storms, its ships, and its 
 vikings, is here laid open to our view. 
 
 Unlike the " Nibelungenlied," where woman is pour- 
 trayed in all her most transcendent charms, but after- 
 wards becomes all that is fearful and horrible, the 
 character of the heroine Gudrun is exalted and gentle 
 throughout. In short, all the characters, from first to 
 last, are sustained with a truth and fidelity not to be 
 surpassed. 
 
 We have here the legendary history of three gene- 
 rations; — first, of Hagen, king of Ireland, and his 
 youthful adventures ; next of his daughter Hilde, who 
 was wooed by Hettel, the Frisian king ; and, lastly, of 
 Gudrun, the daughter of Hettel and Hilde. 
 
 To begin with the second part, the wooing of Hilde 
 by Hettel. Horant and his followers, Frute and Wate, 
 have arrived as King Hettel's ambassadors at the Irish 
 court. The gigantic Wate soon manages to place 
 himself on the very best terms with the court ladies, 
 who archly inquire which he prefers, the danger of the 
 
 * The " Eosengarten " has been handed down in four different forms. 
 The first is the basis of the version in the " Heldenbuch." The second, 
 now lost, of Kaspar Ton der Eoen's version (see a subsequent note). A 
 third has been edited, with an excellent preface, by W. Grimm, "Der 
 Eosengarten," 1836. The fourth, of which there are two MSS. extant, but 
 which vary from each other, is in Hagen and Primisser's " Heldenbuch," 
 vol. ii. 
 
 F 
 
98 GERMAN LITEEATTJKE. 
 
 battle-field or their society ? The giant, who in fight 
 was as impetuous as the wild boar, answers without 
 reflection, that he is fond of lady's bower, but fonder 
 still of the battle-field. The court ladies laugh loudly 
 at this reply, and inquire whether he has a wife and 
 children at home. Meanwhile, in the stillness of the 
 evening, the sea-washed palace resounds with Horant's 
 wondrous music. Ravished by the tones of the royal 
 singer, the very birds break off their evening song. 
 Next morning, when he resumes his lay, they again 
 become mute; all the sleepers in the palace are 
 awakened; the king and queen come out upon the 
 battlements ; and their daughter says, " Dearest father 
 mine, oh ! make him sing once more." 
 
 At eventide the Danish king lifts up his voice for 
 the third time, which rings more sweetly than ever the 
 bells were known to ring. The workmen forget their 
 tasks ; the sick believe they are well again ; the beasts 
 of the forest cease to feed ; the insects in the grass and 
 the fishes in the wave intermit their restless motion. 
 And the singer wins the maiden he had been sent to 
 woo. She goes with him over the sea, and becomes 
 King Hettel's bride. 
 
 Their children are Ortwin and Gudrun. Hartmut, 
 a son of the Norman king, sues for the hand of the 
 latter; but an ancient feud between the two families 
 proves fatal to his wishes. Another lover appears in 
 the person of Herwig, king of Seeland, and wins the 
 hand of Gudrun with his sword. Shortly after their 
 betrothal, he sets off with her father for a distant land. 
 During their absence, the rejected suitor, Hartmut, and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 99 
 
 his father, King Ludwig, surprise the castle and carry- 
 off Gudrun. The robbers are pursued by Hettel, 
 Herwig, and "Wate, who come up with them on an 
 island in the North Sea, Wulpensand, or Wulpenwerd. 
 Here a bloody battle is fought, renowned through 
 Germany in many an ancient ditty. As avalanche 
 upon avalanche is borne down the mountains after a 
 storm, so the spears fly in quick succession. The com- 
 batants, who stand up to their armpits in the sea, dye 
 the water with their blood all around, as far as one 
 might cast a javelin. As evening approaches, Gudrun's 
 father is slain by the Norman king. The sun has 
 already set, but Wate in his rage and fury, makes it 
 daylight again with the sparks he strikes from the 
 helmets of the foe. But the increasing darkness render- 
 ing it hard to distinguish friend from foe, the com- 
 batants separate. In the night, however, the Normans 
 make off with their booty, threatening Gudrun and her 
 maiden with instant death in the waves if they raise 
 a cry for succour. 
 
 The Frisians have been so weakened in the struggle 
 that pursuit is out of the question, and Wate is com- 
 pelled to return in silence to the castle which he had 
 so often entered with shouts of triumph. To the 
 inquiry of the agonized Queen HUde, " Where is my 
 lord, oh! where my friends?" he answers briefly, 
 " I'll not deceive thee, they are slaughtered all :" 
 " when the new race has come to man's estate, we'll 
 have revenge." 
 
 Amid sighs and tears the Norman coast is descried 
 by Gudrun, with the castles on the shore. The old 
 
 F 2 
 
100 GEBMAN LITEKATUKE. 
 
 king addresses her kindly, and tells her that all she sees 
 is hers if she will marry Hartmut. She would rather 
 die, she replies, than marry him and break her plighted 
 troth. In a paroxysm of rage the wild Norman chief 
 seizes her by the hair and casts her overboard into the 
 sea. Hartmut jumps after her. He is just in time to 
 seize her by her yellow tresses, and drags her into the 
 ship. Hartmut's mother, Gerlinde, at first receives 
 Gudrun with kindness, but finding her inexorable, pro- 
 ceeds to maltreatment; and she who was born to a 
 crown is forced to perform the most menial oflSces, such 
 as lighting the fires and washing the linen on the sea- 
 shore. Nevertheless, she continues patient and true, 
 and submits to every humiliation. 
 
 At last, after many a long year, the time is come 
 when a new generation is old enough to undertake her 
 liberation. After a dangerous voyage the Frisian war- 
 riors arrive at an island, from the lofty trees of which 
 they can discern the distant Norman towers. Gudrun, 
 as was her daily wont, repairs to the shore to wash 
 linen, when an angel in the shape of a bird — (a swan- 
 maiden who can foretell the future, such as appear in the 
 " Nibelungenlied ") — comes to comfort her. Kegardless 
 of herself, Gudrun's first words are, " Does Hilde live, 
 mother of poor Gudrun ? My brother Ortwin ; Herwig, 
 my betrothed, are they alive ; Horant and Wate too ?" 
 
 On returning home she is scolded by Gerlinde for 
 Idleness ; and very early next morning, although it was 
 before Easter, and fresh snow had fallen In the night, she 
 is sent out barefoot to the shore to finish her washing. 
 This very morning Ortwin and Herwig, who had gone 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 101 
 
 out to gain intelligence, arrive in a boat at the spot 
 where poor Gudrun is shivering in the frost, her beauti- 
 ful hair streaming over her shoulders in the wintry- 
 blast. The two warriors approach the maiden, and bid 
 her " Good morrow," a mode of greeting which is very- 
 scarce with her mistress Gerlinde. In spite of her 
 mean dress and humiliating task, they at once recognize 
 Gudrun. She tells them that the country is strongly 
 guarded, and all the talk is about Frisians (Hegelings), 
 who, it is feared, will make a descent upon the coast. 
 It being bitterly cold, the knights beg the maiden to 
 accept their cloaks as a shelter, but Gudrun replies, 
 " Heaven forfend that I should dress in man's attire." 
 Her brother Ortwin next asks whether a maiden named 
 Gudrun was not once stolen and brought to this place. 
 While Herwig is busily engaged in comparing the 
 features of the serving girl with those of the noble 
 princess to whom he was once betrothed, he even calls 
 Ortwin by name. " Alas ! " says Gudrun, " were 
 Ortwin and Herwig still alive, they would have come 
 long; ago to rescue us. I am one of the stolen maidens, 
 but Gudrun, she's long since dead." Upon this the 
 king of Seeland stretches out his hand, and says, " In 
 that case thou wilt know this ring which I wear upon 
 my finger. I am Herwig, and with this ring was 
 Gudrun betrothed to me." The maiden's eyes light up 
 with sudden joy, and though she would fain hide her 
 menial condition, she is overcome, and says, " I know 
 the gold full well, for once 'twas mine. And, see, here 
 is the ring that Herwig sent to me." Still, it is diffi- 
 cult to convince her brother and her lover that she is not 
 
 p 3 
 
102 GEEMAUr LITEEATUSE. 
 
 married to Hartmut, and they express their horror that, 
 in spite of her being his wife, she was condemned to such 
 a degrading occupation. On learning the true reason of 
 it — her love for him — Herwig wants to carry her oif at 
 once. But " 'No," says Ortwin, with the genuine 
 straightforwardness of the day, "no; what we lost in 
 fair fight we'll not regain by stealth. Rather than that, 
 I'd let a hundred sisters die." 
 
 The two princes return to the fleet and raise loud 
 lamentations at the long humiliation of Gudrun. Old 
 Wate bids them dye the garments red which she had 
 washed white. Yes, that very night. The air is clear, 
 the heaven bright with moonshine. So prepare at once 
 to attack the castle. Gudrun, in whom her native pride 
 has been awakened, throws the linen into the sea. For 
 this she is beaten by Gerlinde. To escape further 
 maltreatment, Grudrun pretends that she will marry 
 Hartmut. The morning star is still high in heaven, 
 when one of Gudrun's fellow-maidens looks out of the 
 window and sees the blaze of approaching shields and 
 helmets. The warder also, on the battlements, soon 
 espies the enemy, and cries, " To arms ! to arms ! ye 
 Norman warriors ; ye've slept too long — to arms ! " 
 
 The fight begins. Ludwig, the Norman king, falls, 
 fighting bravely, by the hand of Herwig. To avenge 
 his loss the cruel Gerlinde orders Gudrun to be put to 
 death; but her infamous design is frustrated by the 
 noble-minded Hartmut in the very moment of its execu- 
 tion. Hartmut is taken prisoner, and Wate, rushing 
 into the female apartments, decapitates the queen, in 
 spite of Gudrun's efforts to save her ; and with her one 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 103 
 
 of Gudrun's own domestics, who, to curry favour with 
 Gerlinde, had tortured her gentle mistress. 
 
 Hereupon the invaders return home. A recon- 
 ciliation takes place, followed by a three-fold marriage, 
 viz., between Herwig and Gudrun, Hartmut and 
 HUdburg, a companion of Gudrun's, and between 
 Gudrun's brother Ortwin and Ortrun, the daughter of 
 the Norman king; the only one in the land of the 
 stranger who had pitied Gudrun, and sought to lighten 
 her load of misery. 
 
 A modern author would probably have made 
 Hartmut die a hero's death, like his father, as he could 
 not obtain the lady of his choice; but the author of 
 Gudrun has another and a nobler object in view. The 
 two races are to be reconciled, and the ancient feud is 
 henceforward to be succeeded by peace and goodwill ; 
 and with this consummation the epic grandly concludes. 
 
 To the Emperor Maximilian I. we are indebted for 
 the preservation of this poem. He caused it, with 
 several others (e. g., the " Nibelungenlied," " Iwein," 
 and "Erec," &c.), to be transcribed, about the year 
 1517, in one large volume, and placed in the Ambras 
 Library in the Tyrol. Just 300 years after his death 
 it was again brought to light.* The piece has been 
 
 * The first edition of " Gudrun" appeared in vol. 1. of Hagen's " Helden- 
 buch," 1820. This same text -was put into pure Middle-High-German, but 
 ■with arbitrary arrangement of the metre, by Ziemann, 1835. Vollmar's 
 edition, 1845, is better, but the preface by Schott is of little value. Two 
 attempts have been made lately to treat the poem of Gudrun like the 
 " Nibelungenlied," and separate the genuine parts, which rest upon old 
 Volksage,from later additions. EttmiillerC Gudrun lieder," 1841)divides 
 the whole into three epics, " Hagene," " Hagene und Hettel," and " Gudrun." 
 Of the 1,705 strophes of the original text, 951 are rejected as not genuine. 
 
 r^4 
 
lO* GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 modernized by Schulz, under the pseudonym of " San 
 Marte," but his lyrics have quite destroyed its epic 
 character. Gervinus's version has never been com- 
 pleted. That by Keller is in the original metre, which 
 is the same as that of the " Nibelungenlied." It is 
 a work of merit, quite equal, in short, to Simrock's 
 version of the " Nibelungen," but it falls short of the 
 original in freshness and delicacy. 
 
 A cursory glance will now be bestowed upon the 
 sixth, or Lombardic, set of Sagas. It comprehends 
 three poems, " Konig Eother," " Konig Otnit," and 
 " Hug- and Wolf-dietrich." The first of these dates 
 from about the year 1170. 
 
 King Rother reigns at Bare (Bari in Apulia, one of 
 the most favourite places in the middle ages of embark- 
 ing for the Holy Land). Being desirous of marrying 
 " a well-born wife," he sends twelve retainers to Con- 
 stantinople to sue for the daughter of the Emperor 
 Constantine. Eother himself goes in disguise to Con- 
 stantinople and carries off the princess. But by the 
 artifice of a musician, who is dispatched for this pur- 
 pose by Constantine, she is recovered. Upon this 
 Rother sails to Constantinople with an immense host, 
 and compels Constantine to restore the lady. 
 
 The second attempt -was that of Prof. Miillenhof, of Kiel, " Kudrun die 
 echten theile des gedichtes mit einer Kritischen einleitung," 1845. Here 
 the preamble, by Hagen, is omitted. The story of "Hetel and Hagen" 
 is divided into seven small parts, and that of " Gudrun " into eighteen. 
 In this recension only 415 strophes of the traditional text are retained. 
 
 A good translation of " Gudrun" was also published by Karl Simrock in 
 1843. The text of Miillenhof has been rendered into modem German 
 by Both. 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 105 
 
 The narrative is artificial ; but there are several 
 features indicative of freshness and power, e. g., the 
 reciprocal constancy of the king and his retainers to 
 each other. The giant band that accompanies Eother to 
 Constantinople is described with much life. One of these 
 monsters in a passion stamps his foot knee deep into the 
 earth, dashes a lion against a wall, and strikes fire by 
 rubbing a pair of millstones together. All this, how- 
 ever, looks very much like an obscure reference to the 
 Crusades, and the panic of the Emperor Alexius I., 
 the father of Anna Commena, on the arrival of the 
 western hosts.* 
 
 " Otnit," which is composed in the popular Nibelung 
 measure, can hardly be older than the year 1250. 
 King Otnit's voyage to woo a heathen princess, with 
 which the poem commences, is exceedingly animated 
 and life-like. After a severe contest Otnit wins the 
 maiden, takes her home, and causes her to be baptized 
 by the name of Sidrat. They then reign happily 
 together for many years at home at Garda. 
 
 "Hug- and Wolf-dietrich" begins in a similar manner. 
 Hug-dietrich vroos a king's daughter in disguise, and 
 wins her. His son "Wolf-dietrich, as being the offspring 
 of a clandestine marriage, is deprived of his inheritance 
 by his brothers. In the war which he wages with them 
 
 * The poem of " King Eother" appears to be derived from some old 
 popular poet. It continually refers to another older source, sometimes 
 called " Lied" (lay, song), sometimes " Buch." The mention in it of a 
 Duke of Meran would indicate that the poem was composed after 1181. 
 It was first printed in Hagen and Biisching's "Gedichte des Mittel- 
 alters," 1 vol., 1811, hut incorrectly; it is given much more correctly 
 and completely in Massmann's " Gedichte des 12. Jahrhunderts," ii. 162. 
 
 p 5 
 
106 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 in consequence, five of his retainers are killed and the 
 rest taken prisoners. His faithful affection for these 
 retainers is, as it were, the pivot of the poem. " God 
 preserve my men " is his constant thought ; his own 
 safety is never considered. And so he marches out into 
 the wide world, and has all sorts of adventures in their 
 behalf with pagans, giants, and dragons. The artificial 
 complications of the plot, for no distinct purpose, are 
 essentially un-German, and would indicate that the 
 saga, originally, could not have appeared in its present 
 shape. In his wanderings, Wolf-dietrich stumbles on 
 Otnit, whom he vanquishes. By the intervention of 
 Otnit's wife they both become friends again, and Otnit 
 starts with Wolf-dietrich in quest of the captives. Sub- 
 sequently, Wolf-dietrich starts alone on a pilgrimage to 
 Jerusalem. Meanwhile Nachaol, the pagan father- 
 in-law of Otnit, sends two young dragons to Otnit, one 
 of which in due time devours him. The fidelity of 
 Otnit's dog and horse is described with touching sim- 
 plicity. Wolf-dietrich eventually returns, takes ven- 
 geance on the dragon, and becomes possessed of Otnit's 
 famous coat of mail (Brlinne), and also of his widow, 
 Sidrat; which done, he renews the contest with his 
 brothers, is victorious, and liberates his men. Finally, 
 he resigns his empire to his son, Hugdietrich, and retires 
 into a monastery, where he dies in a nocturnal conflict 
 with ghosts.* 
 
 * Originally the story of King Otnit (more correctly Ortnit) -was 
 quite independent of the history of Wolf-dietrich ; which, however, must 
 have got amalgamated with a very early version of it. In this older 
 shape, in which Otnit's death is recorded directly after the story of his 
 marriage, it was edited by Ettmuller, "Kiinec Otnides mervart unde tod," 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 107 
 
 These sagas, with all their merits, are not to be 
 compared with the "Nibelungenlied" and "Gudrun;" 
 and yet they, together with the "Eosengarten" and 
 " Laurin," were of all others those most extensively 
 known, even at a period when the rest of the Old German 
 poetry had sunk into oblivion. In fact, they form the 
 " Heldenbuch," to be mentioned below. 
 
 It is perhaps needless to state that the authors of the 
 various poems which have been adduced are entirely 
 imknown. By some the poems of " King Otnit " and 
 " Wolf-dietrich " have been ascribed to Wolfram von 
 Eschenbach; and " Rosengarten " and "Laurin" to 
 Heinrich von Ofterdingen — an assumption requiring 
 no confutation. 
 
 "We now pass to the Art-Epics, the tales of the court 
 poets, which, though inferior to the great national epics 
 in simplicity and grandeur, are often conspicuous for 
 noble ideas and beauty of diction. The first group is 
 devoted to the French Sagas of Charlemagne. Of these 
 our attention will be confined to the " Rolandslied," and 
 " Wilhelm von Oranse." The second group comprehends 
 the saga of " Der Heilige Gral " (connected with that of 
 
 1838, and in 1855 by Von der Hagen, in his (new) "Heldenbuch." In 
 the other shape it was edited by Mone, 1821. 
 
 " Hug-und Wolf-dietrich " has never yet been printed complete in its 
 older form (the Niebelung strophe), but partly in Oechsle's "Hugdie- 
 triohs Brautfart und Hochzeit," 1834; then (from the Vienna MS.) in 
 " Haupts Zeitschrift f iir deutsches alterthum," iv. 401-462 (536 strophes). 
 Here, however, the story of Otnit is mixed up with that of Wolf-die- 
 trioh. Wolf-dietrich, without Hugdietrich and without Otnit, is published 
 by Hagen in his (new) "Heldenbuch," 1855, 2 vols. Here is aUo 
 " Alphart's Tod." 
 
 r 6 
 
108 GERMAN LITEKATUEE. 
 
 Artus) ; the " Parcival " by Wolfram von Eschenbach, 
 " Titurel " and " Lohengrin." In the third group we have 
 the Celtic tradition of King Artus and the knights of 
 his round table ; " Tristan and Isolt," by Gottfried of 
 Strasburg ; " Erec and Iwein," by Hartman von der 
 Aue ; " Wigalois," by "Wernt of Grafenberg, with a 
 mass of other poems. The fourth group consists of 
 elalsorations of antique poems and sagas ; such, for in- 
 stance, as the story of the Trojan war, which appeared 
 in a multiplicity of shapes ; that of " JEneas," after 
 Virgil, by Heinrich von Veldekin, the father of Middle- 
 High-German poetry ; and of " Alexander the Great." 
 In the fifth group we have the legends of saints ; then 
 the chronicles and historic poems; and, lastly, the 
 smaller tales. 
 
 The first three groups, viz., the " Legend of Charle- 
 magne," of the " Gral," and "King Artus," are generally 
 classed under the head of Romantic poetry, although, 
 strictly speaking, this appellation belongs only to the 
 " Charlemagne." 
 
 The word Eomantic is in fact nothing else but the 
 word Romanic. It was the name of the language 
 spoken by the Italians, French, and Spaniards, and 
 which, at the beginning of the middle ages, was formed 
 out of the lingua Romana. Romant was the name given 
 by the older French to poems in the popular tongue, 
 lingua Romana, as opposed to the classic Latin. It was 
 not till the sixteenth century that one of these poems 
 was transplanted under its own name into Germany, 
 This was the fantastic story of " Amadis," which became 
 a Kreat favourite with the Germans. From that time 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 109 
 
 forward the term Romantic was applied to eveiything 
 that was fantastic and adventurous, and Romance to tales 
 in prose full of marvellous occurrences. It is in this sense 
 that Wieland says, in reference to his " Oberon " : — 
 
 " Saddle the Hippogriffs, ye Muses nine, 
 And straight we'll ride to land of old Romance." 
 
 Hence arose the strange mistake of classing the old 
 German popular poetry under the term Eomantic — an 
 error which has of late been rectified; so that now 
 nothing is understood under the term Romantic poetry 
 but what can be proved to have been derived from the 
 Romanic (or Romance) peoples. 
 
 The Sagas about Charlemagne are, in German, almost 
 exclusively represented by the " Rolandslied," or song 
 of Roland. This legend, which, though originally a 
 creation of German fancy, first took root on French 
 soil, found its way into all the countries of Europe, 
 Besides the German, there is likewise a Latin, an Italian, 
 an English, and an Icelandic version of it. The memory 
 of Roland is still preserved in the Pyrenees in obscure 
 local traditions ; in the names of mountains, rocks, and 
 flowers; while the (so-called) statues of Roland at 
 Bremen, and elsewhere) recall his name, although these 
 pillars were originally intended as mementos of Charle- 
 magne's jurisdiction. The legend of Roland took its rise 
 from an historical event of no great importance, which 
 happened in the years 777 and 778. And here we have 
 a good example of the relation in which saga poetry 
 stands to history. While the historical transaction on 
 which the legend is ba,sed is either lost sight of, or so 
 
110 GEEMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 altered as to be almost unrecognisable ; the spirit of the 
 age— the ideal, so to speak, cf the century — when the 
 event took place, is caught and reflected with a truth 
 and precision which history has never reached to. 
 Whether such a person as Roland ever existed may 
 well be doubted. According to Eginhard, an embassy 
 was, in the year 777, sent by the Stadholder of Cassaris 
 Augusta (Saragossa) to Paderborn, to supplicate the 
 aid of Charlemagne against the Emir Abderrahman. 
 In the following year the Emperor went to Spain, but 
 soon after the conquest of Saragossa was recalled home 
 by an outbreak of the Saxons. While marching through 
 the Pyrenees he was attacked by the mountaineers and 
 suffered considerable loss, on which occasion, as many 
 MSS. add, Hruodlandus was slain. From this trivial 
 incident, then, arose the Saga of " Roland/' 
 
 Charlemagne is represented as the mighty champion 
 of Christendom ; his contest with the Moors is the con- 
 test of Christianity against heathenism ; his victory is 
 the victory of the believer over the infidel ; and thus 
 the death of Roland at Ronceval is an image of the 
 company of saints, who may suffer for a while, but are 
 in the end eternally triumphant. The national colour- 
 ing in which the heroes of the " Nibelungenlied " are 
 depicted here almost entirely disappear. Instead of 
 being German warriors, the warriors of the poem rather 
 remind us of Joshua, of Gideon, and Barak. They are 
 one and all " Champions of the true faith, instruments 
 in God's hand; and bound to die as martyrs in his 
 cause." It is not their sovereign and the reigning 
 dynasty for which they fight ; it is not honour and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. Ill 
 
 renown that they seek ; nor yet vengeance on the foe ; 
 their end and aim is Heaven. 
 
 These ideas, which had been current in France for 
 a hundred years, — in short, ever since Carl Martel's 
 victory over the infidels at Tours, — now attached them- 
 selves to Charlemagne. In him, as the temporal head 
 of western Christendom, was embodied the figure of 
 France victorious over the heathen ; and thus the 
 exploits of his predecessors became, as it were, trans- 
 ferred to him. 
 
 In Kerlingen — the name by which the country of 
 the Western Franks was known in Germany from the 
 tenth to the fourteenth century — these legends about 
 the great deeds of the King of the Franks must have 
 first taken root. Subsequently, in the time of the 
 Crusades, when Christian heroism came out in a new 
 phase, these legends were shaped into song. About 
 the year 1095 these songs were set down in a Latin 
 chronicle, which went by the name of " Turpin." After- 
 wards they appeared in French versions ; from one of 
 which the German poem originated. 
 
 Properly speaking, then, these descriptions of the 
 Christian heroism, not of France, but of Germany, 
 were not originally a poem but a story ; albeit a story 
 of grand and noble features. 
 
 The rapid action of the " Mbelungenlied " and 
 " Gudrun" is wanting. Art is everywhere apparent : for 
 instance, in the long-winded speeches, in the repetitions, 
 in the chronicles of battles — told more in the spirit of 
 an historian than of a poet — and lastly, in the frequent 
 descriptions of the warlike dress and warlike pomp of 
 
112 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 the South : all which features are quite foreign to the 
 
 German epic in its original purity. The piece, as we 
 
 now have it, is the work of Konrad, the priest, who, at 
 
 the instance of Duke Henry, the Lion, translated it 
 
 from a French original, between 1173 and 1177. 
 
 The poet commences with an address to God, which 
 
 was afterwards imitated in many Christian poems : — 
 
 " Maker of all things, 
 King of all kings, 
 Judge over all. 
 To thee I call; 
 Send to my mouth 
 The words of thy truth.'' 
 etc. 
 
 Charlemagne, warned by an angel, starts with his 
 army and twelve princes to Spain, to fight against the 
 infidel. He reduces all the country except Saragossa, 
 the residence of Marsilie, the pagan king. That 
 monarch calls a council of his vassals in this emergency. 
 One of them, the old and astute Blanscandiz, suggests 
 a pretended submission. The Emperor would then 
 retire, and they might set upon the forces which he 
 left behind. This counsel is adopted. Blanscandiz 
 sets ofi" for Corderes, before which town Charlemagne 
 then lay. With palms in their hands, and accompanied 
 by ten white mules, laden with gold, the envoys, as 
 they descend into the valley, espy the Imperial forces, 
 and their waving banners of green, red, and white. 
 Arrived at the Emperor's quarters, they behold on the 
 one side fights between bears and lions, on the other, 
 young warriors contending in knightly exercises. IMusic 
 and singing meet their ears on every side. Tame eagles 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 113 
 
 sweep over the heads of the lords and ladies, and pro- 
 tect them from the sun's glare ; agile falcons ascend and 
 descend through the air. In the midst of all this mag- 
 nificence the Emperor is seated in tranquil majesty. 
 His eyes gleam like the star of the morning, so that he 
 is recognised afar off, and nobody dares ask " which is 
 he?" None might compare with him. His coun- 
 tenance was shining as the sun at midday, so that the 
 envoys could not endure to look on him. Terrible he 
 was to the foe, kind to the poor, victorious in war, 
 merciful to transgressors ; an upright judge, and teacher 
 of justice which had been taught him by angels ; and, 
 lastly, the true soldier and servant of God. 
 
 The Emperor summons a council of his twelve 
 princes to consider the proposals of the pagan king. 
 Roland, Olivier, Turpin, and Naimes of Bavaria, appre- 
 hensive of treachery, vote in the negative. Genelun 
 of Mayence, father-in-law to Roland, is for accepting 
 the offered terms. It being at last determined to send 
 an embassy to Marsilie, Roland volunteers his services, 
 which are declined by the Emperor. On this, Roland 
 proposes his father-in-law, Genelun, who curses his re- 
 lative for wishing to send him on a mission of certain 
 death. But go he must, notwithstanding. Charle- 
 magne reaches him his glove, Genelun lets it fall; which 
 is considered an evil omen. On the way to Saragossa, 
 Blanscandiz, who is aware of Genelun's hatred against 
 Roland, persuades him to betray the youthful warrior 
 into the hands of the Moors. Genelun concerts a plan 
 with the Moorish king accordingly. On his return 
 he is received with distinguished honours. His pro- 
 
114 GERMAN LITER ATUEE. 
 
 position to make Eoland ruler over half Spain is lis- 
 tened to by Charlemagne, who on the following night 
 is troubled with oppressive dreams. Koland starts for 
 his government, and encounters an immense hostile 
 force. The pagan army is thrice destroyed, and as 
 many times renewed, while the army of the Christians 
 gradually melts away. The pagans now rush on to the 
 fourth and final struggle ; the whole plain reverberates 
 with their war songs, the blasts of horns, and the clank 
 of armour. Undismayed by the immense odds, the 
 small band of true believers presses on to the fight 
 with joyous hearts ; they dash into the very midst of 
 the foe, and show them that Durandarte and Altecler, 
 Eoland's and Olivier's swords, are as trenchant as 
 ever. The Lord, ever ready to help those that call upon 
 him, did great wonders that day by the hand of his 
 people ; the helmets blazed with a fire as if from Hea- 
 ven, till it seemed that doomsday was come. But still 
 the swarthy foemen keep advancing, like the trees of 
 the forest in multitude ; heaps upon heaps fall the 
 brave ; the darkness of death overshadows their eye- 
 sight, but they cheerfully endure it all, for they have 
 fought for a heavenly kingdom ; their bodies lie among 
 the heathen, but their souls are with the saints. Bishop 
 Turpin bids the very small remnant pray to God for 
 mercy, as not one will escape alive. The Emperor will 
 avenge their death. At last Eoland seizes his ivory 
 horn with both hands, and blows so loud a blast that it 
 drowns the din of the battle ; the Emperor in the dis- 
 tance hears the sound, and hastens up with succours, 
 but all are slain before he arrives, — Olivier, Turpin, and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 115 
 
 last of all, Eoland, who breaks his good horn, Olifant, 
 on the head of a pagan, who supposing him to be dead, 
 had come up to plunder the corpse ; he next tries to 
 break his sword, Durandarte, lest it should fall into the 
 hands of the heathen ; ten times he strikes it against 
 a rock, but ten times to no purpose. His sword, which 
 had served him truly in all his battles, still stands by 
 him in the hour of death, without dent and without 
 flaw, gleaming as in the days of victory. That sword, 
 which had been his companion against the Lombard, 
 the Saxon, and the Moor, he now resigns into the 
 hands of the true warrior, Christ. To Him he prays 
 for his Emperor, and all his Carlovingians ; then he 
 bows his head to death ; from that moment to reign in 
 everlasting bliss with the arch-angels of Heaven. 
 
 Next follows a description of Charlemagne's ven- 
 geance upon the Paynim ; the lament for Eoland, and 
 the punishment of the traitor Genelun, who is torn to 
 pieces by wild horses at Aix-la-Chapelle. 
 
 In this ancient poem there are some truly epic 
 incidents; such, for instance, is the attempt of the 
 Christian hero to destroy his sword, that It may serve 
 nobody but the Lord of Heaven. (In the French 
 version of the Saga he actually buries it in the water). 
 The heathen SIgfrld's sword, on the contrary, when Its 
 master is no more, is made the instrument In another's 
 hands to avenge his death.* 
 
 * The " Rolandslied " was first published in 1 727 in the second volume 
 of Schiller's "Thesaurus," but with great omissions; in 1838, complete, 
 by W. Grimm, " Euolandes Lied," with the illustrations of the Pala- 
 tinate MS. The French source is not yet discovered. Nearest to the 
 
116 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 The version of this legend, executed at a later period 
 by an Austrian poet, called the " Strieker," is but a 
 sorry aifair.* 
 
 Another poem, which belongs to the Carlovlngian 
 Sagas, is the "Karlmainet," formerly known under the 
 name of "Biermunt." 
 
 Wolfram von Eschenbach's " Wilhelm von Oranse " 
 is one of the most perfect productions of the art-poetry 
 of this period. It is based on a foreign original, which 
 was procured for "Wolfram by Hermann,' Landgrave of 
 Thuringia, but it only contains the middle part of the 
 legend. The matter is of subordinate interest ; not so 
 the descriptions ; every page abounds with fresh beau- 
 ties. In the year 1250, Ulrich von Tiirheim, a writer 
 of very ordinary powers, wrote a continuation of it ; 
 and fifteen years later, a beginning was composed by 
 Ulrich von dem Tiirlin, an equally bad poet.f 
 
 German " Eolandslied " is " Le chanson de Roland ou de Eoncevaux " 
 (edited by F. Michel, 1837 ; extracts by A. Keller, altfranz. Sagen, i. 59). 
 This is attributed to one Turold. 
 
 * The Strieker's " Karl " is hitherto printed only in the second volume 
 of Schilter's " Thesaurus." He seems to have made use of other older 
 German poems besides the " Eolandslied." 
 
 t The extant fragments of " Karlmainet " were published by Lachmann 
 in 1 836 in the " Abhandlungen der Berliner Akademie." A later version 
 of the work is to be found in Massmann's "Denkmaler," p. 155, and in 
 Benecke's "Beitrage," ii. 611, under the title of "Breimunt," 
 
 Wolfram von Eschenbach's " Wilhelm von Oranse " was, together 
 with Ulrich von Turheim's rhymed commencement of the Saga, first 
 published by Casparson, 1782 and 1784, but after a bad MS., and uncri- 
 tically. In 1833 it was published in a complete form by Lachmann, 
 along with the other works of Wolfram. Of the legend of " Wilhelm von 
 Oranse " (Guilliaume au court nez) there was an older Lower-Ehenish 
 version. See Eeuss, " Fragment eines Gedichts von den Heldenthaten 
 der Kreuzfahrer im Eeiligen Lande," 1839^ 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 117 
 
 The "Helmonskinder" is a saga of this period, at the 
 bottom of which there lies considerable poetic power. 
 It relates to the contest before Charlemagne and his 
 vassals. But the only German version of it is a trans- 
 lation from a Dutch poem made about the year 1470, 
 by one Johannes Grumelkut, alias Johann von Soest, 
 of Hesse Cassel. This is only a tame and spiritless 
 production. 
 
 In the poem of "Flos and Blankflos," (Fleur et 
 Blanchefleur, Rose and Lily,) the best part is the 
 description of the tender affection subsisting between 
 the two chief personages of the piece.* 
 
 The Sagas concerning the " Heilige Graal " next 
 claim our attention. We now enter into a world of 
 enchantment, peopled with fantastic shapes. At one 
 time fancy revels in its most glowing splendoui-s ; at 
 another we are in the realm of sober serious thought ; 
 and anon misty shadows are drawn across the scene. 
 The whole may be considered as an apt reflex of 
 the age of the Hohenstaufens, with its gravities and 
 gaieties, its earnest comictions, and its genial taste for 
 enjoyment- 
 Deep-rooted in the mythology of Hindostan, is the 
 
 No edition has yet appeared of the continnation of the legend of TTO- 
 hehn, commonly called ■■ Der Starke EenneTrart," irhich was written by 
 Ulrich von Tiirheim as his continnation to Gottfried's " Tristan." 
 
 * ■' Flos and Blankflos " (Flore and Blanscheflnr) was composed by 
 Konrad Flecke in 1230, after the French original of a certain Koprecht 
 von Orbent His model is Gottfried of Strasburg. There is a very in- 
 complete reprint of this poem in the Miiller collection, vol. ii. A 
 serviceable edition of the poem appeared at Qnedlinbnrg, 1846, '-Flore 
 und Blanscheflnr eine erzahlung von Eonr. Flecke," 
 
118 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 legend of a spot in the world, secure alike from all the 
 wants and all the cares of this life ; where pleasure is 
 to be had without labour, and happiness without alloy. 
 A spot where there is no wish, because there is 
 nothing left to wish for ; where there is no hope, 
 because every hope is fulfilled ; a spot where the thirst 
 for knowledge is appeased, and the soul is at peace for 
 evermore. The same legend of an earthly Paradise is 
 shadowed forth by Homer and Herodotus in their 
 " Banquets of the Gods," and in the sun-tables of the 
 pious Ethiopians. It lives, too, in the Indian legend 
 of " The Grove of Cridavana," vocal with the hum of 
 bees and song of birds, the abode of wisdom and of 
 peace. 
 
 When men began to wander further and further 
 from God, all that was left of this Paradise was one 
 precious relic. Some fancied this was a costly cup, 
 from which the golden gifts of Heaven streamed upon 
 mankind; others that it was a shrine preserved in a 
 temple, like the Caaba at Mecca. 
 
 This pagan legend was seized by the reflecting 
 mind of the middle ages, and converted into a symbol 
 of the Christian church upon earth. 
 
 A precious stone of matchless brilliancy, so runs the 
 Christian legend, was wrought into a cup. This cup, 
 which belonged to Joseph of Arimathea, was the one 
 used by our Saviour at the Last Supper, and the same 
 which caught the blood that flowed from his pierced 
 side after the Crucifixion. Hence the vessel became 
 endued with a mysterious power. Wherever it was, 
 there were good things in abundance. Whoever 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 119 
 
 looked upon it, even though he were sick unto death, 
 could not die that week; whoever looked at it con- 
 tinually, his cheeks never grew pale, nor his hair grey. 
 This vessel is the Heilige Graal (dish or cup). Every 
 Good Friday a white dove descended from Heaven 
 with the host, and placed it on the vessel, which was 
 supported at one time by floating angels, at another 
 by spotless virgins. No greater honour can be con- 
 ceived among men than to be its keeper and guardian ; 
 but it is an honour of which not every man is worthy, 
 A self-denying, pure, and lowly-minded people, such, 
 and such only, may aspire to the honour. Its de- 
 fenders form a special order of chivalry ; valiant in 
 fight, prudent and wise, true to the gentler sex, and 
 faithful to the Lord of Heaven. They are called 
 Templars, from the temple where the vessel is pre- 
 served (Templeisen). In this name there Is an evident 
 allusion to the Knights Templars, who, as they existed 
 originally, were the very ideal of Christian heroism. 
 For many a year after Joseph of Arimathea had 
 brought this vessel into the West, no one was found 
 worthy to be its guardian, until Titurel, son of a king 
 of France (Anjou ?), brought it to Salvaterre, in Biscay, 
 where he built for it a temple on Montsalvage, and a 
 castle for the knights who were to guard it.* The top 
 of this hill was of polished onyx, which shone like the 
 moon. The ground-plan of the temple and adjacent 
 
 * On the Saga of the " Gral," which is still obscure, see Joseph Gorres' 
 " Binleitung zum Lohengrin. — San Marte (Schalz) Lehen und Dichten 
 Wolframs von Escheubach," ii. 357 ; and Simrock's " Uebersetzung 
 des Parcival," i. 481, 
 
120 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 buildings was laid out in a single night by the power 
 of the holy vessel. The temple itself was one hundred 
 fathoms in diameter. Around it were seventy-two 
 chapels of an octagonal shape. To every pair of 
 chapels there was a tower six stories high, approach- 
 able by a winding stair on the outside. In the centre 
 stood a tower twice as big as the others, which rested 
 on arches. The vaulting was of blue sapphire, and in 
 the centre a plate of emerald, with the Lamb and 
 banner of the Cross in enamel. All the altar-stones 
 were of sapphire, as symbols of the propitiation of 
 sins. Upon the inside of the cupola, surmounting the 
 temple, the sun and moon were represented in diamonds 
 and topazes, and shed a light, as of day, even in the 
 darkness of the night. The windows were of crystal, 
 beryl, and other transparent stones. The floor was 
 translucent crystal, under which were all the fishes of 
 the sea carved out of onyx just like life. The towers 
 were of precious stones inlaid with gold ; their roofs of 
 gold and blue enamel. Upon every tower there was a 
 crystal cross, and upon it a golden eagle with expanded 
 wings, which at a distance appeared to be flying. At 
 the summit of the main tower was an immense car- 
 buncle, which served, like a star, to guide the templars 
 thither at night. In the centre of the building under 
 the dome was a miniature representation of the whole, 
 and in this the holy vessel was kept* 
 
 * " Sulpiz Boisseree iiber die Besclireibung des Tempels des Heilig. 
 Grals,'' Munich, 1834 (also in the " Transactions of the Munich Aca- 
 demy, 1835," i. 307). The description is to be found in the " Jiingere 
 TiturrI," edited by Hahn, 1842, strophe 31 1. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 12] 
 
 Tlio above description nt once reminds us of the 
 temple of the new Jenisalcui in the Apocalypse ; but 
 at the same time it is evidently meant as a glowing 
 ideal of German architecture geneitilly. The cliapel 
 o( the Holy Cross near Prague, in which the crown 
 jowelv-4 of Bohennia are preserved, is an exact model of 
 the magnificent temple just described. It was built 
 by tlio Emperor Charles IV. The reputed Sangrcal 
 (t7 sarro cafiiio) has been preserved for centuries at 
 Genoa ; for some time it was at Paris. In fact it 
 existed at the time when the poem was written, for 
 the reader is specially warned against believing in its 
 virtue or authentieity. All round the temple was a 
 thick wood of ebony, cypress, and cedai" trees, through 
 which nobody could penetrate unbidden ; in the some 
 way tliat none can come to Christ, unless he be called 
 of Him. 
 
 For many centuries this temple flourished in all its 
 original grandeur, until at length the people of the 
 "West grew so ungodly, that they wei'c no longer 
 thought worthy to have it in the midst of them. So 
 the sacred vessel, temple and all, wei-e transported by 
 aiigois into the East, tlie land of medieval fairy-tales 
 iuid wonders, the land of Prester John. 
 
 The above legend was, accoi-ding to AVolfram von 
 Eseheubaeh. first put into definite shape by tlie Mooi"s 
 in Sjiain. It was then probably put into its Christian 
 dress by the Spaniards, smd became further poetically 
 developed in France and Germany. Still it is not to be 
 found in any independent poem in the German language, 
 but is mixed up with the British legend of King Arthur 
 
 a 
 
122 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 and the Bound Table, which has really nothing to do 
 with it. 
 
 Artus, or Arthur, is the old national hero of 
 Britain, the champion of the Celts against the inroads 
 of the conquering Germanic races. As a nation, the 
 Celts have ceased to be. But by a sort of poetical 
 retribution, this Saga, the embodiment of their 
 national consciousness, has ruled supreme for near a 
 thousand years throughout the whole Bomanic and 
 Germanic world. 
 
 At Caerlleon (the Castle of Leon), on the Usk, in 
 Wales, the monarch keeps court, with his beautiful 
 ■Queen Ghwenhwywar (in Eomance, Ginovre). They 
 are surrounded by a glittering throng of knights and 
 ladies ; the former a model of gallantry and valour, the 
 latter of feminine grace and virtues. Foremost among 
 this brilliant assemblage are twelve knights seated at a ' 
 round table. They are the bravest of the brave, the 
 noblest of the noble, and form a court of chivalry. To 
 be one of their number is the highest honour to which 
 a knight can aspire ; — to be excluded from King 
 Arthur's court, the deepest disgrace that can befall 
 him. It was from the court of King Artus that 
 knights set out in search of adventures, such as rescuing 
 distressed damsels, humbling oppressors, conquering 
 giants and dwarves, and disenchanting enchanted per- 
 sons. One of the chief scenes of the wonders of the 
 legend is the wood of Brezilian (Celtic Broch-allean, 
 the wood of Solitude), which to this day bears this 
 name in the province of -Bretagne. 
 
 The original Welsh legends about King Arthur, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 123 
 
 which first came to light a few years ago, being, 
 perhaps, extracts from some earlier legends, are nothing 
 better than a mass of adventures without aim or reason, 
 full of trivialities, and, with much affectation of mystery 
 and importance, told in the dryest style possible; at 
 one time the story is overloaded with unsuitable orna- 
 ment ; at another it is naked and bald. Yet, notwith- 
 standing these defects, the British legends found great 
 favour in the twelfth century with the French, who, it 
 must be remembered, had next to no national Epos 
 of their own. In their hands, the rude form of the 
 originals would seem to have received a more attractive 
 guise. The chief use they made of them was as a 
 vehicle to represent their ideal of courtly chivalry; 
 which, in the twelfth century, had arrived at the zenith 
 of its magnificence. It was early in the twelfth century 
 that the Saga of Artus reached Germany through 
 France. Several epics of various merit were con- 
 structed upon it as a basis. A comparison of these 
 with each other is particularly instructive. First, we 
 have works in which the inmost depths of human life 
 are mirrored forth in a wonderful manner ; then others 
 so exquisite in description that, as Gervinus remarks, 
 the reader quite forgets the insipidity of the story; 
 after this, others which aim at artistic narrative, but 
 miss their mark ; and so on till we arrive at works so 
 stiff' and stupid, as to be unworthy of criticism. The 
 most prominent personages in the legend are Pareival 
 (as he is called in the French and German, but in the 
 Welsh, Peredur), Lohengrin, Tristan, Iwein, Erec, 
 Gawain, Wigalois, Wigamur, Gauriel, and Lanzelot. 
 
 a 2 
 
124 GEEMAN LITEEATDEE. 
 
 The above two legends, then, that of the Gral, and 
 King Arthur, are combined with each other in three Ger- 
 man poems : " Parcival," " Titurel," and " Lohengrin." 
 In each of these, however, the Gral is the main topic, 
 Arthur being introduced episodically. Before giving a 
 more detailed account of the Parcival, a few words 
 upon the author. Wolfram von Eschenbach was born 
 at the small town of that name near Ansbach, where 
 his monument was still to be seen in the fifteenth 
 century. Descended from a poor, but knightly family, 
 he was one of that circle of poets who, at the end of 
 the twelfth, and for the first fourteen years of the 
 thirteenth century, mustered at the brilliant court of 
 Hermann, the munificent Landgrave of Thuringia. 
 An anticipation this of a similar spectacle which was 
 witnessed at the court of the same country six hundred 
 years later. Wolfram composed some of his poems at 
 the Wartburg, near Eisenach.* But, as he himself 
 informs us, he did not take up his permanent abode 
 there ; being sometimes engaged elsewhere in the 
 service of Count Wertheim, who was his feudal lord. 
 He must not be confounded with the herd of strolling 
 knights and minstrels who frequented the Thuringian 
 court. In fact, in the " Parcival," he reprehends such 
 trespassers on the landgrave's hospitality. Not one of his 
 poems is dedicated to a prince ; though his " Parcival " 
 is inscribed to a noble lady, the object of his passion. 
 Her name, however, in conformity with the courtly 
 
 * The "Parcival" about the year 1204, the " Willehalm" about 1215 
 and Vn&. 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 125 
 
 Spirit of the age, is left unmentioned. History has 
 left us no further particulars concerning Wolfram; 
 even the year of his death is unknown. 
 
 "Wolfram, in this epic of " Parcival," describes the 
 weal and woe of the inner man ; the soul and her aspira- 
 tions ; the conflict between the world and the spirit, 
 between pride and humility. In this respect it re- 
 sembles Goethe's " Faust." The first may be called a 
 psychological epic, the latter a psychological drama. 
 
 The legend, then, of the " British Peredur," or 
 "French Parcival," may be regarded as a skeleton, 
 which Wolfram transformed into a creature of flesh 
 and blood and muscle, full of life and soul and motion. 
 In his hands the fable of " Arthur " becomes a type of 
 worldly life, joyous, contented, splendid ; while the 
 Saga of the " Gral " represents a higher existence, 
 spiritual and eternal. 
 
 Parcival, placed as he is between world and spirit, 
 time and eternity, is the seeking erring man, devoted 
 to this world, denying God, proud and defiant. Then 
 he is the converted man, overcoming pride by humility, 
 inquiring for the spiritual and eternal, and at last 
 attaining to happiness and the possession of the spiritual 
 kingdom. 
 
 The following is a sketch of the plot: — 
 
 Parcival's father was Gamuret, of the blood royal of 
 Anjou. His mother was Herzeloide, descended from 
 the royal line, which had the custody of the sacred 
 Gral. His father dying young, Parcival was brought 
 up by his mother like an anchorite, in the sohtary 
 desert of Soltane, adjoining the forest of BrezUian. 
 
 G 3 
 
126 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 For she feared that, like his father, the love of adven- 
 ture might lead him into danger, and, like his father, 
 he would perish prematurely. In childish sport the 
 lad carves a bow and arrow, with which he shoots the 
 song-birds of the forest. But presently he bursts into 
 tears to think that their song has ceased, and he is the 
 cause of it. Ever after this he lies under the trees and 
 listens to the birds as they sweetly warble. His little 
 heart is full, and he runs weeping to his mother. The 
 mother would slay the birds that make him sad, but 
 he begs for their life, and she gives her son a kiss. 
 '? Shall I disturb the feathered warblers' peace — the 
 peace and joy that God to them has given ?" " Oh ! 
 what is God?" inquires the boy. His mother answers, 
 " Brighter is God than e'en the brightest day ; yet 
 once he took the form and face of man. In trouble 
 pray to him, for he is true. Not so the fiend, the 
 faithless Lord of Hell. Of him beware; beware of 
 wavering doubt." The lad devotes himself to hunting, 
 and waxes into manhood ; when one day, on a lonely 
 path through the forest, he discovers the print of 
 horses' hoofs. " Can that be the devil," thinks he, 
 " that my mother is so fearful of." At this moment 
 three stately knights, armed cap-^-pie, and superbly 
 mounted, advance towards him. In an instant all the 
 grandeur of the distant world is revealed to the youth's 
 inward eye. He thinks that each of the knights must 
 be a Godi Nothing now will stop him. He must 
 out of the verdant solitudes around him ; — out of his 
 mother's arms, into the gay world of chivalry ; there to 
 fight battles and win glory ; — out to king Artus' court. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 127 
 
 the flowet and pink of knighthood. His mother, who 
 cannot repress his new-born spirit for trayel and ad- 
 venture, has him a dress made ; but such a dress I It 
 is not that of a knight-errant, but of a fool. Sackcloth 
 and calfskin are its materials. And so he rides away ; 
 torn by conflicting emotions ; the irresistible longing to 
 roam ; and regret at leaving home : a condition of mind 
 which is strikingly expressed by the old German word 
 " tumb." This state of uncertainty and inexperience 
 pervades all our hero's career. It is the usual antago- 
 nism between thought and action ; between the world 
 within, still, reflecting, and innocent, and the world 
 without, all glitter, and grandeur, and confusion. The 
 son's departure breaks his mother's heart. She kisses 
 him and follows his footsteps. But when his form 
 disappears from her view she sinks to the ground and 
 her eyes close for ever. 
 
 Parcival arrives at the court of Artus, which hap- 
 pened then to be at Nantes. His grotesque appear- 
 ance makes a general sensation. A princess who had 
 never laughed in. her life laughs at the sight of him. 
 This is an incident, by the bye, of not unfrequent 
 occurrence in compositions of this class. His valour, 
 though rude and undisciplined, is also the theme of 
 universal remark. Subsequently, he takes lessons 
 from an aged knight in all the rules and practice of 
 chivalry. Parcival's simplicity, and the characteristic 
 method in which old Gurnamanz conveys his instruc- 
 tion, are among the best parts of the poem. 
 
 His first notable exploit is the deliverance of Queen 
 Konduiramur from her insolent suitors ; after which he 
 
 g4 
 
12S GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 becomes her husband, but soon sets out again to see his 
 mother, of whose death he is unaware. On his journey, 
 he comes one evening to a lake, where he inquires of 
 the fishermen for some place of entertainment. One of 
 them, in rich apparel, but of sad aspect, directs him to 
 a castle where he promises him good entertainment. 
 On reaching the castle he gains admittance by men- 
 tioning who had sent him thither. A dazzling sight 
 meets his astonished gaze within. In a spacious saloon 
 hung with a hundred lustres, four hundred knights 
 are seen sitting on a hundred couches. Fires of aloe 
 wood cast their aromatic odours around. A door like 
 polished steel opens, and four princesses clad in dark 
 scarlet enter with golden lamps. After these follow 
 eight noble virgins clad in green velvet, bearing a 
 transparent plateau of garnet. Six others succeed, car- 
 rying silver vessels; and after them yet another six, 
 who attend upon the fairest of the fair, the virgin 
 queen, Eepanse de joie. The latter bears a vessel of 
 marvellously brilliant pebble, which she places before 
 the king. But in the midst of all this magnificence 
 there is a source of deep affliction. The king himself 
 sits muffled in furs, sad, and sufiering from severe 
 wounds. The entrance of an attendant with a lance 
 dripping with blood is the signal for universal lamenta- 
 tion. Parcival sits beside the king, and, through the open 
 door, perceives In an adjoining apartment a very aged 
 man with snow white hair, stretched upon a bed. He 
 has arrived at the castle of the Oral, and yet he knows 
 it not; — knows not that he has arrived at the place 
 of highest bliss, and also of deepest suffering, which he 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 129 
 
 alone can alleviate ; — knows not that the Gral stands 
 before him;— knows not that the hoary patriarch is his 
 own ancestor, Titurel, king of the Gral ; that the sick 
 king is his own uncle, Anfortas, and the queen his 
 aunt. He cares nought, and asks nought about all 
 this, although the king gives him a sword and points 
 to his wounds. He partakes of a costly supper, and 
 sleeps in a costly bed. Next morning, when he 
 awakes, he finds his clothes and sword by his bedside, 
 and his horse standing ready saddled without ; but 
 there is not a soul to be seen throughout the deserted 
 halls of the castle. As he rides away, a squire hails 
 him from the buUding, in derisive tones, for not asking 
 about what he had seen. Directly afterwards he meets 
 with a young girl weeping over the corpse of her lover. 
 He has seen her once before ; but although she is 
 unknown to him she is in reality his foster sister 
 Sigune, the bride of Tschionatulander. From her he 
 learns what an error he has been guilty of in not 
 "inquiring after" the happiness that was so near him. 
 She curses him for showing no commiseration for 
 Anfortas, and with this leaves him. 
 
 Parcival rides onward sunk in a deep reverie, when 
 three drops of blood falling on the snow recall to his 
 mind his wife Conduiramur ; how a tear stood in each 
 eye and one upon her chin when he deserted her. A 
 dream of home comes over him, and he longs to see her 
 again once more. But many years must elapse pre- 
 viously ; and then he will find his wife and twin-sons 
 on this very spot. And so these ruddy drops, while 
 they remind him of the past, are also an augury of 
 
 a 5 
 
130 GEKMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 the future. " Thus we again recognise dreams and 
 thoughts of our childhood, when they come across us in 
 after years. Or like an aged man, as he beholds the 
 rising sun, bethinks him that once, when he was a child 
 and sitting on a bank, he saw it rise just in this manner, 
 and that he has never seen it rise so since. He knows 
 that it shone so before he was born, and thinks how it 
 will soon shine upon his grave."* This incident of the 
 blood- drops in the snow is not new. It is to be found 
 in the oldest Celtic and German Sagas ; and reappears 
 in the fairy tales "Sneewitch" and " Machandelbaum." 
 
 The knights, who have been despatched by King 
 Artus, cannot wake Parcival out of his reverie till they 
 cover up these blood-drops. King Artus offers to take 
 him into his Table-round, but the witch Kundrie, the 
 messenger of the Gral curses him, so he bids farewell 
 to all thoughts of worldly adventures, dedicates himself 
 to the service of the Gral, and departs, disquieted within 
 himself and doubting God. 
 
 Pour years he wanders in distraction and doubt. 
 During this period he is entirely lost sight of, and we 
 have before us a different scene. We see secular chi- 
 valry in all its gorgeousness, with Gawein for its hero ; 
 who, like Parcival, ultimately goes in quest of the 
 Gral. 
 
 At length, one Good Friday, Parcival reappears. 
 A cavalier in a grey mantle meets him and bids him 
 simply and solemnly reflect on the higher end of his ex- 
 istence, and on that God to whom he has been faithless. 
 
 » Grimm, « Altdentsche Wiilder," i. 5. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 131 
 
 Under his guidance Parcival arrives at a hermit's, whom 
 he finds is his uncle Trevrizent. From him he learns 
 that pride and doubt -will never win the sacred vessel. 
 Anfortas, the king of the Gral, once went to battle 
 with the cry of " Amur ;" but worldly love was un- 
 suited for his high vocation, and therefore it was that 
 he had been wounded by the poisoned spear which 
 Parcival had seen. From an inscription on the Gral it 
 is known that his torments will never end till a knight 
 comes and inquires about the vessel and about the 
 sufferings of the king. To this knight, Anfortas will 
 resign the kingdom, and it is no other than Parcival, 
 his nephew. 
 
 We next encounter Gawein, the worldly cavalier, 
 disenchanting the Chateau Merveil, which has been 
 placed under a spell by that infamous magician, 
 KKngsobr, — Klingsohr, who afterwards appears as an 
 historical personage, and who had the famous contest 
 in singing with Wolfram himself on the Wartburg. 
 Meantime Parcival passes by the castle, and, although 
 fully aware what a grand field for achieving worldly 
 honour lies here before him, he passes onward uncon- 
 cerned upon his new path., So that the knights in front 
 of the castle can scarcely believe their eyes, that it is 
 Parcival himself who has thus passed by. Subsequently 
 Parcival fights and conquers the worldly champion, 
 Gawein, without intending it. This shows that thoughts 
 must rise into actions; that the spiritual power must,.if 
 necessary, be able to measure itself against the temporal. 
 Subsequently he fights for Gawein, and is admitted into 
 the Table-round. But he speedily leaves the walks of 
 
 G 6 
 
132 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 secular chivalry to fulfil the task that is imposed upon 
 him. He meets and vanquishes the leader of a band of 
 heathens, whom he discovers to be Feirefiz, his half- 
 brother. He has long been purified inwardly; by the last 
 act his outward purification is also accomplished. The 
 messenger of the Gral, who once cursed him, announces to 
 him that he is destined to be the King of the Gral; and 
 he sets off for the temple. He releases his uncle from 
 his sufferings by asking after the cause of them; succeeds 
 to the kingdom of the Gral ; finds his wife and two 
 children, the younger of whom, Kardeis, is crowned 
 king of his worldly dominions. The elder^ Lohengrin, 
 is destined to succeed his father. It is now made a 
 rule that from henceforward, whenever a knight is 
 sent out on a mission by the Gral, he must permit no 
 questions to be asked about his descent, Lohengrin's 
 wife, the young Duchess of Brabant, in spite of warn- 
 ing, persists in questioning her husband upon the for- 
 bidden topic ; on which, he leaves her for ever, and is 
 conveyed back to the Gral in a skiff drawn by a swan, 
 an incident familiar to the student of the old German 
 Sagas. And so ends the poem ; which, in order fully 
 to be appreciated, must be read over and over again. 
 Wolfram himself jokingly mentions the crabbedness of 
 his German. Others called him " an inventor of strange 
 wild stories ;" but, notwithstanding this, the " Parci- 
 val " continued for many centuries to be regarded as 
 the masterpiece of chivalresque poetry ; and this even 
 though his language must have become perfectly unin- 
 intelligible after two centuries. Upon the invention of 
 printing it was one of the first books that appeared 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 133 
 
 from the press. This was as early as 1477. In 1784 
 an edition came out by Miiller, the editor of the 
 " Nibelungenlied." Besides this, we have an excellent 
 critical edition of all Wolfram's works by Lachmann. 
 Two translations have also appeared very lately, one 
 by San-Marte (Schulz), which, though readable, is at 
 times faulty. It also contains an analysis of "Wilhelm 
 von Oranse," and the "Younger Titurel," as well as some 
 researches into the Sagas of the " Gral " and " Artus." 
 Simrock's translation is upon the whole satisfactory. 
 
 Wolfram also commenced a history in verse of Titurel, 
 the old Gral-king ; or rather of Tschionatulander and 
 Sigune, their first love, adventures, and miserable 
 end. The poem is written in strophes of seven lines 
 each; but is in an unfinished and fragmentary state. 
 In point of form it is among the most finished speci- 
 mens of court-poetry of the thirteenth century still 
 extant.* 
 
 About the year 1270 one Albrecht von Scharfen- 
 berg wrote a poem upon Titurel, which he passed ofi" in 
 Wolfram's name ; and which, although a very second- 
 rate affair, was for a long time held to be genuine. It 
 was called the " Younger Titurel," in contradistinction 
 to the fragment of the genuine " Titurel" by Wolfram. 
 
 Lohengrin, the third poem of the series, M'as also 
 attributed to Wolfram, but without any foundation. 
 It is written in the Meistersanger strophe, the so-called 
 
 * The fragments of " Titurel," written by Wolfram, were first made 
 known by Docen, 1810. They are in Lachmann's edition of "Wolfram 
 von Esehenbach," 1833. The only edition of the "Tounger Titurel," 
 which exists in a good many MSS., is that of Hahn, "Der Jiingere 
 Titurel," 1842. 
 
134 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 black strain (schwarze Ton) of Klingsohr, and describes 
 the exploits and fortunes of Lohengrin, the son of 
 Parcival, which are jumbled up with the true history 
 after a strange and clumsy fashion. The poem opens 
 with the musical contest on the Wartburg. It then 
 accompanies our hero, who is married to the Duchess of 
 Brabant, to the wars, some of which are purely fabulous, 
 others historical; and concludes with hia separation 
 from the Duchess, in consequence of her indiscreet 
 inquiries about his birth and lineage.* Some of the 
 similes in this piece are good ; the descriptions of man- 
 ners are also faithful. Here, as elsewhere (e. g., in 
 Grimm's fairy tales), we meet with that strange mythi- 
 cal fancy, representing great heroic families as sprung 
 from the depths of the sea. The embodiment of this 
 idea is a mysterious swan, which appears from time to 
 time in the story. This saga was current among the 
 Angles and Danes, no less than among the Franks and 
 Guelphs. It became mixed up with the legends of 
 Charlemagne and the Gral, and even with those of the 
 Roman invasion. It reappears in the story of Saint 
 Genove'.a; and lingers on still, according to the very 
 probable supposition of J. Grimm, in the fable of " The 
 Blind Hessian." 
 
 We shall now advert to Gottfried von Strasburg's 
 poem of " Tristan and Isolt." 
 
 In the whole range of German literature no other 
 instance occurs of two contemporary authors so entirely 
 
 * "Lohengrin," ed. Gorres, 1813. The text is not critically treated, hut 
 the preface, mentioned in note at page 119 ahove, is worthy of perusal. 
 
 t J. Grimm's "Deutsche Mythologie," second edition, pp. 343,346. 
 Comp. H. Leo iiher Beowulf, 1839, p. 18. 
 
THE OLD PEBIOD. 135 
 
 diverse as Wolfram and Gottfried. It Is a diversity 
 not only of subject-matter and form, but likewise of 
 language and of ideas. And first, for the subject- 
 matter. One feature indeed is common to them both. 
 They both worked upon French versions of ol,d British 
 legends. These Celtic legends, as we remarked pre- 
 viously, abounded with a heap of adventures thrown 
 together without the least connection. But they had 
 another peculiarity. They were often exceedingly im- 
 moral. They set at nought laws human and divine 
 without the least compunction. Possibly French frivo- 
 lity made bad worse, and some of the obscenity is due 
 to the translators; but the germs of this immorality 
 subsisted already in the Celtic originals. 
 
 One of these stories, which in its utter contempt for 
 the marriage-tie may compete with the most abandoned 
 productions of the modern French school, was selected 
 by Gottfried as the subject of his poem, " Tristan and 
 Isolt." Out of the dull materials before him he has 
 created a picture full of life and spirit, and that spirit 
 his own — a psychological picture so true and profound 
 as to surpass anything of the kind that was ever pro- 
 duced. His theme is love ; of the earth, earthy ; all- 
 consuming, devouring love ; love bent on enjoyment, 
 and blind to everything besides. The dictates of con- 
 science, the calls of duty, are put entirely out of sight. 
 Nothing interferes with the sweet delusion. Woman is 
 depicted, dissolved in engrossing passion, fanning the 
 unholy flame with all her might. The man, on the other 
 hand, abandons himself heart and soul to her bewitching 
 spells, till the mind Is so utterly enervated and unstrung 
 
136 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 that he cannot even be constant to the ohject of his 
 affections. AH this is painted with much truth and 
 force, and at the same time with surpassing liveliness 
 and naivet6. 
 
 Here is none of the sombre earnestness of Wolfram. 
 The words and the metre are admirably adapted to the 
 subject ; clear and bright, smooth and flowing. There 
 are no heavy and uninteresting episodes of knights and 
 knightly games to interrupt the smiling tenor of the 
 love-story. The lovers, and they alone, are before us. 
 All is sprightly, and gay, and graceful. At times the 
 tale rises into the lyrical, both in tone and measure ; or 
 rather we may pronounce it to be Minne poetry, in all 
 its careless luxuriance, all its alluring charms, thrown 
 into the dress of narrative. 
 
 From what has been said it will be at once apparent 
 what a striking contrast was exhibited between Wolfram 
 and Gottfried. Indeed it was Gottfried who slight- 
 ingly called Wolfram " an inventor of strange, wild 
 stories." A man of the world Ijjse he was would 
 necessarily feel no sympathy for the holy earnestness, 
 the staid dignity, of his contemporary. This was quite 
 beyond him, quite out of his line. To swim with the 
 stream, or rather in front of it, to point the way to 
 pleasure and gratification, such was his vocation; while 
 Wolfram, with warning voice, strives to stem the tor- 
 rent of worldly fashion. It is not impossible that the 
 high ground taken by Wolfram, his claim to be a censor 
 and instructor of the age, raised a spirit of opposition in 
 Gottfried, and first struck from him the poetic spark 
 which blazes forth in " Tristan and Isolt." 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 137 
 
 Here, in this thirteenth century, which was so 
 thoroughly penetrated with the spirit of Christianity, 
 we perceive the first germ of that antagonism to a 
 Christian life and practice which was afterwards so 
 conspicuous. Gottfried's " Tristan " gave the first im- 
 pulse to that new movement, although the poet himself 
 owed his inspiration primarily to the shock which Chris- 
 tianity had given to the age in which he lived. He 
 may be considered as the forerunner of that appetite 
 for worldly and physical enjoyment, for material ad- 
 vantage and possession, which In the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries caused Europe to degenerate into 
 mere animalism, hypocrisy, and disbelief. 
 
 Gottfried left his work unfinished. His modern 
 admirers are of opinion that, if he had completed it, he 
 would have wound up with a wholesome moral, showing 
 how subversive the indulgence in carnal appetites is to 
 the true spirit of chivalry. The poem itself contains 
 no indications of such intention. 
 
 Ulrich von TUrheim and Heinrlch von Freiburg both 
 wrote continuations of " Tristan." The first is very 
 brief. The latter, though written with more skill and 
 ornateness, is much inferior to the model.* At the same 
 time it must be mentioned that Gottfried's was not the 
 first German version of "Tristan." In the twelfth 
 
 * Gottfried's " Tristan " appeared first in vol. ii. of Miiller's Collection, 
 1784, -with tbe continuation of " Heinrich von Freiburg," a bad and useless 
 edition. Later it was edited by Eberhard v. Groote, 1821, with TJlricli 
 von Tiirheim's continuation; by Hagen, 1823, with both continuations, 
 and a glossary; and, lastly, in 1843, by Massmann. Gottfried, — yiho is 
 always called Meister, not Herr, — must have been of burgher rani, but 
 a man of learning, and have written " Tristan" about 1210. 
 
138 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 century, one Eilhart von Oberg wrote what was appa- 
 rently nothing more than a translation from the French, 
 with none of Gottfried's brilliancy. This version was 
 afterwards much altered and converted into a prose 
 work, which was a good deal read till late in the six- 
 teenth century.* Another German version is that of 
 Immermann ; the last that by H. Kurtz. No poet of 
 the thirteenth century was so much imitated by his own 
 and the succeeding generations as Gottfried. There 
 are several Minne songs written in his honour. Rudolf 
 von Ems, and other writers of art-epics, designate him 
 as their model. The other poems upon the Artus-saga, 
 though differing from each other in merit, constituted a 
 distinct class when compared with the works of Wolfram 
 and Gottfried. They adhere to the subject-matter as 
 they find it in the French translations. There is no 
 prevailing idea in them, which, as in the case of 
 "Tristan" and "Parcival," animates the whole, and 
 renders it superior to the original. Their excellence 
 consists in lopping off superfluities, in skilfully con- 
 necting adventures together which it seemed difficult to 
 connect, in giving a lively and pleasing story, closely 
 following the original, and in putting the quaintTlooking 
 figures into a German dress, 
 
 Hartmann von der Aue stands pre-eminent in these 
 
 * Eilhart von Oberg was bom in the province of Hildesheim, and 
 lived between 1189 and 1207. The few extant fragments of hia original 
 work are in Hoffmann's " Fnndgruben," i. 231. A later poetical version 
 exists only in MSS. (Pfalzer Hs. 346, and at Dresden). The prose 
 romance appeared first in 1484, then in 1498, and often. It was printed 
 in Peyerabend's "Buch der Liebe," 1587, and from thence in Biisching 
 and Hagen's ,"Buch der Liebe," 1809. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD, 139 
 
 I'espects. His "Erec" and "Iwein" are upon the Artus- 
 saga. The former, also called " Erec and Enite," is a 
 youthful composition. It was written about 1290. In 
 it the stiflfness of the old Celtic stories is not entirely 
 overcome.* His marvellous powers as a story-teller are 
 first unfolded in " Iwein," the Knight with the Lion, 
 written about ten years Mer. His style is particularly 
 easy and natural, and suits itself exactly to the matter 
 in hand, whether it be earnest harangue, merry joke, 
 or rapid conversation. Nothing can be done better. 
 Indeed, his skill as a narrator is so exquisite that, even 
 where the plot is dull and uninteresting, we go on 
 reading merely for the description's sake. The true- 
 hearted motto with which the poem opens and closes, 
 " Swer an rehte giiete wendet sin gemiiete dem volget 
 saelde unde ^re :" — 
 
 " Who to real goodness turneth his mind, 
 He shall have honour and fortune combined;" — 
 
 proves the writer to have been an honest, upright, and 
 well-meaning man. And it is the exercise of the social 
 virtues that he seeks to place prominently forward in 
 the character of his hero. Iwein is the copy of the 
 
 * "Ereo and Enite" was discovered in 1821, last among the works 
 of Hartmann, and it was edited by Haupt in 1839. Erec, son of King 
 Lac, after obtaining the fair Enite to wife, omits, in her embraces, all. 
 knightly exercises. This draws upon him universal contempt, the reason 
 of which is disclosed to him by Enite. His love for her at once turns to 
 rancorous hate, and he commands her to follow him on his travels in 
 search of adventure, though she is not to speak a word to him. Then 
 follow a number of terrible trials, not only for Erec, who deserved it, 
 but for the innocent Enite. There is a foreign tone about the matter of 
 this poem which is not agreeable. 
 
140 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 moderate people of the age — those, in short, who were 
 not strong enough to live up to the lofty pattern of 
 Parcival — ^not weak enough to approve of Tristan. 
 How much the fahle has gained from the art of the 
 narrator will become at once apparent by comparing 
 this work with the Welsh original, edited by Lady 
 Guest, under the title of the " Lady at the Fountain," 
 and with Chretien of Troyes' "Chevalier au Lion." 
 " Parcival " has also been edited by the same lady, as 
 well as "Erec," under the title of " Geraint, son of 
 Erbin." There is an excellent German edition of 
 " Iwein," by Lachmann and Benecke, to which are 
 appended explanatory notes, and a first-rate glossary by 
 Benecke.* All the other poems upon the Artus-saga 
 are poor imitations of Hartmann. " Wigalois, or the 
 Knight with the Wheel," was written about 1212, by 
 a young knight, Wirnt von Grafenberg, Here and 
 there he copies Gottfried. It is clumsily done.f Ulrich 
 von Zazichoven's " Lanzelot vom See " is of about the 
 same date (not 1192). It is weak and unconnected, 
 and retains the obscurity of the original.^ Heinrich 
 
 * The first edition of " Iwein," by Benecke and Lachmann, appeared in 
 1 827, a second in 1 843 ; a translation and explanation, by Count Baudissen, 
 in 1845. The "Welsh romances, edited by Lady Gnest, are entitled " The 
 Mabinogion from the Llyfr coch o Hergest," Llandovery, 1838-1840; 
 a translation into German, with a good preface on the Arthur-saga, 
 " Die Arthur-sage und die Marchen des rothen Buchs von Hergest," 
 was published by San Marte (A. Schnlz) in 1842. These Celtic remains 
 are unfortunately more interesting in a learned than poetic point of view. 
 
 t " Wigalois der Bitter mit dem Bade von Wirnt von Gravenberch," 
 edited by Benecke, 1819, with notes and glossary. A new edition, with 
 critical notes, was published by !F. PfeifFer, 1847; a translation, by Count 
 Baudissen (Guy von Waleis), 1847. 
 
 J "Lanzelot. Eine Erzalung von Ulrich von Zatzikhoven," von 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 141 
 
 Yon dem Tiirlin's *' Aventiure Krone," written about 
 1220, describes Arthur and his knights.* It is a poor 
 aiFair. Poorer still are " Wigamur, or der Ritter mit 
 dem Adler,"t and " Gabriel von Muntavel, or der Ritter 
 mit dem Bock,"| both dating from the middle of the 
 thirteenth century, or a little later. 
 
 Reviewing the above works in order of time, we 
 obtain the following result. First, in Eilhart's " Tris- 
 tan," we have a faithful but rude imitation of the 
 Welsh original. Then come Hartmann's " Erec" and 
 " Iwein," which, though ornate, never rise to the dignity 
 of original ideas. Then follow the poems of Wolfram 
 and Gottfried, abounding with thought and original 
 genius. The summit is here reached. In the suc- 
 ceeding poets a decline is at once visible. They either 
 adhere slavishly to the originals, like Ulrich, or indo- 
 lently copy Hartmann, e.g. Wirnt, Heinrich Tiirlin, 
 
 Hahn, 1845. Xhe editor tries to defend the writer against the attacks of 
 Gervinus, but this "WipsalligeLanzelet" is a sorry personage. UWch's 
 description is naked, and has no soul in it. 
 
 * It was edited, 1852, by SchoU, in the " Bibliothek des Lit. Vereins 
 zu Stuttgart." Parts were published before, e. g. a panegyric on the 
 deceased poets Hartmann, Keinmar, &c., in Haupt's " Die Lieder und 
 Biichlein und der arme Heinrich von Hartmann," 1842, p. xii. (pre- 
 viously in Hagen's " Minnesanger," iv. 263) ; also " Die sage vom Zauber- 
 becher," by Hahn, in " F. Wolf uber die Lais Sequenzen und Leiche," 
 1841, p. 378, sqq. 
 
 t " Wigamur " was composed by an unknown poet, edited by Hagen 
 and Biisching, 1811, in their "Dichtungen des Mittel-alters." 
 
 X " Gabriel Ton Muntavel " von Kunhart von Stoffel is still unprinted. 
 A fragment is given in "Wackernagel alt-d. Leseb.," second edition, 
 i. p. 643. Connected with the Artus poetry is likewise " Daniel von 
 Blumenthal," by the Strieker, and " Gawein," by an unknown poet, 
 Walwan, and other heroes of the Artus group, probably had special 
 poems in their honour. 
 
142 GERMAN LITEEATUHE. 
 
 and the author of " Wigamur " and " Gabriel," who is 
 said to have been one Master Kunhart von Stoffel. 
 In the educated world of the succeeding centuries this 
 Artus poetry, notwithstanding its defects, continued to 
 be held in high estimation. Nay, the poorest specimens 
 often stood in the highest favour with the reading public. 
 As a proof of the veneration in which the knights of 
 the round-table were held, it may be recorded that so 
 late as the sixteenth century the nobility of South 
 Germany often christened their children by the names 
 of Parceval, Wigamur, and Wigalois. 
 
 We shall now pass on to the fourth group, viz., 
 poems upon antique characters and antique Sagas ; e. g. 
 the " History of the Trojan war," the tale of " .^neas," 
 the legend of " Alexander the Great." These occupy 
 the long interval from about 1170 to the end of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 The most noteworthy feature of all these pieces is 
 that everything appears in a thoroughly German dress. 
 Hector is not a Trojan hero, nor Achilles a Greek, nor 
 Turnus an Italian. They aU speak like German war- 
 riors of the age of chivalry. 
 
 In like manner, Alexander is not the Alexander of 
 history, but a German king. 
 
 Besides which, the legends of Troy, with the ex- 
 ception of the history of -^neas, did not come from 
 their poetical source. Homer ; for Homer was quite 
 unknown to the West till the fifteenth century. They 
 were derived from much later and obscurer sources, viz., 
 Dares and Dictys. " Alexander " was based not upon 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 143 
 
 history, biit upon the Saga, which was a mixture of 
 Oriental, Persian, Jewish, and Christian elements. 
 No doubt, at first sight, these poems look very sur- 
 prising. In the same way, that fault has been found 
 with Schiller's " Wallenstein," because everything about 
 it bears the air of the eighteenth century, and not o 
 the period of the thirty years' war. Indeed it would 
 be only necessary to substitute German names for those 
 of JEneas, Turnus, and Lavinia, to have a thorough 
 German romance. They are Gawain and Erec over 
 again. It is a striking proof of the force of German 
 genius in those days that some, though not all, of these 
 pieces, notwithstanding the strange transmutation that 
 has been effected in them, do not look in the least like 
 travesties; neither do the incongruities strike us dis- 
 agreeably. 
 
 The Saga of "Alexander the Great " was elaborated 
 by several writers ; e.g., by Ulrich von Eschenbach* (no 
 relation of Wolfram's), and by Kudolf von Ems;t but 
 the version bearing the name of one Priest Lamprecht, 
 and dating from the twelfth century, is unquestionably 
 far the best. Perhaps after all, this name, which is 
 mentioned at the beginning of the poem, is the name of 
 the author of the French version, Clerc Lambert ; in 
 
 * The " Alexandreis " of U. v. Eschenbach was composed between 
 1248 and 1284, and is still unprinted,see"WeckherlinBeitrage," 1-32. A 
 story out of it, due to another hand, " Alexander und Zwerg Autiloye," 
 is given in "Wackernagel die Handschriften der Bas. Univ. Bibl." 1836, 
 p. 27. 
 
 t Eudolf von Ems' " Alexandreis " was probably written between 
 1238 and 1241. All that has been printed of it is a passage, of literary 
 interest, in Hagen's " Minnesanger," iv. 865. 
 
144 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 which case the name of the author of the German ver- 
 sion is unknown. Be this as it may, the writer must 
 have been an ecclesiastic, as is plain from the contents 
 of the poem, and particularly from the end. 
 
 The legend of Alexander, the mighty world-con- 
 queror, who first opened the East to "Western enter- 
 prize, had long been current in both quarters of the 
 globe. The echo of his destroying footsteps was heard 
 in Persian story, and caught up, at an early period, in 
 the poetical romances of the West. The work of 
 Curtius Rufus must have been, in fact, little better than 
 a romance; but it was not till the mediaeval times, 
 which, in the migrations of the nations, and afterwards 
 in the Crusades, bore some resemblance to the age of 
 Alexander, that the Saga reached its full development. 
 
 All the experiences of the Crusaders, both in fact 
 and imagination, — lands teeming with wonders, expe- 
 ditions full of monstrous adventures, Paradise itself 
 regained on earth, — all this was transferred by Italians 
 and Frenchmen to Alexander the Great, and from those 
 countries the infection spread to Germany. The poem 
 of one Aubrey of Besan^on (in German "Alberich 
 von Bisenziin "), of which, as yet, we have no very ac- 
 curate knowledge, must have been the chief work on 
 the subject. It is quoted both by French and German 
 writers of the Alexandriner-legend, and also by the 
 author of the work before us, who lived in the twelfth 
 century. 
 
 This is written in Imperfectly rhymed couplets ; the 
 language is Middle-Low-German, with a tinge of High- 
 German about it. The style has little flexibility ; is 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 145 
 
 often abrupt and dry : still there is much in it that 
 savours of the old popular poetry. Here and there 
 its tone reminds us even of the alliterative poetry of the 
 " Hildebrands-lied," and " Beowulf," qualities which the 
 author could not have borrowed from his foreign ori- 
 ginal, but which must have been due to his own talents. 
 Thus it is related of Alexander, that in his earlier years 
 he showed his strength and courage, " and when any- 
 thing misliked him, he looked just like a wolf does, 
 when he stands over his prey;" and in one of the battles 
 with the Persians, " Alexander fights with the fierce- 
 ness of an angry bear, when attacked by the hounds." 
 Indeed, there is somewhat of the old heroic type dis- 
 cernible in all the numerous battles that occur. In 
 a duel (Einwig) between Alexander and Porus, the 
 combatants draw their swords, and spring upon each 
 other with the ferocity of forest boars. Jealousy (i. e. 
 desire for the mastery) is between them ; loud is the 
 clang of steel ; fire shoots from the shield-rims ; again 
 and again they dash to the fray ; sword cut and sword 
 thrust strike harness and helm ; and now the combat 
 becomes general ; the green meadows redden with the 
 blood of the slain; it fills the furrows, it rolls over into 
 the depths below. But another side of the Alexander 
 legend is here exhibited. In a supposed letter to Aris- 
 totle,- — ^a literary production, which, in the middle ages, 
 existed in almost every European language, — Alexander 
 describes the wonders which he encounters. This is 
 very felicitously done. The style is simple and popular, 
 and hence an interest attaches to the poem, which later 
 and more elaborate descriptions of the same topics can- 
 
 H 
 
146 GERMAN tlTEEATCEE. 
 
 not boast of. Thus, Alexander comes with his forces 
 into a dark wood, the lofty trees of which intertwine 
 their branches so as to exclude the sun's rays. Fresh 
 limpid rivulets run from the wood down into the val- 
 ley. Sweet song of birds sounds through the foliage, 
 and is re-echoed from the wooded shade. The ground 
 is covered with an incalculable multitude of unopened 
 flowers of marvellous size. The blossoms, which look 
 like great globes, are tinted with rose-colour and snow- 
 white ; suddenly they open, and from each perfumed 
 chalice issues a maiden of wondrous beauty. The 
 thousand little lovely creatures then raise a melodious 
 strain vying with the song of the birds ; and thus they 
 float, singing and dancing in the cool shade of the 
 forest. The children of the green shade and noiseless 
 solitude are pink and white, like the flowers whence 
 they spring. But the sun's scorching ray falls upon 
 them, they fade and die ; like the flowers which May 
 calls into life, and Autumn to death. 
 
 " Faded all the flowers, 
 All the maidens dead, 
 Leafless all the Ijowers, 
 
 All the joys have fled. 
 Birds have ceased their singing, 
 Founts no longer flow," 
 etc. 
 
 But with all these pretty descriptions there is also 
 
 no lack of grand and solemn thoughts. " AU is vanity, 
 
 and the greatest earthly grandeur must come to nought; 
 
 so sang Alberich," says the poet, " in the spirit of 
 
 Solomon, and so sing I." Alexander conquered the 
 
 world, he possessed all the wealth of Ind, and then he 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 147 
 
 arrived at Paradise, and thought to take it by storm also. 
 But it is not by force of arms, not by passion, that 
 Paradise is to be won ; he only is worthy of it who con- 
 quers himself. And so the conqueror of the world must 
 perforce turn back at the very threshold. Henceforth 
 he lived a life of moderation, left off war, flung away 
 ambition, and at last there remained to him 
 
 Of tbis earth but seven feet long, 
 Just like to the poorest man.* 
 
 This incident of Alexander being turned back at the 
 very gates of Paradise because he lacked humility, is re- 
 peated in all the later Alexander Sagas; indeed it still 
 lived in the memory of poets, and even of the people, 
 as late as the seventeenth century, when all that was 
 old and good disappeared. Gervinus gives a most 
 exaggerated estimate of the value of this poem. At 
 the same time it must be confessed that Lamprecht's 
 "Alexander," and the " Rolandslied," are the very best 
 works of the age now under consideration, and that they 
 surpass everything in the same walk of later times. 
 
 The only version of the tale of " .^neas" is that by 
 Heinrich von Veldekin, the Father of Middle-High- 
 German poetry. As hia name indicates, he was a 
 native of Lower Germany. The date of the composition 
 is between 1184 and 1188. As he cannot have had 
 
 * Lamprecht's "Alexander" has been edited by Massmann twice j 
 first in 1828, in " Denkmaler,'' pp. 1 6-75 ; then, 1837, in his " Gedichte 
 des 12 Jahrh." i. p. 64. A comprehensive edition of it, by H. Weismann 
 appeared iu 1850, "Alexander Gedicht des 12 Jahrh., &c. TJrtext und 
 Uebersetzung," &c., 2 vols. This lengthy work has not done much for 
 the furtherance of the Alexander literature. 
 
 h2 
 
148 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 access to the original— indeed, if he had, he would 
 hardly have been able to read it — he must have worked 
 after a foreign model. In this work, in which he 
 clothes Latin poetry in a German dress, he presents a 
 pattern of writing, sucn as remained exclusively in 
 fashion for more than 200 years ; rising in Wolfram 
 and Gottfried to its highest pitch, as the poetry of 
 thought and feeling: while in Konrad von Wurzburg, 
 who lived eighty years later, it becomes the ne plus 
 ultra of elegant versification. Afterwards it gradually 
 sunk ; until, in the time of the Reformation, this sort 
 of writing became extinct. 
 
 Veldekin was also a frequenter of the Thuringian 
 court on the Wartburg, of which he was the heart and 
 soul. From this point, as a centre, his influence as a 
 writer of court-romances and lyric tales of chivalry 
 spread with astonishing rapidity throughout Germany, 
 the South part of it especially. Omateness of style, 
 smoothness and finish of delineation, purity of language, 
 accurate versification, regularity and harmoniousness of 
 rhyme, such are his characteristics. And though he 
 cannot be called the inventor of all this, for it was 
 actually lying ready to hand, although people did not 
 know it, yet he was the first to give it expression and 
 utterance. Just in the same way that Opitz, 400 years 
 later — who, though no poetic genius any more than 
 was Veldekin, was a man of talent-^had the power of 
 saying cleverly the right thing at the right moment, 
 and thus of striking the chord of popular sympathy. 
 Kind feeling and naivete are the distinctive features 
 of Veldekin's " Eneit." It eschews great characters. 
 
• THE OLD PERIOD. 149 
 
 The modicum of the solid, the grand, the heroic, that 
 Virgil had retained in the " JEneid," has evaporated. 
 Popular traits are seldom, if ever, to be found.* 
 
 The versions of the Trojan war may be briefly men- 
 tioned. Numbers of them are still extant : one of these 
 is by Herbert, a Hessian, born at Fritzlar ; it is entitled 
 " Liet von Troje," and was written early in the thir- 
 teenth century. He also found a patron in the Land- 
 grave Hermann, who helped him to procure the original 
 from which he copied. Much of the old stiffness, which 
 the higher class of poets had got rid of, still clings to 
 his composition. But, on the other hand, he has still 
 much of that popular air which tip-top art-poetry had 
 managed to polish utterly away. The language, versi- 
 fication, and rhyme, are such as would not have passed 
 muster with the fastidious court poets. In fact, the 
 stamp of the Lower-Hessian dialect is vinmistakeably 
 impressed upon the poem ; a dialect hovering between 
 High- and Low-German.f 
 
 Konrad von Wurzburg, who died at Basel in 1287, 
 is a poet of a totally different sort. Elegance of lan- 
 guage, harmony of versification, copiousness of diction, 
 point him out as an imitator of Gottfried von Stras- 
 burg : and in him they reach perfection. But tropes, 
 phrases, and figures are often made to compensate for 
 qualities of a more substantial kind. "We shall have 
 occasion to revert to him hereafter. His " Trojan 
 War," which is unfinished, and is his last production, is 
 
 * Veldekin's "Eneit" was printed in Miiller's collection, 1784. 
 (Ettmulle 's is the last and best edition. — Editor.') 
 f "Herbert's von Fritzlar Lied von Troye," G. Frommann, 1837, 
 
150 GERMAN LITEHATUEE. 
 
 by no means his best. More than double the length of 
 "Parcivalj" which is 30,000 lines long, it of course 
 contains much that is superfluous. But what stamps 
 it as the work of a transition period is the exaggeration 
 of the descriptions. At one time these are overloaded 
 with ornament, at another they sink into coarseness and 
 common-place. * 
 
 The external form of poetry reached its highest per- 
 fection at the time when Konrad wrote, i. e. between 
 1240 and 1300. Rhyme, verse, diction, all the tech- 
 nical part of the art, was as high as it could be. But 
 the soul of poetry was wanting. The grand and the 
 genuine is succeeded by what is bastard and trivial. 
 Empty phraseology, and spiritless imitation, replace 
 feeling and originality. The colouring is glaring and 
 extravagant. In place of choosing simple subjects, the 
 poet grasps at the abstract, the learned, the remote : 
 and then, finding that his writings do not take with the 
 public, he complains of being neglected and misunder- 
 stood, of the stupidity of the age, of its indifference to 
 poetry in its highest sense. Complaints of this kind 
 are proof positive, were all other wanting, that the poet 
 who utters them lived after 1240, or at least 1250. 
 
 We now pass to the fifth and last group. Church 
 legends. The mass of these productions in the twelfth 
 and thirteenth century — not to mention in the four- 
 teenth and fifteenth — is almost without limit. 
 
 * Little more than half of Konrad's " Trojanerkrieg " was printed in 
 the third folume of MuUer, which is unfinished and rare. A portion of 
 the second half is printed in Mone's " Anzeiger," 1837, Sp. 267. Eonrad 
 himself left the work unfinished. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 151 
 
 Nearly all the saints in the calendar had their 
 respective legends ; from the Virgin Mary down to 
 Elizabeth of Hungary. In all these poetical legends 
 we must not look for a world of action and heroic enter- 
 prize ; a world of passion, love, and revenge ; for lofty 
 flights and exalted ideas; but for pure and pleasing 
 pictures of tranquil scenes, inspired by faith and devo- 
 tion. But if it is the essence of poetry to be absorbed 
 in the subject ; if real warmth of feeling, unaffectedly 
 expressed, is one of its chief ornaments ; if ardent soul- 
 drawn faith in the Invisible and Eternal is the soil that 
 has ever produced poetry's choicest flowers ; then these 
 simple pious legends will not fail to be appreciated as 
 they ought. The unadorned simplicity, the purity, the 
 tenderness, the humility of the Virgin Mary ; the 
 patient countenances of the martyrs, such as are to be 
 seen in the old breviaries ; all this could only have 
 been painted by the hand of one who felt what he was 
 about; who was imbued with the same spirit. Even 
 so it is with these poetic legends. The same spirit of 
 pious faith, reverence, and devotion dictated them. If 
 the popular romances, and the knightly epics of art- 
 poetry represent to us the expeditions and exploits of 
 the Crusaders, Church legendary poetry, in the same 
 way, is the song of the humble pilgrim with his 
 scallop-shell and his staff, bound on his lonely way 
 to Jerusalem, to kneel in prayer at the Holy Se- 
 pulchre; afterwards to return to his home, poor as 
 he went, though full of unspeakable comfort. If 
 knightly poetry is the poetry of worldly magnificence, 
 full of merriment, and music, and song, of dance and 
 
 h4 
 
152 GERMAN LITEEATUEB. 
 
 •festival; the poetry of earthly love for an earthly 
 bride; then the poetry of the Church legends is the 
 poetry of voluntary poverty, of the lonely cell and 
 quiet garden, of the monastery shut in by its lofty 
 walls ; it is the poetry of the brides of Heaven, who, 
 without plaint or regret, bid adieu to the world's joys 
 for a life of tranquil devotion. 
 
 With the Mother of God they approach the cross, 
 and a sword pierces their side also. With Saint Csscilia 
 they hear the angels playing ; with Holy Theresa they 
 wander through the glades of Paradise. Is Minne- 
 poetry the gentle homage paid to earthly loveliness and 
 grace ; then is Church-legendary poetry the homage 
 paid to the Virgin-Mother of God ; it is the love of 
 this world refined and spiritualized into a love that is 
 heavenly, and that fadeth not away. For it must be 
 remembered that at this same period, when woman was 
 the object of a worship, such as has never been paid to 
 her before or since, the Virgin was also adored most 
 deeply, simply, and truly. 
 
 If we could for a moment imagine to ourselves the 
 child-like poetic faith of those days, before the reverence 
 for the Virgin Mary and the Saints had settled into a 
 regular worship, and undergone that debasement and ex- 
 aggeration which caused the reaction of theEeformation, 
 then we should be enabled to form a true estimate of 
 the poetry now under consideration. We should see 
 that it was a necessary part of the poetic wreath of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 Of these legends, all of which are derived from the 
 Apocryphal Gospels, we shall select a few instances. 
 
THE OLD TEEIOD, 153 
 
 The twelfth century, the period preceding the one 
 ■which we are now describing, produced several ex- 
 amples. One of the oldest is a song in honour of 
 the Virgin Mary, composed by Werner, a monk of 
 Tegernsee, in Bavaria, in the year 1173. A part of it 
 is still extant in the author's own handwriting. Some- 
 what later it was altered in shape, appearing in three 
 parts.* There is a staid and severe air about this poem 
 which places it in a favourable contrast with many of 
 the later legends. When the Virgin is born " the 
 enmity between God and man is removed. Men are 
 invited to the table of God, to the living bread, which 
 saves the soul in time of need. Man became the asso- 
 ciate of angels. Honey and milk flowed out of the 
 earth. God blessed the world, and rained help from 
 Heaven. When God shone upon all, then came the 
 vine ; the true turtle-dove was heard everywhere. 
 The day when she was born is blessed by all the folk ; 
 who long with God's bride to rise above their sins, and 
 serve under his banner." 
 
 " A Litany to all the Saints " is in the same style, 
 and of the same date. There is a good deal of genuine 
 enthusiasm about it, expressed with force and dignity. 
 It begins with an invocation to Christ. " Thou'rt 
 called Wisdom's-fount, the key of compassion, comforter 
 of the poor, lover of pure hearts, way to eternal life, 
 chief-stone of Heaven's stair ; thou defendest, thou re- 
 
 * Werner von Tegernsee died 1197. The older fragment is in Doeen's 
 "Miscell."ii. 103, and in Hoffmann's" Fundgr."ii. 213. The new version 
 was published 1802 by Oetter, and 1837 by Hoffmann (Jundgr. ii. 145). 
 A specimen of Werner's non-religioas poetry occurs below. 
 
 h5 
 
154 GERMAN LITEKATUKE. 
 
 deemest, thou burnest and coolest, thou moistenest and 
 parchest, thou shuttest and openest, thou stayest and 
 goest, thou strengthenest and makest afraid, thou freest 
 and preservest, thou quickenest and nourishest, thou 
 lullest to sleep and awakeaest, thou hidest and thou 
 makest known ; rain down these thy spiritual gifts upon 
 our dry hearts, that we may bring forth rich and eternal 
 fruit." After invoking the Virgin, the Archangels, 
 John the Baptist, and the Apostles, the poem thus pro- 
 ceeds : — " Sweet champion of all God's martyrs, who 
 liftedst the banner first, and borest it away to martyr- 
 dom, when thou wert stoned to death ; free us. Holy 
 Stephen, from all our troubles ; and thou. Saint Lau- 
 rentius, who wert roasted on the gridiron, come and 
 comfort us. With you will we fight the spiritual 
 fight ; with you win the spiritual victory. You carried 
 the cross before us that we should follow in your 
 footsteps." * 
 
 The best known of the legends in honour of the 
 Holy Family is one written by a Carthusian monk, 
 Bruder Philip, in the middle of the thirteenth century. 
 It was copied and re-written numbers of times, and 
 continued to be read till the sixteenth century. Its 
 simple, unpretending, and hearty manner make the best 
 parts of it very interesting.f 
 
 * The "Litanei aller Heiligen," the author of which calls himself 
 Heinrich, in the older version, is printed in the older form from a MS. 
 of the twelfth century in Hoffmann's "Fundgr." ii. 216; in a later form 
 from a Strashurg MS. in Massmann's " Gedichte des 12 Jarh." i. p. 43. 
 
 ■j- Brother Philip's " Leben der Heiligen Familie " (" Marienlehen ") 
 was published by Kiickert, Breslau, 1853. The subject-matter and 
 extracts are in Docen's " Miscellaneen," 1807, ii. 66. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 155 
 
 "Die Kindheit unseres Herrn," by Konrad von 
 Fussesbrunnen, written at the beginning of the thir- 
 teenth century, is the best poem of the sort. It was 
 long known by name, but it was only lately that the 
 poem itself was discovered and printed.* Konrad von 
 Wiirzburg's " Goldene Schmiede," — a glorification of 
 the Virgin, — is perhaps the most perfect of his works. 
 Herein he represents himself as a smith, who makes of 
 gold and precious stones the adornment of the Empress 
 of Heaven. " Could I in the smithy of my heart," he 
 says in the opening, " forge a poem of gold, with lumi- 
 nous thoughts like carbuncles set therein, then would I 
 write a brilliant eulogy in thy honour. But even if my 
 speech could soar aloft, as if borne on eagles' wings, it 
 never could reach to the level of thy praise. Sooner 
 could marble and precious stones be bored by a straw, 
 or the diamond by soft lead, than I could glorify thee as 
 thou deserves! When the stars have been numbered, 
 and the motes in the sunbeam, and the sand, and the 
 leaves, then, and not till then, will thy praises be meetly 
 sung." The poet then launches forth into a set of most 
 exalted encomiums of the Virgin-Mother. Many of the 
 images are borrowed from Holy writ ; and, in fact, had, 
 before Konrad's time, been referred to the Virgin by 
 German poetical writers. Such, for instance, as Aaron's 
 rod and Gideon's fleece. So that Konrad's merit does 
 not consist so much in originality, as in putting these 
 figures into a brilliant and highly poetical form. A 
 collection of these figures from Konrad and others has 
 
 * Konrad von Pussesbrunnen's poem is printed in Hahn's " Gediohte 
 der 12 und 13 Jarh." 1840, p. 67. 
 
 h6 
 
156 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 been prefixed by W. Grimm to bis new edition of tlie 
 " Goldene Schmiede." For 200 years Konrad's poem 
 ■was in great celebrity, and was an object of wonder and 
 imitation to most of the succeeding writers on the same 
 theme. 
 
 Among the vast mass of legends on single saints may 
 be mentioned " Der Heilige Gregor auf dem Steine," 
 written by Hartmaun, after his "Erec," and before 
 his " Iwein ; " where his talents as a narrator are 
 shown to the best advantage. The story, which used 
 to be read out in the churches until the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, is briefly this: — Gregory unwittingly married 
 his own mother, and, to atone for the error, caused 
 himself to be chained for seventeen years to a solitary 
 rock in the ocean. At the expiration of this period it 
 was revealed to the Romans that there was nobody 
 among them worthy to fill the Papal stool, then 
 vacant ; but there was a man who had sat on a rock 
 these seventeen years as an expiation for involuntary 
 sin ; — him they must choose. He is brought to Rome 
 accordingly, and not only he, but his father and mother, 
 who were brother and sister, obtain pardon of their 
 sins. Sinners therefore must learn from this history, 
 that pardon is vouchsafed to those only who are truly 
 penitent.* Rudolf von Ems's poem on the conversion 
 of the heathen king, Barlaam, by a Christian youth. 
 
 * " Gregor auf dem Steine " was first published by Greith, " Spicile- 
 gium Vaticanum," 1838, p. 180; then by Lachmann, 1838, in a complete 
 shape. The legend is also in Koberger's " Passional" (1488), and in the 
 "Postill und Ewangely Buoeh'' (Basel, 1514), as a commentary on the 
 Gospel of the 1 7th Sunday after Trinity. Bl. 222 c. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOO. 157 
 
 Josaphat by name, is also remarkable for genial nar- 
 ration. This legend, which has appeared in all lan- 
 guages, may be adduced as a model of legend-writing 
 in detail, during the best period. Its date is between 
 1230 and 1240.* 
 
 Two other legends exemplify Konrad von Wiirz- 
 burg's brilliancy of language and fullness of descrip- 
 tion. One is " Saint Sylvester," who, by the power 
 of Christ, brought a wild steer to life again, which 
 the Jewish leader had killed by the mention of 
 Jehovah's name; upon which the Jews, and also 
 Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine, embrace 
 Christianlty.f The other is the legend of " Saint 
 Alexius," which appeared in no less than eight versions. 
 The simple form, however, in which it was produced 
 by some unknown poet of the first half of the thirteenth 
 century, is preferable to the more elaborate work of 
 Konrad.l 
 
 Alexius, the son of Euphemianus, a distinguished 
 Roman, at the time of Theodosius the Great, marries 
 a noble virgin, Adriatica by name. On the evening 
 of the festal day, when the music and rejoicings are 
 at their height, Alexius looks at a taper which 
 
 * Eudolf 's " Barlaam und Josaphat " was published by Kopke, 1818, 
 and with correcter text, 1843, by F. Pfeiffer. There are also two other 
 German poetical versions of this legend, one by a certain Bishop Otto. 
 The first composition of it is ascribed usually to Johannes Damascenus, 
 in the eighth century. 
 
 t Konrad von Wiirzburg's " Sylvester," von Wilhelm Grimm, Got- 
 tingen, 1841. 
 
 J " Sanct Alexius Leben in acht gereimten Mittel-hoch-deutschen 
 Behandlungen, nebst geschiohtlicher Einleitung so wie deutschen, griech. 
 und latein. Anhangea." H. Massmann, 1843. 
 
158 GEEMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 stands near, and thinks of the nothingness of all sub- 
 lunary things. " See," says he, looking towards his 
 blooming bride, " See, Adriatica, how brightly it burns, 
 and yet it will soon be burnt out. So it is with the 
 world, old and young soon return to dust, Man is a 
 shadow that soon vanishes — a flower which quickly 
 fades. Therefore will we take refuge from the world, 
 think of our souls, and renounce these transitory joys." 
 Hereupon he takes off the golden ring and gives it 
 back to the bride. " God will preserve thee on the 
 way," is the pious bride's reply. "I will continue true 
 to thee for ever and aye." Alexius departs, while 
 Adriatica falls into a swoon. Arrived at Pisa, he 
 changes his goodly robes for the habit of a beggar, and 
 suffers all sorts of privations of his own accord, till his 
 bright face grows pale and squalid, and his rich locks 
 thin ; and no one recognised him. The messengers 
 despatched by his father in quest of him, see him 
 among the crowd of mendicants and give him alms, 
 without knowing who he is. He next journeys to 
 Edessa, and from thence to Jerusalem, sojourning for 
 twelve years in the Holy Land. Meantime his parents 
 sit upon the ground and mourn for their son. His bride, 
 like a forlorn turtle-dove, laments her lover. Alexius 
 returns to Lucca, and sits thirsty and a-hungered 
 before an image of the Redeemer. The verger of the 
 church meanwhile is informed, by a voice from heaven, 
 that a poor man lies without, in- prayer, whom God 
 has need of. He must, therefore, lead him inside. On 
 the entry of Alexius all the church bells in the city 
 commence ringing. People flock together from all 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 159 
 
 quarters, and on learning what has happened, continue 
 praising God all night. Alexius, shrinking from the 
 honour in store for him, gets on board a ship sailing 
 to Africa. But God disposes it otherwise, and the 
 vessel is carried by a storm to Rome. Here he comes 
 to his father's palace, and solicits alms. A pallet is 
 laid for the beggar under the stairs. The servants 
 throw hot broth on him as they pass, but he endures it 
 all with patience. It was hard, forsooth, to see his 
 father and mother pass by daily ; harder still to see his 
 bride, and hear her inquiries after Alexius. He tells 
 how that he once knew Alexius; how constant and 
 true he was. " And did he think of me ?" inquires the 
 bride. " Oh, yes ; he thought of the ring he gave thee 
 at parting, and how sad you were. And he thought of 
 his father and mother, and then his heart was fulL 
 But he resigned all for the sake of eternal life." " Did 
 he ever think to return ?" she asks. " That I never 
 could learn," is the answer. "Did he ever regret what 
 he had done ?" " Never." Thus they talked with one 
 another day by day, and the sweet sorrow of the 
 faithful bride was renewed each time they talked. But 
 his voluntary sufferings at last came to an end. Alexius 
 wrote on a parchment an account of his life and adven- 
 tures, and so died with the document in his hand. At 
 the same instant all the bells of the Lateran and the 
 rest of the churches in. Rome began ringing. God was 
 the ringer. It is revealed that the saint is lying dead 
 in the house of Euphemianus. Euphemianus discovers 
 the corpse ; the countenance is radiant with angelic 
 light. In his hand he clutches the parchment. The 
 
160 GERMAN LITERATUUE. 
 
 father, the two Emperors, Arcadius and Honorius, the 
 Pope himself, all fail to disengage it from the dead 
 man's grasp. Upon this A driatica approaches, weeping, 
 and the hand immediately relaxes its hold. 
 
 The lamentations which follow the discovery are even- 
 tually brought to an end by the Pope. The corpse is 
 conveyed to the minster, and all sorts of wonders are 
 performed at the coffin. 
 
 The father, who dies two years later, is buried on 
 one side of the coffin, the mother on the other. Last 
 of all, Adriatica dies also, and, at her request, her 
 remains are consigned to the same coffin as her lover, 
 the dust moving itself to make way for her virgin 
 body. 
 
 Another poem, the style of which is pure and lan- 
 guage good, hymns the praises of Saint Elizabeth, the 
 most renowned saint of the middle ages. Every line of 
 it is instinct with the love and devotion of the writer. 
 This legend, which remained for a long time unknown, 
 is in six books. It must not be confounded with a 
 miserable doggerel on the same subject, written one 
 hundred years later. No work could possibly give us 
 a better notion of the thoughts and feelings of that 
 period than this does. The saint herself is done to the 
 life. We see her kneeling in prayer while the Holy 
 Communion Is being administered. " Exalted by love, 
 floating in rapture, steeped in joy, surrounded by gloryj" 
 her bliss is ineffable. With the inward eye she has seen 
 the wonders of the Godhead. She next slumbers on 
 the lap of her female friend Isentrut. In her sleep she 
 smiles and weeps alternately; and on awaking exclaims, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. l6l 
 
 '* Yes, Lord, Thou wilt be with me and I wltli Theei 
 for ever." Being questioned, she states that she has 
 seen the Lord Jesus in the spirit. When that compas- 
 sionate countenance looked on her she smiled ; when it 
 was turned away she wept. And then he asked whether 
 she would abide with him for ever. And she said, 
 " Yea, Lord, for ever and ever. Never will I leave or 
 forsake Thee." 
 
 Celestial music is heard when she dies ; her remains 
 are carried to the tomb by emperors and princes, because 
 in this life she despised worldly honours. All this, 
 together with her exaltation to Heaven and canoniza- 
 tion, is excellently described.* 
 
 With the exception of a fragment of a poem on Saint 
 George, written in the ninth centuryf, the legend of 
 " Pilatus" may be considered one of the earliest that 
 appeared in a German version. In style it resembles 
 Wernher's " Mary," and the " Litany of All Saints, " 
 mentioned above. The date of these poems is the same, 
 viz., pretty early in the preparatory period, 1150-1190. 
 The peculiarity of this composition is the odd mixture 
 of Christian, German, and perhaps Celtic elements. 
 
 The tale runs thus. At Mayence there was a Ger- 
 man king, Tyrus or Zirus by name, who ruled over the 
 
 * Extracts from " Saint Elizabeth" are printed in Graff's "Diutiska,'' 
 i. 343, seq. The poem was composed after the year 1297, for the death 
 of Elizabeth's second (third) daughter, the nun of Altenhurg, is men- 
 tioned, and this occurred August 13, 1297. 
 
 f The oldest version of the legend of Saint George is a Leich, printed 
 in Hoffmann's "Fundgr." i. p. 10. Another version, dating 1231-1253, 
 by Reinbot von Durne, is printed, bnt in debased language, in Hagen 
 and Biisching's " Gedichte des Mittelalters," 1 vol. 
 
162 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 region of the Meuse, the Khine, and the Main. This 
 king had an illegitimate son, Pilatus, by the daughter 
 of a poor miller. Pilatus, after killing his brother, who 
 was the lawful heir to the throne, was sent by his father 
 as a hostage to Kome. Here he committed a second 
 murder, and was now sent to Pontus (so Pontius is 
 written in the old Saxon " Harmony of the Gospels "), 
 where he conquers the barbarians of the country, and is 
 in consequence selected to subjugate the Jews. The 
 fragment here breaks off, but the sequel of the legend 
 is this. After the death of our Saviour, Pilatus, being 
 summoned to Rome on account of his unjust sentence, 
 committed suicide, and his body was thrown into the 
 Tiber. A great inundation was the consequence. The 
 body was therefore taken out of the Tiber and cast into 
 the Rhone. But the evil spirit of the murderer of Christ 
 could not rest; so to prevent disaster the body was 
 again taken out and put into the lake on Mount Pilatus, 
 in Switzerland. Here it will lie till the judgment -day. 
 Whenever anything is cast into the lake, he lashes it 
 into fury; and it is he that breeds the storms that 
 descend from the mountain. It is not improbable that 
 we owe this mixing up of Pilate with transactions in 
 Germany, be they historical or mythic, to the twenty- 
 second Roman Legion, which was stationed in Pales- 
 tine at the time of the destruction of Jerusalem, but 
 soon after changed its quarters to Mayence. 
 
 With this legion the first Christians possibly arrived 
 in Germany, and in the cruel king's son, who perhaps 
 bore a similar name, they recalled the infamous Pilate 
 of Palestine. His end, however, reminds us of the 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 163 
 
 water sprites of the Celtic sagas.* The legend of 
 " Saint Oswald" is similarly mixed up with stories of the 
 mythic world and of old national heroes.f While the 
 accounts of Saint Brandanus and his travels, like the 
 Saga of " Duke Ernst," bear a strong resemblance to 
 mediaaval fairy tales4 
 
 Still more remarkable is the way in which the 
 Chi-istian legend, entitled " Der ungenahete Eock 
 Christi (the seamless Coat of Christ),'' which is said to 
 have been discovered at Treves in 1512, attached Itself 
 as far back, perhaps, as the twelfth century to the oldest 
 heroic Saga of Germany. This Saga has no connexion 
 with any other Saga, and has therefore not yet been 
 mentioned. The legend in question, the style of which 
 combines the stiffness of the twelfth century with the 
 uncouthness of the fifteenth century §, relates how the 
 Grey Coat of Christ became the property of one King 
 Orendel and his wife Breida. How that the said Oren- 
 del left his father. King Eigel of Treves, went on a sea- 
 
 » The legend of " Pilate '' is in Mone's "Anzeiger," 1835, Sp. 434. 
 Massmann's " Ged. des 12 Jarh." 145. 
 
 t The legend of " Saint Oswald," by a strolling minstrel of the twelfth 
 century, was published by EttmuUer, 1835. On the connexion between 
 this description and the heroic legends " Orendel," " Traugmund," &c., 
 see Mone's " Anzeiger," 1835, Sp. 414. A later version is in Haupt's 
 " Zeitschrift," ii. 92. 
 
 J See a subsequent note respecting " Saint Brandanus." 
 
 § The original version, dating from the twelfth century, and, like 
 " Saint Oswald," and " Salomo and Morolf," composed by a stroller, was 
 published, 1844, by V. d. Hagen ; "Der ungenahte graue Eock Christi ; 
 wie Konig Orendel ihn erwirbt, darin Frau Breiden und das heilige 
 Grab gewinnt und ihn nach Trier bringt," &c. It was printed from the 
 unique MS. collated with the old Augsburg edition of 1512, which last 
 is preferable to the MS. A translation of the old poem was published 
 by Simrock, 1845 ; "Der ungenahte Eock," &c. 
 
164 GERMAN LITEEATUEB. 
 
 Voyage, suffered shipwreck, and saved himself on a 
 plank. After which he was sheltered by one Master 
 Eisen, a fisherman, became possessed of the coat and 
 also of Breida, the most beautiful of women, and re- 
 turned to Treves. Shortly after which he died, as was 
 foretold by an angel. Now in the " Heldenbuch " 
 mention is made of a certain hero and king at Treves, 
 Erntelle, together with his wife Brigita, and who was the 
 oldest hero that ever was. Aventinus, likewise, in his 
 chronicle, mentions one Herold, a bishop and king, or 
 high-priest at Treves, and his wife Pyrga. His father's 
 name was Eigel, a name perpetuated in the Eigel- 
 Stones of the Rhine and Moselle to the present day. 
 In the Northern Mythology we also meet with Or- 
 vandil (Orendel), whose toe was thrown by Thor up to 
 Heaven, where it became a star. " Eearendel " is the 
 Anglo-Saxon term for a glittering star. 
 
 Arundel, therefore, or, as it may originally have 
 been written, Aruwentil, must signify the Arrow- 
 shooter; all which indicates that we have before us 
 a very ancient mythic personage. Nay, this probably 
 explains the story of Tacitus in his " Germania," that 
 Ulysses and his father Laertes once came to the Rhine 
 and built Asciburgium, where an altar once stood in- 
 scribed with the name of Laertes. Now if Tacitus, — 
 who considered "Wuotan to correspond to Mercury, 
 and Donar to Jupiter, — ^had ever got to hear of this 
 Aruwentil and his father Eigil, he would very likely 
 identify them with Ulysses and Laertes, and look 
 upon the Eigel-stones as altars of Laertes; unless, 
 perhaps, the conjecture may be hazarded that the 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 165 
 
 legend of Ulysses was at home in Germany quite as 
 much as it was in Greece.* 
 
 Having now finished our brief survey of the several 
 groups of art-epic, we shall touch upon the isolated 
 stories not connected with any one of these groups in 
 particular. Some of these are after the fashion of the 
 sacred legends, or Biblical stories. Others are not sacred, 
 but profane in character, although with a few exceptions 
 written in a grave style ; while past and present, legend 
 and history, or the poet's own fancy, in turn supply 
 the subject-matter. They were, for the most part, to 
 the thirteenth century what romances and novels are 
 to the nineteenth. There is no rich legendary back- 
 ground to lend an interest to the story. The hero is 
 quite detached from the traditional figures of the popu- 
 lar romances. The consequence is that their poetic 
 value, for the most part, depends not on the matter, 
 but on the power of the individual writer in each 
 instance. This became essentially the case in the 
 second half of the thirteenth century. The poet was 
 everything, the material nothing, Literary history be- 
 comes thenceforward less a history of art than of books. 
 
 The "Annolied" is a piece written about 1170 in 
 short-rhymed couplets. ' It describes the life and ex- 
 ploits of Anno, Archbishop of Cologne, from 1045 to 
 
 * Respecting Orendel (Oervandil, Aruwentil), see J. Grimm's 
 " Deutsche Mythologie," i. 347. Only that Wendel, cited by Grimm 
 (lb. p. 349) from Mathesius (so also Sirarock, p. xvii.), has nothing 
 to do with Oer-yandil (Aruwentil). Mathesius alludes to S. Wendelinus, 
 the patron Saint of Shepherds. 
 
166 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 1075. Interspersed with these are poetical descrip- 
 tions of notable events in Biblical and profane history. 
 Among other personages, Julius Caesar is introduced. 
 Many passages are in the genuine popular vein, and 
 admirably done. The commencement, for instance, is 
 derived word for word from the old heroic songs, and 
 most likely refers to the " Nibelungenlied." Another 
 passage, descriptive of the Battle of Pharsalia, resem- 
 bles parts of Lamprecht's "Alexander," and has the 
 very air of an ancient war-song. " Caesar sends for 
 aid to the warriors of the German land ; and when they 
 knew his will, they assembled in great numbers from 
 Gallia and Germania, with shining helmets, and strong 
 hauberks and shields. Like a flood they poured upon 
 the land ; and as they approached Rome, Pompey and 
 the Senate became alarmed, and fled to Egypt. Who 
 can enumerate the hosts that hastened from the East to 
 fight with Csesar. They were like the snow falling on 
 the Alps, like the hail rushing from the clouds. Csesar 
 advanced with inferior numbers, and then there was 
 such a battle as never was seen in this world," (meri- 
 garto, i. e., the world surrounded by the sea). " Ha ! 
 how the weapons clanged when the warriors met ; the 
 horns bellowed, blood-streams flowed (herehorn duzzin, 
 beche blutis vluzzin). The earth rumbled and the 
 abyss trembled, when the mightiest of this world 
 charged each other with the sword. There lay many 
 a heap bathed in gore. There you might see Pompey's 
 warriors die, cloven to the brain, when Caesar won the 
 victory." So again, when Anno, before his end, dreams 
 that he is going to Heaven, and fancies that he comes 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 167 
 
 into a noble hall, hung with gold. " Many a gem 
 blazed everywhere ; song and manifold joy was there. 
 There sat bishops shining like stars. Bishop Bardo was 
 one, and Bishop Arnold, and Saint Heribert gleamed 
 like gold ; all of one life, all of one mind. And one 
 stool is vacant ; this is for Anno ; here he soon will sit, 
 as soon as the spot of mortality has been wiped out." 
 M. Opitz's last work was an edition of this poem, 
 which appeared a few weeks before his death of the 
 plague in 1639. The old MS., the only one in ex- 
 istence, was burnt, together with his papers. 
 
 The " Kaiserchronik " was nearly contemporaneous 
 with the " Annolied." It contains many passages which 
 are also to be found in the " Annolied." How this came 
 about is not ascertained. In this remarkable work, of 
 which many versions appeared in the thirteenth century, 
 we have a sort of legendary account of the most notable 
 saints jumbled up together with profane history. The 
 whole, however, is generally done in a good old poetic 
 style.* 
 
 * This has appeared in two editions; first, Massmann's "Der Keiser 
 nnd der Kunige buoch oder die sogen. Kaiserchronik. Ged. des 12 
 Jahrh. von 18,578 Eeimzeilen nach 12 Tollstandigen und 17 unvolls. 
 Handschriften nebst Worterbuch," in three volumes. Also "Die 
 Kaiserchronik nach der altesten Handschrift des Stiftes Vorau," by 
 Joseph Diemer. In the oldest MSS. it goes back to the year 1147, and 
 must have been -written in this form not later than 1 1 60. A later version 
 brings the work down to the death of Frederick 11., and another to 
 Kudolf of Hapsburg. 
 
 The "Annolied" is in the editions of Opitz's works, published by 
 Fellgibel; also in that by Sodmer and Breiting, 1745, p. 179. It is 
 wanting in the Frankfort and Amsterdam editions; an independent 
 edition appeared in 1848, " Maere von Sente Annen " von Dr. Bezzen- 
 berger. 
 
168 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 Rudolf von Ems, a prolific writer already mentioned, 
 who lived just at the end of the best period, composed 
 a similar work, which stood in even higher repute. 
 This was done for Konrad IV., and contained all the 
 Old Testament history down to Solomon, when the 
 author's death prevented its completion. The style is 
 after Gottfried von Strasburg, and is simple and grace- 
 ful ; sometimes too pleasing and courtly for the great- 
 ness of the theme. With this work Rudolf combined a 
 history of heathen nations, whence the name " Welt- 
 chronik " given to the whole.* Rudolf's superior powers 
 as a poet become best apparent by comparing this poem 
 with a similar work by Johann Enikel, an Austrian by 
 birth, or with a stiff and tasteless imitation of Rudolf 
 by some anonymous writer, living about the same time 
 at the Thuringian court. ^f Rudolf's " Weltchronik " 
 likewise merits notice as having been, down to 
 Luther's time, the only source from which the laity 
 obtained a knowledge of Old Testament history. 
 
 We shall now pass on to mention a few of the very 
 numerous smaller sacred stories. 
 
 "Kaiser Heraclius," was written upon a foreign model 
 by a certain Otto about the middle of the thirteenth 
 century or a little later, but not, as Massmann its editor 
 
 * Rudolf's "Weltchronik" is not yet printed, for the text of the 
 edition of Schiitze, 1779 and 17S1, under the title of "Die Histor. 
 Biicher des alten Testaments," is altogether corrupt. Extracts from the 
 genuine Tprork arc in Graff's "Diutiska," i. 47-72; from the spurious 
 and anonymous TPOrk in Docen's " Misc." ii. 39 ; and from both in Vil- 
 mar's " Die zwei Eecensionen und die Handschriften-familien der Welt- 
 chronik, Rudolfs von Ems," 1839. 
 
 * Enikel's (Enenkel's) work is not yet printed. Extracts in Docen's 
 " Misc." ii. 160. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 169 
 
 oddly enough conjectures, by Otto von Freising, In the 
 twelfth century. This poem is distinguished for its 
 purity and fluency of diction.* The fable is as follows : 
 Heraclius, the son of rich parents, is gifted from his 
 birth with the faculty of discerning the hidden power 
 of stones, the value of horses, and the inmost thoughts 
 and secret actions of women. After his father's death, 
 his mother, with his consent, gives all her goods to the 
 poor, and is reduced thereby to penury. The infant 
 phenomenon himself becomes a slave. Eventually he 
 is purchased by an Imperial chamberlain, and gives 
 proofs of his wonderful powers in the presence of the 
 Emperor. From among many thousand stones and 
 horses, he selects what appears to be the most worth- 
 less stone and most worthless horse, and enacts with 
 these such marvels as stone or horse never enacted 
 before. He then, to the dismay of the many beautiful 
 and high-born dames who thronged the court, selects 
 as a wife for the Emperor, a low-born damsel. It is 
 true she was very beautiful, but she was more, she 
 was chaste, — a quality which the others wanted, as 
 Heraclius well knew by the magic power which he 
 possessed. For many years the Emperor, whose name is 
 Phocas, lives on the happiest terms witli his Athenais. 
 At last, before going out to war, he determines, con- 
 trary to the advice of Heraclius, to immure her, during 
 his absence, in a tower. This over-carefulness leads to 
 a similar catastrophe with that in " Tristan " and other 
 
 • " Eraclius Detitsches und Franzosisches Ged. des 12 Jahrh. jenes 
 von Otto, dieses von Gautier von Arras." Massmann, 1842, edited for 
 t he first time. 
 
 I 
 
170 GEEMAN lilTBEATUEE. 
 
 poems. The lady is piqued, and by the aid of an old 
 woman, called Morphea, dishonours her husband. All 
 this is narrated in the fashion of Gottfried, and with 
 much of his ornament. ' On the return of the Emperor 
 with Heraclius from the expedition, the lynx-eyed seer 
 finds her out at once. She is made to do penance, and 
 by the advice of Heraclius, who lays the blame on the 
 Emperor himself, she is divorced and married to her 
 lover. After this signal proof of his wisdom, Heraclius 
 becomes more famous than ever ; till at last he is made 
 Emperor. After this, he recovers, in a dreadful war, the 
 Holy Rood, which had been carried off by the Persians ; 
 an event which the Romish church stUl commemorates 
 at the festival of the Elevation of the Cross. The first 
 half of this story — which is thus mixed up with the well- 
 known legend of the elevation of the Cross — is borrowed 
 from the far nobler story of "Crescentia,"* which belongs 
 to the twelfth century. In this, Crescentia is entrusted 
 by her husband, during his absence at the wars, to his 
 brother. This brother tempts her to break her marriage 
 vows ; but she resists his base proposals, and manages 
 to shut him up in a tower. The wretch maligns her 
 to her husband on his return, who spurns her from 
 him. She endures much misery without complaint, 
 until her innocence is established, and she becomes a 
 saint in consequence. This tale is the foundation of 
 many others of similar import, e. g., " Griseldis." 
 
 * The oldest form of " Crescentia '' is to be found in the " Kaiser, 
 chronik." A version of the thirteenth century is in "Mailath und 
 JiofiSnger Coloczaer Codex Altdeutscher Gedichte,'' 1817, p. 245. A 
 prose version in " Haupt und Hof&nann's altdeutsche Blatter," i. 300. 
 
THE OLD PEKIODi 171 
 
 • This mixture of the sacred and the profane in Hera- 
 clius is a proof of the gradual secularisation of eccle- 
 siastical life. Hartmann von der Aue's poem " Der 
 arme Heinrich," which he wrote at the close of the 
 twelfth century* , is a pious or moral poem in the best 
 sense, though it has nothing of the legend about it. 
 From the twelfth to the sixteenth century, Europe was 
 visited by the plague of leprosy, and the extent of its 
 ravages may be guessed from the many hospitals for 
 lepers still existing in the outskirts of German towns. 
 Many superstitions prevailed in respect to this disease; 
 one of which was that it could only be cured by the 
 blood of a virgin, who gave herself up as a voluntary 
 sacrifice. Upon this half-heathen superstition is based 
 Hartmann's delightful story. A rich man, blessed with 
 every human happiness, falls sick of the disorder, and 
 suffers all the tortures of Job. But unlike Job, instead 
 of being patient, he curses the day and hour that he 
 was born. The doctors of Salerno, in Italy, to which 
 city he repaired for advice, could do him no good. The 
 only means of cure they were able to suggest was 
 that mentioned above. But of what use was their 
 suggestion ? For where could a virgin be found who 
 would sacrifice herself for one smitten with leprosy? 
 Poor Heinrich returns to his home in Suabia, sorrowful 
 and dejected, gives up his possessions, and retires to a 
 lone farm-house. The farmer's daughter, a girl of 
 
 * Hartmann's "Anuer Heinrich" is one of the Middle-High-German 
 poems that have been most frequently edited, e. g. in " Miiller's Col- 
 lection," vol. i.i then in 1815, by the Grimms; afterwards hy Lach- 
 mann; by Wackernagel, 1842; by TV. MiilZer, with glossary; and by 
 Haupt; and translated by Simrock, 1830. 
 
 I 2 
 
172 GERMAN LITEEATUBE. 
 
 twelve years, touched with compassion at his sufferings, 
 nurses him just as if he were clean, and not an object of 
 loathing to all the world. After some time she hears 
 of the one only method by which he could be cured, 
 and straightway the idea seizes her that it is she who 
 is to effect the cure. In the stillness of the night the 
 young creature weeps as she broods over this idea; and 
 her readiness to die, her ardent longing to give relief to 
 the sick person, the firmness with which she adheres 
 to her resolve, in spite of the entreaties of her parents 
 and the patient, who at first looks upon it as a mere 
 girlish freak ; all this is admirably described. She sets 
 out in company with her sick master to Salerno, does 
 not flinch for a moment under the cross-examination of 
 the physician, who wants to make out that she is acting 
 under intimidation ; nor yet at the sight of the knife 
 which is whetted before her eyes. The pure disinte- 
 rested affection of a devoted female heart could not 
 possibly be described more touchingly and truly than it 
 is here by Hartmann. At last, just at the very moment 
 when the maiden is about to be slaughtered, Heinrich, 
 melted by her exceeding goodness, ceases to be so 
 anxious for his cure, yields to the will of God, and 
 humbly takes his sickness as a dispensation of the Al- 
 mighty. At his request, the physician desists from the 
 deadly operation, while he returns home in company 
 with the damsel, whose only grief is that she has not 
 been permitted to fall a sacrifice. And lo ! now that he 
 has humbled himself before God, his leprosy is taken 
 away. In the end the maiden becomes the wife of him, 
 whom she had thus saved bodily as well as spiritually. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 173 
 
 Eudolph von Ems's "Der gute Gerhard/' which after 
 baving been long supposed to be lost, has lately turned 
 up, is a poem of similar tendency, though more secular 
 in form.* The Emperor, Otho the Eed, according to the 
 story, was a wise and just emperor, and his wife Otto- 
 gebe, a kind-hearted lady, who moves her husband to 
 spend his wealth in pious objects, and among other 
 things, to found the bishopric of Magdeburgh. The 
 story, by the way, confounds Otho the Great with his 
 son Otho II., called the Eed, from the colour of his 
 hair. The Emperor, however, becomes vainly puffed at 
 the thought of what good he has done, and parades 
 his own merits before the Almighty; whereupon it is 
 revealed to him that God will no more regard his offer- 
 ings. Temporal honour he may have, but spiritual and 
 eternal glory shall never be his. He ought to have 
 acted like the Good Gerhard, a simple merchant at 
 Cologne, whose name, though he was no prince, was 
 written down in the book of the living. Upon this 
 the Emperor sets out for Cologne to see this man. In 
 reply to the Emperor's inquiries, Gerhard says that the 
 Good Gerhard is only a chance nickname given him 
 by the people of the city. This does not satisfy his 
 Majesty, tiU at last Gerhard is induced to relate his his^ 
 tory, but not until after he had wrestled in prayer, and 
 satisfied himself that there would be nothing wrong in 
 so doing. The tale which follows is furnished with all 
 
 » "Der Gute Gerhard, erne Erzahlung von Budolf von Ems," Morite 
 Eaupt, 1840. The Saga is certainly not Rudolf's invention, but ■who 
 ■was the author is not ascertained. Simrock translated it into modem 
 German, 1847. 
 
174 GERMAN LITER ATUEE. 
 
 the ornament of chivalric poetry, while it is at the same 
 time a model description of simplicity and unpretend- 
 ing modesty. Once Gerhard's thoughts were centred 
 upon the acquisition of riches, and the great object of 
 his ambition was that his son should, like him, be called 
 the rich Gerhard. Having by a lucky venture gained 
 a large sum of money in heathen lands, he voluntarily 
 parted with the whole of it to ransom some English 
 knights, and a Norwegian king's daughter, from slavery. 
 He then relates how this damsel was betrothed to an 
 English king, William, who had disappeared in a storm 
 at sea ; how he took and nourished her for years at his 
 house at Cologne, in hopes that her lover would appear ; 
 but at last, being convinced that the king was no more, 
 he makes preparations for marrying her to his son ; when 
 suddenly the lost king appears, although in beggar's 
 apparel. 
 
 Gerhard makes his son at once resign all claims to 
 the lady. He accompanies the king to England, and is 
 recognised by the English nobility, who wish to raise 
 him to the throne ; but he steadfastly declines all 
 honour and reward, and will only, " for the sake of the 
 red lips of the beautiful queen, his foster-daughter," 
 accept a breast ornament and a ring for his wife, and 
 then returns a simple merchant to "Cologne. All this 
 is so vividly narrated that we fancy we have the lowly- 
 minded, yet energetic, Gerhard before us. His example 
 has such an effect upon the Emperor, when he thinks 
 of the little good that he himself has done, and his pride 
 on the strength of it, that he returns to Magdeburg and 
 confesses that the good a man does he must do, not for 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 175 
 
 his own sake, but for God's, else it is not good. He 
 repents of his presumption, and now he achieves not 
 only temporal, but eternal glory. 
 
 This work of Rudolf is perhaps his oldest and best, 
 and the one best suited for the exhibition of his powers. 
 His " Wilhelm von Dourlens, or Orlienz,"* is an inferior 
 production. It is the history — after a foreign model, 
 and mixed up with much legendary matter — of a Bra- 
 bant prince. Most of the secular stories — of which this 
 is one — are based upon foreign originals. Some go 
 back to the twelfth century : e. g., the fragment of the 
 " Graf Rudolf," edited by W. Grimmf, which plea- 
 santly describes the life of the Crusaders. " Darifant," 
 " Demantin," and " Crane," are three similar poems by 
 Bertolt von Holle, who lived in the middle of the 
 thirteenth century, f Other poems are of German 
 origin, as Konrad von "Wurzburg's well-told legend of 
 
 * " Orlienz," not yet printed, is a history of Wilhelm the Conqueror, 
 handled in a foreign fashion. An extract in Mone's " Anzeiger," 1835, 
 Sp. 27. 
 
 t "Grave Euodolf," 1828, 4.; "Graf Kudolf," second edition, 
 1844, 4. 
 
 J " Darifant " and " Demantin " are as yet only known in fragments ; 
 those frqm " Darifant " were discovered and published by Nyerup ; 
 reprinted by W. Miiller, in Haupt's " Zeitschrift," ii. 179. Those from 
 "Demantin" are in Massmann's "Deukmaler," 75. Fragments of 
 " Crane " were first discovered and published by W. Grimm (under the 
 title of " Assundin." Lemgo, 1827) ; others by W. Miiller, and published 
 by him in Haupt's " Zeitschrift," i. 57. He soon concluded that the 
 ■writer of the two above works and this must be one and the same person. 
 Recently an almost perfect MS. of " Crane " has been discovered. The 
 connection between " Crane " and " Graf Rudolf," only conjectured by 
 VUmar, has been proved by W. Grimm, " Gr. Eud.," second edition, 
 p. 47. 
 
176 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 " The Emperor Otho with the Beard." Here we 
 learn how the Emperor has sworn by his beard to take 
 vengeance on Heinrich von Kempten, who has killed 
 his steward. How Heinrich hereupon lugs the Im- 
 perial beard ; how he masters the Emperor, and compels 
 him to give him his life, on condition that he sees his 
 face no more. How Heinrich after this saves the Em- 
 peror's life in the Italian wars, gets pardoned in conse- 
 quence, and is promoted to great honours.* There are 
 also extant two remarkable historic poems upon King 
 Albrecht and Adolf von Ifassau, and the battle of 
 Hasenbiihl, on July 2, 1298 ; the first of which contains 
 allusions to the sagas of " Dietrich " and " Sigfrid."f 
 
 "Meier Hehnbrecht" is important as a delineation 
 of German peasant life at the commencement of the 
 thirteenth century. Its author was an Austrian, 
 Werner der Gartner.| 
 
 " Herzog Ernst " is one of the few old national Sagas 
 which have survived among the people until the present 
 day. It existed, though not as a poem, before the year 
 1 180, but only two small fragments are extant of it in 
 that original shape. In the middle of the thirteenth 
 century a fresh version of it appeared, which was for a 
 
 * " Otte mit dem Barte,'' von Cuonrad von Wiirzeburc, von A. Hahn, 
 1838. 
 
 t The poem here meant of "King Albrecht and Adolf von Nassau," is 
 in Hanpt's " Zeitschrift," iii. 7-25. It contains Lower-Rhine forms of 
 expression. A totally different, and mnch less important poem, is one 
 printed in Graff's " Dintiska," iii. 314-323. 
 
 % The poem of " Meier Helmbrecht," ■which is supposed to have been' 
 of Bavarian origin, is printed in Haupt's " Zeitschrift," iv^ 31 8 ; also in 
 the "Wiener JahrbUcher," 1839. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 177 
 
 long time attributed to Veldekin ; but this supposition 
 could not be correct, for it is not likely that he sur- 
 vived beyond the beginning of that century^ That he 
 was the author even of the older poem is more than 
 doubtful.* 
 
 Herzog Ernst is the son of the Bavarian Duchess 
 Adelheit, who takes for her second husband Otho the 
 Ked. Otho is here confounded, as in two other poems, 
 with his father, Otho the Great. Ernst has a feud with 
 his step-father, and quits the kingdom, going on a 
 journey to Jerusalem with his faithful retainer, Count 
 Wetzel. Now it happens that in history two rebellious 
 Dukes Ernst are mentioned ; one a Bavarian, in the 
 time of Ludwig the Pious ; the other a Suabian, in the 
 time of Konrad the Salian, in the eleventh century, 
 and actually that Emperor's step-son by his wife Gisela, 
 and both were assisted by a Count Wernher, or 
 Wetzel ; so that here we have a mixture of dates and 
 persons pretty much in the same way as AttUa and 
 Dietrich are mixed up in the Saga. The son-in-law of 
 Konrad died at Constance in 1030, and soon after that 
 he became a hero of popular romance in that part of 
 Germany. But it is the second part of the Saga which 
 
 * In the year 1180 Count Berthold von Andechs applied to Abbot 
 Ruprecht, of Tegemsee, for permission to copy the " LibeUus teutonicus 
 de Herzogen Emesten." In the thirteenth century the legend must have 
 been -widely disseminated ; in prose, however, and not in song, as is plain 
 from the reference in " Maier Helmbreoht," v. 956. The fragments of 
 the oldest versions, dating from the twelfth century, are printed in Hoff- 
 mann's " Pundgrube," i. 228. The older recension of the version of 
 the thirteenth century remains unprinted ; the later one is published by 
 V. d. Hagen, in " Ged. des Mittelalters," 1811. 
 
178 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 has lent to it its chief interest. Here we are introduced 
 to the fabulous wonders of the East. On his journey 
 to Jerusalem Duke Ernst arrives at a lonely castle, the 
 magnificence of which recalls to us the famous Castle of 
 the Gral. But in this castle, although it is provided 
 with an abundance of good cheer, there is not a human 
 being to be seen. The Crusaders enjoyed themselves 
 here for some days, feasting on the cool wines and 
 dainty viands, and bathing in the golden baths, which 
 are fed by pipes of silver. At last one morning an 
 extraordinary sound is heard, just as if a quantity of 
 cranes were going to alight at the castle. And sure 
 enough there they came, the sharp-nebbed generation, 
 with their long dry necks, and beaks an ell long. They 
 are clad in costly silks, and an Indian maiden, whom 
 they had carried off, is in the midst of them, looking in 
 her tears like a rose bathed in dew. The crane-king 
 presents his long neb to her red little mouth, and makes 
 tender love-speeches in tones anything but harmonious. 
 Ernst and his knights, enraged at the sight, set upon 
 the cranes ; numbers fell on both sides, but they fail to 
 rescue the damsel owing to the deadly strokes of the 
 cranes' bills. The chieftains again put to sea, and 
 eventually discern a lofty island, with a forest of masts 
 adhering to it. This is a magnetic rock, which draws 
 vessels towards ii. Ernst's ship is soon cracking to 
 pieces among the ruins of countless barks that have 
 perished there already. The Duke and his surviving 
 companions are then carried by griffins to another 
 island. Eventually he comes to the country of the 
 Arimasps, who have only one eye, and assists their 
 king in his war with the Flat-feet, as they are called. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 179 
 
 This people can run across morassesj where neither 
 horse nor man can follow them, and, when it is wet 
 weather, put their feet over their heads like an umbrella. 
 He also goes against the Long-ears, who use their ears 
 at times for cloaks, and then against a race of giants so 
 big that Ernst only reaches to their knee. In every 
 contest he is victorious. At length he arrives at Jeru- 
 salem, where he performs further wonderful exploits. 
 He then returns to Germany, and on Christmas morn 
 becomes reconciled to the Emperor, who relents as he 
 hears the Bishop read the Gospel of the day, and thinks 
 of the blessings which this anniversary commemorates. 
 As the reader will have seen, most of these incidents 
 are derived from the oriental fairy tales. In the 
 fifteenth century this poem was converted into a popular 
 song, and became so great a favourite that the measure 
 of Bern, in which it was written, was also called Duke 
 Ernst's measure. There is another version of "Herzog 
 Ernst," which dates from the sixteenth century, but 
 which is derived from a Latin source. 
 
 There are other poems composed of like popular ma- 
 terials, but written in a playful tone. " Solomon and 
 Morolf " is a piece of this description. Morolf is an 
 astute fool, who, in a conversation with King Solomon, 
 turns each of his wise sayings into nonsense. 
 
 Something of the kind existed as early as the sixth 
 century ; and in the thirteenth Morolf had grown into 
 a proverb. In, fact, there are two poems of this name: 
 one by a popular poet of the twelfth century,* the 
 
 * The perversion of SolomOD's wisdom by Morolf is referred to by 
 lYeidank t81,.3-4). There are many genuine German features about 
 
180 GERMAN LITBEATUEE. 
 
 other is a dialogue, of the fourteenth or fifteenth cen- 
 tury. In this, Morolf (or Markolf, as he is here called,) 
 asserts that Nature beats habit. Solomon has a favourite 
 cat who has been taught to sit by him at table, and 
 hold a candle. Markolf lets a mouse out of his sleeve, 
 which runs across the table. The cat starts, but a 
 menacing motion is made by the king, and art prevails 
 over Nature. A second mouse runs out of Markolf's 
 sleeve, and the cat, in its agitation, shakes the light 
 to and fro; but the threatening attitude of the king has 
 its eflfect, and habit is still victorious. A third mouse 
 jumps out, and down goes the candle, and with it 
 crockery and habit are overthrown. 
 
 The second poem of this sort is " Pfaflfe Amis. " 
 Pfaffe Amis is one of those heroes of roguery and fun, 
 of lying and trickery, which have been current for cen- 
 turies in Germany under the names of Pfaffe von Kalen- 
 berg, Peter Leu, Bochart, and, lastly, of Till Eulen- 
 splegel. Pfaffe Amis, whose name and condition are 
 most likely derived from England, but whose roguish 
 tricks are of German growth, is a diverting personage. 
 In France, Loraine, England, and Constantinople, — - 
 everywhere, in short, — he evinces equal dexterity in 
 hoaxing greenhorns. This poem, which abounds with 
 
 the story of "Solomon and Morolf." J. Grimm ("Mythol.," second 
 edition, p. 415) seems almost to consider it a German legend, i. e. with 
 foreign names and localities. Both pieces, the story of " Solomon and 
 Morolf," and the dialogue between them, are pijnted in Hagen and 
 Busching. In point of form " Orendel " much resembles " Solomon 
 and Morolf." In it, too, the five-lined strophe originally prevailed, 
 afterwards known as the " Jacobston," " Liadenschmidt," and " Schlacht 
 von Pavia." Both the poems are divided into parts, corresponding with 
 the draughts of wine handed to the narrators. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 18] 
 
 wit and humour, is the work of the same Strieker (as he 
 is called) who wrote an indifferent version of the " Ro- 
 landslied." Here, however, he is completely at home. 
 The same may be said of his short stories and fables.* 
 
 Parson Amis has a fat benefice, of which his bishop 
 intends to deprive him, unless he can answer certain 
 questions. He is no other than Biirger's Abbot of St. 
 Gall, whom Biirger borrowed from Burkhard Waldis, 
 who in his turn had taken him from the oral popular 
 traditions of his time. "How many days is it since 
 Adam? " is one of the questions put to Amis. " Seven," 
 is the reply, " and after that another seven, and so on." 
 " Where is the centre of the world?" " My church," 
 answers Amis, "is just in the centre. Let your ser- 
 vants measure with a cord, and if I am wrong by the 
 breadth of a straw you may take away my benefice." 
 This joke is still extant in reference to a village in 
 Lower Hessia. *' How far are we from heaven ? " 
 " As far as a man can bawl. Mount up, Sir Bishop, 
 and if, when you are up there, you don't hear my voice 
 from below, I've lost." Amis is next compelled to 
 teach an ass, on pain of losing his place. " A man, " he 
 remarks, " requires twenty years to learn anything well, 
 so for an ass we shall want thirty." This is agreed to, 
 and he proceeds to purchase a little donkey for the 
 purpose, before which he places an old volume with 
 hay inserted between the leaves. Long-ears being 
 
 * "Pfaffe Amis" is given best in Benecke's "Beitrage," ii. 493; also 
 before (1817) in the " Coloczaer Codex." There is also an old edition 
 of the poem, of the end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth 
 century. A translation of it appeared by Berlit, in 1851. 
 
182 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 hungry, fumbles about for the hay, and turns over the 
 leaves in search of it. Presently the Bishop arrives to 
 examine the donkey-school. " You see, my Lord, he 
 has made some progress already. He can manage to 
 turn over the leaves." The Bishop expresses his satis- 
 faction at what has been done. Amis next takes his 
 grey-coated pupil into the room, and places before him 
 on the table a large book, quite new, but with no hay 
 in it. The donkey, anxious for provender, begins dili- 
 gently turning over the leaves as before; and not 
 finding any thing, expresses his dissatisfaction by 
 discordant braying. " See, Sir Bishop," says Amis, 
 " he is beginning his alphabet. At present he has not 
 got further than the first letter, which he has repeated 
 with such emphasis in order to do you honour." This 
 is one of the best-known tricks of the real Eulen- 
 spiegel. What follows shows the position in which the 
 laity of Germany stood in relation to the clergy in the 
 middle of the thirteenth century, which is the date of 
 the original story. 
 
 Amis visits a rich and foolish farmer's wife, whose 
 husband is from home. To her he pretends to be an 
 exceedingly pious individual, and she is quite delighted 
 at the idea of having so much godliness under her 
 roof At his request the household cock is killed 
 and roasted. This Amis eats clean up, all but the 
 bones, promising that before cock-crow next morn- 
 ing she shall be rewarded two-fold, both temporally 
 and eternally, for the sacrifice. The rogue had pre- 
 viously purchased a cock the fac-simile of the victim. 
 This he lets slip at dawn, and it immediately begins to 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 183 
 
 crow. " Behold thy cock again," he says. " The sign 
 has been vouchsafed. Thou art sure of eternal salva- 
 tion." All which the good housewife religiously be- 
 lieves. He then celebrates mass with thirty tapers 
 around him, and gives indulgences for all sins, past, 
 present, and to come. Before his departure, at the 
 lady's earnest entreaty, he accepts as a present a bale 
 of white linen, 100 ells long. But hardly has he 
 departed, when the husband comes home, and learns 
 what a fool his wife has been making of herself. " By 
 Heaven, I'E make him disgorge the cloth," he cries, 
 and starts off in hot pursuit. Amis espies him on his 
 track, and nimbly inserts a piece of burning tinder in 
 the folds of the bale. Pale with rage, the rider charges 
 at him with these words : " Villain and cheat, out with 
 the cloth." With admirable humility. Amis suppli- 
 cates him not to visit on his head his wife's act of piety. 
 " She had forced it upon him ; there was the cloth ; he 
 had no wish to retain it." After administering a sound 
 drubbing to his reverence, the good man makes off in 
 high spirits at the recovery of his property. By and 
 by he observes a smell of burning. The cloth begins to 
 smoke. The rider unwraps it ; when lo ! it is all in a 
 blaze. Conscience-stricken, the man at once perceives 
 that this is a punishment from Heaven upon him, for 
 taking away what had been given to God. Frightened 
 out of his wits, he leaves the cloth burning on the 
 grass, and starts helter-skelter after the priest, whom 
 he begs for mercy's sake to pardon hipa, and he will 
 repay him double. Upon these terms the cunning 
 sharper expresses himself satisfied. The neighbours. 
 
184 GERMAN LITEKATUKE. 
 
 too, pay him pretty stiffly to be remembered in his 
 prayers ; and the good priest, who had been favoured 
 with such a signal manifestation from Heaven, becomes 
 thoroughly appeased. "Toffel im Paradiese," dating 
 from the fifteenth century, is evidently another version 
 of this story.* 
 
 We shall now pass on to consider the Animal-sagas. 
 It has already been shown that the Saga of " Eeitihart 
 the Fox and Isengrim the Wolf" was taken by the 
 Franks over the Rhine.f 
 
 The root of this Saga lies in the harmless natural 
 simplicity of a primseval people. We see described 
 the delight which the rude child of nature takes 
 in the animals, — in their slim forms, their gleaming 
 eyes, their fierceness, nimbleness, and cunning. Such 
 Sagas, illustrative of the ways and doings of the beasts, 
 would naturally have their origin in an age when the 
 ideas of the shepherd, and the hunter occupied a great 
 portion of the intellectual horizon of the people ; when 
 the herdsman saw in the ravenous bear one who was 
 his equal, and more than his equal, in force and adroit- 
 ness, the champion of the woods and wilds ; when the 
 hunter, in his lonely ramble through the depths of the 
 
 * A joke, related in most of the German "Joe Millers" of the 
 sixteenth century, and also elaborated by Hans Sachs. The -ffidow of 
 a peasant fancies a student arrived from Paris is come from Paradise, 
 and gives him some presents for her husband there. See also " Jugend- 
 zeitung," 1808, No. 143. 
 
 t The only satisfactory account of the character of the " Thiersage " 
 is given by Jacob Grimm in his introduction to "Keinhart Fuohs," 
 1834. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 185 
 
 forest, beheld in the hoary wolf and red fox, as they 
 stole along, hunters like himself, — mates, so to say, and 
 companions, and whom he therefore addressed as such. 
 But there was another reason why herdsman and 
 hunter wished to be on a good footing with these deni- 
 zens of the solitudes. It was not so much the physical 
 violence of these beasts that they dreaded, as the in- 
 visible demon within them : that demon which glared 
 out so terribly from the eyes of the wolf, and exercised 
 such a supernatural power. So that these animals 
 came to be looked on as an incorporation of the dark 
 powers of nature. Hence it was that the herdsman 
 would call the wolf by any name but its own. The 
 wolf was gold-foot, the fox blue-foot. In Hessia the 
 wolf was called Holzing, i. e., the creature of the wood, 
 while in other parts of Germany his name was disguised 
 under wul or wulch, instead of plain wolf.* 
 
 So that originally this kind of poetry was the ex- 
 ponent of a peculiar sort of feeling prevailing among 
 the people, and had nothing whatever to do with the 
 didactic or satiric; although at a later period satiric 
 allusions began to be interwoven with it. 
 
 At first the personages were the beasts of the Ger- 
 man forest : the wolf, the fox, with the bear as king, 
 though subsequently the lion took his place ; and this 
 fact indicates that the Animal-saga was indigenous to 
 Germany ; or, more properly, it may be said to belong 
 to the Franks. For, apparently, the Anglo-Saxons and 
 Scandinavians knew as little of it as did the Celts. Its 
 
 * So the Norwegians call this animal Graabeen, grey-legs. — Editor. 
 
186 
 
 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 home was the centre of "Western Germany, the North 
 of France, with Flanders (where the soft-toned Pro- 
 ven9al dialect yielded to the German), and, later, 
 Northern Germany. At no period did the Animal-saga 
 penetrate to the South of France. 
 
 The names, too, as has been briefly indicated before, 
 are German. The epic name of the wolf is Isangrim, 
 i. e., eisengrimmig (iron-grim), indicating the sharpness 
 of the wolfs bite. The fox is called Keginhart, i. e., 
 the prudent counsellor. The bear is Bruno, the brown. 
 All of them appellations bestowed likewise on mankind, 
 and thus raising these animals to something much 
 above mere beasts in the abstract. 
 
 Subsequently, when the Saga came back again to 
 Germany from France, some of the secondary per- 
 sonages retained their French name^ e. ff. the cock, 
 which is called ChantecMr (in Reineke Vos, Can- 
 tard). This is also the case with the lion (noble), 
 after he was promoted to be king of the beasts in- 
 stead of the bear. This exchange of kings is due 
 to French influence. In Fromund of Tegemsee's 
 poem (about 990), the bear is still king. But in the 
 middle of the twelfth century, when the Saga had re- 
 turned from France, the lion was on the throne. The 
 ass always kept his original name Baldewin (hence the 
 present French name Baudet for that animal), which 
 means jolly, unconcerned how the world wags, provided 
 he may enjoy his thistle in quiet. The she-wolf is 
 Herisuintha (corrupted into Hersant in the French), 
 i. e. strong and quick as the host of fighting men. These 
 Animal-sagas are localised, for instance, in Flanders, at 
 Arras; in Germany, on the Rhine ; in the same way as 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 187 
 
 tte Nibelung-saga was also localised. In the allego- 
 rical and satirical poems, this localisation is evidently 
 sought on purpose ; but in the original Animal-saga it 
 is, so to say, quite unintentional and by chance. Lastly, 
 we must not omit to specify the quiet simplicity of the 
 narrative, without any ornament or design. And then 
 it will not be too much to say, that we have here an 
 epic based, no less than the heroic epic, on the truth of 
 nature, — an epic which found a thousand responsive 
 chords in the bosom of the people, and was handed 
 down carefully from father to son for many generations. 
 
 In the same way that the heroic epic grew gradually 
 out of a number of heroic tales and war-songs, mixed 
 up with accounts of mythic deities ; so the animal-epic 
 of Germany must have been formed by degrees out 
 of tales of the chase, poetically blended with pieces of 
 animal mythology. 
 
 After circulating in the mouths of the people fof 
 many centuries, it was first committed to writing in 
 the Netherlands. The earliest specimen was written in 
 Latin, under the title of " Isengrimus," by one Magister 
 Nivardus of South Flanders, at the beginning of the 
 twelfth or end of the eleventh century. Here there 
 are only two wolf-stories, one showing how the sick 
 lion was cured by the hide of Isengrim ; another con" 
 cerning the pilgrimage of the chamois who had been 
 waylaid by Isengrim. The second work on the subject 
 is also in Latin. It appeared in North Flanders about 
 fifty years later than the first, under the title of " Eei- 
 nardus." Besides the above two tales, it contains ten 
 more. Satirical allusions to the Pope and ecclesiastical 
 
188 GERMAN LITER ATUEE. 
 
 shown to the Cistercians and their founder St. Bernard; 
 so that the author must have been a Benedictine, 
 
 About the middle of the twelfth century, that is, 
 at the period when " Reinardus " appeared in Flanders, 
 the Animal-saga went through the same process as the 
 Carlovingian Epic. After springing up in Germany it 
 passed over to France, and then back again to the place 
 of its birth ; only, that the subject-matter was retained 
 much more tenaciously than in the case of the Carlovin- 
 gian Epos, there being nothing foreign in it but the 
 names already mentioned. 
 
 The author of this new German version of the Saga 
 after the French was one Heinrich der Glichesare, as 
 he called himself, of Alsace. It appeared in the middle 
 of the twelfth century, and contains ten tales about the 
 fox and the wolf, written in the severe style of that 
 century. About fifty, or at the most sixty, years 
 later, this poem, "Reinhart Fuchs," was re-written 
 in the purer German that had prevailed since Velde- 
 kin's time ; but, beyond this, it was little altered. The 
 author's name is not mentioned. Both these poems are 
 in short rhymed couplets, the usual form of narrative 
 poetry. The latter came to light again about 1816. 
 The former, that by Glichesare, was considered lost, 
 until a few years ago, when a third of it was discovered 
 written on some parchment book-covers at Melsungen, 
 in Hessia.* After this period, there appeared a number 
 of French versions, which contained as many as twenty- 
 eeven stories. 
 
 * J. Grimm, " Sendschreiben an Karl Lachmann iiber Beinliart 
 Fuchs," 1840. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 189 
 
 In 1250 a Dutch version appeared by one Willem 
 (commonly called de Matoc), which work was con- 
 tinued, but in a very inferior style, by an anonymous 
 writer in the middle of the fourteenth century. 
 
 At the end of the fifteenth century, "WUlem's " Rei- 
 naert," which had been divided into books, was trans- 
 lated by one Nikolaus Baumann, a Westphalian, living 
 at Liibeck, into Low-German under the title of " Rei- 
 neke Vos." The original High-German version, and 
 even the name " Eeinhart," have been superseded in con- 
 sequence. In this Dutch version the satirical parts are 
 stronger than in the old High-German version of the 
 Saga. Hence, in the sixteenth century, a period which 
 was especially prone to satire, the false notion got 
 abroad that the whole piece was intended for a satire ,; 
 that it was a speculum vita aulicce (mirror of court-life); 
 and it was actually translated into Latin. Of the ori- 
 ginal impression of the poem, which appeared in 1498, 
 only one copy is extant; another edition appeared in 
 1711, by Hackman; and a third in 1834, by Hoffmann 
 von Fallersleben, with a good glossary attached. 
 Among many versions from the Latin, one was by 
 Gottsched, who was but ill fitted for such a work, 
 and another by Goethe. This last, as J. Grimm 
 observes, is not natural enough and simple enough to 
 give us a correct idea of the genuine Animal-saga.* 
 
 * The idea of the Brothers Grimm upon the whole amounts to this: 
 that the sesopic or didactic animal fahle is a corruption of the " Thier- 
 sage." The shaping of the fable to suit the epimythia (moral) is 
 destructive to its poetic simplicity. Gervinus on the other hand con- 
 siders the fables of ^sop and the German animal fable as entirely 
 independent of each .other. 
 
190 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 As in the heroic Epos, there are certain poetas 
 which are isolated altogether from the main stream, 
 such as " Ecken Ausfart;" and others, like " Hornerne 
 Sigfried," which, though blended with the main current 
 of heroic song, also exist in an independent form. 
 So it is with animal Epic. And out of these isolated 
 poems seems to have arisen Animal Fable. 
 
 In the thirteenth century, fable was called blspel, i. e. 
 beispiel, example. Epic, on the other hand, was de- 
 signated as maere ; and this is the term used of the 
 " Eeinhart Fuchs," showing that it was in reality an 
 epic narrative, and not a fable. 
 
 Of this fable, then, — in which animals appear, and 
 which is totally distinct from the animal Epic, — there 
 were three writers who lived in the best days of Ger- 
 man poetry. The Strieker above mentioned, the 
 author of a version of the " Rolands-lied," of " Priest 
 Amis," and other short tales; — Boner, the Swiss, 
 and Gerhart von Minden, which last lived a little 
 later, viz., in the middle of the fourteenth century. 
 All of them narrate in a simple and agreeable tone ; 
 the Strieker especially. His collection of fables is 
 called "Die Welt," (the world); where the expe- 
 riences of daily life are illustrated by examples from 
 animate and inanimate nature.* Boner's ninety-nine or 
 one hundred fables were written about the year 1300. 
 He borrows a good deal from JEsop. The title of his 
 work, which is perhaps the oldest German printed 
 book (1461, at Bamberg), was " Edelstein ;" and it con- 
 
 * The original collection of Strieker's fables is hardly now extant ; 
 many of them have been printed, e, g. in the Brothers Grimm's " Alt- 
 deutsche Walder." 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 191 
 
 tinued to be a favourite with the public for two hun- 
 dred years.* Grerhart also follows ^sop. His work 
 was only lately discovered.! These three are the 
 models for the fable-writers of the sixteenth century, 
 Erasmus Alberus and Burkhard Waldis, who in their 
 turn were imitated by Hagedorn, Gellert, Lichtwer, 
 Zacharia, Lessing (partly), down to Frolioh, the fable- 
 writer of our time. 
 
 We now pass from didactic fable to didactic poetry, 
 properly so called. Maxims of worldly wisdom, descrip- 
 tions of the customs, circumstances, and ideas of that 
 day; warnings against evil ; exhortations to chastity and 
 honour ; such are its topics. As early as the twelfth 
 century there were writers in this line. There is still 
 extant a piece by one Heinrich, an Austrian poet, 
 written before the year 1163. It is in two parts; the 
 first is entitled " Vom gemeinen Leben," i. e., Con- 
 cerning common Life ; the second, " Von des Todes 
 Gehiigede," i. e., Thoughts upon Death. The diction is 
 good, and the style earnest and impressive.^ Another 
 collection of maxims, entitled " Besoheidenheit des 
 Freidank," is well known. It was written in May 
 
 * Boner's "Edelstem" was published, 1757, by Bodmer ("Fabela 
 aus der Zeit de Minnesinger"); 1816, by Benecke; and last, 1844, by 
 Franz Pfeiffer. 
 
 t ." Gerhart von Minden " belongs properly to the following period, 
 as he wrote his fables in 1370. They are 102 in number. Of these, 
 twenty-one, together with the titles of the others, have been published 
 by the discoverer, F. Wiggert, Magdeburg, 1836, in the work called 
 "Zweites Scherflein zur Forderung der Kenntniss deutscher Mundarten 
 und Schriften.'' 
 
 I Heinrich's poem is printed in Massmann's " Deutsche Gedichte des 
 12 Jahrh." ii. p. 343, with which compare the supplement by J, Grimm, 
 in the " Gott. gel. Anzeiger," 1838, No. 56. 
 
192 GEEMAK LITEEATXJEE. 
 
 1229. Under the term " Bescheidenheit " (modesty) 
 was anciently comprehended the power of possessing 
 a due amount of world-wisdom and probity combined. 
 The name "Freldank" Is, perhaps, a fictitious one. 
 Grimm conjectures the real author to have been 
 Walther von der Vogelwelde, the first lyric poet 
 of his day* The work consists, for the most part, 
 of popular sayings, such as were then in vogue, and 
 even now, after a space of sis hundred years, still 
 continue to be so. They are put together with much 
 skill ; and the language is all the more impressive for 
 being simple and homely. The other portion of the 
 book contains the reflections of one well versed in the 
 highest and lowest grades of ecclesiastical life, as well 
 as In political and social affairs, upon the faults of the 
 age. His censures are grave and earnest, but free from 
 all malice and bitterness. He describes a chattering 
 tongue as being boneless itself, but breaking stone and 
 bone ; separating friends, disgusting lovers with love. 
 Court-fashion, as compelling a short man to walk upon 
 tip-toe. Deceit and lying as more welcome at court 
 than the children of princes, and agreeable to all Lords, 
 but the Lord of all. He gives us maxims about money, 
 that notable salve, than can soften the most obstinate 
 disposition. "We then have observations on B,ome, and 
 the ecclesiastical government there ; and on the Cru- 
 sades, In which the author himself bore a part under 
 the Emperor Frederick the Second. At one time, he 
 
 * " Vridankes Bescheidenheit," von W. Grimm, 1834. J. Grimm 
 has advanced strong reasons against the identity of- Walther von der 
 Vogelweide and Freidank in "Gedichte dcs Mittelalters auf Konig 
 Friedrich I.," 1844, p. 8. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 193 
 
 enlivens us witli a vein of pleasantry ; at another, his 
 talk is of solemn subjects — God and eternity, anti- 
 christ and the last day. But whatever the topic, there 
 is a genuine, a natural, and healthy tone throughout. 
 There is nothing forced or artificial, nothing superfluous 
 or wearisome ; so pithy and rapid is the whole, that it 
 is more like action than description. Very soon after 
 this poem was written, it rose into universal estimation. 
 As early as 1260, poets quoted Freidank and his wise 
 sayings. It seemed as if he had been the first to give 
 expression to that which was already in the hearts and 
 mouths of thousands. He was one of the few ancient 
 writers that lived in the grateful recollection of the 
 people down to the seventeenth century, when all that 
 was good sank into oblivion. His work was called a 
 secular Bible, and it still may serve as a vade mecum, 
 full of pleasure and profit. 
 
 Tomasin von Zirklaere, a native of Friule, who was 
 originally unacquainted with the German language, 
 wrote a poem entitled the ""Welsche Gast," about 
 1216. This work likewise deserves favourable mention, 
 on account of its tone and style ; but it has neither the 
 freshness nor the popular air of Freidank's " Beschei- 
 denheit."* 
 
 In the year 1300 a similar work appeared by one 
 Hugo von Trimberg, a schoolmaster of Theuerstadt, a 
 suburb of Bamberg. It was entitled " Renner." But 
 it is inferior in most respects to Freidank's poem. At 
 times it is unnecessarily spun out; long-winded re- 
 
 * On Tomasin's family name, se'rHaupt's " Zeitschrift," v. 241. His 
 work was published by Euckert, 1852. 
 
 K 
 
194 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 flections and stories being Introduced to illustrate the 
 maxims. Besides which no little erudition is super- 
 added, a thing unknown to Freidank. The strange 
 title Renner, i. e. runner, indicates that it is meant to 
 run through all lands and disseminate wisdom. In fact, 
 it did become very widely circulated down to the six- 
 teenth century. Hugo's first work, which he lost, was 
 called the " Samler," collector.* 
 
 Besides these we may mention "King Tyrol von 
 Schotten's advice to his son Friedebrant ;"t and a 
 similar work entitled " Winsbeke ;" also a mother's 
 advice to her daughter, " Winsbekin."| These poems 
 are not in an epic but a lyric shape. 
 
 In addition to these there are several lyric didactic 
 poems of the thirteenth century. 
 
 "We thus arrive at the strictly lyrical or Minne poetry 
 of this epoch, the manifold productions in which can 
 only be briefly described. 
 
 Ancient heroic poetry, which sings the deeds of a 
 
 * The " Eenner" was printed in 1549, after a version of Seb. Brant's. 
 The Historical Society of Bamherg published another, but not good, 
 edition, 1833-34. 
 
 f "Konig Tyrol und sein Sohn Friedebrant" were originally subjects 
 of an epic poem, of which only fragments surrire ; see J. Grimm, in 
 Haupt's " Zeitschrift," L p. 7. The didactic poem of " King Tyrol and 
 his son Friedebrant" is in Schiller's "Thesaurus" (vol. ii.), and in 
 Hagen's " Minneanger," ii. 248. 
 
 % " Der Winsbeke und die Winsbekin" — poems which certainly did 
 not originally belong to each other — are printed in Beneoke's "Beitrage," 
 ii. 455, and in Hagen's " Neues Jahrbuch,'' ii. 182. A special edition 
 came out by M. Haupt in 1845. Add to these didactic poems the col- 
 lection made by Sigfrid Helbing, an Austrian knight, about 1295-1298. 
 It is a very useful contribution to the History of Manners, and is edited, 
 with notes, by Karajan, in Haupt's " Zeitschrift," iv. 1-284. 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 195 
 
 whole people out of the mouth of a whole people, is 
 always succeeded by a poetry, which is the expression, 
 not of a nation's feelings, but of the feelings of an 
 individual;* a poetry which does not describe deeds but 
 sensations and feelings, the joys and sorrows of an 
 individual heart. 
 
 If these feelings are such as have moved the hearts 
 of all, though they are described by one, then we have 
 the popular lay (Volkslied). If they are the exclusive 
 experience of a single person, then we have art-lyric or 
 Minne-poetry, which was so universally cultivated in 
 the spring-time of German song. Minne, as being the 
 main subject of this sort of poetry, has given its name 
 to it. It signifies the silent longing thought on the 
 beloved one, sweet reminiscenses of her, whose name 
 the lover does not venture to pronounce. There is 
 nothing of impurity about it ; it is tender and profound, 
 and essentially German. 
 
 One chief charm of this kind of poetry is its youth- 
 ful simplicity and diffidence. When the maiden's gaze 
 meets that of the lover, he casts his eyes down to 
 the ground abashed. One friendly glance from the 
 sweet face of his fair enslaver, and he is satisfied. It 
 is only when the boys and girls meet in the merry 
 Maytide, and foot it under the linden trees, that thb 
 bashful dreamer takes courage and joins his loved one 
 in the dance. Her name we never find mentioned in 
 all the numerous productions of the Minnesingers; 
 although there can be no doubt that in each of these 
 the heroine is not an imaginary, but a real personage. 
 
 * Grimm,"Alt-Deutscher Meistergesang," p. 141. 
 K 2 
 
196 GEKMAN LITEEATDEE. 
 
 Nay, the singer himself avoids coming too prominently 
 before his readers. Thus Walther von der Vogelweide 
 only covertly alludes to himself, by mentioning the 
 lady Hildegund : this latter name calling to mind the 
 well-known popular epic of Walther of Wasichenstein 
 and Hildegund. The joys of Spring, and gladness of 
 Summer; Autumn-sadness, and Winter-lament, which 
 aptly mirror forth the vicissitudes in the singer's 
 feelings, frequently form the commencement of his 
 strain. This sympathy with the ever-changing scenes 
 of nature, which is another mark of the juvenile 
 emotions of Minne-poetry, has incurred the ridicule of 
 the modems. But it is totally distinct from the morbid 
 sentimentality and affected love of nature of some of 
 the poems of the last century which have been so 
 admirably described in Werther. 
 
 Again, the tenderness and purity of woman's mind, 
 and the devotedness of her affection, are touchingly and 
 truly painted by these poets. Indeed, the very exis- 
 tence of this species of poetry is clearly attributable 
 to the ennobling and soothing influence — we may add 
 the poetic influence — which she exercised on the 
 sterner sex. She formed, as it were, the ideal side of 
 society. The homage which ever since that time has 
 been paid by the Western nations of Christendom to the 
 fair sex, then amounted to something like adoration ; a 
 feeling which had its origin alike in the courtly ob- 
 servances and strict notions of chivalry, and in the holy 
 influences of Christianity. Never was the poet more 
 under the inspiration of woman than in the last half of 
 the twelfth and beginning of the thirteenth century. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 197 
 
 Of fickleness, inconstancy, jealousy, broken vows, 
 Minne poetry knows nothing. Here, woman is hope- 
 ful and unalterably true ; for she cannot be otherwise. 
 To sum up all, Minne poetry may be pronounced an 
 essentially feminine poetry. 
 
 Not so the poetry of the Troubadours, which was in 
 a great measure its contemporary. That may be 
 called an essentially masculine poetry ; the poetry of a 
 southern people, restless and ardent. Inconstancy, 
 jealousy, separation, reconciliation amid doubts and 
 reproaches, in short, all the vagaries of vehement, reck- 
 less passion, such are its features in contradistinction 
 to the gentleness, the hopeful yearning, the modesty 
 and reserve, of Minne-poetry. From this it is clear 
 that the latter could never have been borrowed from 
 the former. Minne-poetry is not Komantic, but en- 
 tirely German. It is just possible that Germany 
 caught the general inspiration for this sort of poetry 
 from France : but this is all that can be aflSrmed.* 
 
 Another prominent feature of this poetry is its rich 
 melodiousness. It was meant, not to be read, but 
 sung ; sung to the sound of the zither or violin, for the 
 most part by the poet himself; sometimes in the circle 
 
 * The only instance of a German minnesinger borrowing features 
 from the Romance poetry of the Trouhadonrs is Eudolf, Corait of Neuen- 
 hurg. In the Weingarten MS. he is called Count of Fenis: to judge 
 from which name, and his birth-place, Neufehatel, he was himself half 
 Romance. Bodmer, in 1 7 63, showed that some of his strophes are imitated 
 from the Prench singer, Folqnet, of Marseilles. But this imitation does 
 not go beyond a few individual pictures ; as a whole, the German is 
 widely different from the Romance original. SeeHagen's "Minnesinger," 
 iv. p. 50. Wackemagel's •' Alt-franzoslsche Lieder und Leiche," 1846, 
 p. 193. 
 
 TC 3 
 
198 GEKMAK LITEKATUEE. 
 
 of gentle ladies, among whom was the object of his 
 passion; sometimes to the merry movement of the 
 dance. So that all this poetry, in its copious ringing 
 language, in its delicate* intertwining of rhymes, in 
 its lines of different lengths, in its abrupt pauses, and 
 so forth, is from first to last nothing but music. 
 
 The Strophe is composed of two equal parts, fol- 
 lowed and wound up by another of different length. 
 The two former are called Stollen, the latter one 
 Ahgesang, — a threefold division of the strophe, which 
 has been preserved to the present day. On the other 
 hand, the number of lines, their length, and the arrange- 
 ment of the rhymes, vary in almost every poem accord- 
 ing to the will of the poets. Besides this tripartite strophe 
 form, there was another form, which adapted itself 
 entirely to the music ; whereas in that just mentioned 
 the music was adapted to the rhyme. This was the 
 Leich, originally an ecclesiastical form of poem derived 
 from the long-drawn modulations of the last syllable of 
 Hallelujah, and hence, as used by the Church, called 
 Sequenz. At the end of the twelfth century it was 
 also employed for secular poems ; and it is one of the 
 most fascinating and lively, as well as most unfettered 
 forms of Minne-poetry. The melody of the Italian 
 language and poetry are often praised ; but there is, 
 perhaps, nothing more musical and melodious in the 
 whole field of poetry than those strains which Heinrich 
 von Risbach, Heinrich von Ofterdingen, Wolfram von 
 Eschenbach, and Walther von der Vogelweide, sang 
 on the Wartburg at the beginning of the thirteenth 
 centurv. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 199 
 
 Worldly love, however, is not the exclusive theme of 
 the Minnesanger poetry. Impassioned strains of hea- 
 venly Minne, praises of the Virgin, fervid eulogies of 
 the Crusades, pious reflections on the wisdom and works 
 of the Creator, are also to be found in their productions. 
 Some of them go a step further, and sing in earnest 
 tones of the Emperor and his vassals, of the Pope, the 
 Church, and the clergy, the customs and course of 
 the age, and the vanity of sublunary things. And thus, 
 in fact, they pass over into the domain of didactic 
 poetry; specimens of which have been mentioned 
 above in " King Tyrol," " Winsbeke," and " Winsbekin." 
 Hence the poetry, as well as the life, of the knightly 
 minstrels of the thirteenth century has been divided 
 into Frauendienst, Herrendienst, and Gottesdienst, i. e. 
 service to the ladies, to their masters, and to God. 
 
 By far the greatest part of these poets were of 
 knightly rank. Their art was a courtly one, and they 
 exercised it amid the higher circles, and under the roofs 
 of princes and nobles. The people, on the contrary, 
 took but little interest in it ; what they loved most to 
 hear were the old heroic songs, sung by blind strol- 
 ling minstrels. In one respect, however, popular and 
 Minne poetry were alike, they were neither of them 
 committed to writing, but sung from memory, and 
 handed down by oral tradition. Most of the minne- 
 singers, even Wolfram von Eschenbach himself, could 
 neither read nor write. Ulrich von Lichtenstein had 
 to carry a billet-doux for weeks in his pocket before he 
 could meet with somebody to decipher it. Many of 
 these poets had a lad in their service (singerlein), to 
 
 K 4 
 
200 GEEMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 whom they taught their pieces, and who at times went 
 and sang them to the knight's lady-love. It was not 
 till this art was on the wane that the verses of some of 
 the singers were collected and written down. The best 
 of these collections was made at Zurich, and was known 
 under the name of the " Manessian MS." From thence 
 it went to Heidelberg, and is now in the Library at 
 Paris. It is full of beautiful miniatures of the knightly 
 pQpts, together with the escutcheons of each. There is 
 another collection of older date, which formerly be- 
 longed to the Monastery of Weingarten, and is now at 
 Stuttgard. A third, called the " Heidelberg MS.," is 
 likewise more ancient. Both of these have lately been 
 printed, the former with its illustrations entire. 
 
 From a survey of the above collections, which manir 
 festly contain only the best songs, and those which were 
 most generally known, we may form some idea of the 
 vast number of knightly singers [Herren) in those days. 
 It is also evident that besides these there were, at a com- 
 paratively early period, Mdster, people of the burgher 
 classes, who followed the art. Among them we even 
 meet with a Jew, Siisskind by name. The art would 
 doubtless be subject to certain rules, and this would 
 prepare the way for the Meistergesang of the following 
 period. 
 
 Of the 160 Minnesingers, of whose songs specimens 
 survive, we shaU here briefly allude to a few.* 
 
 * The first edition of the " Minnesingers " -was undertaken by Bodmer 
 and Breitinger, after the Paris MS., in 1758-59. " Sammlung von 
 Minnesingem aus dem Schwabischen Zeitpuncte CXL. Dichter enthal- 
 tend; durch Ruedger Manessen, -weiland des Eathes der nralten Zyrich." 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 201 
 
 With Heinrich von Veldekin, in the year 1184^ not 
 only knightly poetry generally, but Minne poetry also, 
 reached its palmiest days. Contemporary with him — 
 possibly even a little before him — were Von Kiirenberg, 
 Dietmar von Eist, and some others. These sang in a 
 simpler strain, and for the most part in the Nibelungen- 
 strophe ; at times also in short minne-sentences, of one 
 or two strophes. There is a firm and heroic carriage 
 about their poetry, which makes the delicate and re- 
 fined touches here and there interspersed all the more 
 attractive. The falcon, with which the " Nibelungen- 
 lied" opens, is a favourite image of theirs. Thus 
 Kiirenberg makes his lady-love sing — 
 
 " I brought up a falcon for longer than a year ; 
 When I had tamed him just as I would, 
 And circled his plumage with gold, 
 Then he rose up aloft, and flew to other lands 
 Since then I haye seen him fly all hrilUant and fair ; 
 He bears on his foot silken thongs, 
 And his feathers gleam all red like gold. 
 God bring those together that fain would pair." 
 
 So Dietmar von Eist's love stands alone by the heath, 
 and awaits her lover, when she espies a falcon on the 
 wing, and sings: 
 
 " Good luck to thee, falcon, thou'rt off to thy love •, 
 Thou hast chosen one tree in the wood, 
 And so I have done ; my eyes chose one, 
 
 2 vols. 4. Supplement in Benecke's " Beitrage." In 1840 appeared von 
 der Hagen's " Minnesinger des 12, 13, 14 Jahrhunderts," &c., 3 vols. 4. 
 The last of which contains the biography of each poet. This laborious 
 and comprehensive work is deficient in criticism. The Weingartner 
 MS. was printed in 1843, and the Heidelberg MS. in 1844, both at thq 
 expense of the Literary Society at Stuttgart, 
 
 k5 
 
202 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 And for this they me envy, the beauteous dames j 
 Can't they leave me alone mth my joy ? 
 I don't long for any of their lovers." 
 
 Another time Kurenberg'^ love hears a voice singing, 
 
 as she stands late one evening on the battlements. She 
 
 cries, — 
 
 " That's the lay of the man who hence must go, 
 Or I can no longer resist him." 
 
 He answers : — 
 
 " NoTV bHng me my steed, and bring me my mail, 
 1 must out of the land for a lady's sake, 
 Who'll force me to adore her." 
 
 But the world must know nought of this, and he con- 
 tinues : — 
 
 " The even-star hides, and so do thou, 
 Fair lady, -when thou dost behold me: 
 Turn thine eyes on another. 
 That none may know 
 What's passed between us two," 
 
 Another poet is Friederich von Hausen*, a brave and 
 valiant knight from the Rhine, who is so lost in the 
 sweet remembrance of his love that he wished people 
 "Grood morning " when it was night. He told his love 
 how she alone had taken his heart captive, but she 
 won't believe him, until at last he took the cross and 
 started for Palestine with Frederick the Ked-beard. 
 Hereupon she calls him her iEneas, in allusion to Vel- 
 dekin's JEneis, which in those days was the mirror of 
 
 * His " Minnelieder " are to be found in Hagen's " Minnesinger," 
 i. 212. Concerning his life and death, see lachmann, " Zum Iwein," 
 4431, second edition, p. 317j Haupt, " Die Lieder und Buchlein," p. xvLj 
 Hagen, "Minnesinger," iv. 150. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 20S 
 
 Minne all over Germany, but at the same time assures 
 him she will never he his Dido. Having fastened the 
 sacred emblem to his breast, the knight sings :— 
 
 "Body and heart desire to part, 
 That lived so long a time together ; 
 My body would fain agamst Pagans flght, 
 But my heart loves a lady more than aught in the world. 
 !Pull sad am I that thus they'll sever. 
 Her eyes have the mischief done, 
 And God alone can the strife decide. 
 Since I can't quiet thee, my heart. 
 Nor still thine inward sorrow. 
 In God will I put my trust 
 
 I thought when I took the cross for the honour of God 
 That I should get rid of my pain ; 
 But my heart cares little what wiU become of me. 
 How oft have I begg'd and pray'd her. 
 But she would not imderstand. 
 Transient her vows as the summer brief 
 Of my joys, that I spent in Treves." 
 
 And so the knight leaves her, whom he had besought 
 in vain, but sends her many a warm greeting from be- 
 yond the sea. Sometimes he thinks of what he would 
 say if he was near her, and this shortens the tedium of 
 his journey. It was sad at home, but here it is three 
 times more so, but he consoles himself with the thought 
 that perhaps she will have a friendly recollection of 
 him, " for he of all men was her most devoted admirer." 
 In the MS. we have a miniature of the singer, standing 
 on ship-board, and casting a leaf into the sea for the 
 rolling waves to carry to the distant home of his love, 
 the home of his heart. Triederich von Hansen never 
 returned. After a valiant fight and glorious victory, 
 he fell nobly before the walls of Philomelium, in Asia 
 
 E 6 
 
204 GEEMAN LITEKATURE. 
 
 Minor, not many days before his master, the Emperor, 
 on the Monday after Ascension 1190, lamented by the 
 whole army. 
 
 Another of these poets was one Spervogel, whose 
 religious pieces at times verge on the sublime : — 
 
 " ' The herbs of the wood,' he sings, ' and the golden ore, 
 And the depths of the world are known to God ; 
 They are all in Thine hand, and the heavenly Hosts 
 Can never sufficiently praise Thee.' " 
 
 Again — 
 
 " He is mighty and strong, who was horn at Christmas tide, 
 Jesus the Holy, the theme of universal praise. 
 They that in darkness dwell. 
 And praise not Jesus, the Saviour, 
 On them the sun does not shine. 
 Nor the moon, nor the radiant stars. 
 In Heaven's a house, and a golden way leads thereto ; 
 It rests upon marble pillars, and shines with precious stones. 
 None may enter in but such as are free from sin." 
 
 But many of these old writers of sacred poetry in- 
 dulged in lighter effusions. Thus, Wemher von Te- 
 gernsee, the author of a life of the Virgin, could write 
 in this strain : — 
 
 " Thou art mine, and I am thine ; be of this assured ; 
 Locked up art thou in my heart, and the key is lost ; 
 Ever must thou there remain." 
 
 liines which we should be inclined rather to attribute 
 to a Tyrolese minstrel of our time than to a grave 
 monk of the year 1173. 
 
 Gottfried von Strassburg wrote a beautiful hymn, 
 ninety-four strophes long, in honour of the Virgin, 
 which begins thus : — " Thou rose-blossom, thou lily- 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 205 
 
 leaf, thou Queen of lofty estate, such as none hath 
 reached but thou ; thou hearts-ease for every pain, thou 
 joy in sorrow, to thee be sung praise and honour."* 
 
 There are likewise some remarkably pretty songs by 
 "Wolfram von Eschenbach, where the watchman on the 
 battlements announces the coming day, and warns the 
 lovers that it is time to separate. This form of poem 
 (Wachterlied) soon became very popular, and was con- 
 verted into a spiritual song. The latest of these sacred 
 songs is the well-known one by Philip Nicolai, " Wake 
 up, cries the voice." In like manner, Hartmann von 
 der Aue is not only a narrative poet, but also one of 
 the best of the Minnesingers. 
 
 Walther von der Vogelweide, on the other hand, 
 was purely a Minnesinger (unless he be the author of 
 " Freidank "), and indeed one of the best of them, if 
 not the very best. Some of his songs breathe nothing 
 but gentleness and affection ; some are jocund beyond 
 measure, while in others he sings, in deep and solemn 
 tones, not only the praises of God and the Virgin, 
 but also the transitoriness of worldly things, the 
 honour of the German people, the duties and dig- 
 nities of the Emperor, the obligations of his subjects, 
 the rights of the Pope, and the grandeur of that true 
 Church which does not strain after temporal power. 
 In fact, he spoke out the truth with calm simplicity, 
 giving expression to the sentiments of the noblest and 
 best part of the German nation. "Walther's earliest 
 productions date from about 1190, if not earlier. His 
 
 * This panegyric is printed complete, and with critical care, in Haupt's 
 " Zeitschrift," iv. 513-555. 
 
206 GEKMAK LITERATUEE. 
 
 " MInnelleder " are of this period. On the death of the 
 Emperor Heinrich VI., in 1197, he turned his atten- 
 tion more to public matters. After this he was twice 
 at the Thuringian Court, first in the time of the Land- 
 grave Hermann, and secondly in that of the Landgrave 
 Ludwig, the husband of St. Elizabeth. His last poems 
 were most probably composed in the year 1228, when 
 Frederick IL was preparing for his Crusade, in which 
 expedition he must have been personally present, if he 
 be the same person as the author of " Freidank." He 
 must have been of an unusually vigorous and active 
 frame, as at this period he was over sixty. 
 
 Walther's poems have been admirably translated into 
 modern German by Simrock, the editor of the " Nibe- 
 lungen " and " Parcival," with explanations by Wacker- 
 nagel. Uhland also wrote an excellent description of 
 his poetry. The most celebrated of Walther's " Minne- 
 lieder" is his " Praise of Women" (Lob der Frauen) : 
 
 " Durchsusset und gebliimet sind die reinen Ftanen ; 
 Es gab niemals so wonniglicbes anznsehaaen. 
 In Lnften nocli anf Erden noch in allengriinen Auen. 
 Lilien und der Kosen Blnmen, wo die leuchten 
 Im Maienthaue durch das Gras, und kleiner "Vogel Sang, 
 Sind gegen diesfe Wonne ohne Farb und Klang, 
 So man sieht schone Frauen. 
 Das kann den triiben Mut erquicken, 
 Und loschet alles Trauern an derselbe Stand, 
 Wenn lieblioh lacht in Lieb ihr siisser rother Mund, 
 Und Pfeir aus spiel'nden Angen schiessenins Mannes Herzens Grund." 
 
 Througbly sweet and blooming are the pure women ; 
 
 Never was there aught so enchanting to behold, 
 
 In the air or on the earth or in the verdant meadows. 
 
 The lilies and the roses, when they gleam 
 
 With May-dew through the grass ; the song of tiny birds, 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 207 
 
 Are, compared with this delight, reft of sound and colour, 
 Provided that we see beauteous ■women. 
 This can the gloomy mood hoth quicken, 
 And extinguish sadness j the selfsame hour 
 When their sweet red mouth so loving smiles, 
 And shafts from their playful eyes pierce into the bottom of man's 
 heart. 
 
 Not less renowned is one of his political poems : 
 
 " leh sass auf einem Steine," 
 etc. 
 
 Here, after passing a sharp censure on the contest 
 for the imperial throne, and the political intrigues of 
 the Court of Rome, he complains, in tones of deep 
 sadness, of the transitoriness of all that had contri- 
 buted to render his own life dear to him and happy. 
 
 " O weh, wohin geschwunden sind alle meine Jahr,'" 
 
 etc, 
 
 Walther died at Wurzburg, and lies buried under a 
 tree in the Minster Garden. He bequeathed a sum to 
 purchase bread for his friends the birds; and for a 
 number of years they were regularly fed upon his 
 grave-stone, where he had caused four holes to be made 
 for the purpose. At last, in the fifteenth century, the 
 greedy monks appropriated the dole to themselves. 
 But it was only in modern times that the tomb was 
 destroyed.* 
 
 * Walther's poems have been twice published^ with explanation by 
 Lachmann, viz. in 1827 and 1843 (third edition superintended by Haupt, 
 1853). Compare Uhland, "Walther von der Vogelweide," 1821, and 
 " Gedichte Walthers, &o., iibersetzt von K. Simrock und Wilhelm 
 Wackemagel, 1833." See Walther's Life, in Hagen's "Minnesinger,*' 
 iv. p. 160. One of the most important events in his life was discovered 
 and cleared up by Karajan, in "Ueber zwei Gedichte Walthers," &c., 
 Wien, 1851. 
 
208 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Another Minnesinger was Ulrich von Liechtensteinj 
 the ancestor of the princely Austrian house of that 
 name, who has left us a perfect account of his three- 
 and-thirty years' experiences as a poet and knight. 
 This work, entitled " Frauendienst " (Service of the 
 Ladies), has been edited by Tieck, Here we see the 
 transition of poetry into reality, — the mixing up of 
 the pure ideal with the incidents of common life, — 
 a realisation, in fact, of the poetry of Gottfried von 
 Strasburg, — all which denotes the approaching decay 
 of this sort of poetry. The whole is composed with 
 much ndiveti and ease. Numerous love-songs are 
 interspersed, not to mention love-letters (Biichlein), 
 of which we have many specimens dating from that 
 period, some by Hartmann. 
 
 Whilst still a boy, Ulrich had heard sung that no- 
 body could ever attain to honour unless he was ready 
 to be the faithful servant of the fair sex, and loved as 
 his own soul some good and virtuous damsel. This was 
 a part of a true knight's duties. And such good heed 
 did he take of this lesson, that on becoming, at the age 
 of twelve (about 1211), the page of a noble lady (pro- 
 bably a princess of Meran), he at once fell in love with 
 his mistress. When he brought her flowers, he re^ 
 joiced that her white fingers touched what had been 
 touched by his own; nay, he would drink the water 
 that had been poured over her delicate hands. After 
 learning the knightly arts of tilting and tourney, he is 
 dubbed a knight. One of his female friends, learning 
 the secret of his passion, offers to mediate between 
 the two. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 209 
 
 The princess listens to his addresses, but only in a 
 Platonic sense. One of her objections to him is, that 
 he has an ugly mouth — an objection not ill-founded, 
 for he has three lips instead of two. On hearing this, 
 he rides oiF to a doctor in Styria, who cuts off the 
 swelling which bore the appearance of a third lip. He 
 submits to the operation without flinching. On his 
 recovery, the lady consents to an interview, but merely 
 in order to see how his lip looks. The way in which 
 he describes his own bashfalness, and how, when his 
 heart bid him speak, his courage failed him, and how 
 the lady, to punish him, plucks a lock of hair from his 
 head just when he is helping her to dismount, are all 
 told in the simplest and liveliest style imaginable. 
 
 In one of the many encounters that he braved in 
 honour of his mistress, the little finger of his right 
 hand was left hanging by a bit of skin. The lady 
 hearing that he had lost his finger in her service, 
 expresses her sorrow for him. But being subsequently 
 informed that the finger was still on his hand, she 
 accuses him of falsehood. On this he gets a friend to 
 cut off the digit in question, which had already begun 
 to heal, and sends it to the princess in a case of green 
 velvet with a lid of gold, accompanied by a love-letter. 
 But the hopes of the fantastic knight are doomed to 
 disappointment. The lady will have nothing to do 
 with him. Upon this he dresses himself up as the 
 Lady Minne or Venus, and with a quantity of atten- 
 dants in costly attire parades through Austria, bringing 
 together a vast concourse wherever he goes. For 
 Lady Minne, as she was called, travelled about to 
 
210 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 prove the valour of the knights in the tournament, 
 and distributed golden rings to all who broke a lance 
 with her; which rings had the power of gaining and 
 retaining a lady's love. All this took place solely in 
 honour of a lady who was already married ; the poet 
 himself being also, as he ingenuously informs us, in a 
 similar predicament, and the father of a family of chil- 
 dren. Here, then, we have a foreign Tristan or Lan- 
 celot in German reality. But his love was no Isolde or 
 Ginevra. The lady's pure mind and firm resolve were 
 proof against his attacks. Pretending to listen to his 
 suit, she admits him through the window of her cham- 
 ber. But he is instantaneously pitched out again in 
 a most ludicrous manner, rolling down the wall, with 
 the loose stones rolling after him, and by his cries 
 alarming the warders, who cross themselves, think- 
 ing it is the foul fiend himself bundling out of the 
 castle. This notable event took place in the night 
 of the 14th of June 1227. The lover's ardour is by 
 no means cooled by this reception. He becomes 
 desperate, wants to drown himself, and begins singing 
 and love-letter writing as much as ever. The lady* 
 urges him to go to the Crusades and forget her ; but 
 he is much too love-sick to make the attempt. For 
 four years longer he continues to persecute her, until 
 at last she serves him a trick more degrading than 
 before ; so degrading, in fact, that he does not venture 
 to narrate it. Cured at length of this folly, he com- 
 
 * I'rau. This word, -which now signifies -woman, or -wife, then meant 
 the adored mistress of the heart ; while -weib, or gemahel, -was the term 
 for woman in her more prosaic relation of wife. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 211 
 
 mences writing doleful ditties and lampoons on faithless 
 women. Presently, however, he selects another mis- 
 tress, and to do her honour rides about the country 
 with a magnificent retinue, in the character of King 
 Artus. His attendants he names Gawein, Lanzelot, 
 Iwein, Kalogreant, &c. And all this strange stuff is 
 told us by a man of six-and-fifty, who narrates the 
 pranks of twenty or thirty years ago as if he had only 
 just played them. Whether he ever sobered down is 
 very doubtful. Time enough he certainly had to do so, 
 for he lived to the age of seventy-six.* At any rate, 
 we learn from this poem what an influence the British 
 romances, " Tristan " especially, must have had ; and it 
 thus also becomes comprehensible how the word Minne, 
 even so early as the fourteenth century, came to bear 
 an impure signification ; and in the fifteenth was con- 
 sidered too bad to pass the lips. At last, after three 
 hundred years had passed away, it reappeared in its 
 ancient purity and dignity. 
 
 In the numerous poems of Sir Nithart we have 
 another unpleasant side of the Minne-song, This poet, 
 who was a Bavarian by birth, and whose tomb is still 
 to be seen in the church of St. Stephen, at Vienna, 
 lived about the same time as UlricL Like the rest of 
 his brother poets, he begins with descriptions of nature, 
 praises of spring and the flowers ; he then passes into 
 praises of the fair ; but soon after most of his pieces 
 
 * " Ulrich von Lichtenstein, mit Anmerkungen von T. von Karajan," 
 ed. Lachmann, 1841. In Lachmann's edition is also Ulrich's "Frauen- 
 buoh." Ulrich wrote the " Frauendienst," 1255; the " Frauenbnoh,'' 
 1257. He was bom probably 1199 (1200), and died 1274 or 1276. See 
 his life in Hagen, iv. p. 321. 
 
212 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 degenerate into descriptions of the peasant life of those 
 days, and how they aped the knights in dress and 
 armour. (The word dorper, applied by Nithart to 
 these simple villagers, is the original of the modern 
 Tolpel, clown.) Nithart's best descriptions are those 
 of the peasant dances, and the horse-play they and he 
 practised iipon each other. Instead, therefore of de- 
 picting the gentle emotions and inward fancies of love, 
 he descends more to vulgar realities, which become 
 interesting by the happy humour with which he de- 
 scribes them. The measure of these poems is uncom- 
 monly lively, just suited to the bouncing dance and 
 riotous mirth of a village festival. The descriptions 
 are full of vigour, and at times approach the genuine 
 popular tone, while words are used which the polished 
 language of the day rejected as obsolete. Neverthe- 
 less, Nithart's poetry was by no means intended for 
 the masses, but rather for the edification of the higher 
 circles at the expense of the peasants; in short, he 
 forms the link connecting the courtly Minne-song with 
 comedy and popular poetry. For centuries his works 
 were famous, and were printed tiU late in the sixteenth 
 century. His pranks among the peasants elevated him 
 into a sort of mythical personage, under the name of 
 Bauernfeind. By some he became confused with the 
 merry priest of Kalenberg, who lived a century later, 
 and by others he was called a second Eulenspiegel. 
 Upon the whole, he may be placed by the side of Amis 
 and Morolf, as the representative of comedy and satire 
 in the period we are describing.* 
 
 * Nithart's life (by Wackemagel) is in Hagen, iv. p. 435. His 
 poems, ibid. ii. 98., iii. 183., i68d-i68g. But many of these are not 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 213 
 
 Helnrich von Meissen, called " Frauenlob," is an 
 Instance among the Minnesingers of those peculiar 
 defects which, as in the case of Konrad von Wiirzburg, 
 marked a decline in poetical taste. Complaints of not 
 being sufficiently appreciated by his contemporaries; 
 parade of learning ; introduction of all sorts of hetero- 
 geneous characters into his pieces — such as King Arthur 
 and Ahasuerus, Solomon and Sampson, Aristotle and 
 Sigfrid ; great artificiality of form and metre : such are 
 some of his characteristics. One of his measures, his 
 zarter Ton, has no less than twenty-one rhymes in a 
 strophe, while another, his iiberzarter, has as many as 
 thirty-four. His Leich on the Holy Virgin is an ex- 
 traordinary combination of scholastic erudition and 
 metrical artifice. 
 
 Like most of the later Minnesingers, he was not a 
 knight, nor yet a doctor of theology, as tradition re- 
 lates, but a strolling minstrel of the middle class, He 
 was called " Frauenlob " from the praises bestowed by 
 him on the women, among whom he stood in great 
 repute. The latter part of his life he resided at 
 Mayence, where he founded the school of Master- 
 singers. On his death in 1318, his body was carried 
 to the grave by the weeping women of Mayence, who, 
 
 his. Nithart is cited (almost proverbially) by W. Ton Escbenbaeh, in 
 " Willehalm," 212, 12-13. He lived at the court of Frederick "der 
 Streitbar" of Austria, who died 1246. But Nithart was not then living, 
 because he is spoken of as dead in Wernher's " Meier Helmbrecht " (see 
 note, p. 176), which was written in the lifetime of Frederick. 
 
 Der Neidhart Fuchs, who, according to several chroniclers in the 
 fourteenth century, lived at the Austi-ian court, under Otto the Jovial, 
 and is said to have played similar pranks with the peasants, can only be 
 indebted for his existence to a confusion of persons or names. 
 
214 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 with loud lamentations, poured so much wine upon his 
 grave that the whole church swam with it.* 
 
 The piece still extant, under the title of the " San- 
 gerkrieg auf der Wartburg " (the Contest of the Singers 
 on the Wartburg), is written chiefly in this learned and 
 artificial manner. It is possible that such a contest 
 actually did take place on the Wartburg in the year 
 1206 or 1207, the year when St. Elizabeth was born. 
 But the circumstances under which it arose are un- 
 questionably imaginary, and seem to have been a kind 
 of mournful reminiscence of times gone by, when poetry 
 stood in high estimation. The first part could not have 
 been written earlier than the first half of the thirteenth 
 century. The second part, when the mythical Klingsohr 
 of Hungary makes his appearance, and has a contest 
 of wit with Wolfram of Eschenbach, is of much later 
 date.f 
 
 It now remains for us only to advert briefly to the 
 prose productions of this first classical period of German 
 literature; if such can be said to have existed at a 
 period when the life of the people was instinct with 
 poetry. The very law-books of that day, the Schwaben- 
 spiegel, the Sachsenspiegel, and others, breathe the 
 poetical spirit of the time. Still more so is this the 
 case with the productions of eloquence, — the sermons. 
 What softness and flexibility of language, what poetical 
 
 * "Heinrich von Meissen des Frauenlobs Leiehe, Spriiche, Streit- 
 gedichte und Lieder," &c. Bttmiiller, 1843. 
 
 f The " Sangerkrieg" is in Hagen, ii. p. 2. seq. Compare J. Grimm, 
 "Uber den altd. Melstergesang," p. 77.; Koberstein, "Uber das Alter, 
 &c. des Gedichts von Wartburger Kriege," 1823; Lucas, "Uber den 
 Krieg von Wartburg," 1838. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 215 
 
 sublimity joined with earnest teaching, what delicacy 
 and force combined ; how affectionate and cheerful, and 
 yet how strict ! It is the outpouring of a heart filled 
 with the importance and truth of the subject, — of a 
 speaker who will not stoop to ornament to give effect 
 to his message. 
 
 These sermons, in fact, of the twelfth and thirteenth 
 century, of which a tolerable quantity is still extant, 
 might well serve as models of pulpit eloquence at the 
 present day. In those times, monks of the Mendicant 
 order wandered about Germany, full of genuine na- 
 tional feeling, and sympathizing with the ignorant mul- 
 titude, to whom neither Benedictine nor Secular cared 
 to preach. Thousands would flock to listen to their 
 words, at one time in the cathedral or in the pulpit 
 outside of it, at another on the mountain side or under 
 the green linden tree. Berthold, the Franciscan monk 
 of Eegensburg, a native of Winterthur in Switzerland, 
 was one of these preachers. Vast crowds followed him 
 about the country ; and it is said that sometimes his 
 audience numbered as many as twenty thousand. 
 Many of his sermons are still extant; a glance at 
 which will be sufficient to show the secret of his great 
 popularity.* 
 
 * Berthold died 1272. Eleven of his sermons were published by Ch. 
 Kling, 1824. Compare J. Grimm's "Eecension, Wiener Jarbiicher," 
 1825, voL xxxii. He was a pupil of the Minorite, Brother Dayid, who, 
 besides numerous works in Latin, has left German ascetic treatises, 
 printed in Pfeiffer's "Deutsche Mystiker, des 14 Jarh.'' 1845, 1 vol. 
 pp. 309 and 375. Other sermons have been published in a separate 
 form by Leyser, 1838 j Both, 1839 ; Gricshaber, 1844 and 1846 j also 
 in collections, as Graff's " Diutiska," Hoffmann's "Puudgruben," Mone's 
 •' Anzliger," 
 
216 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 The period to which we shall now turn, viz., from the 
 beginning of the fourteenth to the end of the fifteenth 
 century, exhibits an utter decay of all those great qua- 
 lities that distinguished the poetry of the thirteenth 
 century. We now enter upon a poetical wilderness, 
 with only a few solitary oases in it to arrest our course. 
 
 With the fall of the Hohenstaufens the political 
 condition of Germany altered. Eudolf of Hapsburg 
 studied his own interests more than those of the empire, 
 and was less solicitous for the honour of Germany than 
 for the aggrandisement of his own family. And so it was, 
 that when the Minnesingers hastened to the Imperial 
 court, hoping great things for poetry from the newly- 
 elected Eudolf, they were bitterly disappointed. That 
 generous patronage under which letters flourished 
 during the Hohenstaufen dynasty, was withheld by 
 the house of Hapsburg. Rudolf wished to have Austria 
 and her love, but not Austria's love-songs. The min- 
 strels who sought his court went away poor and 
 neglected ; and their poems are full of sad complainings 
 at their lot. And as it was with the Emperor, so it 
 was with the other princes of the land. Busied in the 
 fruitless conflict of parties, they had no leisure for 
 song, and so the singers, from the absence of listeners, 
 became mute. As time progressed, things grew worse. 
 Eudolf 's successors were actuated by the same spirit. 
 The impulses which had been awakened by the Crusades 
 gradually died out ; the eye of the nobility no longer 
 dwelt upon some grand and distant object; Ideal 
 aspirations no longer warmed their bosom ; and. In- 
 stead, they became infected with a cold, narrow egotism. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 217 
 
 Endless feuds and contentions ensued in consequence; 
 the law of might prevailed, — a state of things which 
 continued from the middle of the fourteenth to the 
 beginning of the sixteenth century, and which the 
 temporal power failed to put an end to. If to this be 
 added the dreadful scourges of plague and famine 
 which visited Europe in the middle of the fourteenth 
 century, and threw Germany into an agony of alarm, 
 we shall cease to wonder that poetry vanished. Iq 
 such times there was no place for it. In the fifteenth 
 century the prospect was still gloomier. For not only 
 had politics degenerated into a nonentity, but it was the 
 same with the Church and with morals. The feud 
 between the Emperor, Lewis the Bavarian, and the 
 Pope, who placed Germany under an interdict, shook 
 the people's religious belief to its centre. 
 
 Forgetful of their sacred calling, the clergy went 
 beyond the laity in sensuality and egotism, and so lost 
 the control which they formerly possessed over the 
 rude manners and barbarous tendencies of the age. 
 The two pillars of German poetry, Truthfulness and 
 Christian faith, tottered ; and with them the graceful 
 structure that had been raised upon them. Archi- 
 tecture and painting, it is true, flourished in the 
 fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and afford us a 
 mournful solace for the loss of their parents, the 
 manly Heroic song and lovely Minne poetry of bygone 
 days. 
 
 There were other causes contributing to the decay 
 of poetry. As the power of the Emperor and the 
 nobles diminished, the towns rose Into importance with 
 
 L 
 
218 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 their trade and manufactures ; but trade and manufac- 
 tures have never been congenial to poetry. 
 
 Again, that tendency to inventions and discoveries, 
 and the mastery of the powers of nature, which first 
 made its appearance in the fourteenth century, and 
 which is in fact the distinguishing mark of that and 
 the succeeding century, was anything but favourable to 
 poetry. Poetry lost rather than gained by the dis- 
 covery of new worlds by the invention of the compass, 
 of gunpowder, of watches, nay, even by that of printing. 
 At the close of the fifteenth century, when material 
 activity was at its zenith, poetry was at the lowest ebb. 
 
 Indeed, those periods of the world's history, in which 
 the mind of man has been wholly and successfully bent 
 on the subjugation of nature's powers, and on the 
 development and application of the exact sciences, have 
 never been morally or poetically great. Before printing 
 was invented, a pget's works passed current only among 
 an initiated few ; kindred spirits, in fact, who took an 
 interest in such matters ; they never fell into the hands 
 of the profane crowd who cared for none of those 
 things. 
 
 But with the invention of printing all was altered. 
 The poet had no longer before him distinct persons, 
 living faces, so to say, looking on him, respect for 
 whom would make him careful what he wrote and what 
 he recited. His critics now were a heterogeneous, in- 
 distinct mass, called the public, of whom he knew 
 little, and for whom he cared less. This contempt for 
 his readers lasted till late in the sixteenth century. No 
 wonder that under such circumstances the number of 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 219 
 
 base mechanical poetasters, miscalled poets, became 
 incredible. 
 
 From that time to the present, poetry became a mere 
 matter for the eye, something to be read ; whilst, be- 
 fore the days of printing, it was an affair of song and 
 recitation, — a poetry instinct with life, and worthy of 
 the name. The world would never have had its 
 " Iliad," its " Odyssey," and its " Nibelungenlied," had 
 the then race of men been acquainted with printing. 
 Under the empire of the press, poetry ceased to have 
 a tradition ; and exactly in proportion as that empire 
 extended, German heroic poetry declined ; and it is not 
 a little singular that the only genuine poetry of the 
 fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was in the possession 
 of persons who could neither read nor write. We 
 allude to the Volkslied, or national song. 
 
 Printing chiefly served the purposes of learning 
 Only ; and it is learning that we must number among 
 the enemies of poetry after the fourteenth century. 
 "We have seen her threatening in the thirteenth cen- 
 tury; working prejudicially in the fourteenth; and 
 now in the fifteenth, she becomes poetry's deadly foe. 
 This hostility was kept up unflaggingly even down to 
 the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries ; and it was 
 only in the second classical period of German poetry 
 that she was repulsed, though by no means vanquished. 
 The wounds she inflicted are not even now scarred over. 
 That subtle Invention of the mixed Romance peoples 
 which was cultivated with such surprising acutenessj — 
 we mean the Scholastic Philosophy, — began to be known 
 and represented in Germany as early as the thirteenth 
 
 L 2 
 
220 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 century. Early in the fourteenth it took up its quar- 
 ters in Prague, and then in Heidelberg, and a century 
 later in Leipsic. Knowledge began to preponderate 
 over living experience, to an extent which augured 
 little good. A separation was the quick result, not 
 such as that between the various grades of society, or 
 between clergy and laity, but the separation between, 
 the men of knowledge and those who knew nothing. 
 The former, in accordance with the proverb, " Know- 
 ledge puffeth up," despised the latter, and holding them 
 to be unworthy of their own lofty position, and in- 
 capable of attaining to it, left them to the deepest 
 barbarism. All poetry that did not suit their peculiar 
 theories of wisdom, they ignored. Hence it is that in 
 this period, especially the former half of it, two sorts of 
 poetry are met with : one artificial, erudite, subtle, and 
 stilted, such as we indicated in the case of Frauenlob ; 
 the other rude, uncouth, and clumsy. The former was 
 in the service of the wise, the latter of the unwise. 
 But wisdom soared so rapidly, that the first of these 
 was left altogether in the lurch, and the last alone 
 survived. This, in so far as it treated of national 
 subjects, belonged to the old heroic poetry, and was, in 
 fact, a continuation of it, and, as such, was regarded 
 by the men of wisdom as mere stuff and nonsense. 
 
 Indeed, the chief characteristic of the poetry of this 
 age may be pronounced an endeavour to return to the 
 old national tone. In the fifteenth century, when, from 
 the causes just mentioned, poetry had fallen deeply 
 enough, the revival of letters, as it is called, took 
 place; that is to say, people were made acquainted 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 221 
 
 ■with the original Greek and Roman clasaics. Placed 
 side by side with these, the German poetry of the day 
 cut a sorrier figure than ever, and national poetry, 
 national spirit, and independence became at a total 
 discount. Nothing would now go down with the 
 reading and writing world but Latin poetry. The 
 learned actually grew ashamed of their mother tongue, 
 and with much simpHcity acknowledged that they were 
 mere benighted barbarians till the light of Greek and 
 Latin poetry rose upon their view. The ancient gran- 
 deur of the German empire and its head, the ancient 
 grandeur of German poetry, were forgotten as though 
 they had never been. Philological poetry now seized 
 upon the vacant throne, and with its fine phrases ruled 
 the world for fiiU 300 years. 
 
 Of the advantage which German poetry derived 
 from philological research, we shall speak hereafter. 
 
 So much for German poetry's external foes. Its 
 enemies within next claim our attention. It will be 
 necessary here to go back a little. We have seen that 
 early in the thirteenth century, when German poetry 
 was in full bloom, its noblest and most gifted votaries 
 did not select the noblest themes to descant upon. 
 Instead of bringing the light of their genius to bear on 
 the immortal materials of national epic, they frittered 
 away their powers on foreign and trivial subjects. The 
 heroic sagas of their country they pass by with neglect, 
 if not contempt, not foreseeing the retribution which 
 would necessarily follow. That tendency of the in- 
 ferior poets of the thirteenth century to prefer form to 
 substance, art to nature, plainly indicated how things 
 
 t 3 
 
222 GERMAN LITESATUEE. 
 
 would end. The love of highly-coloured descriptions 
 which characterised the poets of that day, was a sure 
 sign of impending decline. The tints, from being 
 bright, presently become glaring ; and so, by an easy 
 transition, in place of the exquisite and delicate han- 
 dling which we so admired in Wolfram, Hartmann, 
 and Gottfried, we pass into the most coarse and vulgar 
 common-place. The original expressions of earlier 
 poets, in them so natural and so becoming, by degrees 
 grew into phrases, until at last, when the decline of 
 poetry fairly set in, hese became in the mouths of 
 their successors unmeaning nonsense. Just in the 
 same way the poetasters of some years ago bandied 
 about the glowing words of Schiller and Gothe, not 
 knowing what they were talking about ; and the 
 pseudo-patriotic writers between 1838 and 1848 de- 
 graded the cries of freedom of 1813 and 1814 into 
 meaningless phraseology. Again, the noble and melo- 
 dious dialect, which at the beginning of the thirteenth 
 century had grown into the common language of the 
 educated classes, in the two succeeding centuries ber 
 came debased, and ceased to be the exclusive vehicle of 
 poetry, which adopted first one dialect, then another, 
 at will. It is true that all the poets of the period now 
 under consideration do not share equally in the defects 
 above mentioned. There is a great difference between 
 those of the fourteenth and those of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury ; indeed, the latter are so universally defective, 
 that they deserve the name of clumsy rhymers rather 
 than of poets. In the latter century, the accentuation 
 of the words, which in the thirteenth century was so 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 22S 
 
 exceedingly fine and subtle, began to waver; while 
 in the metre we meet not unfrequently with a foot too 
 much or too little. Add to which, the old rule of dis- 
 tributing the sense over two verses is lost sight of; and 
 after the fourteenth century almost every line com- 
 pletes a sentence ; so that the pairs of rhymes, which 
 sounded so musically in the mouths of Hartmann, 
 Gottfried, and Wolfram, become wearisome and mo- 
 notonous. 
 
 The prose works, however, of the fifteenth century, 
 when poetry had sunk as deeply as it well could do, 
 have something very hearty and attractive about them. 
 The language is sonorous, and the sentences smooth 
 and rounded, — qualities which the sixteenth century, 
 so fertile in prose, might well envy 
 
 And now for a brief survey of the poetical pro- 
 ductions of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. 
 
 The old national epic still continues in the minds 
 and mouths of the people throughout the whole of this 
 period. Versions appeared of the " Eavenna Schlacht," 
 the " Rosengarten," " Konig Laurin," and other Sagas 
 belonging to the Dietrich of Bern group. But in 
 these we miss the firm connected shape of the original, 
 and the descriptions are disjointed and confused-. 
 In one single point, however, progress is visible, 
 we mean the versification. The old long lines of the 
 Nibelungen strophe, which could only coexist with 
 the ancient language, now became a strophe of eight 
 short lines which rhymed alternately ; the uneven lines 
 with double rhymes, the even with single rhymes as 
 heretofore. 
 
 L 4 
 
224 6EEMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 At the same time the fourth foot in the second half 
 of what was formerly the fourth long line was now 
 done away with in its equivalent, the eighth short line ; 
 so that all the lines of the strophe now had an equal 
 number of feet. This form, which became the pre- 
 vailing one in the fifteenth century, was originally 
 called Hildebrandston, from the Hildebrandslied, which 
 had continued to be the people's chief favourite ; and 
 all the most popular songs of the fifteenth and six- 
 teenth centuries were written in it. Subsequently, 
 this strophe went by other appellations, e. g. the Ben- 
 zenauer Ton, from a song hereafter to be mentioned ; 
 " Herzlich thut mich erfreuen," from another song be- 
 ginning with the above words ; " WUhelm von Nassau," 
 and so forth. This harmonious strophe has continued 
 for centuries to be the people's favourite, and is still 
 used by the Grerman ballad singers of the present day. 
 Protestant hymns, e. g. that still sung in German 
 churches " Befiehl du deine Wege," are also in the 
 same shape. Nay, in many modern art-poems this old 
 strophe is adopted, e. g. in " Frisch auf zum frolichen 
 Jagen ;" " Dir folgen meine Thranen ;" and others. 
 
 In this strophe, then, there appeared, during the first 
 half of the fifteenth century, versions of such second- 
 rate poems as " Otnit," " Hug-" and « Wolf-dietrich," 
 and " Eosengarten ;" not of the Nibelungenlied ; that 
 was a cut above the degenerate tastes of the age. In these 
 Versions much of the beauty of the original is sacrificed 
 to the rhyme ; but notwithstanding many defects, they 
 are, upon the whole, not unpleasing : lively and fresh 
 they certainly are. To these three poems was added 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD, 225 
 
 another, viz. " Konig Laurin ;" and these four together 
 were called the " Heldenbuch." This was twice printed 
 in the fifteenth century, and several times in the six- 
 teenth*, and serves to keep alive some remembrance of 
 the old heroic poetry till the end of that century, until 
 at last, in the seventeenth century, the " Heldenbuch " 
 also fell into contempt and oblivion, and the great days 
 of old were utterly forgotten. 
 
 About the year 1472, these subjects, viz. "Otnit," 
 " Wolf-dietrich," " Rosengarten," with several other 
 Sagas belonging to the Etzel and Dietrich group, were 
 elaborated afresh by Kaspar von der Roenf , of Miinner- 
 stadt; and this version was also called by its editor. 
 Von der Hagen, the " Heldenbuch." | 
 
 This second version is a most lamentable affair, and 
 tasteless beyond conception. AU that is good and 
 genuine and poetical in the old poems, the author has 
 struck out as though on purpose. Indeed he plumes 
 himself on having eliminated "much useless talk." 
 By only one of his contemporaries, presently to be 
 mentioned, is this Caspar surpassed. 
 
 As for the art epic, the old poems of Charlemagne 
 are now almost forgotten. 
 
 The later poems, " Heimonskinder," " Ogier von 
 
 * The oldest edition of the " Heldenbuch " does not give the place and 
 the date of the publication; the second is 1491; others, 1509, 1545, 
 1560, 1590. 
 
 t He was most likely a bankelsanger, or ballad-singer, so qalled be- 
 cause these people mounted on banke (benches) to recite their compo- 
 sitions. 
 
 I Kaspar von der Eoen's version of the " Heldensagas," much of 
 ■which is taken from originals now lost, is printed in Hagen and Pri- 
 misser's " Heldenbuch," in the original language, 1820 and 1825. 
 
 L 5 
 
226 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Danemark," " Malagis der Zauterer," " Valentin und 
 Namelos," &c., were now imported from the Nether- 
 lands, and appeared in mere translations. Of the 
 Alexander Saga wretched versions continued to appear. 
 At the beginning of the fourteenth century the notable 
 discovery was made that Wolfram had omitted many 
 most important adventures of Parcival's in the Grai- 
 Saga ; and accordingly, in 1336, one Von Eapoltstein 
 caused a translation to be made of these additions from 
 the French work of Menessier, and interpolated them 
 in Wolfram's " Parcival." * 
 
 But this is nothing to the doings of Ulrich Futerer, 
 or Fiirterer, a Bavarian poet, by trade a heraldic 
 painter, who in the year 1478, produced a kind of 
 cyclic poem, containing all the separate Sagas of the 
 Artus group connected together, and written in the 
 Titurel-strophe. This monstrosity was never printed. 
 It is only a proof of the poetical degeneracy of the 
 age, that an uncouth rhymster should have ventured 
 ■ to produce a couple of folios of absurdities, written in 
 that ingenious metre which none but its inventor, that 
 deep-thinker and dexterous master of language, Wolfram 
 von Eschenbach, knew how to manage. The prose 
 versions of " Tristan and Isolt," dating 1470-1480, are 
 of a better stamp. 
 
 The old legendary poetry stiU continued to be cul- 
 tivated during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
 and in the early part of the former century with 
 success. Such, for instance, was a grand Passionale 
 
 • On the version of " Parcival," at the instance of M. von Eapoltstein, 
 see A. Keller, Romvart, 1844, p. 647. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 227 
 
 (passion-poem), containing an account of our Saviour 
 and the Virgin, and also of the Apostles, and some 
 later saints.*! Another piece, "Littower," gives the 
 history of the conversion of a heathen king. It was 
 written by one Schondoch, a poet not otherwise 
 known. This legend, which is also told of the Saxon 
 Wittekind, relates how that the pagan, in the disguise 
 of a beggar, stole into a church meditating evil against 
 the Christian monarch and his religion, when suddenly, 
 from the uplifted Host, issues a child of wonderful 
 beauty, and comes towards him unseen by all the rest. 
 He is then seized, and led into the presence of the 
 Christian king ; his heart is moved, he receives the rite 
 of baptism with his followers, and humbles himself 
 before the Lord of Heaven. All this is told with 
 much grace and simplicity.f 
 
 In the second half, however, of the fourteenth and 
 throughout the fifteenth century, the verse-legends fall 
 off considerably, and become coarse and exaggerated in 
 the extreme. Such was Hermann of Sachsenheim's 
 " Golden Temple," an imitation of Conrad of Wurz- 
 burg's " Golden Smith." In the " Travels of Saint 
 
 * "Das alte Passional," ed. K. Hahn, 1845. Here, however, are 
 wanting, besides several legends of the Madonna, the whole of the third 
 book. Compare "Marienlegenden," Stuttgart, 1846, ed. Pfeiffer. The 
 third book was published in 1852 by P. Kbplce, " Das Passional, &c. 
 des 13 Jahrhunderts." The first book contains the legends of "Jesus 
 and Maria ;" the second, those of the " Apostles ;" the third, those of 
 the " Saints," arranged according to the calendar. The work contains 
 at least 100,000 verses. 
 
 If this work belongs to the thirteenth century, which Vilmar now 
 thinks, it will come above, p. 156. 
 
 f An edition for private circulation was prepared in 1826 by Joseph 
 
 von Lassberg. 
 
 L 6 
 
228 6BEMAX LITEHATUEE. 
 
 Brandanus" we have a heap of all sorts of wonderful 
 adventures, most likely taken from some older com- 
 positions which have been lost.* To obtain a fair 
 notion of the vast difference between the legends of the 
 close of the thirteenth century (and that was not the 
 best period) and those of the fifteenth, we need only 
 compare the old poem of S. Elizabeth with the miser- 
 able rhymings of Johann Eothe in 1430, although the 
 last is much the best known of the two.f After this, . 
 legendary poetry passes into legendary prose. 
 
 It may here be stated parenthetically, that " Reineke 
 Vos," already mentioned, is by far the best of all 
 the extant narrative poems of the fifteenth century. 
 This period is very rich in tales, not based on the great 
 saga-groups, but on modern or historical occurrences ; 
 the more out-of-the-way and strange, and the more 
 distorted and overlaid with a tissue of extraneous 
 legend, the better. Allegory was next taken up — a sure 
 sign of a declining poetry. It would profit little to enter 
 at length into a description of these works. Such were 
 
 • Brandanus, an Irish bishop, is said to have died in 577. The story 
 of his adventures must be of Irish origin ; it has obtained a ■wiie circu- 
 lation. Even in the "Sangerkrieg auf derWartburg" (Minnesinger, ii. 
 Str. 46 and .56) reference is made to these legends. There is a High-Ger- 
 man poetical version, still unprinted. A Low-German version, perhaps of 
 tie fourteenth century, taken from the Dutch, is to be found in Brun's 
 " Romantische nnd andere Gediohte in altplatt-deutscher Sprache," 1798, 
 p. 159. In the fifteenth century, the travels of S. Brandanus seem to 
 have been particularly popular, as a quantity of editions appeared of the 
 story, but in a prose shape. 
 
 t Johannes Eothe's " Leben der heil. Elizabet" is in Menken, "Script, 
 rer. Germ." ii., but printed from the worst manuscript existing. The 
 prologue, wherein the author mentions himself is in " Bragur," tL 2. 
 p. 140. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD, 229 
 
 the version of the old Oriental saga of "Apollonlus of 
 Tyre," written at the beginning of the fifteenth century 
 by one Helnrioh von der Neustadt, of Vienna*, or 
 " Duke William of Austria," f a work written at the 
 beginning of the fourteenth century ; " Friedrich von 
 Schwaben,"t and others. The " Seven Wise.Masters" 
 is an Indian story, first translated from Indian into Ara- 
 ble ; from that language into Greek, from Greek into 
 Latin, from Latin into French, and thence into German 
 rhymes, by Hans Bliheler, one of the better poets of the 
 commencement of the fifteenth century, and still current 
 in a prose shape.§ Some of these productions, however, 
 
 • The Greek story of ApoUonius of Tyre, -which was widely circu- 
 lated, and of which there was even a prose version in Anglo-Saxon (ed. 
 Thorpe, 1834), was known also in Germany as early as the twelfth 
 century, for in Lamprecht's " Alexander" it is referred to, in the account 
 of the destruction of Tyre. The rhyme version by Heinrich von 
 (Wienerisch) Neustadt stiU remains unprinted. A prose version, com- 
 posed by Heinrich Steinhofel, of Weil, after Gotfrid of Viterbo, was 
 published in 1471. Compare "Wiener Jarb.," 1823, vol. 22. p. 62. 
 
 t The poem of "William and his Beautifiil Agleie" was written in 
 1314 by Johann von Wiirzburg. It is extant ia several MSS., but has 
 never been printed. It was published in a prose form in 1481, and has 
 also been dramatised by Hans Sachs. 
 
 J Extracts of this poem, which belongs, at the earliest, to the end of 
 the fourteenth century, are in "Bragur," vi. 1. p. 181., 2. 190., vii. 1. 
 p. 209. It is a story reminding one of the Celtic poems, with a number 
 of adventures invented or borrowed from earlier sources. One of the 
 best passages is taken from the old German Heldtosage of " Wieland 
 der Schmid." Compare W. Grimm, "Deutsche Heldensage," p. 401. 
 
 § The version of this poem by Biiheler, who lived at the court of the 
 Archbishop of Cologne, was edited by A. Keller, with a learned preface, 
 in 1841. " Diocletianus leben, von H. v. Biihel." There was in exist- 
 ence another rhymed version of the " Seven Wise Masters," and from 
 this the extracts are taken in Hagen's " Grundriss," p. 303. Compare 
 A. Keller, " Le Roman des Sept Sages," p. cix. The German prose was 
 printed la 1473. 
 
230 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 have afforded poetical materials to modern German poets. 
 Thus, for instance, it is from " Peter von Staufenberg 
 und die Meerfei,"* a poem of the 'middle of the four- 
 teenth century, that Fouque got the substance of his 
 beautiful tale " Undine." Schiller's " Gang nach dem 
 Eisenhammer" is also based on a story of those days. 
 Of smaller tales of an anecdotal character — a species 
 of composition best suited to the powers of that age — 
 there was no lack ; nay, even as late as the fifteenth 
 century we meet with some by no means despicable 
 specimens in this line. They may be classified under 
 three names, which had come down from the thirteenth 
 century. Serious narratives, chiefly didactic, of real 
 events (^Mcsre, whence Mdrchen) ; droll stories, the 
 result of pure invention (^Aventiure, Abenteuer — an ex- 
 pression applied as late as the time of Opitz to tales of 
 fancy) ; and, lastly, Allegories {Bispel, by which ex- 
 pression fable, akin to allegory, continued to be desig- 
 nated). 
 
 Of these three, the Abenteuer are in the best style.f 
 The allegorical poems reach right through the four- 
 teenth and fifteenth centuries to the beginning of the 
 
 * " Der Bitter v. Staufenburg, ein alt-deutscBes Gedicht," Engelhard, 
 1823. The old poem, which cannot he of much remoter date than that 
 assigned to it in the text, was edited by Fischart, in an old version, 1588. 
 From this old version comes the modernised extract in the " Wnnder- 
 hom," i. 407. 
 
 t Collections of these tales were made as early as the thirteenth 
 century, like the collection of fahles and stories by the Strieker and 
 others (mentioned at page 190), under the title of " Die Welt." From 
 a collection of the fourteenth century, extracts are printed in the 
 " Koloczaer Codex altd. Gedichte," ed. Mailath and KofBnger, Pesth, 
 1817. Another collection is contained in the three first volumes of 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 231 
 
 sixteenth. At times they are ■written in strophes. 
 One Hadamar von Laber * wrote an allegorical " Jagd- 
 gedicht von der Minne." The " Morin," by Hermann 
 von Sachsenheimt, describes the journey to the Venus- 
 berg, and the fidelity of the faithful Eckart. Besides 
 these, we have the well-known " Theuerdank," of 
 which the Emperor Maximilian composed the ma- 
 terial, and partly also the form. Maximilian (or his 
 chaplain, Melchior Pfinzing, who edited it,) here 
 gives an account of his own youthful adventures in 
 very bad rhymes, under the figure of a journey to 
 woo Ehrenreich (Mary of Burgundy), daughter of 
 King Rumreich (Charles the Bold). On the road, 
 Theuerdank (Maximilian) meets with three enemies in 
 three defiles. Their names are severally Eiirwittig, 
 Unfalo, and Neidelhart, and they each try to stop 
 and kill him. Eiirwittig no doubt represents the 
 recklessness of his youth ; Unfalo its mishaps ; Nei- 
 delhart its political enemies. The whole abounds 
 with a set of improbable stories and sporting anec- 
 dotes. At last Theuerdank is victorious, and by a 
 sort of poetical justice, Eiirwittig is beheaded, Unfalo 
 hanged, and Neidelhart hurled from a wall. The best 
 part of the work are the wood-cuts. Of the rest the 
 
 Lassterg's "Liedersaal" (1820-1822). A collection of 90 pieces, most 
 of them printed before, is in Hagen's " Gesammtabenteur," 1850, 3 
 vols. 
 
 * This poem is in the Titurel-strophe, and was written in the fif- 
 teenth century, perhaps after some older model. There are many MSS. 
 ofit 
 
 f This poem was composed in 1453, and published in 1513, and often 
 subsequently. Sachsenheim also wrote, in 1455, the " Goldener Tempel." 
 
232 GERMAN LITBBATUBE. 
 
 less said the better. And yet it was the work of a 
 celebrated emperor, and got up on parchment in the 
 most costly style. Forty copies only were printed. It 
 abounded in mysterious allusions, to unravel which 
 many attempts were made. Three editions appeared 
 between 1517 and 1537. Waldis then remodelled it, 
 and the work appeared in four several editions. In the 
 seventeenth century a fresh version appeared, and the 
 book sold at auctions for hundreds of ducats.* At 
 present " Theuerdank" reposes in the dust of the libra- 
 ries, as its writer does in that of the tomb. 
 
 Of historical poems, an Austrian chronicle, com- 
 monly called " Von Horneck," is the work of a certain 
 Ottokar.f Another, describing the Council of Kost- 
 nitz, is scarcely readable. 
 
 "We shall now proceed to lyrical poetry ; a more 
 pleasing theme. In the period now under considera- 
 tion, the Minne-poetry of the twelfth and thirteenth 
 century still continued to be cultivated ; nay, as late 
 as the fifteenth century, we find noble persons writing 
 it, and not without success. Such were Heinrich 
 
 * The text of "Theuerdank" was published by K. Haltans, 1836, 
 after the edition of 1517. 
 
 t Ottokar of Styria's " Oestreiohische Chronik " was composed between 
 1300 and 1317, and printed in Pez, "Scriptores rer. Austr.," torn. iii. 
 Compare Schacht "Aus. undiiber Ottokar's Chronik," 1821, "Jacobi 
 de Ottoc. Chron. Austriaco," 1839. The " LiTlandische Eeimchronik" 
 belongs to the end of the thirteenth or beginning of the fourteenth cen- 
 tury; published by Bergmann, 1817, and Pfeiffer, 1844. The "Deutsch- 
 ordens Chronik von Nikolaus von Jeroschin," dating from the fourteenth 
 century, is merely a translation of the Latin Chronicle of Peter of Dus- 
 burg, but philologically important. Extracts of it were edited in 1854 
 by Pfeiffer, with a capital glossary. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD, 233 
 
 von Miigeln* of Meissen, Count Oswald von Wolken- 
 .Bteinf, Count Hugo von Montfort-I The latter being, 
 like the olden knights, ignorant of reading and writing, 
 composed his poems on horseback or in the chase, and 
 dictated them to his Jager, Burk Mangolt. But, as 
 we have before observed, chivalry had now for the 
 most part divorced itself from poetry ; which fell into 
 the hands of the Meister, i, e, the burghers of the 
 wealthy rising towns. Thus Minnegesang became 
 Meistergesang, which was framed on the strictest rules, 
 and in the hands of such men as Muscatbliit§ aiid 
 Michael Beheim|| degenerated into frivolity and artifice. 
 These, however, must not be reckoned among the 
 later Meistersingers, properly so called. 
 
 It is not exactly known when this institution of the 
 Meistersingers, and their poetical guilds, arose in the 
 
 * He lived ia the middle of tlie fourteenth century. Compare Hagen 
 andBiisching, "Aitd. Museum," ii. 180 and 196. In the tradition of 
 the Meistersingers, he ■was said to be "a doctor of theology of Prague," 
 and one of the founders of their art. He is the author of one of the 
 oldest German prose translations, viz. that of " Valerius Maximus." 
 
 t He was bom in the Tyrol, 1363-1367, died 1445. Compare Hoff- 
 mann, "Fundgr.," i. 238. His poems -were edited in 1847 by Beda 
 Weber. 
 
 t Bom 1357, died 1423. Compare Aufsesz, " Anzeiger," 1832, sp, 
 178 ; 1833, sp. 292. Mone, " Anzeiger," 1834, sp. 200. Wackemagel, 
 " Altd. Lesebuch,'' p. 949. 
 
 § Muscatbliit — of course, a fictitious name — lived at the beginning 
 of the fifteenth century, and still wrote in 1437. Compare Aufsesz, 
 "Anzeig.," 1832, sp. 258; 1833, sp. 230 and 268. "Altd. Museum," 
 i. 123; il 189. An edition of his poems by Von Groote appeared in 
 1853. 
 
 II He -was bom in the vicinity of Weinsberg, 1416, and -was still 
 living in 1474. Hagen (" Samlung fiir altd. Lit."), p. 75, prints a number 
 of his poems, and Karajau his " Buch von den Wienern." 
 
234 GEEMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 cities. Frauenlob is said to have been the founder of 
 the oldest, viz. that of Mainz ; but this is no doubt a 
 fiction. At all events, there must be sofne confusion 
 between a church and burgher singing school. This 
 much is certain, that these guilds existed in the middle 
 of the fifteenth century ; and towards the close of it 
 were looked upon as institutions of great antiquity. 
 Their head-quarters were in South Germany; espe- 
 cially in Mainz, and then in Augsburg, Nuremburg^ 
 Memmingen, Colmar, Ulm, and other small cities. In 
 some of these cities, the guild comprehended only per- 
 sons of the same trade, e. g. the shoemakers in Colmar, 
 and the weavers in Ulm. But in most places th6 
 musical citizens of various trades formed themselvea 
 into one society for the purpose. A regular guild they 
 did not profess to be. Upright, virtuous, and good, 
 these masters looked upon their art as devoted to holy 
 purposes. Indeed, after the Keformation, their effu- 
 sions were always on Bible texts ; and if these pieces 
 do not represent the poetry of the age, they at all 
 events represent the best points of its social life ; the 
 probity, sobriety, contented domesticity, and the united 
 spirit of the German burghers. When the weaver- 
 master had left his loom, the shoemaker put by thes 
 implements of his art, and the tailor had hung his 
 shears on the wall, he would then, in the silence of his 
 chamber, set about composing songs original or imi- 
 tated ; and, when Sunday approached, he hung out the 
 " Schultafel," tricked out with various devices, to an- 
 nounce that on the Sabbath afternoon, after service, 
 there would be a singing exercise (Schule gesungen) 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 235 
 
 at the Rathaus, or (as was later the case) in the Chiarch. 
 On that day, the masters of the association, singers and 
 poets, together with the scholars and lovers of music, 
 and a large number of burghers and their families, asT 
 sembled at the appointed rendezvous. The masters 
 to hear the new poems recited, the scholars for practice 
 in the art, while a reverential silence pervaded the vast 
 assembly. Above, sat the presidents of the associa- 
 tion (Gemerk) ; to wit, the Biichsenmeister (treasurer), 
 the Schllisselmeister (manager), the Merkmeister, and 
 the Kronmeister. Next to Merkmeister stood the 
 Merker, i. e. critics, judges, who " marked " all the 
 faults, and at the conclusion gave their award on the 
 merits of the singers. The victor was then crowned 
 by the Kronmeister with a chaplet. This was often 
 very costly, and was the permanent property of the 
 association. Besides this, a jewel (Kleinod) was hung 
 by a chain from his neck. In many populous and rich 
 cities the association possessed a great number of valu^ 
 ables (together also called Kleinod) ; so that at every 
 meeting, masters already distinguished might appear 
 with their decorations, to the great delight and pride, 
 doubtless of all the friends and relatives present. 
 Hereupon, the best poems were inscribed in a great 
 book, which was carefully preserved by the Schliissel-. 
 meister. Such was the Sunday and HoUday amuse- 
 ments of the artizans of that period, the forefathers 
 of the modern workmen ; amusements of which their 
 descendants have no reason to be ashamed. Let it be 
 remembered also, that those were days when the higher 
 class of burghers wasted their powers and substance in 
 
236 GERMAN LITEBATTTEE. 
 
 luxury and riotous living ; the peasant was in a state 
 of physical and mental degradation ; the learned, like 
 the masses, were inmioderate drinkers ; while the nobles 
 lavished their hereditary portion in feuds and bloodshed. 
 
 For centuries the Meister singing continued. In 
 the sixteenth century it was at its zenith. After 
 leaving its birthplace, Mainz, it found a second home 
 at Nuremberg, where the last meeting took place about 
 the year 1770.* In Ulm it survived even the shock 
 of the French Revolutionary wars. Twelve old Sing- 
 meisters still existed there as late as 1830. Driven 
 from their " Schaustube " in the Rathaus, they held 
 their meetings in the private dwellings of artizans, 
 where they sung their songs memoriter. And it seems 
 surprising how tradition could preserve for so many 
 years pieces of such artistic intricacy alike in the text 
 and music. 
 
 In the year 1839, four only of these aged people 
 survived; the Biichsenmeister, the Schliisselmeister, 
 the Merkmeister, and the Kronmeister. On the 21st 
 of October 1 839, they celebrated the obsequies of the 
 art, bequeathing their Schultafel and other properties 
 to the Liederkranz at Ulm, accompanied by the wish 
 " that the Liederkranz may emulate its predecessor in 
 length of existence."! 
 
 After all, this Meistergesang was more an art of 
 rhyme than poetry, properly so called. The ideas were 
 of secondary consideration ; words and syllables every- 
 thing. In later times, when the Meistersingers re- 
 
 * See Hasleiu, in " Bragur," iii. p. 69. 
 
 t " Augsburg Allgem. Zeitung," 1839, No. 311, Supplement, p. 2432. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 237 
 
 sided for the most part in the cities of the reformed 
 faith, care was taken that nothing should occur in 
 their compositions of a contrary doctrinal tendency. 
 The metrical system (Strophenbau) was tripartite, like 
 that of the old Minnesingers. Sometimes there were as 
 many as one hundred rhymes in a strophe. AU sorts 
 of odd names were applied to it. There was the blue 
 and the red (Ton) mode, and the yellow violet mode ; 
 the red nut-blossom mode ; the striped saffron-flower 
 mode ; the warm winter mode ; the yellow lion-skin 
 mode ; the short ape mode, and the fat badger mode. 
 At the end of the seventeenth century there were no 
 less than two hundred and twenty-two different kinds 
 of tunes or sing-strophes in full vogue. Twelve men 
 were held in honour as the founders of art. Of these 
 some were genuine Minnesiogers, e. g. Walther von 
 der Vogelweide, Wolfram (transmuted by them into 
 "Wolfgang Eohn), Reinmar von Zweter, Marner, Re- 
 genbogen, and, above all, Frauenlob. Tabulatur was 
 the name given by the Mastersingers to the strict rules 
 which regulated their art ; a word still used in Ger- 
 many, 
 
 Such then was the poetry of the Meistersingers, 
 "With the times it had no points of contact, exclusively 
 adhering to what was old and traditional. It is not 
 from any intrinsic merit of its own, but merely from 
 its being a continuation of the Minnegesang, that it is 
 important in a literary point of view. In the history 
 of manners and civilization it is of much more moment. 
 
 In this same period there flourished another sort of 
 lyric poetry of vastly greater importance, the Secular 
 
238 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 popular lay (Weltliche Volkslied). It was the very- 
 antipodes of Melstergesang. In it the people's joys 
 and sorrows find an artless utterance. Often rude and 
 vehement, it is, nevertheless, always animated and not 
 seldom highly poetical. The old popular poetry bursts 
 forth in lyrical, if not in epic, shape ; and that with 
 wondrous power. With such power, indeed, that it 
 served to inspire a Herder and a Goethe after a lapse 
 of more than two centuries. The Melstergesang kept 
 one even tenor throughout. It had no development. 
 Not so the national song, which began in the fourteenth, 
 grew in the fifteenth, and was at its best in the six- 
 teenth century, which is really beyond the limits of the 
 period of which we are treating. But It will be best to 
 take the whole history of this sort of poetry at once, 
 with the exception of one branch hereafter to be 
 mentioned. 
 
 There is no doubt that national songs, in the sense 
 in which we here regard it, existed as early as the 
 twelfth century ; songs or poems where the author 
 gave utterance to his feelings and experiences with 
 truth and intensity. At the same time he never got 
 beyond generals. He never, as in the art-poetry of the 
 Minne-lied, entered into circumstantial and connected 
 details of Individual experience. Such efiusions may 
 possibly have been current in circles to which the artistic 
 Minne never descended, but they were never committed 
 to writing at the time, and were overwhelmed by the 
 court poetry. In the fourteenth century, however, 
 when the court poetry died out, and the Minnegesang 
 gradually subsided into silence, these sounds of nature 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 239 
 
 were once more heard, and (with the paltry excep- 
 tion of the Meistergesang) ruled supreme during the 
 fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, over the whole field of 
 lyric poetry. From the " Limhurg Chronicle " we learn 
 that in the fourteenth century, songs of this kind were 
 sung and whistled by knights and serving-men in town 
 and country all over the land. 
 
 The "Volkslied" (national lay) of this period is 
 entirely on the same basis as the old " Volkslied," 
 from which the old Epic originated. The incidents and 
 experiences of real life are its theme, as they were of 
 the old epic national lay. But with this important dif- 
 ference, that it is the experiences, not of a nation, but 
 of an individual, which are now sung. There it is acts, 
 here feelings, which are pourtrayed. But then they are 
 feelings so simple, so true, so universal, that everybody, 
 and not the poet alone, has experienced them. So that 
 in both kinds, this national lay and the old national lay, 
 the actions and feelings are not imaginary, but already, 
 so to say, in existence. In such compositions, of course, 
 any strict connexion or consecutive order cannot be 
 expected any more than in the feelings and thoughts 
 which course through the mind. Hence the parts are 
 thrown together rhapsodically according to the impulse 
 of the moment. As for filling up the details, analysing 
 the thoughts and feelings, and giving a colouring to the 
 whole, after the manner of art-poetry, with these the 
 Volkslied does not concern Itself in the least. Hence 
 the apparent gaps and leaps with which it abounds no 
 less than the ancient Epic. It was this " Kecke Wurf," 
 this rapid transition, that Goethe so much admired. 
 
240 ' GEBMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 The music is like the text, simple, yet moving in the 
 extreme; artless melody, in short, regardless of the 
 rules of harmony, but admirably suited to the words. 
 Indeed, the greatest musical composers have seldom 
 achieved such perfection in this respect. Volkslieder 
 (national lays) that are not sung are not worthy of 
 the name. 
 
 And who was the author of these songs ? It is with 
 them as with the old Epic. The name of no distinct 
 person stands on record as their author ; in fact they 
 are the offspring, not of individual invention, but of a 
 whole nation's heart. They describe circumstances and 
 feelings which are the common property of all that 
 have sprung from the same national stock, in which all 
 have a sympathy more or less. The actual writer, if 
 there ever was one, is lost in the crowd of according 
 spirits, of which he is the mouth-piece. The very- 
 same subjects we find handled at opposite ends of 
 Germany, differing only in local colouring and dialect. 
 
 Now, in some parts of Germany even at the present 
 day, where modern song-books have not quenched the 
 fire of the people's invention, something of the same 
 sort of operation is at work which doubtless brought 
 into being the old Volkslieder. Societies meet to- 
 gether, one sings a strophe, a second adds another 
 strophe on the spur of a moment, and a third catches 
 the inspiration. This is the case with the Heimgarten 
 (evening societies of the people) in the Tyrol. So in 
 Upper Hessia the people still sing on, i. e. compose, in 
 spite of the song-books, without Gleim, and Gross- 
 heim, and Abela. In the weaving-room, when the 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 24] 
 
 songstress has exhausted her budget of songs, another 
 improvises a verse, and another catches up the tuneful 
 strain. Many of the songs so improvised bear such a 
 striking similarity to the old Volkslieder that, as afore- 
 said, we must ascribe to both a similar origin. In 
 ancient times the materials of these Volkslieder were 
 very frequently historical. At the close of the poem 
 it is often stated that the transactions are described by 
 " one who was an eye-witness ;" and the truth-like 
 simplicity of the description made the piece current in 
 a much more extended circle than that to which it 
 originally belonged. Thus the robber-knight Eppelin 
 von Gaila, and the landlouper Schiittensamen, were 
 first sung in and about Nuremberg. So also, in the 
 fourteenth century, Lindenschmidt, likewise a robber, 
 was sung in the Breisgau country ; but afterwards 
 they were all well known throughout Germany. So 
 the song on the capture of Kuffstein, and execution of 
 its defender, Hans Benzenauer, by MaximlUan I., which 
 was composed in 1505, and was sung all over the country 
 for a full century, gave the melody to several other 
 songs of a like nature. 
 
 In like manner the Landsknechts sang songs on the 
 battle of Pavia in the very moment of victory — songs 
 which lived in the mouths of the people for a good 
 hundred years. 
 
 To the same class belong the old Swiss songs on the 
 battles of Sempach and Murten; and those of Mo- 
 ringer, Heinrich der Lowe, the Knight Trimunitas, 
 and others. 
 
 M 
 
242 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 But the mass of the Volkslieder consists of love- 
 pieces, e. g., on parting, on constancy and inconstancy, 
 on separation, on meeting again after an absence of 
 seven years, on never meeting more. There are mes- 
 sages sent to the loved one hy dear Miss Nightingale ; 
 laments for the death of the bride, which will never 
 cease till all the waters run out, and that will never be. 
 Nothing can be more touching than these simple songs, 
 with their heartfelt melody. " Insbruck, ich muss dich 
 lassen " (Insbruck, I must leave thee, must go to a 
 foreign land) ; or, " Warum bist du denn so traurig ?" 
 (Why so sad, then, dearest ? Think'st that I'll forget 
 thee ? Thou dost please me all too well. Leaves and 
 grass may fade and languish, but not true love ; though 
 lost to sight, to memory thou art dear) ; or, " So viel 
 Stern am Himmel stehen, an dem blauen giildnen 
 Zelt " (So many stars in Heaven stand, in the tent of 
 blue and gold) ; or, " Es steht ein Baum in Odenwald, 
 der hat viel griine Aest" (There stands a tree in 
 Odenwald, with many branches green) ; or the song of 
 inconstancy, " Es stehen drei Sternlein am Himmel " 
 (Three little stars in Heaven stand); or that of 
 constancy, "Es stund eine Linde im tiefen Thai" 
 (There stood a linden in the deep vale) ; and very 
 many others might be cited, a single one of which is 
 worth a whole volume describing mock feelings and 
 sensations at second hand. Then the power of such 
 songs, the force with which they go direct to the heart, 
 — with this Germany became experimentally acquainted 
 not long ago. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 243 
 
 The melody of the " Mantel-lied," for instance, which 
 In reality belonged to a song of the sixteenth century, 
 beginning, "Es waren einmal drei Grafen gefangen," 
 — what an electrical effect it had all the country over, 
 as soon as the sound of it was re-awakened. Other 
 Volkslieder are of a festive nature, full of genuine, 
 hearty hilarity — of wit and humour, teeming with fun 
 and frolic, e. g., " Der liebste Buhle den ich han, der 
 liegt beim Wirt im Keller ; der hat ein holzin Kbckleia 
 an, und heisst der Muskateller " (The dearest lover that 
 I have, he lies in mine host's cellar ; a wooden jacket 
 he has on, his name is Muscadeller) ; or, " Wie soil ich 
 mich hinkehren, ich dummes Briiderlein? Wie soil 
 ich mich ernahren? mein Gut ist aUzu klein" (0, 
 whither shall I go, a lad so dull as I ? How ever get 
 my living, with a little estate like mine ?) All these 
 are quite as simple and true to nature as the others. 
 
 Many of these pieces, as may well be imagined, are 
 somewhat abrupt and unpolished, but not a single one 
 of them can be called rude. In them we see painted 
 to the life the careless independence and the uneasy 
 gadding spirit of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 
 It has also been remarked that this national poetry was 
 almost entirely the poetry of man, whereas the Minne- 
 gesang was the poetry of woman. While we admire 
 the gentleness, the modesty, the feminine sensibility of 
 the latter, the manly strength, the vehemence and 
 rapidity of the former must not be underrated. It was 
 this sort of poetry, then, that filled every mouth and 
 every heart, from the hoary veteran to the lisping 
 infant, during the second half of the fourteenth, the 
 
 H 2 
 
244 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 fifteenth, and, above all, the sixteenth century. Num- 
 berless were the pieces composed in it. Like the Minne- 
 poetrjj 300 years before, it resounded, but in louder 
 tones, through every village and town of the land. At 
 the beginning of the sixteenth century, when it was 
 almost entirely oral, it had reached its zenith. It was 
 not till the middle of that century that collections 
 began to be made; and twenty-five years later, pe- 
 dantry, and a taste for everything foreign, began to tell 
 upon it prejudicially. So that productions in national 
 poetry dating from the beginning of the seventeenth 
 century remind us of the modern attempts in the same 
 line, in which J. H. Voss and even Schiller failed. It 
 was a case of poems for the people, instead of poems 
 out of the people. In the palmy days of erudite poetry, 
 i. e., during the seventeenth century and at the begin- 
 ning of the eighteenth, the Yolkslied was utterly 
 forgotten and despised. It was reserved for Herder, 
 in his book on German Art, and in his " Volkerstim- 
 men," to point out these forgotten gems. Goethe fol- 
 lowed, addressing himself to this sort of material with 
 all the power of his poetical genius. His lyrical pieces 
 are evidence of this ; indeed, it is in the treatment of 
 topics of popular caste that he shines most conspicuous. 
 
 It is from these Volkslieder, that Burger derives the 
 best features of his compositions ; while his worst are 
 due to forced and unnatural imitations of them. 
 " Leonora" is of tlie former class ; of the latter, the 
 " Daughter of the Pastor of Taubenhain." But it was 
 a long time before the Volkslied asserted for itself 
 that influence generally, which it must have if a peo- 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 245 
 
 pie's poetical feeling is sound. The illuminati of the 
 latter part of the last century were no friends of 
 poetry, least of all of Folk-poetry. Herder and Goethe 
 came in for a good share of their ridicule and indigna- 
 tion; while Campe pronounced the inventor of the 
 spinning-wheel to be an immeasurably greater man 
 than the poet of the " Iliad" and the " Odyssey." 
 
 The bookseller Nicolai also had his fling at the 
 VoUislied in a couple of Almanacs, but to little 
 purpose. It was not, however, tiU thirty years after 
 Herder that Clemens Brentano, in conjunction with 
 Achim von Arnim, edited the " Wunderhorn," a most 
 choice collection of pieces of the fifteenth and six- 
 teenth centuries, which placed German Folk-poetry in 
 that commanding position which it has never ceased to 
 occupy since in the eyes of all good judges. The worst 
 part about this book is the corruptness of the text, bits 
 of the genuine old Volkslied being often mixed up 
 with more modern lucubrations. 
 
 L. Uhland is also the editor of another capital col- 
 lection of the same kind.* Of less note are the collec- 
 
 * "Alte Hoch- und Nieder-deutsohe Volkslieder," &o., Lud-wig 
 Uhland, vol. 1, in 5 books, 1844-1845. Here are 365 lays, many of 
 which, however, do not belong to the period mentioned in the text, e.g. 
 the very ancient fragment of a Jagdlied (hunting song) (see note, p. 25), 
 and the " Traugemundslied ;'' as also a number of hymns, and, among 
 others, Luther's " Bin fester Burg." This excellent collection, however, 
 includes a third part about of the lays most sung in the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries; although it omits some of the most famous Lands- 
 knecht songs. Even Uhland has omitted " Gott griiss dich Bruder 
 Veite," " Es geht ein frischer Sommer daher," aud others. 
 
 Of the numerous collections of songs of the sixteenth century, only 
 one has been reprinted, viz. " Liederbuchlein, darrnnen 260 allerhand 
 schoner weltlicher Lieder," 1582 (also 1578 and 1584), under the odd 
 
 M 3 
 
246 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 tions of "Wolf, Soltau, and Korner. There is only one 
 living German poet — Heinrich Hoffman von Fallers- 
 leben — who has succeeded in reproducing the old 
 Volkslied ; and this he has done to admiration. 
 
 Our history must now return to the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries, when we find the first germs of the 
 Volkslied. 
 
 Between the decay of Minne-poetry and the appear- 
 ance of the Volksliedj there are several intermediate 
 productions which represent the transition from the 
 quiet descriptive poetry of the older period, with its 
 refinements of expression and thought, to the more 
 .lively and bouncing tones of Folk poetry. 
 
 Some of the later Minne-singers, such as Counts 
 Wolkenstein, and von Montford, now and then give 
 forth tones, which remind us of the coming poetry. 
 The same may be said of the not unfrequent inter- 
 locutory pieces between two lovers, which have much 
 of the familiar, hearty, and lively spirit of the Volks- 
 lied ; e.g. the piece called " Empfahen," where a girl 
 begias, " Willkomm, mein liebstes ein " (Welcome, my 
 dearest). He replies, " Genad traut Fraulein rein " 
 (I greet thee, maiden, tender and true). " Where 
 hast thou been, wanderer, so long away from me ? 
 How has it fared with thee the while?" " Nought 
 pleased me, though I saw full much to please." 
 " Hast ever thought on me ?" " Lady, on thee my 
 
 title of "Das Amtraser Liederbuch vom 1582," edited by Bergmann, 
 Stuttgart, 1845. A unique copy of the edition of 1582 is preserved 
 at Vienna ; it was printed at Frankfort. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 247 
 
 thought hath ever been." " Art sure, wast constant 
 ever?" " I swear it." " Sure ! that glads my heart." 
 " Lady, 'tis true." Many of these amoebaean pieces 
 were set to the music of the trumpet or horn,* and the 
 effect was remarkably good. Another class of poems 
 now commences, which subsequently plays no unim- 
 portant part, and which, though in the form of the 
 Minnelied, are in substance Volkslieder — we mean the 
 drinking songs. The Minne poetry, and indeed the 
 whole poetry of the thirteenth century, had nothing of 
 the kind, with the exception of a humorous piece, called 
 " Weinschwelg." One of these drinking songs runs 
 thus : " Wine, wine, from the Rhine, very clear and 
 fine. Thy colour gleams with light, like crystal or ruby 
 bright. Thou givest medicine for sorrow. Then pour 
 out wine and drink, dear Katie, mine. Eed cheeks 
 .makest thou. Olden foes thou reconcil'st ; the Augus- 
 tines and Beguines. Both forget their pain and sorrow ; 
 and their — German, their — Latin too." 
 
 Akin to these are the numerous apostrophes to wine, 
 e.g. that by the humorous writer, Hans Eosenbliit, be- 
 ginning ',' Nun gesegn dich Gott, du lieber Eidgesell " 
 (Now bless thee God, thou comrade dear, thy name is 
 Tickle-gum, &c.). f 
 
 During the whole of this period, but principally at 
 the end of the fourteenth and beginning of the fifteenth 
 
 * The lay here cited stands, -with others, in Hofflnann's "I'undgr.," 
 i. 383. Compare Wackernagel, " Lesehuch," i. sp. 969-972. 
 
 t "Der ■Weinschwelg" is in the Brothers Grimm's "Altdentsche 
 Walder," iii. 13. Compare Wackemagel, " Lesebueh," i. sp. 575. Ten 
 Weingriisse, of Eosenbliits, with the ten corresponding Weinsegen, are 
 in Haupt and Hoffmann's " Altd. Blatter,'' p. 401. ' 
 
 M 4 
 
248 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 century, religious poetry was written with much suc- 
 cess. The old Minne-poetry had also its religious side ; 
 chiefly in the Lobesange and Leiche . of Gottfried von 
 Strassburg and others. But whereas in them the writer 
 did not get beyond mere abstract reflections and descrip- 
 tions of heavenly things, religious poetry now became 
 something much more real, depicting what the writer 
 had himself experienced and felt. Such, for example, 
 is the beautiful lay, " Himmelreich ich freu mich 
 dein," &c. (Realms of Heaven, what joy is yours; 
 would that I might there behold Jesus and his Mother 
 dear, our beauteous Lady ; and the Angels with the 
 crowns singing so prettily. How happy must they be ; 
 God is so loveable.") * The same features are observ- 
 able in many of the religious poems of Heinrich von 
 Lauflenberg and the monk of Salzburg, who lived 
 at the end of the fourteenth and the beginning of the 
 fifteenth centiuy.f 
 
 From the tenth to the fifteenth century, macaronic 
 verse is often met with. Such is the Christmas hymn, 
 which has, however, a thoroughly national tone about 
 it, beginning, " In dulci jubilo, nun singet und seid 
 
 * The lay, " Hommelrtche ich frowe mich din," is printed in "Wacker- 
 agel, i. 893. 
 
 t The Benedictine Johannes (or Hermann) of Salzhurg lived in the 
 second half of the fourteenth century. Haapt and HofEmann, "Alt. BL," 
 ii. 325. Heinrich von Lauffenhurg, priest at Freiburg, in the Breisgau, 
 and, subsequently to 1445, belonging to the Johanniter Monastery at 
 Strasburg, Uved in the first half of the fifteenth century. Aufsesz " Anz." 
 1832, sp. 41. See poems by both writers in P. Wackemagel, " Das 
 deutsche Kirchcnlied," 1841. The most important treatise on the 
 spiritual poems before the Eeformation is HofiFmann's " Geschiohte de 
 deutschen Kirchenliedes bis auf Luther's Zeit," 1832 and 1854. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 24'J 
 
 froh; unsers Herzens Wonne liegt in prsesepio, und 
 leuchtet wie die Sonne matris in gremio. Alpha es 
 et O. Alpha es et 0." 
 
 " In dulci juMo, let the glad song flow ; 
 Our heart's delight lies in prsesepio, 
 Like the sun so bright, matris in gremio. 
 Alpha art and 0. Alpha art and 0." 
 
 This song, dating from the middle of the fifteenth 
 century, so expressive of a whole people's joy, was 
 preserved unaltered in the Evangelical church of Ger- 
 many for centuries, and only ceased to be sung at 
 Christmas a few years ago. 
 
 In the period now under consideration, as well as in 
 that antecedent to it. Didactic poetry was nearly allied 
 to lyric poety. On it we see clearly stamped the cha- 
 racter of the whole period : the transition from the 
 artificial to the popular and simple, and the final pre- 
 ponderance of the latter. In the fourteenth century 
 there were still two poets, who with all their stiffness 
 in form and material, most strongly remind us of the 
 thirteenth century and the good days of poetry. We 
 mean Heinrich der Teichner, an Austrian, a tender 
 and imaginative gnomic poet (spruchdichter),* and 
 Peter Sachenwirt, also an Austrian.f 
 
 Another sort of poem is what may be called the 
 riddle-poem, e. g. the " Traugemundslied," {i. e. Inter- 
 
 * See " "Wiener Jahrb." 1818, i. Supplement, p/26. Poems of his are 
 printed in Docen's "Miscell." ii. 228, and in Lassherg's "Liedersaal." 
 A collection was made by Karajan, 1855. 
 
 t Primisser's "Peter Suchenwiits Werke," 1827. Compare Kober- 
 stein's"ireber die Sprache des Sucheuwirt," 1828; "QusestionesSuchen- 
 wirtianae," 1842. 
 
 K 5 
 
250 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 preter song), the questions in which resemble those in 
 the text of the " Dessau March," though they are more 
 poetical. " Now, tell me, Master Traugemunt, two- 
 and-seventy lands thou know'st, what makes the Rhine 
 so deep ? What makes the women so charming ? 
 "What makes the meadows so green? What makes 
 the knights so bold ? If thou canst tell me this, I'll 
 think you a fine feUow." " Thou'st come to the right 
 man. From many a source the Rhine is deep; 'tis 
 love that makes the women charm. From many a root 
 the meadows are green. From many a wound the 
 knights are bold."* Another sort of poem, in which 
 the popular wisdom delighted to appear from the four- 
 teenth till the end of the sixteenth century, and which 
 even now is not quite obsolete, was the Priamel, (from 
 praeambulum, prelude,) which, after a set of antecedent 
 sentences, often winds up with a pithy little remark, 
 e.g.— 
 
 " He who will wash a rayen white. 
 
 And does the same with all his might, 
 
 Or by the sun-light dry the snow, 
 
 And box up all the winds that blow; 
 
 Who'll cry, 'Bad luck, who'll buy, who'll buy?' 
 
 To shave bald pates industrious try. 
 
 To make fools wise will undertake, — 
 
 Why, he's an ass, and no mistake." 
 
 Or— 
 
 " Bohemian monk and Suabian nun ; 
 Indulgence from Carthusian won ; 
 A Polish bridge, and Wendish truth; 
 Tor stolen hens a gypsy's ruth ; 
 
 * This poem, which rests in part on very ancient tradition, and be- 
 longs to the minstrel poetry, was first published in the third volume of 
 "Miiller's Collection;" then by Grimm in the "Altd. Walder," ii. 8-30; 
 also in " Wackemagel," i. sp. 831; and Uhland's work mentioned above. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 251 
 
 Italian reverence, Spaniard's oatli ; 
 A German fast, a Cologne maid ; 
 A daughter handsome, tut a jade ; 
 Red beard, or how of alder made j — 
 For these thirteen, or twice as many, 
 No one would give a half-penny." 
 
 In many of these Priamels there is often much wit 
 and truth mixed up with great vulgarity.* 
 
 At the end of the period tow being discussed, 
 satire begins to makes its appearance ; but we shall 
 defer our description of it, as well as the " Schwanke/' 
 " Possen/' and " Volksbiicher/' till the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, which was pre-eminently the period of German 
 comedy and satire. 
 
 In this age we also find the beginnings of German 
 dramatic poetry. "With the Germans, as with the 
 Greeks, the drama rose out of religious worship. On 
 the anniversary of the Passion, the Gospel history of 
 our Saviour's sufferings and death was declaimed by 
 eeveral persons, each of whom represented those who 
 were present at the scene, as the' Apostles, Herod, 
 Pilate, the High Priest, &c., whilst the Priest spoke 
 the words of our Saviour. This used to be done from 
 the twelfth to the seventeenth century in Roman Ca- 
 tholic and Evangelical Churches. The speakers soon 
 
 * The form of the Priamel goes hack to the twelfth century, and is 
 also met with in the Scandinavian Havamal. Some of the sayings 
 in Preidank's " Bescheidenheit " have the same shape; W. Grimm, 
 "Freidank," p. cxxii. later Priamels of the fifteenth century are 
 printed in Esohenburg's "Denkmaler," -1799, p. 385. Some of the 
 sixteenth century are in Kirchhof 's " Wendunmut," 1565, and elsewhere. 
 A collection of fifteenth century Priamels is printed hy Keller in " Alte 
 gute Schwanke," 1847. 
 
 M 6 
 
252 GEEMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 began to wear costume ; and, at the same time, the 
 speaking, no doubt, became acting. The language used 
 was principally Latin ; the place, the church. The text 
 of the Gospels was not strictly adhered to. It was 
 abbreviated and versified; and interpolations made 
 in it from the ecclesiastical traditions. The clergy 
 arranged the text, indeed, they superintended the whole 
 affair. Even at an early period, hymns and bits of 
 recitative in German were interspersed. The Lament 
 of Mary under the Cross was, perhaps, the first part 
 that was thus Germanised. So, then, the drama of 
 Germany was in its commencement religious, and, of 
 course, tragic. But, in the fourteenth century, with 
 this tragic element a comic one was likewise combined. 
 This part was sustained partly by the covetous Judas, 
 partly by the merchant, who sells spices to the women 
 on their way to the tomb of the Saviour, and who ap- 
 pears in the exact character and costume of a travelling 
 quacksalver, or cheap jack of the day. The Church, 
 impatient of this profanation of ecclesiastical and holy 
 things, issued numerous decretals on the subject. 
 Several of these, dating from the thirteenth and four- 
 teenth century, drawn up by bishops and provincial 
 synods, still survive. In them all acting in churches, 
 and unseemly dresses and jokes, are strictly forbidden. 
 The representation was consequently removed from the 
 church to the open air, and assumed a more popular 
 shape. Latin made way for German verse ; and the 
 Church seems rather to have favoured these represen- 
 tations, so long as they were under the management 
 of the clergy and temporal authorities. Indeed, such 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 253 
 
 plays of the " Passion " and " Resurrection " continued 
 to be acted in some places till late in the eighteenth 
 century. And in Southern Bavaria they have been 
 revived of late, not without success* 
 
 The transactions which took place at the birth of 
 Christ were also represented; e. g., the song of the 
 angels, the finding of Christ by the shepherds, the 
 adoration of the magi ; as well as parts of the parables. 
 Thus the history of the five wise and five foolish virgins 
 was represented by certain monks at Eisenach, in the 
 year 1322. The exclusion of the five foolish virgins 
 made such an impression on Frederick Margi-ave of 
 Meissen, who was present, that he was struck with 
 apoplexy a few days after. In the latter part of the 
 fourteenth century the events in the lives of various 
 saints came also to be thus represented. These religious 
 dramas have received the name of Mysteries in France, 
 Italy, and England; but the usual name in Grermany 
 "was always Spiel. 
 
 Although there wais sufficient evidence to prove that 
 Passion and Easter Plays were very commonly played 
 In Germany, especially in the central part of It, and 
 this not In towns only, but also In villages ; yet, even 
 till a very recent period few complete texts were dis- 
 coverable, and these only of Easter Playsf and Plays 
 
 * In Ober-Ammergaii, a secluded spot in the Bavarian Tyrol, a 
 Passions-spiel is thus represented. — Editor. 
 
 t An Easter play of the fifteenth century is printed in Hoffmann's 
 "Fundgr.," ii. 298. (Extracts preTiously in Wackernagel, "Lesebuch," 
 1835, p. 781). Another, of the fourteenth century, is inMone's "Alt.- 
 deutsche Schauspiele," 1841. A third, in Mone's "Schauspiele des 
 Mittelalters," 1846, vol. ii. pp. 33-106. The last is repeated by Ettmiiller, 
 "Dat spil fan der npstandige," 1851. 
 
254 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 of Saints* Perhaps in some cases the dialogue was 
 traditional, and did not require to be written down ; at 
 least only the beginning words of the speeches. T^is 
 is the case with a play which was performed at Franlc- 
 fort, where the stage directions are written in Latin. 
 The more important portions only would be written at 
 length, as the " Lament of Mary," or those parts that 
 differed from the old-established form. It was not till 
 the year 1842 that a perfect Passion Play was dis- 
 ■covered. This was formerly played at Alsfeld.f Since 
 then two others have been found. 
 
 In these pieces we must not look for a great display 
 of art. There is a falling off alike in the language and 
 the versification. The " Lament of Mary" is the best 
 part. " Alas ! Death, this anguish thou could' st end, 
 would'st thou but send thy messengers hither to me. 
 ,0h! woe is me, Death will part us. Death, take us 
 both, that He may not mourn alone. Child of my heart, 
 the light of thine eyes has paled. Thy might and thy 
 strength is gone. "Woe is me! my beloved Son. Alas! 
 for Thy great agony. Oh woe ! how sadly dost Thou 
 
 * A play of St. Dorothea is given in Hoffmann, "Fundgr." ii. 284; 
 of the Ascension of the Virgin, in Mone, "Alt-d. Schansp. ;" also ibid, u 
 Corpus Christi play. With these we may include the history, in the 
 form of dialogue, of Theophilus, printed in Brun's "Eomant. Ged.," 
 1798, p. 288. 
 
 t Vilmar inserted specimens of this play in Haupt's " Zeitsohrift f. 
 Alterthum," 1843, ili. 477. Gervinus (ii. 370) notices a Passion play 
 in the Heidelberg Library (Cod. Pal. 402). A Passion play of the 
 fourteenth century, has since been published by Mone, " Schauspiele des 
 Mittelalters," 1846, vol. i. p. 72 ; one of the fifteenth, ibid., ii. 183 ; also 
 a play on the Infancy of Jesus, ibid., i. 143 ; of the Burial of Christ, ii. 
 131 ; of the Ascension, i. 254; and of the Last Judgment, 273, 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 255 
 
 hang. Oh woe ! how Thou dost wrestle with Death. 
 Oh woe ! how Thy limbs quiver. Alas ! what shall I, 
 poor woman, do, since I saw my Child suffer so great 
 pain. In this hour a sword doth pierce to the very bot- 
 tom of my heart ; Simeon's cruel sword. It hath found 
 me out. In this hour abundant pain is mine. Ah ! my 
 beloved ChUd, speak one word; say I am Thy mother. 
 Alas ! He cannot ; He is dead. Oh ! thou hard cross- 
 tree, what misery thou hast wrought me. Didst thou 
 but know what hangs on thee, thou would'st fold thine 
 arms together, and let my poor Son rest." 
 
 John leads the wailing mother down from the cross ; 
 but hardly has she departed when Jesus exclaims, " Eli, 
 Eli, lama sabachthani ?" and the mother cries in touch- 
 ing accents, " Oh ! woe is me, I hear a cry ; that was 
 my Child that called out in his anguish ;" and then she 
 hastens back to the cross and remains there till consum- 
 matum est. The modern features in these plays which 
 are most worthy of noting are the dispute between the 
 merchant who has sold the ointment to Mary Magdalen 
 and Maria Salome, and his wife; and the higgling 
 between Judas and Caiaphas, who has paid him the 
 thirty pieces in base coin. So also one of the best 
 parts in the Alsfeld Passion Play is a quaint scene 
 where Mary Magdalen, before her conversion, gives 
 herself up to worldly delights. She adorns herself 
 before a glass, sings jovial songs, dances immoderately, 
 and after tiring one partner out, says, " Yes, yes, sir, 
 you're tired out. Can't I dance though. As many 
 as you please. I'll serve you all alike." 
 
256 GEEMAN LITEEATTTEE. 
 
 There is one curious Mystery about Pope Joan, 
 entitled "Ein schcin Spiel von Frau Jutten." The 
 author of which is said to have been one Theodorich 
 ^chemberg, a town clergyman. This piece, however, 
 is not, as might be expected, of a comic nature, but 
 quite of a serious cast. A troop of demons with very 
 strange names, which also recur in the Alsfeld play, 
 entices Joanna to commit the fraud, for which she 
 afterwards does penance.* 
 
 Out of this mixture of the tragic and comic element 
 there sprung tragedy and comedy, properly so called. 
 The first specimens of the latter were the Fastnacht- 
 spiele, or Shrove-tide plays. These were of the nature 
 of low farce ; witty, but coarse and obscene. Several 
 specimens remain, the composition of two writers: 
 Hans Kosenbllit, of Nuremburg (mentioned above as 
 the author of drinking songs), and called Schnepperer f 
 from his ribaldry ; and Hans Folz, a barber, also of 
 Nuremberg, though born at Worms, t 
 
 * Schemberg's (or Schemteck's) play of " Frau Jutte " is said to 
 date from 1480, and was published at Eisleben, by EQeronymus Tilesius, 
 in 1565. It -was reprinted in Gottscbed's " Notiger Vorrat," &c. 1757- 
 1765, vol. il p. 81, and lately in Keller's " Fastnacbt-spiele," ii. 900. 
 
 f Kosenbliit lived in the middle of tbe fifteenth century. A number 
 of his sayings (Spriicbe) are given by Keller, ibid., 1083-1195. Six of 
 his dramas, more correctly, stories in dialogue, are given by Gottsched, 
 ibid., ii. 43 ; two in Tieck's " Deutsches Theater ;" a seventh, from a 
 Munich MS., has been published by Margraff. , 
 
 J He lived about 1480. His Eastnachtspiele, and numerous jests, 
 are only preserved in print. Many are in Keller, iii. 1195, scg. Gervinus 
 and Koberstein make him to have written as early as 1447. This is 
 more than doubtful. Of his tale, " Pfarrer im Loch," he does not say 
 that it was written in 1447, but only that the incident on which it is 
 based occurred in that year. All the known Fastnachtspiele of the 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 257 
 
 If we are to judge from what took place in this 
 respect with the Greeks, the time for the rise of the 
 German drama is now arrived. Epic has had its run, 
 and is complete and finished. Lyric poetry followed ; 
 and the period is now at hand when objective and 
 subjective poetry penetrate into dramatic representa- 
 tions. But, as compared with Greece, Germauy has 
 this disadvantage ; that the first germs of its drama 
 appeared at a time when all the old national memories 
 were becoming obsolete ; when literature and every- 
 thing was gone to the bad ; a time when much hap- 
 pened, but nothing was done. And hence it was that 
 the germs were choked and no such thing as a national 
 drama was formed. And although many times sub- 
 sequently a national drama seemed on the point of 
 coming into existence, it always came to nothing. 
 
 All that now remains is to say a few words about 
 the Prose of this period. The works on history must 
 first be mentioned. The peculiar merit of the chronicle 
 writers of the fourteenth and fifteenth century, is their 
 simple unpretending style of narrative, a style well 
 suited to the facts they relate. Upon the whole, the 
 historians of the fourteenth are superior to those of the 
 fifteenth century, in fluency and flexibility of style. 
 Most distinguished in this respect are the Strasburg 
 chroniclers, Friederich Closener, who Kved in the 
 
 fifteenth century (by Eosenbliit, Tolz, Gengenbach, Schemberg, and 
 otters), amounting to 121 in all, were published, -with good commen- 
 taries, by Keller, in three volumes, 1853. Most of them are revoltingly 
 rude, and do not contain a particle of poetry. 
 
258 GERMAlSr LITEEATUEE. 
 
 middlej* and Jacob Twinger who lived at the close of 
 the fourteenth century.f Next to these In merit are 
 the " Limburg Chronicle,"| a portion of the Hersfeld 
 History, by an anonymous writer ; Johann Eiedesel's § 
 Hessian Chronicle, and Peter Eschenloer,|l a Silesian 
 historian of the fifteenth century. The Swiss chronicles 
 of Diebold Schilling and Petermann Etterlin,! written 
 at the end of the fifteenth century, are much harder in 
 style, and still more so is the strange allegorical history 
 of the reign of Frederick III., and Maximilian I., 
 entitled " Der Weisskunig." The author of this work, 
 as of " Theuerdank," was most likely the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian himself ; the redaction of it being confided to his 
 secretary Treitz-sauerwein. The best part of it are 
 the excellent wood-cuts by Hans Burgmaier. Both 
 manuscripts and wood-cuts lay unprinted for nearly 
 three hundred years, and were not put in the press till 
 the year 1775. 
 
 * Priest and Choral Vicar at the Cathedral of Strashurg. He finished 
 his "Chronicle" ia 1362. It is the first prose chronicle of universal 
 ,6erman history, and was published by the Literary Society of Stuttgart 
 in 1842. 
 
 t Extracts of Twinger's "Chronicle" were published by Schilter in 
 1698. 
 
 J In its original shape this "Chronicle" reaches to 1398. The author 
 was the Limburg Town Clerk Tilemann (Emmel ?). It was pubhshed . 
 in 1619 by Faust v. Aschaffenburg ; then in 1720 and 1826 (1828). In 
 the two last editions the language is modernized. 
 
 § This began with the year 1232, and reached to 1327. The author 
 was probably tutor of Count John of Ziegenhain (1334-1341). It is 
 only preserved in Gerstenberger's (1522) version. 
 
 II "Geschichten der Stadt Breslan," &c. 1440-1479, ed. Kunisch 
 1827. Eschenloer died 1481. 
 
 *[ Schilling was of Bern, and wrote the " Burgundian "Wars of 1468- 
 1480;" first printed in 1743. Etterlia wrote a "Chronica der Eidgenos- 
 senschaft," printed 1507. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 259 
 
 After the Historical prose comes the Didactic-ascetic 
 prose, which however in point of pliancy and softness 
 surpasses the former. Its chief subject was the mystic 
 theology of the day; the" scholastic theology being 
 written in Latin. While the schoolmen treated chiefly 
 of knowledge and learning, the Mystics turned their 
 attention for the most part to the perfection (ausbildung) 
 of the inner man. Briefly, they wished to possess Christ 
 himself, rather than know much about Christ's doc- 
 trines ; they used the mother tongue as the best means 
 of expressing the strength and truth of their feelings, 
 and thus attained to a correctness, dexterity, and 
 perspicacity of expression, which still command our 
 admiration, while there is a poetic tinge about their 
 style strongly reminding us of the Franciscan Berthold 
 mentioned above, page 215. In some respects this 
 mystic school was a forerunner of the Keformation. 
 Of its numerous treatises, collections of aphorisms, and 
 of rules for a contemplative life, sermons, and so forth, 
 a few only will here be mentioned. In the first half 
 of the fourteenth century we meet with the chiefs of 
 the party in Germany. Such were Heinrich Seusse, 
 commonly called Suso, whose writings excel in fervour, 
 depth, and tenderness, in cheerful and genuine piety, 
 while no work of the period* surpasses them in 
 harmonious polish and flexibility of style. Next comes 
 Johann Tauler (properly Taler), the celebrated monk- 
 
 * Heinrich von Berg, called Seusse (Suso), after the name of his 
 mother, with his monastic name, Amaudus, was born, 1300, at Kostnitz. 
 In his thirteenth year he entered the Dominican order, and died at Ulm, 
 1365. His works were printed in 1482 and 1512, and published in 
 modern language by M. Diepenbrock. 
 
260 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 preacher of Cologne and then of Strasburg, whose 
 sermons in force, depth, and truth, are hardly to be 
 surpassed.* The following times of polemic theology 
 and abstruse dialectics ignored him. John Eck, the 
 head of the schoolmen of the sixteenth century, on the 
 Roman Catholic side, and Theodore Beza on the 
 Eeformed side, thought but little of Tauler. It was 
 reserved for Ph. J. Spener to be the first to acknow- 
 ledge his merits.f The works of both these remark- 
 able men, Seusse and Tauler, have lately been 
 modernized to the detriment occasionally of the style. 
 
 The following books of devotion also, though often 
 tiresome from the quantity of allegories, abound in 
 excellent passages. Hermann von Fritzlar's "Lives 
 of the Saints ;"| Otto von Passau's " Four and Twenty 
 Elders, or the Golden Throne of the Loving Soul," 
 belonging to the fourteenth century ; also " The Four 
 and Twenty Harps," an imitation of Otto of Passau's 
 work ; and " The Treasure Holder, or Shrine of true 
 Kiches," belonging to the fifteenth century. 
 
 At the conclusion of this period there was a remark- 
 able preacher, Johann Geiler, called of Keisersberg, 
 who was one of the last of the mystic school, and, like 
 Tauler, resided at Strasburg. He died, March 10, 
 1510, and is buried in Strasburg Minster. His 
 
 * Tauler was torn about 1290, and died at Strasburg, 1361. His 
 sermons were first published in 1498 ; an enlarged edition in 1521 ; and 
 by Spener in 1688 j frequently in modern times. , 
 
 t Twenty-five of Tauler's sermons have lately appeared in an English 
 dress, with a preface by Kingsley. — Editor. 
 
 J " Deutsche Mystiker des 14 Jahrhunderts," ed. T. Pfeiffer, 1845, 
 vol. i. It contains Fritzlar and Nikolaus of Strasburg, as well as David 
 of Augsburg, who belonged to the thirteenth century. See note, p. 215. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 261 
 
 celebrity was equal to that of Tauler, who preceded 
 him by one hundred and fifty years. In the first half 
 of his work, entitled " Granatapfel " (Pomegranate), 
 where he treats of man in his beginning, progress, and 
 perfection, the style is like Tauler's ; and yet he differs 
 from Tauler and the elder mystics by entering more 
 exactly into Bible history, whence arises a more de- 
 cided influence upon the outer life. Hence the style 
 here is more vigorous, and more in the popular vein than 
 that of his predecessors. This is still more the case in 
 other works, where he attacks the depravity of morals, 
 the luxury and voluptuousness of the age, and the 
 worldliness of the spiritual class. Now and then, his 
 descriptions appear strange, and even comic. Thus his 
 pulpit definition of " bishop," which was repeated so 
 many times in the sixteenth century. " In his opinion 
 it was derived from ' Beisschaf ' (bite-sheep), because, 
 in the present day, instead of feeding their sheep, the 
 bishops bit and devoured them like so many savage dogs 
 and wolves." Elsewhere he. compares the life of a 
 Christian man with that of a hare, and in a series of 
 discourses carries out the comparison in detail. A hare 
 runs better uphill than down; so a Christian man, and 
 especially a monk, ought to run better and more dili- 
 gently uphill in good works to God the Father, than 
 downhill after his lusts. The hare has long ears; so 
 a Christian, and especially a monk, ought to have long 
 ears to hear what God says. The hare is roasted, so 
 the spiritual hare must be roasted in the fire of adver- 
 sity. , The hare is lai'ded, for it is but dry and lean 
 eating by itself; so the spiritual hare, that he may not 
 
262 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 be dried up in the fire of sufferings, must be larded 
 with the fat of devotion and love. Bizarre as this may 
 appear, and indeed is, yet we forget the strangeness of 
 it not only in the preacher's genuine and fervent zeal, 
 but also in the extreme cleverness with which he car- 
 ries out the comparison. 
 
 At one time people would only admit of there having 
 been this one real preacher before Luther ; but we have 
 seen that this was not the case. At the same time 
 there is no doubt that Geiler was the sole popular 
 preacher whose sermons are extant of the days just 
 before Luther. Most popular in style are those ser- 
 mons of his which were written down by Johann Pauli, 
 the Franciscan monk. 
 
 All the other prose of this period, especially the 
 translations of foreign works, is far behind that of his- 
 tory and the pulpit. The old translation of the Bible 
 before Luther's, of which up to the year 1520 there 
 appeared fourteen editions, bears the impress of the 
 mystic school. Upon the whole it is smoother and 
 softer than that of Luther, to which for this very reason 
 it is inferior, although here and there it may have the 
 advantage. The old translation of Boccacio, and the 
 writings of Albrecht von Eybe, and Nicolaus von 
 Wyle, are stiff and clumsy from too close an adherence 
 to the original. 
 
 The sixteenth century and the first twenty-four 
 years of the seventeenth century are comprised in the 
 period now to be treated o£ In the struggle which 
 henceforward takes place between modem ideas and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 263 
 
 the worn-out elements of the past, the last embers of 
 the old poetical national consciousness become utterly- 
 extinguished. Even in the thirteenth century there 
 were indications of this in the improper preponderance 
 of art-poetry over natural-poetry. In the fourteenth 
 and fifteenth centuries, as we have seen, this art- 
 poetry was entirely beaten out of the field, and to it 
 succeeded a New kind of Popular Poetry, which, 
 though incomparably behind the Old Popular Poetry 
 in extent, depth, and fulness, was, nevertheless, 
 fresh and vigorous. In the sixteenth century the Old 
 Folk-poetry utterly disappears, and this New Folk- 
 poetry rapidly rose to perfection. But before long it 
 in its turn succumbed. 
 
 The chief causes of its downfal were, the exclusive 
 domination now assumed by learning, and the sharp dis- 
 tinction drawn between the learned and unlearned, the 
 encroachments of polemical theology upon literature 
 generally, the introduction of foreign laws, and the 
 altered position of the state ensuing thereon — against all 
 these novelties it was unable to maintain its ground. 
 Attacked, confined, despised, and oppressed on all sides, 
 it is forced to retire, and in the place of the Old Art 
 poetry and the Old and New Popular Poetry, we 
 have the Learned Poetry of the modern time, with 
 Martin Opitz at its head. In, the midst of the Babel 
 of sounds that now ensues, there is heard one pure 
 genuine German note, high and clear above the rest 
 This is the " Evangelical Church Hymn." 
 
 As aforesaid, there was a general fight going on 
 between the Old and the New in every department — 
 
264 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 in religious and ecclesiastical matters — in morals and 
 public life — in politics and jurisprudence. But in the 
 department of national literature there is not alone a 
 destruction of the old, but also a creation of what is 
 new. Two phenomena catch our attention. A novel 
 kind of Prose now arises, the expression of a new-world 
 consciousness — a prose which was to be the standard 
 and the rule of all prose compositions for centuries to 
 come. And, secondly, we behold the development of 
 Comedy and Satire. Wherever these two have come 
 out strongly, it was a sign that two worlds, an old 
 and. a new, were in' the throes of separation. With 
 Aristophanes the old Greek world came to an end. 
 The world of Hellenic deeds closed, and the world of 
 Hellenic thought began. And so it is that in German 
 literature Johann Fischart stands as the landmark 
 between the old and the new German world. Thus 
 likewise Persius and Juvenal stand on the boundary 
 between the old Roman world-sovereignty and the 
 new Greco-Eroman life of the Empire. 
 
 These two phenomena, then, are so essentially 
 peculiar to the sixteenth century, that, though it pos- 
 sesses much in common with the two preceding cen- 
 turies, it must be considered by itself as a separate period. 
 
 From the above it appears that it is clearly an his- 
 torical mistake to say with the moderns — chiefly those 
 of the Eomish party — that the sixteenth century 
 arbitrarily destroyed all the recollections of the old and 
 better German period from mere lust of revolution ; 
 or that they ignored and suppressed all the grand old 
 literature out of hatred to Popery. The glory of the 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 265. 
 
 ancient literature had long before this been dimmed.. 
 The German world had long been quite dead to the 
 nobler gratification afforded by the poetry of former 
 centuries ; and so the writers of the sixteenth century 
 threw away the faded wreath, and forsaking a path 
 which was no longer tenable, struck out a new line, 
 more according with the spirit of the age. The inter-< 
 ruption to the progress of German literary culture is 
 much to be lamented; but not less so the degeneracy 
 of national consciousness and the utter destruction of 
 national recollections, the loss of political greatness and 
 political truth, the severance of the old bands of love 
 and gratitude between emperor and prince, prince 
 and nobility, nobility and peasants. All this was on 
 the point of taking place in the sixteenth century, but 
 the blame of it must not be attached solely to the 
 century and its ecclesiastical events. 
 
 Theological polemics, it is true, were inimical to the 
 interests of German national poetry ; but the foe of all 
 others most destructive to . it, for the time being, was 
 the taste for classic erudition, for Greek and E,oman 
 philology, which now set in with a zeal and energy 
 truly marvellous : so much so that the sixteenth cen- 
 tury is acknowledged to be the golden age of the 
 philologers. For some time the national element was 
 thrown into the shade by the classical and foreign one. 
 At last, however, after a long and tedious process, an 
 amalgamation of the two was effected; and after a 
 period of three hundred years, we have the second 
 classical period of German poetry. Indeed, it is pos- 
 sible that, had not the Greeks and Romans held un- 
 disputed sway over German literature for so many 
 
266 GEEMAK LITEEATtJEE. 
 
 centuries, its modern revival could never have been 
 effected : but of this hereafter. 
 
 While the study of Greek and Roman philology was 
 thus in the ascendant, nothing would go down but 
 what savoured of the ancient classics. Public life 
 became, so to say, a great school for making Latin 
 speeches and Latin verses. The real world of action 
 and fact was thrown into the shade by an unreal world 
 of books. The poetry of the people, under such cir- 
 cumstances, was looked upon pretty much in the same 
 light as the invading Komans regarded the poetry of 
 the ancient Germans. In the sixteenth century "a, 
 German poet " was a term of reproach. Instead of the 
 history of their forefathers, the young generation had 
 nothing but cramped compendiums of the history of 
 foreign nations placed before them. It seemed, in fact, 
 to be the policy of that age — a policy of which Germany 
 still shows the evil effects — to denationalize the people 
 as much as possible, and make so many antique, 
 heathens of them, as far as thought and feeling were 
 concerned. 
 
 But although German popular poetry thus deceased, 
 it made a merry end of it. Unaware of its impending 
 dissolution, unconcerned about the contempt and indif- 
 ference it encountered almost universally amoncr the 
 higher classes, its sallies were as lively, as boisterous, 
 as unrestrained as of yore. The split that separated 
 North and South Germany in religious and ecclesi- 
 astical matters, and went to the very heart of the 
 people, seemed to do it no injury. On the contrary, 
 its humour seemed to become more wakeful, more 
 animated, in consequence. At first, Protestants and 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 267 
 
 Catholics alike preserved the old poetical reminiscences, 
 especially the national song (Volkslied.) But at the 
 close of the sixteenth century the wounds inflicted on 
 the nation began to tell on their poetry. Hencefor- 
 ward the poetic power seemed to reside exclusively 
 with the Protestants in the North of Germany ; and, 
 indeed, from that time to the present, it is only in this 
 part of the country that literature generally has taken 
 root and flourished. 
 
 We will now proceed to examine the several walks 
 of poetry in detail. The old national epic was just 
 about to expire. Not only was there nothing new 
 written in it, but even the old was forgotten. In the 
 sixteenth century, there could scarcely have been a 
 soul, except the Emperor Maximilian and his secretary, 
 and the learned historian "Wolfgang Lazius, who knew 
 a word of the " Nibelungenlied " and " Gudrun." The 
 " Heldenbuch " was reprinted several times, it is true, in 
 the course of the sixteenth century ; but in the eyes of 
 the learned it passed for a barbarous old wives' book ; 
 and in the beginning of the seventeenth century it was 
 looked upon as a curious piece of antiquity, — indeed, 
 many regard it as such now, and not as what it really 
 is, a bit of the very life and soul of the people. Several 
 of the separate Sagas, e. g. those of Dietrich, were also 
 printed ;* but among the learned they were despised 
 
 * The separate sagas were published chiefly in Nuremberg, (" Der 
 Riese Sigenot" by V. Neuber, the "HildebrandsUed" by K. Hergotin, 
 the "HornenSigfried"byG.Wachter); also in Strasburg (the "Sigenot" 
 and " Ecken Ausfart" by Christian Miiller) ; at Frankfort (by Wigand 
 Han); occasionally, too, in Lower Germany, but in the Platt-deutsch 
 N 2 
 
268 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 even more than the " Heldenbuch." Their small octavo 
 form at once indicated that they were only intended 
 for the illiterate rabble. Sigfrid's ''Dragon Fight" 
 was in the mere form of a broadside. 
 
 The old Art-Epic was likewise all but defunct. It 
 IS true, that at the end of the preceding century a 
 version of Ovid's " Metamorphoses " by Albrecht von 
 Halbergtadt*, a poet of the beginning of the thir- 
 teenth century, appeared in print ; as likewise Konrad 
 von WUrzburg's pretty tale of " Engelhart and Engel- 
 trut." t But the former work found favour chiefly on 
 account of its classical contents. It is somewhat sin- 
 gular that no MS. of either of these works is to be 
 found. 
 
 The material of the Artus-saga was also still known ; 
 not, however, through the ancient poems, but by the 
 prose German versions from the French. But at the 
 end of this period, i. e. about 1620 A.D., both National 
 and Art Epic fell into oblivion, or at the most were 
 only to be found among the miscellaneous stock in 
 trade of travelling hawkers. 
 
 dialect (e. g. tlie recently discovered lay of " Ermanrichs Tod "). At 
 Nuremberg these sagas kept teing reprinted till late in the seventeenth 
 century. In 1661, Endter, of that city, published "Sigenot" and the 
 " Hildebrandslied." 
 
 * Written A..D. 1210. This was modernised by Georg "Wikram, and 
 in this altered shape the poem went through several editions, e.g. 1545 
 and 1581. 
 
 t "Engelhart" is based upon the saga of "Amiens and Amelins." 
 Compare If eller, " Le Eoman des Sept Sages," p. ccxxxi., and " Diocle- 
 tianus," p. 63, Mone, " Anzeig." 1838, sp. 145. The tale was published, 
 in a tolerably modest modernisation, at Frankfort, 1573, by Kilian Han, 
 and edited, in 1841, with restored text, by Haupt. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 269 
 
 Of the few story-tellers in verse during this century, 
 Hans Sachs*, the cobbler and Melstersinger of Nu- 
 remberg, far excels the rest in fertility, liveliness, and 
 humour, and in the popular nature of his verse. His 
 compositions were of the serious as weU as the jocose 
 kind. The former he calls " Histori und Geschicht," 
 the latter "Fabeln und gute Schwenk," fables and 
 good jokes. This remarkable man was and is the 
 best known German poet of the sixteenth century. 
 Creative poet and moulder of the spirit of his age he was 
 not ; but he possessed uncommon talent for mastering 
 any given subject. His style is easy and free from 
 stiffness ; his tone is gentle and without exaggeration ; 
 while his wit and humour are amusing in the extreme. 
 These good qualities are most conspicuous in his 
 secular stories. His dramas stand next. The most that 
 can be said of his sacred compositions, e. y. versions of 
 different parts of the Bible, is that they evince a cer- 
 tain mechanical facility in versifying. His Meister- 
 
 * There are three cheap editions of Hans Sachs' works. The first was 
 superintendedby himself, in 3 vols, folio, 1558-1561, Nnremherg, George 
 Wilier. This eontaias 789 poetic pieces, and was often repuhlished 
 down to 1591. The second edition, in 5 toIs. folio, 1570-1579, Nu- 
 remberg, J. Lochner. The two last toIs. of this edition contain 580 
 new pieces, over and above those in the first edition. The third edition, 
 in 5 quarto vols., Kempten, 1612-1617. In 1712 it was republished 
 at Augsburg, with a new title. In this, two pieces respecting the 
 Evangelical Church are wanting. Bertuch, at Weimar, 1778, and 
 Haslein, 1781, and Becker, Gotha, 1821, tried to get up new editions^ 
 but failed. Busching's modernized selection, in 5 vols, 1816 — 1824, is 
 a failure. Gotz's edition, in 4 vols., 1829-30, is fair upon the whole. 
 A reprint of the rare original edition is much wanted. Respecting 
 H. Sachs' unprinted works, see a Programme at Leipzig by Naumann, 
 1843, and another at Zwickau, by Hertel, 1854.. 
 N 3 
 
270 GEEMAU LITEEATDEE. 
 
 gesange are pretty much on a par with those of the 
 other writers in this line. It is evident from his verses 
 that the old traditional form of the short pair of rhymes 
 was not capahle of being restored to its ancient glory. 
 Perhaps the new language did not permit of it. In- 
 deed, the technical deficiencies so apparent in many 
 parts of his verse, indicate that the old German art of 
 versification was on the eve of a revolution, such as 
 Opitz afterwards introduced. In spite of this, his 
 merits as a story-teller cannot he gainsayed. All the 
 artificial scribblers of the seventeenth century, and 
 all the conceited poetasters of the eighteenth, who pro- 
 fessed to look down on the cobbler of Nuremberg, are 
 immeasurably inferior to him. In rapidity and anima- 
 tion of description, in soundness of feeling and natural- 
 ness of expression, he is much above Gellert, and not 
 less superior to the writers of the present day, when 
 the taste for artificial writing has again revived. How 
 simple and yet how vivacious is his " Schlarafienland " 
 (Utopia) ; how delicately and yet how inimitably he 
 hits off many of the topics of the day. Nothing of the 
 kind either in High or Low German at all comes near it. 
 Again, his stories of " St. Peter with the Goat " (" St. 
 Peter mit der Geiss "), and " The Lazy Peasant Lad " 
 (" Der faule Bauemknecht ") : how naive and hearty ; 
 how sharp and teUing ! And then, how admirably he 
 describes the busy bustling of a quarrelsome woman in 
 his " KiflFerbeskraut !" Here a lover of gardening asks 
 for advice as to what flowers and vegetables he had 
 better plant in his garden. Several sorts of seeds are 
 recommended to him, some for show, some for use ; and. 
 
THE OLD PEBIOD. 271 
 
 last of all, some Kifferbsen (summer peas). At the men- 
 tion of these he screams out, "O no Kifferbsen, no Kiffer- 
 beskraut !* I've enough of that at home. Like weeds, 
 it won't be got rid of. It's never frost-bitten in winter, 
 never burnt up in summer ; it grows all over the house. 
 In the cellar, in the bath, in the kitchen, parlour, 
 chamber, Kifferbeskraut gives me endless bother; in 
 the cock-loft worst of all. Whatever my wife's about, 
 there is this everlasting plague. Whether she is wash- 
 ing the children, or carrying water, or baking cakes, 
 setting the kitchen to rights, sweeping the house, 
 making the beds, cleaning feathers, drying flax in the 
 sun, scouring the pans, or having a wash^ the weed 
 straight grows apace, tiU I get in such a stew that I'm 
 fairly lost. My wife gives me such a lot of it — fills 
 me, chokes me with it, so that I devoutly wish it had 
 never been sown. Yes, curse it and confound it, root 
 and branch ; many a good fellow would be so heartily 
 glad." 
 
 But it is not in domestic scenes only that he excels. 
 The peculiarities of artizan life are likewise inimitably 
 described. The tailor throws great pieces of cloth to 
 the mouse, and is horrified in a dream to see the 
 Devil with a huge flag made of aU the odds and 
 ends of cloth which he (the tailor) had ever " sent to 
 the mouse " (e. e., purloined as his perquisite :) Upon 
 this he vows by all that is most sacred he will never 
 throw anything to the mouse again. For a long time 
 
 * There is a punning allusion in Kifferbsen to the -vrord " keifeu," 
 to scold. To make it intelligible, we may translate it by " scarlet-run- 
 ner," which facetious persons might apply to a scolding woman's tongue. 
 —Editor. 
 
 K 4 
 
272 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 he keeps his vow, till at last he gets a piece of gold 
 brocade to make up. The other journeymen tailors 
 remind him of the flag ; upon which he observes he 
 does not think there is any gold brocade in the flag ; 
 and forthwith flies a great piece after the mouse. At 
 last the tailor dies, and St. Peter, out of compassion, 
 permits him to sit behind the stove in heaven. One 
 day, peeping out of his corner down upon the earth 
 below, he sees a woman stealing a piece of cloth, and 
 hurls the Almighty's footstool at her, which makes her 
 hump-backed for life. Presently his escapade is dis- 
 covered, and the Lord says to him, " Oh, tailor, tailor ! 
 suppose I. had thrown my footstool at you every time 
 you stole the folk's cloth and threw it after the mouse. 
 Why, your house would not have had a tile left on it 
 by this time, and you would have been on crutches, 
 with your back bent and legs crooked. How dare 
 you throw, then, you vulgar fellow ! " 
 
 Our worthy poet confines himself in this manner to 
 a description of the customs and notions actually pre- 
 valent among the middle and lower classes, and therein 
 displays his poetic powers to considerable advantage. 
 He often borrows from other authors, ancient and 
 modern, who had become known through the medium 
 of translations ; and the wonder is that a cobbler could 
 ever have read so much, and that he could have dressed 
 up what he borrowed with such propriety. In Ger- 
 many the interest taken in him has never been equal 
 to his deserts. In the days of the Reformation he 
 may be said to have represented the Burgher party, 
 which was in favour of that movement, and he enjoyed 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 273 
 
 the esteem of Melancthon. His poem, " Die Witten- 
 bergische Nachtigall," was written in 1523, in honour 
 of the good cause, which he did much to promote among 
 the citizens of Nuremberg. 
 
 Among the race of erudite poets that now followed 
 he fell into contempt, being considered the very ideal 
 of bad rhymers. " Hans Sachse was a cobbler and 
 poet all in one," was a line in ererybody's mouth. 
 Hoffmannswaldau, however, was alive to his real merits. 
 But it was Goethe who emphatically called attention 
 to the Volkslied (popular poetry), and the value of 
 Hans Sachs. Wieland, too, although he had little in 
 common with the poet of Nuremberg, was very sensible 
 of his worth. To give an idea of his fertiUty, we may 
 mention that, in the months of July, August, and 
 September, 1563, i. e., in the poet's sixty-ninth year, 
 he wrote four-and-twenty " Geschichten und Schwanke" 
 and six religious pieces, besides " Meistergesange," and 
 that many of the first-mentioned are among his best 
 compositions. From 1514 to 1569 he never relaxed 
 this poetical activity, so that it is not difficult to con- 
 ceive how that, two years earlier than this (1567), he 
 had already written 208 comedies and tragedies, 1,700 
 humorous stories (Schwanke), and 4,200 master songs. 
 "We have little difficulty in summing them up, for, with 
 the business-like habit of a burgher, he not only affixes 
 his name to all his pieces, but likewise the year and 
 very day of their composition. Of course many of these 
 pieces betray symptoms of hurry, and other imperfec- 
 tions. But this remark applies least to his printed 
 pieces, as he himself selected these from the rest with 
 
 N 5 
 
274 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 the most scrapulous nicety, taking care to exclude 
 from the press every one of his master songs. Many 
 of the poets of the seventeenth century, and of a still 
 later date, would have done well to have imitated him 
 in this respect. In his eightieth year, he lost his 
 hearing and speech, and became imbecile. One of 
 his grateful pupils relates how the old man used to sit, 
 his hair and beard snow-white, with his great book 
 open on the desk before him, just giving a bow to 
 visitors, and regarding them with mild and friendly 
 countenance, until at last he fell gently asleep, on the 
 25th January 1576, in the eighty-second year of his 
 age. 
 
 The other noticeable story-teller of the sixteenth 
 century is Johann Fischart, named Menzer, who was 
 one of the first spirits of the century. His poem, 
 which we have here to mention, gives a description of 
 the voyage of the Zurich Kifle Club from thence to 
 Strasburg, in one day of the month of June 1576 ; 
 and, in proof of the rapidity of the transit, a kettle of 
 millet broth, which had been cooked at Zurich, was 
 still warm when they got to Strasburg. " Das gliick- 
 haft Schiff von Ziirich," (the Lucky Ship of Zurich,)* 
 is the title of the piece. The descriptions are remark- 
 ably truthful and life-like ; the language is noble, and 
 full of pith and concentration. Besides, the poet con- 
 ceives the whole from a high point of view. It is his 
 
 * It -was re-edited, 1828, by K. Hailing. The explanations in it, 
 however, are -worthless, and the catalogue of Ksohart's writings defi- 
 cient. Compare the article " Tischart," in the " Allg. Encyclopadie von 
 Ersch und Gruher." 
 
THE OLD PBEIOD. 275 
 
 object to show wbat can be done by energy and 
 strength of will ; the straightforwardness of the con- 
 federate burghers, and the importance of friendly inter- 
 course between the different cities, are also put before 
 the reader. In fact, the poem is not only the best of 
 the narrative kind during this and the two next cen- 
 turies, but it is among the best that was ever written 
 in this line in German. 
 
 Of the remaining narrative poems of this period none 
 deserves to be mentioned. Valentin Andrea, in his 
 " Christenburg," attempts to imitate Fischart ; but he 
 is much too allegorical and long-winded.* 
 
 Animal Epic also was known to the age which 
 we are now describing by the poem " Eeinecke Vos," 
 and even the learned world took favourable notice 
 of it, but with that taste for satire, then so prevalent, 
 only as a species of satirical poetry. This view of It 
 originated an entirely new sort of poetry, which, 
 though inferior to the genuine animal epic, nevertheless 
 exercised a very sensible influence on Germany from 
 that day to this. We allude to the so-called " Alle- 
 goric-Satiric-Animal " Poem, which holds an interme- 
 diate place betweeen Animal Epic and Fable, and is 
 peculiar to the period now under consideration. The 
 chief specimens in it are G. RoUenhagen's "Frosch- 
 
 * Johann Valentm Andrea was a theologian of importance as far as 
 the inner history of the evangelical church is concerned. He ^ras a 
 really learned person, and therefore opposed to the useless learning of 
 his time. He was greatly admired by Spener, and Herder has called 
 special attention to him. His " Christenburg," written 1620, was re- 
 discovered lately, and published by Griineisen in- Dlgen's " Zeitschrift 
 fur historische Theologie," voL vi. 1. 
 
 H 6 
 
276 GEEMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 meuseler," Fischart's "Flohatz/' C. Fuchs' "Ameisen 
 und Miickenkrleg," W. Spangenberg's " Ganskonig," 
 and Rose von Kreuzheim's " Eselkcinig," the last in 
 prose. To some of these the above designation will 
 hardly apply. The liveliest and wittiest of them, for 
 instance, Fischart's " Flohatz," is a purely comic poem, 
 especially in the first half of it ; anything but satiric or 
 allegorical ; least of all didactic. The subject, as the 
 name imports, are the small animals that plague hu- 
 manity ; and the sufferings they inflict upon a traveller 
 in Italy are described with incomparable reality and 
 humour. The compassion which the victim stands in 
 need of, but which it is impossible to give him, forms a 
 truly comic antithesis. Of course there is no lack of 
 coarseness about it, a thing inseparable from low 
 comedy. So popular was it in 1577 that the copies 
 were laid hands on and thumbed to pieces as they came 
 out of the press, which accounts for the paucity of 
 copies of it at the present day, notwithstanding the 
 many editions that appeared.* To the " Frosch- 
 raeuseler," on the contrary, the appellation of aUegoric- 
 satiric-didactic may correctly apply. EoUenhagen 
 wrote it about 1560, but it was first printed in 1595 ; 
 since then frequently. According to the author, this 
 poem is intended as a sort of "Weltspiegel (mirror of the 
 world), and is based on Homer's " Batrachomachia." 
 The introduction is thoroughly epic, with familiar 
 and tender sympathy for the animal kingdom. Pre- 
 sently the animal epic ceases, and the beasts that 
 
 * "Flohatz "appeared in numerous editions before 1577, but they are 
 all lost. After 1577 six editions are known. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 277 
 
 appear are nothing but men in disguise, who converse 
 about all sorts of things secular and- spiritual, e. g., on 
 the papacy and alchymy, treasure-digging, and the 
 advantages of monarchy, with numerous illustrations 
 from the world of fable. It is not till near the end, 
 when the frogs and mice fight, that the story again 
 inclines to the epic. The poetic effect of the whole 
 loses from the abundance of allegory ; but the style is 
 animated, the language pure, and the versification 
 clever; and the descriptions are careful and clear, so 
 that the " Froschmeuseler " may be considered what it 
 always has been, one of the best poetic products of 
 the sixteenth century. The greater part of it might 
 be read with advantage even now. 
 
 The other poems are less noteworthy. The " Gans- 
 konig," by Spangenberg, son of the well-known his- 
 torian and theologian of that name, is in praise of roast 
 Martinmas goose, and the only epic part about it is the 
 preamble, when the birds debate whom they shall 
 choose for a king. But even this part is all speeches, 
 and no action. The language is good and the verse 
 flowing. It appeared at Strasburg in 1607, i. e., 
 at the extreme limit of the period which we are con- 
 sidering. 
 
 Fuchs' "Ameisen und Miickenkrieg," afterwards 
 altered by one Pastor Balthasar Schnurr, of Schmal- 
 kald, is a fair version of a macaronic poem (Itahan 
 and Latin).* The " Eselkonig" (King of the Asses) 
 
 * It is an imitation of the " Moscaea" Of Teofilo Folengo (which last 
 ■was imitated in Spanish by J. Villaviciosa, see Huber " Span. Lesebuch," 
 1832, p. 403). It was published first at Sohmalkald, 1580 j Schnurr's 
 
278 GEEMAN LITERATURE, 
 
 is not a bad satire (in prose) on the biped namesakes of 
 that animal, who attain to riches and honour without 
 deserving it. But it is not very important.* 
 
 Akin to the animal epic is the didactic fable. Of 
 this there are two representatives, Erasmus Alberus 
 and Burkard Waldis, both natives of Hessia, and both 
 clergymen. The former died at Neubrandenburg in 
 Mecklenburg. Waldis, after being a monk, led a 
 desultory life, and at last became Vicar of Abterode. 
 
 It is not in the invention of new animal fables that 
 their chief merit lay, but in their method of descrip- 
 tion : that of Alberus is lengthy, but correct ; while 
 that of Waldis is very lively and humorous. The 
 former only wrote forty-nine fables f, while the latter 
 has left versions of three hundred fables from other 
 languages. It now becomes the fashion more than in 
 the case of the Strieker, to give, after the manner of 
 JEsop and Phaedrus, under the title of fables, short 
 epigrammatic tales from real life, humorous stories, 
 jests, &c., which is the case with the three hundred 
 
 version, 1612 j re-edited by Genthe, 1833, and yrith a new title, in 
 1846. 
 
 * Putlished at Ballenstadt about 1617-1620. A specimen of it 
 appears in Waekemagel,3, 1, sp. 605-620. 
 
 t " Das Buch von der Tugent und Weisheit, &o. durch Erasmmn 
 Albenun," 1550. Alberus -was probably not bom at Staden (after- 
 wards priest there), though educated there. Hence he calls the in- 
 habitants "his countrymen." He wrote most of his fables in the 
 quiet period of his life, while a schoolmaster at ITrsel (1525-1527), and 
 clergyman at Sprendlingen (1527-1528). He says he wrote them " in 
 his youth," and now publishes them (1^50, while he was at Magdeburg), 
 " revised and corrected." A few fresh notices on his life, by H. Fallers- 
 leben, appeared in the " Mecklenburgisches Volksbuch" of 1846, 
 p. 187. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 279 
 
 fables of Waldis.* The fourth hundred are his own 
 composition, with the exception of a few specimens, 
 one of which, (" Die Betfart des Esels in Gesellschaft 
 des Fuchses und Wolfes,") belongs to the old animal 
 epic. All these are made up of merry tales, jokes, and 
 anecdotes, mostly of the day. Some, however, are 
 traditionary, as, for instance, the tale of the swineherd 
 who becomes an abbot, and which partly belongs to 
 the Saga of " Pfaff Amis," and from which Biirger drew 
 the materials of his " The Emperor and the Abbot." 
 In the same way Hagedorn, GeUert, and Zacharia got 
 the best of their materials from the fables of the old 
 Parson of Abterode. Of didactic and descriptive 
 poems there was no lack in these days. Hans Sachs' 
 " Landsknechts-Spiegel" vividly pourtrays the life of 
 these wild soldiers. Fischart and Bartholomaus Ring- 
 vald are also worthy of mention. 
 
 Fischart's didactic poems are superior to any of the 
 sixteenth century; and indeed, in some respects, to 
 any didactic pieces of modern times. Many of them 
 are to be found in a volume of his, the first half of 
 which contains a translation of Plutarch's work on 
 marriage, the second half an original treatise by 
 Fischart himself on domestic life. It is remarkable 
 with what delicacy this greatest of German satirists 
 paints the happiness and tranquillity of home ; the quiet 
 
 * Waldis was rector of Abterode from September 13th, 1544, and 
 must have died 1555, or soon after. His " Fabelbuch " appeared 1548. 
 " Esopus gantz neuw gemacht, &c. durch B. Waldis," often republished. 
 The newest and best account of Waldis is given by Mittler in the 
 "Hessisches Jahrbuch" of 1855. 231, (also in a separate form). A 
 drama by Waldis, "Der verlorene Sohn," was re-edited by Hoefer, 1851. 
 
280 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 indoor' occupations, the gentleness, the untiring in- 
 dustry, of the genuine housewife. Prose and verse 
 alike are replete with earnestness and tenderness. The 
 following extracts in proof of our opinion* '' There- 
 fore a husband should treat his wife with consideration. 
 He must not be rude to her, but mild and faithful. 
 For rudeness only breeds shyness, and shyness broken 
 vows, and then comes remorse. But kindness and 
 gentleness will make her true and willing. A man 
 must not be a storm-wind to turn the house upside 
 down, but imitate the sun's wit, which works not by 
 sudden but by gradual heat," &c. 
 
 And then of the wife : — " When he shouts she'll be 
 silent. When he's silent, then she'll speak to him. 
 Is he heated, she'U be cool. Is he furious, shell be 
 calm. Is he moody, she will soothe him. Is he 
 impetuous, she'll be gentle. Does he rage, she will 
 yield. Is he savage, she is meek. He is the sun, she 
 is the moon. She's the night, he has the might of day. 
 That which the sun has parched by day the night 
 doth cool by the moon's power. Unless this is done, 
 then, as the proverb says, ' Two hard stones never 
 grind small,' A wise woman lets the maii storm ; but, 
 on the other hand, she'll not let him sulk long, but by 
 gentle ways and friendly speech she'll loosen his tongue 
 by times." 
 
 With equal warmth and force, and no less tender- 
 ness, he describes the relations that ought to subsist 
 between Christian parents and their children. Parental 
 
 * These passages occur in the " Ehzuchtbiichlein," 1578, A. 7h. and 
 D. 6 a. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 281 
 
 and filial joys and duties have never been better 
 described than in the short poem of scarcely two 
 hundred lines, which until lately was unknown.* 
 Nothing can be sweeter and more truthful than his 
 praise of country life and that favourite instrument, the 
 lute ; while his " Earnest Advice to his dear Fellow- 
 countrymen," wherein he talks of " das Deutsche 
 Adlergemiith," is an appeal to national honour so 
 forcible and solemn, that three centuries have not pro- 
 duced its equal. It is to be found in Wackernagel's 
 " Lesebuch." 
 
 Bartholomaus Eingwald, pastor of Lengefeld,in the 
 Altmark, lived a little later. His poem, " Die lautere 
 "Warheit," prescribes the duties of a worldly and spi- 
 ritual warrior. Here we have a vivid picture of the 
 state of Germany in those days, with its dissensions, 
 drunkenness, frivolity, and love of gorgeous apparel. 
 Though earnest in tone, the piece does not lack humour 
 and vivacity. The language is pure, and the verse 
 tolerably fluent. It soon became a favourite in Korth 
 Germany; and between 1.585 and 1598 went through 
 ten editions. His other didactic poem, " Der treue 
 Eckart" (a vision of Heaven and Hell), is a capital 
 portrait of contemporary manners. The vanity of a fin6 
 lady is hit off with the utmost sharpness and simplicity. 
 
 In the period which we are now describing, we have 
 Meistergesang sticking tenaciously to its old groove, 
 and gradually stiffening into incurable rigidity ; while 
 
 * The "Anmanungzu christKcher Kinderzucht" was published by 
 Vihnar in the "Znr Literatur J. Kscharts," 1846 ; is also to be found 
 in the excellent -work of Below and Zaoher, " J. Fischart's Geistliche 
 Lieder, Christliche Kinderzucht und Lob der Lauten," Berlin, 1849. 
 
282 GEEMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 the "Volkslied," which originated in the preceding 
 period, in this period blooms and dies. 
 
 The only poet who could infuse the slightest breath 
 of life into the old artificial forms of the old Minne- 
 gesang, is Burkard Waldis, the Hessian. He composed 
 a version of the whole Psalter in old Minnesinger 
 fashion, but in the tripartite strophe. The prominent 
 faults of the Master-singers, their stiffiaess und clumsi- 
 ness, their painful minuteness and precision, are here 
 not in the least observable. Many of these psalms 
 continued to be sung in churches throughout the seven- 
 teenth century, some even to our times. 
 
 In the midst of these fruitless attempts to revive the 
 art of ancient days, we see indications of the new era 
 which was to be inaugurated by Opitz fifty years later, 
 in the choice of ancient and romance metres, and in the 
 exuberant use of epithets. 
 
 ■ ^ Paul Melissus, whose real name was Schede, and 
 who was endowed with considerable poetic powers, was 
 the first person of any note to introduce classic poetry 
 into Germany. In the beginning of the second half of 
 the sixteenth century he composed the first German 
 sonnets and " Terzines." He also wrote Iambics and 
 Trochaics, wherein he affected the elegance of the 
 modem Latin poets. His language is at times stilted, 
 and almost monstrous; but his expressions are often 
 apt and true. His chief work is a version of the first 
 fifty psalms. 
 
 But the noblest production of the German lyric muse 
 in the sixteenth century, is the " Evangelical Church 
 Hymn." 
 
 In the oldest times, the only part the community 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 283 
 
 took In church music was to sing the Kyrie eleison in 
 the Litany. Later they sang short strophes in pro- 
 cessions. The brilliant poets of the thirteenth century 
 did nothing towards bringing the people to participate 
 in religious song. In those days they got no further 
 than the religious lay, with its deep reflections on the 
 mysteries of Heaven, of the Creation and of Redemp- 
 tion ; its brilliant descriptions of the wonders of the 
 Holy Trinity, the grace and sublimity of the Mother 
 of God, and the glories of eternal life. In such topics 
 as these the mind of the singer was absorbed. 
 
 These compositions were never meant to be intro 
 duced into the Church Liturgy, nor were they adapted 
 for it. Church song was, and continued to be, Latin, 
 and was under the auspices of the ecclesiastical autho- 
 rities. It was epic in its nature, dwelling on the 
 Almighty's works — Creation, Redemption, Sanctifi- 
 catlon — in an abstracted point of view, without alluding 
 to the effect of those things on the hearts of men. 
 The admirable productions of Latin hymnic in this 
 line are well known. 
 
 But towards the middle of the fourteenth, and stUl 
 more in the beginning of the fifteenth century, eccle- 
 siastical song like lyric poetry began to adapt them- 
 selves to the wants of the people, whUe the great 
 truths of Christianity were enunciated in simpler speech; 
 the Christian joy and Christian sorrow, not of Indi- 
 viduals, but of the mass, also found utterance. Many 
 of these Church hymns assumed the identical form 
 of national songs (Volkslied). Indeed, many secular 
 songs were, by an easy process, transformed into 
 
284 GEKMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 religious songs, e. g., the pieces of the monk, Jbhanh 
 von Salzburg and Heinrich von Laufenberg. So also 
 the lay « In dulci Jubilo." 
 
 The very essence of the Reformation was that it 
 -made a sense of sin, and redemption by Jesus Christ, 
 a matter for the heart of each individual man. It is 
 personal experience of sin and of mercy upon which it 
 lays so much stress. The middle wall of partition 
 between clergy and laity is broken down ; for whatever 
 may be the diversity of spiritual gifts accorded to each, 
 to all alike the same means of salvation are open. And 
 in this sense it is that the Reformation was a truly 
 popular phenomenon. And hence her poetry — the 
 " Evangelical Church Hymn " — is also popular in the 
 strictest signification. What was said before of popu- 
 lar poetry, epic as well as lyric, applies with equal 
 force to it. It describes only what the writer has 
 really felt, really experienced, or rather only what is 
 true of all alike, what all have felt and experienced. 
 Sorrow for sin, the assurance of salvation, the heavenly 
 joy of the Christian's heart, the feeling of " Thou art 
 mine and I am thine, and none shall part us" — all 
 these, as they convulsed the soul, find their quick 
 utterance in the " Church Hymn." It is the very out- 
 pouring of the bottom of the heart Standing still, 
 contemplation, picturing and describing, tropes and 
 erudition are as foreign to the genuine "Evangelical 
 Hymn" as they were to the old popular epic. In form, 
 too, it is popular. The Hildebrandston, the tripartite 
 strophe, and the short pairs of rhymes, all of them long 
 recognised vehicles of popular poetry, are the dress 
 
.THE OLD PEEIOD. 285 
 
 ■which the real *' Evangelical Church Hymn" of the 
 sixteenth century exclusively wore, and continued to 
 wear, at least its best specimens, in the succeeding 
 period. Add to this, as above hinted, many of these 
 hymns adopt the tone and style, and even the melody 
 of secular poems of those days. Thus, the air of 
 " O "Welt, ich muss dich lassen !" which is the same as 
 the modern " Nun ruhen alle Walder," is akin to that 
 of " Insbruck, ich muss dich lassen/' So, " Herzlich 
 thut mich verlangen," one of the most beautiful dirges 
 of the close of this period, reminds us of the older 
 spiritual song, " Herzlich thut mich erfreuen," which 
 last is nothing more nor less than a metamorphosis of 
 the summer song, " Herzlich thut mich erfreuen die 
 liebe Sommerzeit/' So in the song, ''Es ist das Heil 
 uns kommen her," there are direct references to the old 
 hero-song then in vogue among the people. 
 
 The people's love for their earthly monarchs and 
 heroes, which had been so long preserved in popular 
 lay, was now, in the ''Evangelical Hymn," trans- 
 ferred to the King of Heaven, and the strong Hero 
 who had conquered death. The feelings of humanity, 
 joy, grief, constancy, were centered not on worldly but 
 heavenly objects; and thus the popular songwas hallowed 
 by the Gospel. It cannot be said, however, that the 
 Church made the material of the popular lay its own. 
 It is not the substance, but rather the spirit of the 
 people's lay which has passed over into the sacred song. 
 Above all, it must be remembered that, as in the secu- 
 lar, so in the spiritual lay, the melody is intimately 
 
286 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 bound up -wltli the text. It is song that makes the 
 hymn everything, — the united voice of the people. 
 Eegarded in this light, as a holy popular song (not 
 poem), we can understand the almost magical effect 
 which it produced on the masses in the days of the 
 Reformation. Hardly was one of these pieces com- 
 posed before it was sung at every door ; the minstrel was 
 surrounded by a multitude, who caught up the melody, 
 and before he had got to the end of his song chimed in 
 with loud and joyful tones. Thus it spread like wild- 
 fire to every church, to every hearth, and made thou- 
 sands of converts to the evangelical faith. Luther's 
 songs, " Nun freut euch liebe Christen gmein," " Aus 
 tiefer Not schrei ich zu Dir ;" Paul Speratus's " Es ist 
 das Heil uns kommen her ;" Nicolaus Decius's " Allein 
 Grott in der Hoh sei Ehr," were borne, as it were, on 
 the wings of the wind from one end of Germany to the 
 other, were drunk in by hearts thirsting for the tidings 
 of salvation, and at once were imprinted fast on the 
 memories of the people — men, women, and children 
 alike — by them to be handed down to succeeding 
 generations. Nothing so true, so mighty in operation, 
 so edifying, so original, so affecting aU and belonging 
 to all, can ever be produced by any succeeding age. 
 For the true standard of genuine church lyrics we 
 must always revert to the Keformation. It is only the 
 true Evangelical Church Hymn that breathes that 
 lively, that practical, that personal interest in the God- 
 head, which constitutes its very essence. The Mora- 
 vian hymns are more explanatory and doctrinal, and 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 287 
 
 therefore often dry and tedious. One only, which is as 
 popular now as it was in 1550, surpasses all the rest, 
 " Nun lasst uns den Leib hegraben." The later Evangeli- 
 cal hymns, too, are often mere repetitions of the origi- 
 nal and early ones. The best lays of all are by Luther 
 himself, Paul Speratus, Nicolaus Decius, and Paul 
 Eber, in the first half and middle of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury ; then those of Nikolaus Hermann, Martin Schalling, 
 Bartholomaus Rlngwald, Ludwig Helmbold, Philipp 
 Nicolai, Johann Pappus, Christoph Knoll, and Valerius 
 Herberger, in the second half of the sixteenth and begin- 
 ning of the seventeenth century. The theme of all these 
 older hymns is the universal Evangelical faith, without 
 any special reference to peculiar circxmistances. The 
 grave events of succeeding times, the plague, and the ; 
 Thirty Year's War, gave birth to the heartfelt " Kreuz- 
 und Trost-Lieder" (Lays of the Cross and of ComfortJ, 
 which, in fact, are the only poetic productions of the 
 seventeenth century. 
 
 1 Before proceeding to consider the Comedy and Satire 
 of this period, a few words on the development of the 
 German drama. If the national consciousness had con- 
 tinued strong enough in itself, and had also not been 
 weakened by erudition on the one hand, and religious 
 struggles on the other, that would have perhaps hap- 
 pened in Germany which happened in ancient Greece. 
 The Sagas of Sigfried, Dietrich, and Hildebrand would 
 have been dramatized, in the same manner as Euripides 
 and Sophocles dramatized the heroes of Troy and the 
 tale of CEdipus. It is the province of the dramatist, 
 in fact, as we learn from the Greeks, not to invent, but 
 
288 GBEMAJif LITEEATUEE. 
 
 to clothe materials, traditionary and well known to all 
 the people, with a flesh-and-blood interest, in keeping 
 with the ideas of the age in which he lives, while he 
 preserves the ancient likeness. Thus, the best modern 
 German dramas are based on popular and traditionary 
 materials, e.g. Goethe's " Gotz von Berlichingen," and 
 especially his "Faust." So Schiller's " Wallenstein " 
 and "Wilhelm Tell." 
 
 The reason, however, that no satisfactory parallel 
 can be established between the growth of the Greek 
 and the German drama, is, that at the time when, 
 according to the usual course of things, drama ought to 
 have arisen in Germany, the popular poetic elements, 
 the old hero Sagas, were on the point of becoming ob- 
 solete with the people, and were ignored by the intel- 
 lectual aristocracy. And so the days, when it was 
 possible to have constructed a national drama, went by, 
 and even the examples of Schiller and Goethe, in after 
 times, have availed but little. 
 
 If, instead of writing elegant Latin verses, which 
 nobody reads now-a-days, Cobanus Hessus and Euri- 
 cius Cordus, or Frischlin (who did write Latin dramas) 
 had made better use of their poetic powers, — had dra- 
 matized subjects like the death of Sigfrid, or Margrave 
 Kudiger, or the Death of the Sons of Etzel, or Hilde- 
 brand and his Son, or Otnit and Hugdietrich, or even 
 Duke Ernest, how different the German drama would 
 have been. The sixteenth century might then, perhaps, 
 have produced a German Shakespeare. 
 
 It is true that Hans Sachs, with his characteristic 
 sound sense and right tact, took up some of these 
 
THE OLD PERIOD, 289 
 
 national subjects, and actually made the Death of 
 Sigfrid the topic of a drama. About the same time, 
 also (1545), the history of Tell was produced and acted 
 as a drama in Switzerland ; * and in the beginning of 
 the seventeenth century Jacob Ayrer, of Nuremberg, 
 dramatized Otnit and Hugdietrich. But these isolated 
 attempts fell flat on an age devoted to nought but 
 antique learning. Contemptuous pedants pronounced 
 these remarkable experiments to be old wives' tales. 
 And so it was that the following age had to begin the 
 task anew with no better success. A third attempt in 
 the eighteenth century was equally fruitless, until at 
 last Lessing struck out the only way towards a drama, 
 if not a national one. We shall merely remark, further, 
 that there are considerable merits in the dramatic pro- 
 ductions of Hans Sachs, especially in his " Fastnacht- 
 spiele" (Shrove-tide plays). The dialogue is often lively, 
 and the action truthful and rapid. Ayrer 's pieces are 
 ruder and coarser. 
 
 And now for the comic and satirical writings of this 
 period, which, as we shall find, were its natural charac- 
 teristic and production ; for these two, as we have hinted 
 above, always have been, and always will be, the birth 
 of an age when an old state of things is passing away, 
 and all is becoming new — when, consequently, every- 
 thing teems with incongruities and contradictions. It 
 
 * " Eiu hiipsoh und lustig Spyl vorzyten gehalten zu Vry, von dem 
 frommeu und ersten Eidgenossen, W. Thellen," ed. E. Meyer, 1843. 
 Concerning the Jacob Ayrer there mentioned, and his " Opus Thea- 
 tricum" (1618), see Helbig, in Prutz's "Literar. Taschenbuch,'' 1847, 
 p. 441 ; also Tieck's " Deutsches Theater," and Henneberger's " Jahr- 
 buch," 1855, p. 32; also Schmitt, "Jacob Ayrer," 1851. 
 
 O 
 
290 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 was so with the irony of Socrates ; it was so with the 
 undying comedy of Aristophanes. They stood on the 
 debateable ground between two totally distinct worlds 
 of Greek culture. So it was in Grermany in the six- 
 teenth century. A revolution in everything was in 
 progress, and the offspring of it were men like Brant, 
 Hutten, Murner, Fisehart — books like " Eulen- 
 spiegel " and " Lalenbuch," " Faust " and " Fortuna- 
 tus." There never was such a century of unextinguish- 
 able laughter as the sixteenth, in spite of aU its bitter 
 struggles and storms. No century was ever so addicted 
 to animal excess, to inordinate eating and drinking, and 
 yet at the same time so fuU of earnestness and depth 
 of feeling — so replete with austere learning and un- 
 tiring zeal — so capable of resignation and self-sacrifice. 
 Never was there a period when, with such a conscious- 
 ness of order and morality, immorality and lewdness 
 were more rampant — where, side by side with the most 
 elegant and refined modern tastes, was witnessed so 
 much brutality and coarseness of demeanour. Low 
 avarice and utter indifference about money and posses- 
 sions — love of home and domestic quiet and insatiate 
 desire for roaming ; these, and many more, were among 
 the striking contradictions of the times. Of course 
 comedy must not describe these anomalies by halves, 
 but set them down in all their glaring contrast. And 
 so there is nothing tame about the satire of those 
 days, no glossing over n:iatters, but it advances to 
 its task just as it ought, unsparing, vigorous, undis- 
 mayed. 
 
 Foremost among these satirists stands Sebastian 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 291 
 
 Brant, syndic of Strasburg, whose " Ship of Fools " 
 . was written as early as 1494. But he Is best men- 
 tioned here because he It was that gave the tone which 
 prevailed through the whole of the sixteenth century. 
 His work is called " Ship of Fools," because there were 
 so many that no carriage could hold them ; and here 
 they come from all sides, wading and swimming to- 
 wards the ship, for fear of being left behind. But 
 whoever looks upon himself as a fool is not taken on 
 board — only those who fancy themselves witty. One 
 hundred and thirteen sorts of fools are admitted. Each 
 one is fitted with a cap set with bells exactly to his 
 measure. Brant takes the lead himself, in the capacity 
 of book-fool, a personage then so common, — one who 
 has many books, and is everlastingly purchasing more, 
 without ever reading or understanding them. Then 
 comes the miser-fool, dandy-fool, honour-fool, old fool, 
 &c., many of them sketched sharply, and to the life ; 
 some, however, but poorly. The versification is a dis- 
 jointed and degenerate sort of short pairs of rhymes. 
 It is written in the hard and rude dialect of Alsace, 
 but which possessed the advantage of having more 
 derisive nicknames in it than any other dialect of 
 Germany. The book took wonderfully, and went 
 through many editions and reprints. It was translated 
 into Low German (Piatt Deutsch) and Latin, and imi- 
 tated in German and Latin. Its jokes and aphorisms 
 were soon in everybody's mouth, and Geiler of Kai- 
 sersberg even made it the theme of several sermons. 
 And as a true mirror and uncompromising lasher of 
 contemporary vices, the book well deserved its reputa- 
 
 o 2 
 
292 GERMAN LITEKATUEE. 
 
 tlon; although, of course, many of its allusions are 
 necessarily lost upon us. It is a pity that the new 
 edition by Strobel, of Strasburg, has done so little to 
 clear up the difficulties.* 
 
 Brant died in 1530; but, previously to this, Stras- 
 burg had produced a rival in the same line. This was 
 Thomas Muruer, a Franciscan monk, who, in biting 
 wit, keen satire, largeness of view, and poetic anima- 
 tion, surpassed Brant. There was an uneasiness in his 
 character which kept him always on the move from 
 place to place, concocting all sorts of schemes and plans, 
 always envious and dissatisfied, proud and obstinate, 
 fomenting discords wherever he came. Hence the air 
 of rude and coarse defiance, instability, and impatience 
 of control which pervades his works. In spite of all 
 this, he is one of the greatest masters of satire that 
 Germany has produced. 
 
 According to his own account,f he wrote his " Nar- 
 renbeschworung " (exorcism of fools) in the year 1508, 
 the idea of which he evidently took from Brant's 
 " Narrenschifi"," though it is by no means a slavish 
 imitation of that work, as Gervinus and others errone- 
 ously imagine. Next followed his " Schelmenzunft " 
 
 * An excellent edition of Brant's "NarrenschifF" appeared in 1854, 
 ty Zarnoke. 
 
 t Mnrner says in his book, printed at the end of 1522, " Von dem 
 gros^en Lutherischen Narren :" — " Fuji fourteen years ago I exorcised 
 the little fools only." So that there may have been an edition of 
 the " Narrenbeschworung" in 1 506. The first known edition is that of 
 1512. Of " Das Buch vom gross. Luth. Narren," two editions appeared 
 in 1848, by Kurz, with good explanations ; and also in Scheible's collec- 
 tion, " Das Kloster," vol. x. In vol Tiii. of the same work Mumer's 
 " Gauchmatt" is also printed. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 293 
 
 (guild of rogues), full of the most caustic wit, and not 
 without passages of reckless and unnecessary coarse- 
 ness. It is an epitome of some of his sermons preached 
 at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, which, to judge from appeai-- 
 ances, must have been tolerably coarse. The object of 
 his fiercest and most successful onslaughts are the 
 monks and their hypocrisy. After this he wrote some 
 other satirical works, e. g., " Die Badenfart," " Die 
 Gauchmatte," "Die Miihle von Schwindelsheim. " 
 About this time Luther made his appearance on the 
 scene. Before long Mumer (who had translated 
 Luther's woik on the Babylonian Captivity into 
 German), arriving at the conviction that Luther was a 
 deceiver of the people and a destroyer of the faith, fell 
 foul of the great reformer and his party with all the 
 force of his satire. His remarkable treatise, written in 
 the year 1522, " Vbn dem grossen Lutherisehen Narren 
 wie ihn Dr. Murner beschworen hat," went beyond 
 all his previous efforts. Owing to the great scarcity 
 of copies of this, his most important work, many of the 
 critics, who never saw it, have formed very false ideas 
 of Murner as a writer. As a satire on the Reforma- 
 tion, it excels all other works for the vigour and unde- 
 viating pertinacity with which it pursues the object in 
 view, and the only writings on the Protestant side that 
 can be put in the balance against it are those of Fischart. 
 The polished Fischart, with his imperturbable good 
 temper, and calm smile of conscious superiority, of 
 course has the better of the Franciscan monk, with his 
 coarse and frantic bitterness. But it cannot be denied 
 that Murner, who does not enter upon the inward 
 
 o 3 
 
294 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 essence of the Reformation, deals the most skilful and 
 deadly blows at its external weaknesses. Such were, 
 for instance, the rage for iconoclasm; the attempts 
 made, chiefly by Von Hutten to upset all order, social 
 as well as ecclesiastical ; the empty cries of the mob for 
 liberty, verity, and the Gospel. No doubt there are 
 passages in it of uncommon coarseness, but even the 
 most unseemly expressions are not without poetic jus- 
 tification, and the work by no means deserves the 
 appellation of pasquinade, given it by Gervinus. The 
 descriptions are springy and animated beyond mea- 
 sure, though his versification is harsher and language 
 more rugged even than Brant's. Compared with this 
 poetical effusion, Murner's prose works on the same 
 subject are of much less mark, alike in breadth and 
 matter. 
 
 Ulrich von Hutten's world-renowned satires on 
 the opposite side, and the " Epistolae Obscurorum 
 Virorum," in which this remarkable man also had a 
 share, were written originally in Latin, and therefore 
 hardly belong to a history of German literature. 
 Indeed, many of them are untranslateable ; while in 
 others, which were translated under the superinten- 
 dence of the author, the wit has lost much of its point. 
 His " Klagrede,'' moreover, is rather a lecture than a 
 satire ; and it is uncertain whether certain prose writings 
 that have been attributed to him, e.g., " Der Karsthans" 
 (or peasant with the axe), was really by him or not. 
 Be this as it may, it was this piece which drew forth 
 Murner's chief work just mentioned. 
 
 Many other works in German and Latin of the days 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 295 
 
 of the Reformation have nothing comic or satirical 
 about them but the title-page. Such, for instance, are 
 " Der Barf iisser Monche Eulenspiegel und Alkoran," 
 by Erasmus Alberus, and C. Spangenberg's " Wider 
 die bosen sieben ins Teufels Kamoffelspiel." In the 
 latter part of the sixteenth century there was quite a 
 passion for giving ridiculous and unmeaning titles of 
 this sort to dry polemical treatises. 
 
 With Johann Fischart (named Menzer) we shall now 
 pass from the poetry to the prose works of this period. 
 It was in 1570 that he first began to make a noise in 
 the world as a writer of satire. Indeed, he is the great- 
 est satirist of Germany. He wrote both in poetry and 
 prose. Like the two authors just mentioned. Brant 
 and Murner, he was of Strasburg, so that Alsace 
 is quite the home of German satire. In 1570 he 
 wrote "Der Nachtrabe, oder die Nebelkrah" (the 
 night-raven or mist-crow) against one Jacob Rabe, 
 who had become a pervert to Popery ; and, soon after, 
 some satirical poems in rhyme on the Franciscans and 
 Dominicans (" Der Barf iisser Sekten und Kiittenstreit," 
 and " Von St. Dominici des Predigermonchs und St. 
 Francisci artlichem Leben"), as well as other pieces, 
 some of which have been lost. In 1579 appeared his 
 version of Philip Mamix von Aldegonde's Dutch work, 
 " Beyencorf der roomscher Kerke," under the title of 
 " Bienenkorb des Heiligen romischen Immenschwarms, 
 seiner Hummelszellen oder Himmelszellen, Hurnaus- 
 nester, Bramenschwiirm und Wespengetos," (the Holy 
 Roman bee-hive, with its drone-cells and Heaven-cells, 
 
 o 4 
 
296 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 its hornets' nests, swarms of gadflies and buzzing wasps), 
 a work which went through numerous editions and 
 reprints, and is the best known Fischart ever wrote. 
 At last, in the year 1580, appeared "Das Vierhornige 
 Jesuiterhiitlein," in rhymes, the wittiest and most caustic 
 satire on the Jesuits that has ever been written * 
 
 He soon took, and with far greater success, to com- 
 positions of a more secular nature, using Rabelais as 
 his model ; as, for instance, in his witty satire (written 
 1573) upon the prevailing rage for astrology and horo- 
 scope-casting, &c. Eabelais, on the other hand, had 
 imitated some older German writer. " Aller Praktik 
 Grossmutter " are the first words of the long-winded 
 title of Fischart's book on the above subject. His most 
 important work appeared 1575, being a version of part 
 of " Gargantua and Pantagruel," under the title of 
 " Affenteuerliche. ungeheuerliche Geschichtschrift," 
 which title was altered in the third edition. His 
 comic work, " Podagramisches Trostbiichlein," is also 
 an imitation, but not of Eabelais. It is entirely free 
 from all indelicacy and coarseness. His " Catalogus 
 Catalogorum," in the manner of Rabelais, appeared 
 
 * In 1845 a new edition of Kschart's " Jesuiter-Hutlein" appeared 
 (Leipsig, Engelmann) under the title of " Jesu- Wider, &c." It was a 
 reprint of the edition of 1603, with all its typographical eiTors and 
 uncalled-for alterations. In Scheible's " Kloster," vol. x. p. 907, there is 
 another edition of it after that of 1591. In vol. viii. ibid, is Fischart's 
 " Geschichtklitterung," after the edition of 1617 (whereas the edition 
 of 1582 is the only one that ought to have heen used), and likewise his 
 " Aller Praktik Grossmutter," but this is entirely after the edition of 
 1 623. In the tenth volume are " Flohatz," " Ehezuchtbuchlein," and the 
 " Podagramisches Trostbiichlein," with several other smaller pieces of 
 Pisch art's. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD, 29? 
 
 shortly before his death in 1589. It is an attack upon 
 the monstrous book-learning and rage for books pre- 
 vailing at the time, and in exuberance of wit is thought 
 by Vilmar to surpass the productions of the greatest 
 of French satirists 
 
 The most striking peculiarity of Fischart is his 
 despotic power over the German language. He made 
 it supply him with new expressions, and twisted it 
 about in a most extraordinary manner to suit his pur- 
 poses. In those days, when nobody read more than the 
 title-pages of books, the names he gave to his were 
 cited as curiosities.* It is a mistake, however, to sup- 
 pose that he deals in mere shallow verbal witticisms. 
 There is a depth, a strength, and a point in his mad 
 verbal escapades, which makes the fools of all times 
 tremble. In English it is quite impossible to convey 
 an adequate idea of his marvellous style. It is a series 
 of surprises. After a long facetious preamble, he comes 
 down with the rapidity of a harpoon. His antics are 
 those of Proteus. Now soft and gentle, now imperious 
 and haughty. This moment smiling coaxingly like an 
 infant, the next grinning like a tiger-cat. Now sad 
 and melancholy, now bursting out into loud laughter. 
 Now full of sober earnestness, now teeming with wanton 
 ribaldry. One thing only he has not — tears. To com- 
 pare this coarse, angular, sharp Fischart, a very satirist 
 born, with the dreaming, loving, gentle Jean Paul, as 
 Horn has done, is a mistake. 
 
 * Justus George Sohottel, one of the most important German gram- 
 marians of the seventeenth century, thus cites Fischart's " Gargantua," 
 in his " Arheit von der teutschen Haubtsprache," 1663, p. 379. 
 
 o 5 
 
298 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 rischart mirrors forth with wonderful exactness the 
 contradictions and anomalies of his age : the greatness 
 and the littleness of the then Germany ; the bookish 
 wisdom of the would-be learned and the rude igno- 
 rance of the crowd ; the new world of foreign culture 
 side by side with the traditionary recollections of the 
 country; the pompous circumlocution of the semi- 
 Latin statesman and the wild noisy rattle of the 
 midnight carouse. In him we have a concentration 
 of all the people life of the sixteenth century. He is 
 a very mine of information about their customs and 
 language, love and hatred, joke and jest, proverbs and 
 anecdotes, songs and lays. Like a genuine satirist, he 
 also abounds in local and contemporary allusions, which 
 it is quite impossible to decipher without throwing one's 
 self completely into the ideas of the sixteenth century. 
 
 It will not be advisable, if indeed it were possible, to 
 give here an analysis of his chef-d'oeuvre, " Gargantua." 
 Gargantua, as is well known, was a figure taken by 
 Kabelais from the old French Saga and clothed by him 
 in modern dress, with a view of representing the follies 
 and eccentricities, the deformities and monstrosities, of 
 his time. Fischart follows Rabelais, but makes his 
 Gargantua infinitely more grotesque and satirical. 
 
 The book contains a world of information, serious 
 and comic, upon the sixteenth century. His " Bienen- 
 korb" (bee-hive) is also capital. It takes the Pro- 
 testant side of the question, while Murner's " Luther- 
 ischer Narr" takes the Romanist side, each unsur- 
 passed in its way. Fischart smiles with the cool air 
 of conscious victory; while Murner, less skilful in 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 299 
 
 hla weapons, ruslies on with angry words and furious 
 grimace. 
 
 In the next century all Fischart's works, except his 
 " Bienenkorb," were forgotten, and even hisname was 
 almost unknown; but this arises from his habit of 
 appearing pseudonymously. Thus, in his ecclesiastical 
 satires, he calls himself Jesuwalt Pickhart ; in " Gar- 
 gantua," &c., Elloposkleros ; and in his "Praktik" 
 Winhold Alkofribas Wiistblutus, and so on. In the 
 days of Gottsched and Adelung, who, as Tieck says, 
 had interdicted all joking under a severe penalty, he 
 was utterly despised. The latter called him a mere 
 Hanswiirst (buffoon). It was not till the end of the 
 last century that people again began to value him as 
 he deserved. His works, which exceed fifty in 
 number, have become very scarce. 
 
 A few words, in conclusion, on the numerous col- 
 lections of jests and anecdotes, and also the Yolks- 
 biicher (Folk-books). At the beginning of the sixteenth 
 century, a Latin work by one Bebel appeared, entitled 
 " Facetiae." It is a sort of Joe Miller. Most of the droll 
 conceits in it had been long in circulation among the 
 people, and some of them still are so. Not less popular 
 than the above work was another, which appeared soon 
 after, " Schimpf und Ernst " (joke and earnest). It 
 was from the pen of Johann Pauli, a Franciscan monk, 
 but originally a Jew, who was a disciple of Geiler's, 
 and edited his sermons. This collection, like the other, 
 embodies many of the elements of living popular tra- 
 dition. The following specimens will give a taste of its 
 quality. A man had three daughters, and each daughter 
 
 o 6 
 
300 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 had a lover; but the father's means did not allow of 
 his giving them all dowries at once, so his daughters 
 had to decide in the following way which should marry- 
 first. They were all to wash their hands, and then dry 
 them in the air without a towel. She whose hands 
 were dry first, was to marry first. The youngest, how- 
 ever, with loud cries of " I want no husband, I want 
 no husband," keeps fighting and struggling with her 
 wet hands. In her pretended efforts to resist, her 
 hands dry first, and she was married first. 
 
 The wife of a burgher had committed some crime, 
 for which she was condemned to be exposed publicly 
 in the pillory. Her husband, who was devotedly 
 attached to her, could not bear the thoughts of her 
 being subjected to this degradation ; so he sought out 
 the oflicer of justice, and by dint of a present prevailed 
 on him to let him suffer the punishment instead ; and 
 he endured all the ignominy with the greatest patience. 
 Wot long after his wife quarrelled with him, and was 
 ungrateful enough to upbraid him in public with the 
 words, " I never have stood in the pillory like you." 
 In this simple anecdote we have an admirable picture 
 of low selfishness and diabolical ingratitude. 
 
 There appeared also a number of other books in the 
 comic vein ; some of them in Alsace, e. g., " Die Gar- 
 tengesellschaft," by Trey ; " Der Wegkiirzer," by 
 Montanus ; " Das Eastbiichlein," by Lindner ; " Das 
 Rollwagen-biichlein," byWickram (some of this author's 
 productions are the predecessors of the romance) ; and 
 the " Katzipori." All of these were in vogue till late 
 in the seventeenth century. 
 
THE OLD PEKIOD. 301 
 
 But the best of these jest-books is one entitled 
 " Wendunniut," written In 1562, by Hans Klrchof, 
 Burgrave of Spangenburg. Here there is a happy 
 mixture of the grave with the gay. Many of the stories 
 throw a great deal of light on the history of manners in 
 the sixteenth century. The last of these collections, 
 like the first, is in Latin, and is the work of Otto 
 Melander, schoolmaster at Marburg. It is entitled 
 " Jocoseria." The style is elegant, but the best of the 
 stories are borrowed. What is original is full of scandal 
 and bad wit. This collection is the best known of any. 
 
 A much longer term of existence fell to the lot of 
 the Volksbiicher properly so called, i. e., books of 
 popular stories, which nearly all, without exception, 
 originated in the sixteenth century, and which are still 
 in vogue. Some of the Volksbiicher contain old He- 
 roic Sagas, partly native, e. g., those of the " Horned 
 Sigfrid " and " Duke Ernest ; " partly foreign, e. g. 
 " Tristan," " Octavian," Magellone," " Melusine." 
 But what we are chiefly here concerned with are the 
 Volksbiicher of a funny character. One of the oldest of 
 these, " PfafFe vom Kalenberg," dates from the four- 
 teenth century. It is the history of a parson who is 
 up to all sorts of fun and jokes, some of them not of 
 the most savoury kind. He resembles Pfaff Amis, 
 only that he is not so given to cheating, and is, more- 
 over, a real historical character. His parish was Kalen- 
 berg, near Vienna, and he is said to have been court 
 preacher, if not court fool, to Duke Otto, the Merry, 
 grandson of Rudolf of Hapsburg. Many of the jokes 
 
302 GERMAN LITEKATURE. 
 
 attributed to him, doubtless, belonged to others of his 
 cloth, who, like him, were more fitted for dragoons than 
 parsons.* He had a worthy compeer in Peter Leu, a 
 Suabian, originally a currier's boy, afterwards a priest, 
 who played all sorts of jokes-f The work devoted to 
 Kalenberg was by Philip Frankfurter, that to Leu by 
 Achilles Widman. Both are in rhyme, and were often 
 printed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 
 Some of the anecdotes were still in vogue long after. 
 For instance, one hot summer day, Kalenberg sum- 
 mons all his parishioners to see him fly from the top of 
 his church steeple over the Danube. They duly re- 
 spond to the summons, and wait in the heat for many 
 hours, assuaging their thirst with the priest's bad wine, 
 which they pay for in good coin. Here, in fact, lay 
 the joke. At length, when he is on the point, appa- 
 rently, of taking flight, he asks the peasants if they had 
 ever seen a person fly. No, say they, such a thing 
 was never heard of. " Quite so," said Kalenberg, 
 " neither shall I. Go home and say you have all been 
 here." Again, Peter Leu divides his sermon into three 
 
 * Philip Prankfiirter's "Pfaffe Ton Kalenberg" appeared in print 
 1550, 1582, 1596, and frequently till 1620. But the first editions must 
 belong to the beginning of the sixteenth or end of the fifteenth century. 
 It is to be found in a modernised shape in Hagen's " Narrenbuch," 1811, 
 p. 269. He is often cited proverbially by the writers of the sixteenth 
 century, Luther among the number. 
 
 _J- The history of Peter Leu, printed in 1560, and in later editions, 
 generally appended to " Kalenberg," is to be found in a modern shape 
 in Hagen's " Narrenbuch," p. 353. Plogel, in his " History of Court 
 Fools," drew attention to both their works, as throwing light on the 
 history of manners. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 303 
 
 parts. "The first part you cannot understand, the 
 second part I cannot, the third neither you nor I." 
 
 At the beginning of the era now treated of, ap- 
 peared the famous book called " Eulenspiegel."* 
 
 Many of Till Eulenspiegel's best jokes had been 
 played before by Priest Amis, Nithart, the Minne- 
 singer, Kalenberg, and others. Again, many of them 
 are the traditionary jokes of various trades, and can 
 only be rightly appreciated as such. It is, in fact, these 
 jokes, which were not the result of invention, but 
 which really occurred to the journeyman in his trade, 
 that give to the book its never-failing popularity and 
 indisputable comic value. It is possible that there was 
 some more than usually facetious travelling artizan in 
 
 * SeeGbrre's "Die deutschen Volksbiicher," 1807, who -well describes 
 the poetic influence of these old productions of the Volksage. 
 
 The book of " Till Eulenspiegel" was edited, with notes, by Lappen- 
 berg, 1854, not to mention the many renovations of it, the best of which 
 is that by Simrock. Lappenberg entitles it, "Dr. Thomas Murner's 
 Eulenspiegel," but the assumption that it was written by Murner only 
 rests on the untrustworthy notice of an anonymous pamphlet of the 
 sixteenth century. Moreover, the style of the preface, let alone of the 
 book itself, is not that of Murner. Besides, the text of the oldest 
 edition, 1519, (said to have been edited by Murner,) gives evidence of 
 having been originally composed in Flatt Deutsch, e. g. in the Low- 
 German expression for mother. Indeed, Lappenberg (p. 347) himself 
 admits the probability of such a Piatt Deutsch version of it of the year 
 1483 (compare Lessing's works, xi. 492), and, in that case, the assump- 
 tion that Murner was the author at once falls to the ground. The editions 
 of " Eulenspiegel" are very numerous. Kschart turned it into rhyme, 
 probably in 1570. There are extant translations of it into Dutch, 
 French, English, and Danish, of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 
 Grasse's assertion ("Lehrbuch der allg. Lit. Gesch." ii. 2, 1020), that 
 the oldest Dutch translation dates from the year 1495, is devoid of proof. 
 Many of the tricks played in "Eulenspiegel" are very disgusting, to 
 the great detriment of the comic element. 
 
304 GEEMAN LITEEATTJEE. 
 
 the north of Grermany, on whom many of the old jokes 
 long current throughout the land were fathered, and 
 who may, perhaps, have himself repeated them, inten- 
 tionally or unintentionally. In process of time this 
 might, possibly lead to a life of him being written, in 
 which were embodied all the various scattered stories. 
 It may be that his name was Till, and that he was buried 
 at MoUen, in Mecklenburg, in 1350. Indeed, not so 
 many years ago, a lime-tree stood on his supposed grave, 
 into which every travelling journeyman made a point of 
 hammering a nail. He could not, however, have been 
 called Eulenspiegel, for this word refers to a proverb 
 of the sixteenth century : " Der Mensch erkennt seine 
 Fehler eben so wenig wie eine Affe oder cine Eule, die 
 in den Spiegel sehen, ihre eigene Hasslichkeit erken- 
 nen " (a man is no more aware of his own faults, than 
 is an ape or an owl that looks into a mirror aware of 
 its own ugliness). Besides, although the book Eulen- 
 spiegel was In print at the end of the fifteenth century, 
 yet in South Germany the name was almost entirely 
 unknown in the middle of the sixteenth ; the name 
 " Bochart" being used instead.* It was only till 
 after this time that the name " Eulenspiegel" became 
 general, and absorbed all former fools and names of 
 fools. 
 
 The same may be predicated of the " Schildbiirger," 
 otherwise " Lalenbuch." For a long time the sayings 
 and doings of the burghers and magistrates of small, out- 
 of-the-way places, their coxcombry, their pretentious- 
 
 * See Setastian Frank, " Guldin Arch." 1558, fol. Bl. 267a ; Kirchhof, 
 « Wendunmut," JSTos. 410, 411. 
 
THE OLD PERIOD. 305 
 
 ness, and stupidity, were the butt of popular ridicule. 
 The anecdotes about these, however, were not the 
 result of invention, but were actual facts. Many of 
 the most important features ofthese are to be found in 
 poems of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It 
 was not till the end of the sixteenth century that they 
 were collected*, and fastened on the town of Schilda — 
 not so exclusively, however, as the travelling jokes on 
 Eulenspiegel, for every county of Germany can boast ot 
 its Abdera, its abode of pompous fatuity. In Bavaria 
 there is Weilheim ; in Brunswick, Scheppenstedt : 
 Hessia has its Schwarzenborn. 
 
 Again, the legend of Dr. Faust was current from the 
 beginning of the sixteenth century, while the well- 
 known Volksbuch was written in the second half of the 
 sixteenth.! 
 
 There is no doubt that there really did exist one 
 Johann Faust, who dealt in magic, and played all sorts 
 
 * A few features of these gentry are to be found as early as the thir- 
 teenth century, e. g. in Freidank's " Bescheidenheit," in Seinfrid von 
 Braunschweig. In the sixteenth century they appear in Behel, B. Waldis, 
 Frischlin, &c., without being fixed on any particular town. The book 
 "Von den Schildbiirgem" (Lalenbuch) appeared first in 1598. It is 
 modernized in Hagen's " Narrenbuch," 1811, pp. 1-214,448-486. Com- 
 pare "Leipziger Lit. Z." 1812, No. 161. 
 
 t Raumer, "Histor. Tasehenbuch," 5 Jargang, p. 125. Taust was seen 
 by the Abbot Tritheim in the year 1506 at Gelnhausen; by Konrad 
 Mutius Eufus, 1513, at Erfurt. They call him a gyrovagus, battologns, 
 circumcellio, merus ostentator, and fatuus. The story of Faust was 
 printed first at Frankfort, 1588; with notes, by Widman, in 1599; and 
 with further additions by Pfizer, in 1674. Widman's version, without 
 his own and Pfizer's notes, was published at Eeutlingen, 1834. Com- 
 pare Hagen, " Ueber die altesten Darstellungen der Faust-sage," 1844 ; 
 also the books of Diintzer, Eeichlin-Meldegg, and Peter, 
 
306 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 of extraordinary pranks. He lived in the first thirty 
 years of the sixteenth century, and, according to the 
 best accounts, was a native of South Germany — it is 
 said of Kundlingen, in Suabia. Many of the things, 
 however, which are attributed to him, were also as- 
 cribed to other personages. For instance, the black 
 dog, under which the Devil is disguised, is also coupled 
 with the name of Cornelius Agrippa, a contemporary of 
 Faust, and also with that of Pope Sylvester II. So the 
 Winter-garden may be traced back to Albertus Magnus. 
 And just as " EiUenspiegel " was the embodiment of all 
 the travelling handicraftsmen's jokes, and the " Schild- 
 biirger" of the stupidities of municipal functionaries, so 
 " Faust " was the hero of every thing that was mar- 
 vellous and superstitious. 
 
 Another Saga, that of the " "Wandering Jew " 
 (Ewiger Jude), can be traced back far into the thir- 
 teenth century. It does not, like the preceding ones, 
 belong to Germany exclusively, though it was in Ger- 
 many that it was especially developed, becoming con- 
 nected in the sixteenth century with a real personage, 
 who made his appearance in Hamburg and other parts 
 of North Germany.* 
 
 This short allusion to the German Volksbiicher must 
 suffice. "We will only further mention the tale of 
 " Fortunatus," which perhaps originated in Bretagne ; 
 
 * Grasse, "Die Sage vom Ewigeu Juden," 1844. Matthew of Paris, 
 the English chronicler in the first half of the thirteenth century, men- 
 tions the legend, then current, of an Armenian who professed to have 
 seen the Jew Kartaphilus, who was afterwards baptized, and called 
 Joseph. The story of the Wauderiug Jew, who appeared in Hamburg 
 in 1547, was printed in Germany in 1602, and frequently afterwards. 
 
THE OLD PEEIOD. 307 
 
 nay, may have possibly belonged to the ancient Ger- 
 man mythology ; also, the odd tale of " Finkenritter," 
 which gives a capital notion of the inordinate addiction 
 to lying of the itinerants of the sixteenth century ; 
 and whether the work of Fischart or of some older 
 author,* is, at all events, the precursor of " Captain 
 Eodomond" and " Sohelmufski"in the seventeenth, and 
 of " Munchhausen " in the eighteenth century. 
 
 After all, these productions of the sixteenth century, 
 be they never so light and fanciful, have survived 
 the heavy compositions of the succeeding generation. 
 While the stilted trash of the seventeenth and begin- 
 ning of the eighteenth century is now obsolete, " Fjulen- 
 spiegel," the " Schildbiirger," and " Faust " have re- 
 mained in everybody's mouth, and, trifles as they are, 
 afford no little gratification, not the least of which, per- 
 haps, consists in the recollection that they are the 
 bequests of an age when Germany was still German. 
 
 From the above we have seen that in these still lioger- 
 ing Volksagas there lay abundance of poetical material, 
 hidden, it is true, and overlaid by rubbish, but which 
 it only wanted a Klinger, a Schlegel, a Tieck, and a 
 Goethe to bring to the light of day, and elaborate into 
 something choice and beautiful. Even now, much of 
 this old material is still unworked. Wieland's " Ab- 
 
 * The little work called " Finkenritter,'' which is still current as a 
 Folk-hook, was printed first at Strashurg between 1559 and 1570. If, 
 as Meusebach is said to have assumed, Fischart did write it, it must have 
 been one of his earliest works ; the fable, however, was, without doubt, 
 in existence before. As early as 1571, at a time when Fischart had 
 scarcely come out as an author, "Finkenritter" is mentioned quite pro- 
 verbially by J. Nass, in his "Von Fratris Joannis Naseu Esel," Bl. 54 a. 
 
308 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 derites" shows what could he made of the Schild- 
 hlirgers. What a pity that his tale is laid in Greece 
 instead of in Germany ! 
 
 A few observations here, in conclusion, on the lan- 
 guage of Luther. It is the new High German, a com- 
 pound of the hard popular dialect of the South of Ger- 
 many and the softer speech of the North ; and it is in this 
 style, so pithy, compact, and forcible, that the intellect 
 of Germany still professes to write. All agree that his 
 translation of the Bible is a re-creation of the German 
 language ; and this great result is due to the manner in 
 which he set about the task. He devoted himself, body 
 and soul, to his work, his whole being absorbed in the 
 spirit of Revelation. It was with an intense horror of 
 sin, and heartfelt experience of the comforts of the 
 Gospel, that he translated the Bible ; and therefore it 
 is that, as that book transformed and ruled the world, 
 so this translation of it transformed and ruled the Ger- 
 man language. 
 
 Only one branch of prose kept aloof from that of 
 Luther. This was that of the old mystic school, 
 which was now on the point of dissolution. Its repre- 
 sentatives, such as Kaspar Schwenkfeld and Sebastian 
 Frank, declared him to be the founder of a new 
 papacy, and continuing in their old groove of tranquil 
 subjectiveness and dreamy contemplation, adhered 
 tenaciously to the hereditary smoothness of the mystic 
 style. Frank's productions are first rate in their way. 
 His historical and theological writings, especially his 
 paradoxes, are quite a pattern of philosophic style, 
 soft, smooth, and pliant in the extreme. No good 
 
THE OLD PEETOD. 309 
 
 account of this remarkable man has yet appeared. He 
 was the author of the first history of the world in 
 the German language, and also wrote a collection of 
 proverbs, with ingenious commentaries thereon.* Agri- 
 cola of Eisleben had preceded him with a similar work ;t 
 while, at the end of the century, Eucharius Eyering 
 followed in the same line. These proverb-collectors 
 of this period supply the place of the old gnomic poets, 
 — of a Welscher Gast, a Freidank, and a Renner. 
 But it is time to leave this part of our subject. 
 
 * Sebastian Prank's " Sprichworter " appeared first at Frankfort in 
 1541, then at the same place in 1554, 1565, and often. In the Zurich 
 edition of 1545 the arrangement and language are altered for the worse. 
 Prank's historical works are, the "Zeitbuch und Geschichtsbibel," 1531, 
 folio, (of which many editions stiU exist,) " Weltbuch, Spiegel und 
 Bildniss des ganzen Erdbodens," 1534, and "Teutscher Nation Chro- 
 nik," folio. The latter work is not much more than a compilation. Of 
 his theological works, the most remarkable are his "Paradoxa," 1533, 
 and his additions to his translation of Erasmus' " Moriae Encomium," 
 his " Giildin Arch,'' and " Verbiitsehiertes Buch." 
 
 f Agricola's " Sprichworter," appeared first at Magdeburg, 1528, in 
 the Low German dialect (comp. Weigand in the Allg. Kirchenz., 1841, 
 No. 167), then, in 1529, in High German. The later editions are much 
 enlarged, so that the last, that of 1592, contains 749 proverbs. 
 
310 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 THE NEW PERIOD. 
 
 This second great division of the history of German 
 literature commences with Martin Opitz and the year 
 1624. Its peculiar characteristic is that it endeavours 
 to amalgamate foreign poetic elements with those which 
 are essentially German. Rejecting the old traditions, 
 and deserting the path that the people had followed for 
 eight centuries, it bids a formal adieu to the past. 
 Of all the early living sources of poetic inspiration 
 nothing remains. The old life of the people is as much 
 forgotten and lost as if it had never been. A loss 
 never to be repaired, not even by the highest excellen- 
 cies at which German poetry arrived by following 
 another path. The old edifice was broken down, but 
 fortunately there was strength sufficient in the German 
 intellect to erect a new one, not indeed such as the old 
 one was, rearing itself majestically on the lofty hill 
 in the midst of the forest, but one of a different sort, 
 more inhabitable, more accessible, placed on the great 
 highway of European intercourse. 
 
 But before this consummation was arrived at, a time 
 of ignoble lethargy and disreputable bondage inter- 
 vened. Tor a full century, from 1624 to 1720 (1730), 
 foreign elements ruled triumphant, and German poetry 
 lay prostrate. A turn for the better ensued from 1720 
 to about 1750. After this an improved state of things 
 
THE NEW PEKIOD, 311 
 
 succeeded, and from 1750 to 1832, we may reckon as 
 the second classical period of German literature. 
 
 It was in 1680 that what was left of German poetry 
 gradually died out. First one voice and then another 
 became dumb. Instead of the Volkslied (popular lay), 
 all free, fresh, and natural, we have a spiritless, artificial 
 counterfeit, tricked out with all sorts of tasteless pedan- 
 tries, which has been called Gesellschaftslied (society- 
 lay) by Hoffman of Fallersleben. At last, at the close 
 of the century, the victory of classic philology, learned 
 theology, and jurisprudence, over everything that could 
 be called German, was complete. An irreconcileable 
 rupture ensued between learned and unlearned. On 
 the one side were a set of pedants buried in their books, 
 and having no sympathy with national life ; on the 
 other side were masses without knowledge, without 
 aspirations. The so-called Gelehrte and GebUdete 
 (learned and polished folks) looked with contempt on 
 everything belonging to the people, their language, 
 their poetry, their very faith, their ideas, their whole 
 life. The people in turn became suspicious and indif- 
 ferent to everything that appertained to their learned 
 contemners. They could not understand the language 
 current among their superiors ; nay, the very language 
 of the parson in the pulpit became unintelligible to 
 them. How could it be otherwise, when the higher 
 classes claimed as their exclusive prerogative every- 
 thing belonging to the mind and the intellect ? For 
 two centuries this schism continued in full force. Even 
 the Reformation, which had prevented the worst evil 
 of all,- the exclusion of the masses from that common 
 
312 GEEMAN LITEEATDEE. 
 
 fountain of belief, the Biblcj in its further development 
 widened the existing breach, and undid much of the 
 previous good it had done, by entering the arena of 
 dogmatic strife. But what did the most harm of all 
 was the influence which countries to the south and west 
 of Germany, but France especially, began to exercise 
 upon German intellect and German culture. German 
 simplicity of manners, nay, the very language itself, 
 disappeared from the court and from the castles of the 
 nobility. The higher literati, the public officials, even 
 the richer burghers, ceased to speak their mother 
 tongue. Nothing would do but a slavish imitation of 
 French manners and French language. The a-la-mode 
 age, as the writers of that day call it, had fairly set in. 
 Absurd affectations of expression, perukes, etiquette, 
 hypocrisy, ceremoniousness, and a love of the grandiose 
 — such were the Frenchified tastes of Germany from the 
 middle of the seventeenth to the middle of the eigh- 
 teenth century. The result of this was that it became 
 the most ridiculous, as well as the most unhappy, 
 nation in Europe. And, as might be expected, this 
 state of affairs was sharply impressed upon the poetry 
 of the time. The ultimate consequence of this triumph 
 of erudition, and of French fashions, was an extraordi- 
 nary barrenness in poetical production. For a period 
 of thirty years, from 1590 to 1620, not a poem worth 
 mentioning appeared. 
 
 Now, had the love of classical philology prevailing 
 in the sixteenth century moved the verse-writers of the 
 seventeenth century to go to the fountain-head, and 
 take for their models the great works of Greece and 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 313 
 
 Rome, the seventeenth century would not have been 
 what it is, the most melancholy epoch in the his- 
 tory of German literature. But, instead of this, 
 they only imitated imitations of the originals. The 
 worst feature in the Latin poetry of the sixteenth 
 century had been that it was based on the later 
 Latin poets, and not on those of the best age ; while 
 from the Greeks it borrowed but little of its in- 
 spiration. And it was these very Latin poems of the 
 sixteenth century, that the classical poets of the seven- 
 teenth took as their model. The trashy spick-and-span 
 Latin and Dutch versification of a Daniel Heinsius was 
 the much admired ideal of an Opitz, a Tscherning, and 
 a Gryphius. It is lamentable to see how one German 
 verse-maker in these days complimented another as 
 a German Virgil, a very TibuUus, Horace, or Proper- 
 tius; although there were not wanting instances of 
 similar absurd flattery in the sixteenth century. From 
 this day forward it was on the field of learning that 
 German poetry exhibited its prowess. What a man 
 had experienced himself, felt in his own heart, seen 
 with his own eyes, such was not the substance of his 
 poems ; but he only described what he had learned, what 
 he had read. Eoman mythology, too, was the means 
 now selected to give a particular colouring and bril- 
 liancy to the German muse ; and the verse writers 
 plumed themselves not a little on its introduction. If 
 the muse was passionless, fancy kme, the verse lag- 
 gard and rhymeless, a Jupiter and Juno were brought 
 to give aid; Minerva and Apollo were also there; the 
 modest Cynthia and Yenus with Cupid formed part of 
 
314! GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 the poetical machinery. People fancied that poets 
 could be made, like philologers, by time and practice ; 
 that, by attention to rules, one poet might win laurels 
 as well as another. Certain implements of trade must, 
 of course, be at hand. Mythology, for^ instance ; me- 
 thods of expression, borrowed from Latin and French 
 poetry ; a stock of choice epithets, tropes, and meta- 
 phors : provided with these, one might make Tcrses 
 like shoes, or poems like coats. As for epics, one 
 might, with perseverance, construct one as good as 
 those of Homer : better too. Were not there plenty of 
 faults in his ? Could not the learned writers of these 
 modern days achieve something much more -perfect ? 
 
 It is only on these grounds that one can at all under- 
 stand the vast number of poetasters of the seventeenth 
 century, who, without possessing any special call for the 
 art, looked upon themselves as the upholders of the poetic 
 genius of Grermany. We alluded above to the choice 
 epithets which now came into vogue. ] Now through all 
 its vicissitudes German poetry had never lost sight of 
 the necessity of using simple and appropriate epithets. 
 The green grass, the green wood, the wild wood, the 
 dark night, were hitherto considered as sufficiently 
 poetical expressions. The German poetry of the 
 seventeenth century looked upon all this as rude and 
 out of date. More attractive epithets must be in- 
 vented, something sharper and more telling;* and so 
 an expression like " dark evening," must be discarded. 
 "Brown evening," that was the right phrase. \ And 
 
 * See Hofmannwaldau, in the preface to his took, " Deutsche Ueber- 
 setzungen und Gedichte," Breslau, 1679. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 315 
 
 accordingly " brown evening " ran frona mouth to 
 mouth, as something perfectly charming, a marvel of 
 poetic invention, and throughout the seventeenth cen- 
 tury the, evening continued to be " brown, "^j In like 
 manner /Qgitz's poems are full of " salted tears," 
 " glassy waters," "cold north-stars," " pale cares," &c. 
 With him the world is no longer "world," but "a 
 round," "a great round," "a beautiful round," "a 
 desert round." jHand is no longer "hand," but "fist;" 
 the sea "blue salt." And yet Opitz is the most 
 moderate of them aU. Lohenstein and his school 
 ran quite epithet-mad. Indeed he has become a pro- 
 verb of tumidity and bombast. Sound, not sense, was 
 the motto of poetry-writers. We may quote the well- 
 known lines of Opitz. 
 
 "Die Lerche schreit auch: Dir, Dir, lieben Gott allein 
 Singt alle Welt ; Dir, Dir, Dir, -will ich dankbar sein." 
 
 " Tlie lark cries too: Thee, Thee, good God alone 
 Sings all the world ; to Thee, Thee, Thee, will I be grateftiL" 
 
 The chief merit of Opitz consists in his introduction 
 of a new metrical system into Germany. This refers 
 principally to narrative and not to lyric poetry. Every- 
 body felt that an improvement was necessary, but 
 nothing was done till he wrote a small volume in 1624, 
 " Die deutsche Poeterei," on the appearance of which 
 a perfect revolution took place. The doctrine herein 
 propounded is, that in German verse, arsis and thesis 
 must as regularly alternate as in antique trochaic 
 and iambic verse long and short syllables alternate 
 with each other. As for dactyls, Opitz discarded 
 
 F 2 
 
316, GERMAN LITEBATUKE. 
 
 them as unfitted for German poetry.' Notwithstanding 
 which, these feet, as well as amphibrachs, anapsests, 
 creticsj were before long introduced, with all the 
 different kinds of ancient metre. 
 
 With regard to the change inaugurated by Opitz, 
 there is no doubt that the short pairs of rhymes (the 
 form of the old poetic narrative) was now become 
 utterly obsolete. In fact, it would only suit a pliant 
 and musical tongue, such as was the Middle High- 
 German. In New High-German it looked hard and 
 inflexible. The tongue had altered, and the verse must 
 necessarily be altered also, to bring the one into 
 harmony with the other. The old short rhyme pairs 
 were already, in the seventeenth century, pronounced 
 nothing but doggerels. Unfortunately, however, the 
 substitute hit upon by Opitz was, if possible, a change 
 for the worse. This was the Alexandrine, borrowed 
 from the Erench, and which the Germans praised to 
 the skies as the ne plus ultra of German versification. 
 This delusion prevailed down to the time of Lessing ; 
 and very lately Elickert and FreUigrath have both put 
 forward the pretensions of the " Wiisten-E,oss von Alex- 
 andria" (the desert-steed of Alexandria). Another 
 change made by Opitz was putting the epithet between 
 the article and substantive. \ Instead of " das Miindlein 
 rot, die Handlein weiss," he would write, " das rote 
 Miindlein," &c. 
 
 We must not omit to mention here, as a remarkable 
 feature of those times, the foundation of societies pro- 
 fessedly for the improvement of the German language 
 and poetry. But they were mere silly imitations of 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 317 
 
 similar societies in Italy, e. g., the " Arcadians " at 
 Rome, the " Sleepers," at Genoa, and the " Delia 
 Crusca," at Florence, which was perhaps the most 
 absurd of all : with many others, aU of them scenes of 
 nonsense and pompous buffoonery. On the 24th of 
 August, 1617, the " Eruchtbrlngende GeseUschaft" 
 (" Fruit-bearing Society ") was founded at "Weimar, in 
 the presence of three Dukes of Saxony and a host of 
 other princes and nobles.* This society was in every 
 respect worthy of its illustrious prototypes. Each 
 member had as his symbol some plant or product of a 
 plant, e.g., one had a roll of white bread, with the device, 
 " Nothing better." It is perhaps needless to observe, 
 that the "fruit" produced by this august society was 
 nil. Similar societies were founded at Strasburg and 
 in Lower Saxony ; an " Order of the swan" in Hol- 
 stein ; at Nuremberg, " The crowned order of flowers,"' 
 which still exists. Such were the productions of those 
 unfortunate times; — form without substance — husk 
 without kernel — socially, politically, and poetically. 
 The only sounds of true poetry at aU audible are the 
 Evangelical Church Lays of Gerhard, and a few others. 
 But we must enter into some particulars. 
 
 * See Hille, "Der Teutsohe PalmenTjaiiin," 1647, and Ludwig, Prince 
 of Anhalt, " Der Fruchtbrmgenden Gesellsohait Namen," &c., Frank- 
 fort, 1648. From these two works arose the chief work on the Society, 
 viz. George Neumark's (under his social name, " der Sprossende," " the 
 Sprouter,") "Der neu-sprossende deutsche Palm-baum," &c., Nurem- 
 berg, 1673. The most recent account of the Society is Barthold's 
 " Geschichte d. F. Gesell.," 1848. 
 
 p 3 
 
318 german liteeatuee. 
 
 Schools. 
 
 It will be most convenient to divide the verse writers 
 into schools. Such were the first Silesian School, with 
 Opitz at its head. The school of Konigsberg ; that 
 of Nuremberg ; * Eist's School, in Holstein ; f and that 
 of Philip von Zesen. In the last third of the century 
 we have the second Silesian School, descended from 
 •Opitz; and the poetry of common-place, under the 
 patronage of Christian Weise. In this description the 
 prose writings will be included, save and except the 
 Romance. 
 
 As far back as the year 1620, Silesia, which was 
 less disturbed than the rest of Germany by the troubles 
 of the times, exhibited not a few traces of poetical 
 talent. This was, however, all in the classical line, 
 which had flourished there since the days of Trotzendorf. 
 
 P opular p oetry was not at home in that region. 
 Here, then, in this classic soil, it was that " purity of 
 German language, verse and rhyme," grew under the 
 auspices of Martin Opitz. flOpitz had nothing of the 
 inventive genius about him. He was a man of ordinary 
 talent, who had a knack of taking the right cue and 
 sailing with the popular gale, whichever way it blew. 
 "Weak, good-tempered, and vain, in a strong age he 
 
 * Johann Herdegen (Amarantes), "Historische Nachricht von des 
 Hirten- und Blumen-Ordens," &c., Nuremberg, 1744. 
 
 f One of them was Andreas Godeke, who wrote " Zimbrisehe Kriegs 
 und Siegeslieder," Hamburg, 1667. iVr an account of the Order of the 
 Swan, see Konrad von Hbyelen, " Deutscher Zimber-Swan," Lubeck, 
 1666-67; Otto Schulz, "Die deutschen Sprachgesellschaften des 17 
 Jahrhunderts," Berlin, 1824. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 319 
 
 -would have been despised ; hut in times of weakness he 
 was the very man to thrive. \ Gervinus and Hoffmann 
 von Fallersleben have been very severe upon him in 
 their histories of German literature.* The secret of 
 his popularity was, that he was all things to all men. 
 At one and the same time he was translating for 
 the Burgrave of Dohna, a Roman Catholic work, 
 " Becanus," the object of which was to make papists 
 of the people of Silesia ; and Grotius' work " De 
 Veritate," for the town-council of Breslau, the bitter 
 opponents of the Burgrave. Opitz made friends of 
 everybody : of the Dukes of Silesia, the Danish princes, 
 the Emperor Ferdinand 11., the King of Poland, and 
 later of Oxenstiern. He was ready to toady — not the 
 greatest of the dead, but the very smallest of the 
 living. This will partly explain why the author of such 
 middling poems, — which, compared with many of the 
 sixteenth century, dwindle into insignificance — was . 
 elevated into a " Pindar, a Homer, and a Maro," by 
 his contemporaries. What really did in part entitle 
 him to his celebrity was, not the substance, but the 
 masterly^^r22i_©f his compositions. He it was who 
 first restored German poetry to its natural flow, made 
 it run smoothly, and in unison with the state of the 
 language, as well as lightly and harmoniously, as of 
 yore. But in saying that he is a master of form, pretty 
 nearly all has been said in his favour that he deserves. 
 On the other hand, his demerits are the demerits 
 common to all the writers of his time. He is all fiction 
 
 * Gervinus, " Gescliichte der poet. Nationalliteratur," iii. 213; Hoff- 
 mann, "Politische Gedichte," &c., 1843, p. 217. 
 
 p 4 
 
320 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 from beginning to end, and he it is that gives the tone 
 to all the poetry of Germany till the days of Lessing 
 and EHopstock. The feelings and sentiments are facti- 
 tious, only exist upon paper, not in the heart of the 
 poet. The disguise is transparent. It is all mere fine 
 phrases, which too frequently sink into the weak, the 
 trivia], and the mean. We have the screwed-up fancies 
 of a pedant, who, when he emerges from the four walls 
 of his study, is quite beside himself at the sight of a 
 calf feeding on the meadow. We have the compli- 
 ments of the smooth courtier, the set speeches of a half 
 Christian — meve lip-talk without heart. He is the 
 great authority in all sorts of occasional pieces, whe- 
 ther of a congratulatory or condoling character, which 
 abounded in the seventeenth century to a sickening 
 degree. His " ICnQgtgedichte," " consolatory poems," 
 written during the reverses of war, are the oldest and 
 ,far the best of his verse compositions. They did not 
 come to light, it is true, till 1633, i. e. about twelve years 
 after they were written. But the reason is, that they 
 were of a strong Prote^ant tinge, and the author 
 wished to earn his laurels first from the Emperor Fer- 
 dinand II. and Count Dohna. They are often very 
 learned, it is true, and frequently look like translations 
 from the Latin ; but of all his descriptive pieces, they 
 only have any truth in them. Next after these we may 
 place several of his lyric pieces. His " Zlatna," on 
 tranquillity of mind, is much inferior ; as likewise his 
 " Vielguet," on true happiness ; while his " Vesuvius" 
 is the most tedious descriptive poem imaginable. His 
 "Daphne," a pastoral, is a pitiful affair; while his 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 321 
 
 many Biblical imitations are dry and meagre. The 
 largest space in his works is occupied by his transla- 
 tions, e.g. of the "Antigone" of Sophocles, Seneca's 
 " Trojan Women," and from the French and Dutch. 
 His translations are open to less animadversion than his 
 other pieces. The "Antigone" is still quite readable. 
 His " Annolied" is mentioned elsewhere.* 
 
 Passing over Buchner and a host of others, we next 
 come to Paul Flemming, who, though no Silesian, 
 wrote more than anybody in the spirit and form of 
 Opitz. A hymn of his, " In alien meinen Thaten lass 
 ich den Hochsten raten," is still sung in the churches 
 of Germany. But he is most known as a lyrist, — an 
 inferior one, it is true, — but yet infinitely truer than 
 Opitz and his nuijierous crew. His song, " "Wie er 
 woUe geklisset sein," is rather celebrated, although 
 Gervinus has shown that another ode of his, on the 
 marriage of one Schnorkel, (the first in the third book 
 
 * Martin Opitz -was bom 23d December. 1597, at Bunzlau, and wrote 
 verses in 1619, while still a student at Heidelberg. Afterwards he joined 
 with D. Heiusius at Leyden. !From 1622-1624 he was teacher of 
 philosophy at Weissenburg, in Transylvania, and it is to his residence 
 there that we owe his poem of " Zlatna." Trom 1626 he was secretary 
 to the Burgrave of Dohna, and ennobled by the Emperor in 1 629, under 
 the title of " Opitz von Boberfeld." In 1636 he was made secretary and 
 historiograph of the kingdom of Poland, and died of the plague at 
 Danzig, 20th August, 1639. The first edition of his poems appeared at 
 Strasburg in 1624, edited by Zinkgref. The first edition, superintended 
 by himself, at Breslau, 1625, and two others, Breslau, 1629 and 1637-38. 
 An important edition is that which appeared after his death, Danzig, 
 1 641. The most complete of the late editions is Breslau, 1690, but very 
 incorrect. The first part of an edition by Bodmer and Breitinger 
 appeared in 1745. Another edition is that of Triller, Frankfort, 1746. 
 A complete critical edition is still wanting. 
 
 F 5 
 
322 GERMAN LITEEATUEB. 
 
 of his odesj) Is of much higher merit. One thing at 
 least can be said in his praise, viz., that there is more 
 poetry and life, and less of the mechanical, in his 
 occasional pieces than in those of Opitz and most of 
 his followers. His poems, for instance, on Germany, 
 and on his step-mother, are really good. His sonnet to 
 himself, beginning " Sei dennoch unverzagt gib dennoch 
 unverloren," is excellent ; while his own epitaph, written 
 three days before his death, in the thirty-first year of his 
 age at Hamburg, half a year after the death of Opitz, 
 betrays somewhat of the common vanity of the time, 
 but evinces withal no little poetical power.* 
 
 Andreas Gryphius is the third leader of this school, 
 which died out with him in 1664, As a lyrist he is 
 little behind Flemming. Instead of depicting the cheer- 
 ful side of life, like Flemming, he selects the earnest 
 side of it. This feature of his composition is exem- 
 plified in the lay " Die Herrlichkeit der Erden muss 
 Staub und Asche werden," which is still sung in German 
 churches. His " Kirchof-Gedanken," ("Church-yard 
 Thoughts,") a poem in fifty strophes, is also celebrated. 
 The tendency observable in it to exaggerated descrip- 
 tion, as well as the indulgence in unnatural exclama- 
 tions, and artificial and bombastic expressions, are still 
 more glaring in his tragedies. He has been called the 
 Father of German dramatic poetry. In some respects 
 this may be true. He determined the direction of 
 
 * Flemming was bom 5th October, 1 609, at Hartenstein, in the Vogt- 
 land, and went as physician with the embassy of the Duke of Gottorp 
 to Persia in 1634, returning in 1639 ; he died at Hamburg, 7th April, 
 1640. His poems were first published at Jena, 1642; the best known 
 is the enlarged edition of Merseburg, 1685. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 323 
 
 German tragedy towards foreign and modern subjects, 
 and ordered the description according to the rules of 
 art. He was the first to introduce order and connexion 
 of eventSj and gave an individuality to the different 
 characters. But it would be an error to say that 
 Gryphius took the right and true path, or that he was 
 the first to awaken the dramatic consciousness of the 
 nation. 
 
 His tragedies are for the most part on very out-of- 
 the-way subjects, e. g., " Leo the Armenian," the By- 
 zantine Emperor who was murdered at the Christmas 
 festival in the year 820. This is one of his best. It 
 was written in 1646, and re-modelled 1661. Another 
 is styled " Papinianus," who was executed by Caracalla. 
 Both these pieces are deficient in incident, but rich 
 in sententious passages and rhetorical exclamations. 
 **Karl Stuart," on the trial and death of Charles I., is 
 more like a rhetorical exercise than anything else. Little 
 can be said in praise of " Katharlna von Georgien," the 
 subject of which is taken from Chardin's " Voyages en 
 Perse." " Cardenio und Celinde " is borrowed from 
 an Italian novel. It is one of his weakest pieces. All 
 these plays are divided into scenes, just as at present, 
 besides which they are provided with a chorus. In 
 " Karl Stuart " the chorus is represented by the ghosts 
 of murdered English kings. In " Katharina," in addi- 
 tion to the ghosts of murdered people, we have the 
 Virtues, Death, and Love. In " Leo " the chorus 
 consists of priests and maidens. Ghosts, however, are 
 introduced, who do not belong to the chorus. Thus, 
 in " Leo," we have the ghost of the Patriarch of Jeru- 
 
 V 6 
 
324 GERMAN LITEEATUBE. 
 
 salem ; and, in " Katharina," Eternity is summoned 
 from Heaven to speak the prologue. In comedy, 
 Gryphius achieved much better things. His two 
 original prose comedies, " Peter Squenz " and " Hor- 
 ribilicribrifax," are excellent in their way. They are, 
 both of them, a great advance upon the old Shrove-tide 
 farces. The first of these pieces is nearly allied with 
 the well-known episode in Shakespeare's " Midsummer 
 Night's Dream." Early in the seventeenth century 
 this interlude was introduced by Daniel Schwenter on 
 the German stage, in the shape given it by the Eng- 
 lishman Cox. From this, as Gryphius himself states, 
 he caught the idea, but the details are his own. A set 
 of bungling would-be comedians have the audacity to 
 try their powers in learned mythical subjects. Here, 
 as in Shakespeare, Pyramus and Thisbe are the objects 
 of their histrionic ambition. It is a case of comedy 
 within comedy, where the actors flounder along into all 
 sorts of absurdities, to the great diversion of the Royal 
 audience. These potentates, on the conclusion of the 
 divertissement, decline to give a farthing for the play 
 itself, but reward the players with fifteen guldens for 
 every blunder they have made. 
 
 In " Horribilicribrifax " the action is less connected, 
 but the two retired ofiicers, Captain Horribilicribrifax 
 and Captain Diridaradatumdarides, admirably represent 
 the braggadocio partizans of the Thirty Years' "War. 
 One of these is for ever interlarding his conversation 
 with Italian, the other with French. Sempronius, the 
 retired schoolmaster, is an inimitable caricature of the 
 preposterous erudition of those days, which was con- 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 325 
 
 tinually expressing itself in phrases from Virgil and 
 Cicero, never forgetting to add, inquit Cicero, inquit 
 Yirgilius. Coarse passages are not wanting in these 
 pieces, but at all events Gryphius divests his comedies 
 of the stiffness and uniformity of the Silesian school, and 
 assays to do, what that school did not, describe real life.* 
 He also tried his skill in epigram, at that time called 
 Beischriften, but he was far surpassed by Friedrich 
 von Logau, a Silesian nobleman, who in 1638 issued a 
 collection of 200 epigrams, and in 1654 another of 
 3,553. In description and flow of language Logau is 
 not a whit inferior to the heads of the school, while in 
 truth of feeling, earnestness of purpose, and in terse- 
 ness of expression, he excels them all, Opitz included. 
 The best half of these epigrams are so good that Ger- 
 many may well be proud of them. Indeed, they are 
 quite on a par with anything of the kind by "Wernicke, 
 Kastner, and Gockingk, and superior to the epigrams 
 of Haug. One of their best features is that they are 
 not exclusively devoted to literary topics, or private 
 follies, but to matters of general interest, and to the 
 public affairs of the time. Would it, then, be believed 
 that fifty years after his death, Logan's name was for- 
 
 * Andreas Gryphius was torn 11th Octoher, 1616, at Grossglogau. 
 After nearly ten years spent in travel, he was made Syndicus of the 
 Principality of Glogau in 1647, and died 16th July, 1664. His "Leo 
 der Armenier" appeared in 1639, 1650, 1663; the " Horribilicribrifax,'' 
 1661 ; the "Epigrams," 1663. These editions have become rare. The 
 first collective edition of his works appeared, under his own superin- 
 tendence, 1657; a second, containing his poems written after that date, 
 was published by his son. Christian Gryphius, 1698; wanting, however, 
 " Das "Verliebte Gespenst." It was re-edited by Palm, Breslau, 1855, 
 with the " Geliebte Dornrose," a piece in the Silesian dialect. 
 
326 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 gotten ? — a striking contrast to the success of Opitz. 
 But there was a good reason for it. He despised all 
 the dedicational and laudatory trash of the day, and 
 would not even aflfix his name to his epigrams, which 
 professed to be the work of Salomo von Golau. His 
 works are, of course, not to be found in the catalogue 
 of the "Fruit-bearing Society," of which he was a 
 member; and the Polyhistor, Morhof, did not know 
 his real appellation. An anonymous selection appeared 
 in 1702, which omits the best of his epigrams, and 
 spoils many of the rest. It was reserved for Lessing 
 and Rammler to point out his merits. Even their 
 edition, containing about one-third of his pieces, fails 
 to give a correct idea of him as a describer of contem- 
 porary manners. This can only be obtained in the 
 complete edition of his original works.* 
 
 Joachim Eachel represents poetic satire in this 
 school. He was a native of North Germany, and died 
 at Sleswig in 1669. His six or (if the last two are 
 genuine) eight satires, are too learned for satire 
 proper. His descriptions of the degenerate state of 
 youthful education, as also that of the ever-ready poets 
 of the day, are good, although the former is an imi- 
 tation of Juvenal, and contains much that is quite 
 un-German. Prose satire is represented by Hans 
 Michael Moscherosch, of Alsace.f His " Gesichte 
 
 * Mederich von Logau was bom at Nimptsch, in Silesia, 1604 ; -was 
 in the service of the Duke of Liegnitz, and died 1655. The complete 
 edition of his epigrams is entitled " Salomons von Golau deutscher Sinn- 
 Getiehte Drey Tausend." 
 
 f Bom at Wilstadt, in the county of Hanau-Liehtenberg, in Alsace, 
 7th March, 1600 (old style) ; -was in the service of Counts Leiningen, the 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 327 
 
 Philanders von Sittenwald " waa very popular at one 
 time, and not unworthily so. His chief value lies in 
 the sketches of contemporary manners. But the satire 
 disappears almost entirely in a cloud of allegory. On 
 the whole, this piece leaves anything rather than a 
 comic or satirical impression. While the writer pro- 
 fesses to satirize pedantry and affectation of the foreign, 
 he falls into the very fault itself. The work is crammed 
 with Latin verses, and French, Italian, and Latin 
 phrases. While it assails the unnatural stiffness and 
 silly knowingness of the day, it is itself a specimen 
 of the absurdities it assails. With the works of the 
 older satirists, Murner and Pischart, it had nothing in 
 common. , It is thoroughly modem, and a product of 
 the modern learning. It is true that the author ex- 
 pressly states that it is his object to pourtray ^-la-mode 
 virtues in a-la-mode colouring ; but it seems to come so 
 natural to him that nobody can believe that his object 
 is ridicule. Still, the work is an important contribution 
 to the social history of those days. Indeed, in one part, 
 " Soldatenleben," there are more vivid glimpses at the 
 Thirty Years' War than can be found anywhere else. 
 
 Counts Kriechlngen, tlie Dukes of Croy, the King of Sweden, and, after 
 1656, was privy-councillor at Hanau. He died at Worms, 4th April, 
 1669. The first edition of his works appeared in 1640, containing seven 
 Gesichte; the second in 1642-1643, with four more, or eleven In all. 
 In the same year, or 1 644, appeared " Pflaster wider das Podagram," 
 and " Soldatenlehen," both separately. The edition of 1646 or 1647 
 contains all thirteen Gesichte. In the fourth edition, of 1650, a new 
 piece, " Reformation," is added. These fourteen appeared, with addi- 
 tions, in 1665, and again in 1677. In 1645 eleven spurious Gesichte 
 appeared, along with the genuine ones, by an imknown author, at 
 Frankfort-on-the-Maine. In 1830 the genuine Gesichte, together with a 
 biography of Moscherosoh, were published by Dittmar. 
 
328 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Like most of the works of the school, it is not original 
 being an imitation of Quevedo's " Suenos." Still, then 
 is no little originality about it in reference to Germany 
 He found many imitators, but none are worthy of re 
 cord. 
 
 Lastly, we have the collectors of anecdotes, who tool 
 the place of the earlier proverb collectors, as these 
 in their turn, had succeeded the older gnomic poets 
 Julius Wilhelm Zinkgraf, born in the Palatinate, bui 
 resident in Alsace, and the friend of Opitz, whos< 
 works he edited, stands first here. He coUectec 
 " Apophthegmata," or clever sayings of distinguishec 
 Germans, old and modern. It begins with sayings o: 
 emperors, and ends with sayings of fools, and is so wel 
 done, that it is well worth reading, Subsequently, ii 
 was published, with additions, by Weidner; but the 
 additions are much inferior to the original. A tolerable 
 selection from it was published several years ago bj 
 Guttenstein. 
 
 The Konigsberg group or School is represented bj 
 Robert Eoberthin, Heinrich Albert, and Simon Dach 
 They chiefly wrote lyrics, and their best productions 
 are fraught with more life and naturalness than any- 
 thino' of the Silesian School. There is an excellem 
 church-hymn by Albert, " Einen guten Kampf hab 
 ich in der Welt gekampfet." Dach's " Annchen vor 
 Tharau " is sung at the present day.* 
 
 * Eobert Eoberthin, who called himself Berintho, lived till 1648, a 
 Brandenburg councillor at Konigsberg. Albert 'va.s organist at Konigs 
 berg till 1668, and published these poems, -vrith some others, and witl 
 musical notes, 1638-1650. Dach was, till 1659, professor of poetry a 
 Konigsberg. The complete edition of his works appeared 1696. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 329 
 
 A striking contrast to this natural poetry is afforded 
 by the productions of the society called Pegnitzschafer 
 at Nuremberg. Artificial and strained to excess, their 
 very essence seems to depend upon dactyls and anapaests 
 cunningly arranged. Sugared, effeminate, and unreal, 
 they suit the age exactly. Not only the seventeenth 
 century teemed with these Idyllic Daphnes and Daph- 
 nises ; but even in the eighteenth there was no lack 
 of this Arcadian trumpery. Gessner closed the series. 
 Dramas too, with abundance of singing, but very little 
 sense, poured forth in Nuremberg. The Coryphsei of 
 this school were George Philip Harsdorfer and Johann 
 Klei. The latter had a great turn for writing spiri- 
 tual "Singspiele" (melodrames), e.g. "Herod the Child- 
 murderer," "The Fight between the Angel and the 
 Dragon," Here is a specimen of his quavering, jin- 
 gling, whirligig versicles : — 
 
 "Wir holen Violen in blumiGhten Auen, Narzissen entspriessen 
 von perlenen Thauen, 
 Die besten der Westen nun blumen ausstreuen, die !Felder, die 
 
 Walder ihr Laubwerk erneuen, 
 Die Blatter vom Wetter sehr lieblichen spielen, es nisten und 
 pisten die Vogel im Kiihlen." 
 
 Hartzdorfer gained great celebrity by his " Frauen- 
 zimmer-Gesprachspiele," a sort of ladies' encyclopaedia ; 
 and still more by his recipe for writing poetry, " Der 
 Poetische Trichter," dedicated to Moscherosch.* 
 
 Another group of poetasters, anxious to maintain "the 
 ornateness, and sweetness, and purity of the primjeval 
 
 * See Julius Tittmann, " Die NUrnberger Dichterschule, Harsdorfer, 
 Klay," Birken, 1847. 
 
330 6EEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 heroic tongue of Germany," clustered round Johann 
 Rist, pastor at "Wedel, in Holstein. In constructing 
 lyrics he was very expert ; but with him poetry was a 
 mechanical and superficial affair. It is only in religious 
 poetry that he displays any truth or originality. Of 
 Jacob Schwieger, alias Philidor der Dorferer's, nume- 
 rous lyric compositions, "Des Fluchtigen fliichtige 
 Feldrosen " and " Die Greharnischte Venus," are the 
 only ones that rise above the common-place. 
 
 He also wrote tragedies, comedies, and "Misch- 
 spiele " (mixed pieces), e. g. " Der Vermeinte Prinz," 
 from the Italian of Pallavicini; "Ernelinde," from 
 the English ; also an original drama " Die "Wittekinder." 
 Here we have introduced Hans "Wurst (the German 
 Jack-pudding), with his dull, coarse buffoonery, the 
 almost invariable adjunct of all German plays, till he 
 was formally and solemnly banished by Gottsched. 
 
 One more group of the middle of the seventeenth 
 century remains to be mentioned ; Philip von Zesen's 
 " Eosengesellschaft," (Society of Roses). Like the 
 Nuremberg Society, they thought of nothing but jingle 
 and omateness ; and even went beyond them in artifi- 
 ciality. They had a particular passion for madrigals 
 (called by Zesen " Shattenliedlein "), and French and 
 Italian rondeaux. These, Zesen put into dactylic 
 metre, which in his opinion bore the palm over every 
 other kind of verse. In his excessive anxiety to purify 
 the language he indulged in manifest absurdities. Nature 
 he called " producing-mother ;" crown prince, "kingly 
 prince ;" theatre, "show-castle ;" obelisk, " sun-point ;'> 
 a verse was " Dichtling " (diminutive, from dichten, to 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 331 
 
 write poetry). Venus was "Lustinije" (feminine of Lust, 
 i. e. pleasure). Aphrodite, "Schauminne" (her foami- 
 ness). Juno, " her heavenliness ;" a mask, " a mumming 
 face ;" a window was " daylighter," and so on.* The 
 marvellous eflfect which such words would produce is 
 evident. Zesen was a most prolific versifier. In the 
 year 1637, when he was eighteen, he began his career, 
 and wrote away till he was seventy. Purist in lan- 
 guage as he was, he is called by Calov, the theologian, 
 " Corrumpuntius patrise linguae." Kachel calls him, 
 ironically, " The Poet ;" and " Zesianer " was for a 
 long time a term of ridicule. Still he had many 
 defenders and many imitators ; and his adherents were 
 extant even in Gottsched's time.f 
 
 We shall now briefly allude to some poetical com- 
 positions which, though contemporary with the first 
 Silesian School, were independent of it. 
 
 The evangelical church lay must come first. In 
 those days of pedantry and artificiality, it alone still 
 preserved a tone of genuine truth ; it alone was popular 
 
 * A catalogue of these -wonderful expressions was appended by 
 Zesen to the " Adriatische Eosemunda," 366. 
 
 t Zesen was bom in Priorau, near Dessau, 1619, and, after living in 
 a variety of places, among others at Amsterdam, for a long time, died at 
 Hamburg, 1689. His earliest works are, " Adriatische Eosemund," 1645, 
 and the translations from the French, " Ibrahim und Isabella," 1645," So- 
 phonisbe," 1646. His latest written works are the Biblical Eomances, 
 " Assenat," 1 670, " Moses and Simson," 1679. A collection of his lyrics 
 appeared 1670, entitled " Dichterisches Eosen- und Lilienthal." Zesen 
 was most celebrated for his introduction to German poetry, which ap- 
 peared in numerous editions after 1640, under the title of " Hoch- 
 deutscher Helikon." 
 
332 UEEMAIJ^ LITEEATUEE. 
 
 in the highest sense. Powerful and active must have 
 been that faith which could extract from writers like 
 Gryphius and Flemming — sunk as they were in alle- 
 gorical fancies and starched unrealities — such genuine 
 effusions of Christian faith as "In alien meinen 
 Thaten," and " Die Herrlichkeit der Erden." 
 
 In the main, the character of the evangelical church 
 hymn in this period is the same as we have seen it 
 was in the sixteenth century. It is an exponent of 
 one's own immediate personal feelings and experience ; 
 not the result of poetic fancy and divination. It comes 
 from the heart and goes to the heart. It addresses 
 itself to the masses, to every rank and age ; it gives 
 utterance to the people's joys and sorrows ; it belongs 
 to the church and to all. But it differs from the elder 
 evangelical church hymn in this, that whereas in the 
 latter few allusions are made to especial circumstances 
 of society, and the influence exercised thereon by the 
 evangelical faith, the new church hymn lays the 
 greatest stress on the position of Germany as affected 
 by the evangelical faith, with the troubles and disorders 
 of the thirty years' war. It abounds with funeral songs, 
 songs of the Cross and of comfort, and family songs 
 for morning and evening. Most of these hymns 
 are in the old popular short pair of rhymes, which 
 had been abandoned by the secular poets ; in the 
 ancient and now despised Hildebrandston, together 
 with the tripartite strophe system. The method of 
 expression, too, is simple ; there are no tropes and 
 metaphors, no scene-painting, abstractions, or reflexions. 
 Lastly, the hymns of the seventeenth century are 
 
THE NEW PERIOD, 333 
 
 smootli and flowing, as conapared with the rugged 
 power and elevation of those of the sixteenth. 
 
 Of course, these observations principally refer to 
 the best and acknowledged hymns of the evangelical 
 church; indeed, taken as a whole, they are only appli- 
 cable to one poet, Paul Gerhard. His " Ein Lammlein 
 geht und tragt die Schuld ; " " Ich singe dir mit Herz 
 und Mund;" "O Haupt voU Blut und Wunden;" 
 " Ich bin ein Gast auf Erden ; " " Nun ruhen alle 
 Walder;" "Befiehl du deine Wege," are among the 
 choicest specimens of the German lyric muse. Of 
 Gerhard's one hundred and twenty songs, some are not 
 church but spiritual songs, e. g., " Geduld ist euch von 
 noten ;" " Nicht so traurig, nicht so sehr ;" all are 
 written in the simple child-like old tone, coming from 
 the deepest and most sacred recesses of the heart. Next 
 in merit are the hymns of the Electress of Branden- 
 burg, " Jesus meine Zuversicht," and " Ich will von 
 meiner Missethat zum Herren mich bekehren." Then 
 we may mention Rinkart's " Nun danket alle Gott ;" 
 Neumark's " Wer nur den lieben Gott lasst walten ;" 
 Rodigast's ""Was Gott thut das ist wohlgethan;" 
 Albinus' " Alle Menschen miissen sterben." 
 
 In Rist's hymns there is more life and solemnity 
 than even in Gerhard's. At times he approaches the 
 sublime, e. g. " Auf, auf, ihr Eeichsgenossen, der Konig 
 kommt heran ; " " O Ewigkeit, du Donnerwort ;" " O 
 Schwert das durch die Seele bohrt ;" " O Anfang sen- 
 der Ende." Like the rest of his school, however, he is 
 inclined to painting details, e. g,, in the hymn " O 
 Ewigkeit." 
 
334 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Johann Heermann, of Koben, in Silesia, stands 
 midway between the old and new period of Church 
 Hymns. His pieces exhibit features belonging to both. 
 Some of them are written in the Sapphic metre which 
 now came into fashion ; e. g., " Herzliebster Jesu, was 
 hast du verbrochen 1" He also uses the Alexandrine ; 
 e. g., in "O Gott, du frommer Gott!" which Rinckart 
 afterwards availed himself of in " Nun danket alle 
 Gott." At a later period we meet with the hexameter, 
 which is quite incompatible with this species of com- 
 position ; e. g., in Neander's " Lobe den Herren, den 
 machtigen Konig der Ehren." The writer, too, be- 
 comes more subjective in tone; describes his own 
 individual feelings rather than those of the crowd ; and 
 indulges more in Christian phantasy than Christian 
 experience. The jingle of fine words and descriptions 
 in glaring colours crept into the Church hymn after 
 the time of Gerhard; so that a confusion arose which 
 even continues to the present day between the genuine 
 Church hymn and the spiritual song. With the seven- 
 teenth century the real Church hymn disappeared, and 
 in its place we have only (geistliche) spiritual lays, 
 songs of contemplation, thought, and description, made 
 to be read, not sung; till at last the noble old hymn 
 died out with Gellert, and was superseded by unevan- 
 gelical, not to say unchristian, rhymes. 
 
 Of writers belonging to no particular school the 
 following may be mentioned. Friedrich von Spec, a 
 Jesuit monk, who began to write about 1 620, although 
 his poems were not published tiU fourteen years after his 
 death. The tone of his pieces reminds us of the Monk 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 335 
 
 of Salzburg and Heinrich von Laufenberg ; while they 
 also bear many points of resemblance to the Evan- 
 gelical Hymn. The name he gave them was " Trutz- 
 Nachtigall," meaning that he would sing in spite of the 
 nightingale. The most characteristic feature of these 
 poems is a child-like, heartfelt feeling for nature, joined 
 with an ardent love of the Saviour. lu the first feature, 
 as well as in his tendency to playfulness, he resembles 
 the old Minnesingers ; in the second, the Evangelical 
 Lay writers. Never esteemed by his own church, 
 and unnoticed by the Protestants, he was first taken 
 up by the Romantic School. Spee overflowed with 
 Christian love in its fullest sense ; it gushes forth in 
 his poems, about which there is a reality not to be 
 found in the artificial productions of the Silesian School. 
 He was one of the first to set his face against the trials 
 for witchcraft, and wrote a book on the subject. His 
 Christian feeling is evidenced by the answer he gave to 
 Philip von Schonborn, afterwards Elector of Mayence, 
 when he asked him how, at the age of forty, his hair 
 had come to be icy-grey. " My hair has grown grey 
 with grief to think that of all the witches I have had 
 to attend to the scaffold, I could not find one that was 
 not innocent." * 
 
 * !Friedrlch vou Spee was born at Kaiserswert, in 1591; entered the 
 Society of Jesus at Cologne, 1610 ; lived 1624-1626, at Paderbomj 
 1627-1629, at Wiirzbnrg; 1630-31, at Falkenhagen. While here he 
 published his " Cautio Criminalis." He died at Treves, August 7, 1635, 
 of over-exertion in attending the wounded soldiers at the storming of 
 that city by the Spaniards, May 6, 1635. The " Tratz-Nachtigall " 
 first appeared at Cologne, 1649, 12mo. Verses of his are also to be 
 
336 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 George Eudolf "Weckherlin was, so to say, the proto- 
 type of Opitz ; for he wrote learned poetry and em- 
 ployed the new measurement in verse before Opitz. 
 In style and language he is harder than his successor. 
 Living for the most part in London, he did not exer- 
 cise the influence which he might have done on his 
 contemporaries. " Wakkerlin sings as good as he 
 can," was the compassionate remark of Zesen* respect- 
 ing him. 
 
 Johann Scheffler, of Silesia, is better known by the 
 name he assumed of Angelus Silesius. At a later 
 period of his life he turned Roman Catholic. But 
 before this he wrote some hymns which are still used 
 by the Evangelical Church. For heartfelt fervour, they 
 are unsurpassed in the language. His " Cherubinischer 
 Wandersmann" contains a quantity of apophthegms 
 about the world and art, diametrically opposed to 
 the sententious wisdom and pretence of the Silesian 
 School. Thus, in the sentence headed " Ohne "Warum." 
 i. e., " "Without a wherefore," he says, " The rose is 
 without a wherefore. It blooms because it does bloom; 
 it thinks not of itself, does not ask whether people see 
 it." These proverbs are imbued with a high spirit of 
 
 found in the " Giildene Tugendtuch," 1649. The former -work, together 
 with these verses, was edited by Clemens Brentano, 1817, hut with the 
 orthography altered. The " Trutz-Nachtigall " was also published iu 
 1641, by Hiippe and Junkmaun. 
 
 * " Eosemunde," the poem from whence this line is taken, contains a 
 long and laudatory catalogue of the" then living poets and poetesses. Of 
 Buchner, he writes, " Der grosse Buchner, — dehm sich kein Zizero, 
 noch Maro gleichen kan." 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 337 
 
 poetry, but at times are disfigured by the Pantheistic 
 notions which Scheffler held ; e, g. 
 
 " God lives not without me: 
 I know that without me God can't exist a second. 
 Annihilate me, and he gives up the ghost." 
 
 Anyhow, Angelas Silesius is out and out one of the 
 most distinguished poetical personages to be found in 
 Germany for two whole centuries.* 
 
 Two satire-writers remain to be mentioned, whose 
 productions are conceived more in the popular style, 
 and remind us of the satire of the sixteenth century. 
 The one is Wilhelm Laurenberg, of Rostock, the last 
 German poet who wrote anything worth mentioning 
 in Low-German (Platt-deutsch). His "Veer olde 
 bercimede Schertzgedichte" are, it is true, written in the 
 Alexandrine, then in fashion ; but the matter is quite 
 of a popular nature, and in the true comic vein. The 
 subjects of his ridicule are the verse-writing for pay, 
 and the Frenchified fashions in dress and domestic life. 
 The best idea of his merits is obtained by comparing 
 him with his contemporary Rachel, who handled the 
 same topics after the manner of Opitz. The other is 
 Johann Balthaser Schuppius, of Giessen, who was Pro- 
 fessor of History and Eloquence at Marburg from 1635 
 to 1646. Subsequently he was Court-preacher at 
 Braubach, and in this capacity preached the sermon on 
 
 * Scheffler was horn at Breslau, 1624, and died there, 1677. Origi- 
 nally a physician, and attached as such to the Court of Wiirtemberg, on 
 becoming a pervert to Popery, he took orders, and was assessor to the 
 Bishop of Breslau. His religious poems (also entitled " Heilige SeeJen- 
 lust") appeared in the same year, as " Chenihiniseher Wandersmaun," 
 1657. 
 
 Q 
 
338 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 the conclusion of tte peace of "Westphalia, at Mlinster. 
 After this he was head of the clergy at Hamburg, 
 where he died 1661, aged 51. Full of life and energy, 
 he was a declared foe of the Opitz school, and of the 
 useless pedantry of the times. Instinct with wit, 
 humour, and earnestness — abounding with felicitous 
 allusions to the topics of the day, and couched in a 
 lively natural style, his writings contrast forcibly with 
 the starched and stilted prose then so much in vogue. 
 Perhaps they are the very best of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury. His sermons, too, unlike those of his colleagues, 
 are In the popular tone, and, though at times coarse, 
 very impressive, and occasionally touching. One of 
 these, on the New Year — due allowance being made 
 for the congratulatory parts, which were In accordance 
 with the then fashion — is quite a model of popular 
 eloquence. It was these very discourses which in- 
 flamed the wrath of the Hamburg clergy. The dis- 
 sensions which resulted In consequence we have to 
 thank for the majority of his satirical and humorous 
 pieces. In modem times he had become totally for- 
 gotten, until he was rescued from oblivion by Wachler.* 
 
 Having thus briefly described the opponents of the 
 Opitz school, we shall proceed to investigate its further 
 development and fortunes. 
 
 That Opitz tried to regulate the metre, and bring It 
 
 * See Wachler, on Schuppius, in his " Vorlesnngen," &o. 1818-1819, 
 ii. 64, and in Ebert's " Ueberlieferungen," 1826, 1. 2, p. 140. Most of his 
 chief writings in the German language (all short treatises) were written 
 in his later years, 1656-1660. He was bom at Giessen, 1610; died at 
 Hamburg, Octoher^^l€61. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 339 
 
 info unison with the state of the language, has been 
 already stated. But, on the other band, the propensity 
 of his adherents for external ornamentation, for quaint 
 and select epithets, for jingling sounds, for word-paint- 
 ing, and the like — although he himself may have kept 
 within modest bounds — soon passed all limits. The 
 declamation and rhetoric of the older school now swelled 
 into bombast and false pathos. The colouring ran mad ; 
 the lofty tones rose into a scream. A monstrosity was 
 the result, which bore within itself the germ of its own 
 dissolution. Such was the fate of the second Silesian 
 School — so called because its chiefs, Christian Hofmann 
 von Hofmannswaldau and Daniel Caspar von Lohen- 
 stein, were, like their predecessors of forty years before, 
 natives of Silesia. 
 
 Another collateral cause of decay, often before al- 
 luded to, was the prevalent idea inculcated by count- 
 less manuals, that poetry was not an innate gift, but an 
 art easily attained by practice — an article of luxury, 
 that every one might acquire, and must acquire, if he 
 wished to be in the mode, by going to school for it. 
 According to this notion, poetry would become a mere 
 mechanical operation ; and such was the creed of Chris- 
 tian Weise, (rector of the school at Weissenfels, and then 
 at Zittau,) with his train of wishy-washy verse-writers. 
 
 Miserable as their compositions were, they, never- 
 theless, did one good : dethroned the bombast of the 
 second Silesian School. Gottsched joined them, and 
 this led to the dispute between him and the Swiss, 
 which prepared the way for the second classical period 
 of German Literature. 
 
 Q 2 
 
340 GEEMAK LITEEATTTHE. 
 
 Christian Hofmann von Hofmannswaldau*, tte elder 
 representative of the second Silesian School, was, in his 
 youth, personally acquainted with Opitz. From him, in 
 a great measure, he took his poetic inspiration. But he 
 was, as he himself states, influenced most by the immoral 
 effusions of the French, and by the poetry of GuarinI 
 and Marino, whose honeyed, bombastic, and impure 
 verse, often merely calculated to tickle the ear, was just 
 the stimulant required by the enervated scribblers of the 
 day. From this source it was that Hofmannswaldau 
 derived his " sharpened " epithets, as he calls them ; 
 his multiplication of strong phrases; his nauseously 
 sweet images ; his forced descriptions, sublime and 
 ridiculous in a breath, and his inconceivable indecency ; 
 defects, however, in which he was imitated, if not 
 exceeded, by Lohenstein and others. Besides his 
 separate lyric pieces, his most characteristic work is 
 his " Heldenbriefe," or amatory epistles, after the man- 
 ner of Ovid, exchanged between a number of distin- 
 guished lovers, e. g. Charles the Fifth and Barbara 
 von Blomberg ; Albert III. of Bavaria and Agnes 
 Bernauerin ; Duke Henry of Brunswick and Eva von 
 Trott ; Abelard and Heloise. 
 
 Charles the Fifth writes to Barbara as follows : — 
 
 " The year has four seasons, thou hnt one : 
 The spring for ever hlooms round thy fresh mouth ; 
 
 * Christian Hofmann von Hofmannswaldau, bom at Breslau, 1618; 
 died there in 1679, as Prseses of the Council. None of his poems were 
 published till the year of his death, 1679; ("Deutsche Uehersetzungen 
 und Gedichte). Long after his death many of them were published, for 
 the first time, in " Hbfinanswaldau und anderer Deutschen Auserlesene 
 Gedichte," 1697-1727. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 341 
 
 No -winter is -with thee; for the light of thine eyes 
 
 The sun itself can hardly shine. 
 
 Thou hearest virtue in a purple cup, 
 
 Adorned, it seems, with whitest ivory ; 
 
 Thy mouth is the resort of a thousand nightingales, 
 
 Where angel-tongues chime in with the music." 
 
 Eva Trott writes to the Duke of Brunswick in these 
 terms : — 
 
 " O would that I could change my mouth to honeycomh ; 
 Would that my breast were changed into a swan's ; 
 Could I hut give to thee, with gentle hand. 
 Some pleasure untasted yet by lovers. 
 Could I, like balsam, melt upon thy lap, 
 Methinks the maid, thro' which the Sun must pass (i.e. the 
 
 sign Virgo) 
 Would yield to me in honour ; 
 For I am more than her, — she never gets a kiss." 
 
 These specimens will suffice to show the style of his 
 poetry. 
 
 Lohensteiuj* a younger poet with a more exuberant 
 fancy, goes still further in all the worst features of the 
 school, especially in indecency. In those days, while 
 people lived indecently in France, they wrote inde- 
 cently in Germany ; and thus both these writers were 
 very honourable earnest men, whose lives were quite 
 free from the impurities of their poems. It was only 
 the higher classes, and not the mass of the people, that 
 were infected with this poison. Indeed, from the end 
 
 * Daniel Kaspar von Lohenstein, born at Nimptsch, 1635; died, an 
 Imperial Councillor, at Breslau, 1683. With the exception of "Ibrahim 
 Bassa," which appeared in 1650, and "Ibrahim Sultan," which appeared 
 1673, his dramas were published between 1661 and 1665. He collected 
 his lyric poems (" Blumen," " Rosen," " Hyacinthen," " GeistUohe Gedan- 
 ken," " Thranen,") in 1680. In Neukirch's collection, mentioned in the 
 preceding note, his " Venus," and other poems, are to be found. 
 
 Q 3 
 
342 GERMAN LITEEATTJEE. 
 
 of the thirty years' war to the French Eevolution may 
 be pronounced the best, the most moral, and most reli- 
 gious, period of Germany. Lohenstein wrote several 
 dramas, which were highly admired. Also a great num- 
 ber of lyric and descriptive poems. Of the latter, his 
 " Venus " was greatly praised. He is also the author 
 of a romance, hereafter to be mentioned. The bombast 
 of his style is proverbial. Here is a specimen from his 
 tragedy of Agrippina : — 
 Megsera speaks : 
 
 " Arch murderer! (Nero) as the bloody weals, 
 Stricken by my serpent-rod, 
 Imprint Orestes' swarthy neck. 
 Because he slew his mother, 
 So shall my whip, with tenfold greater pains, 
 Thee crimson: fire and sulphur blacken thee." 
 
 Tisiphone : 
 
 " Come, sisters, help me bind up rods ; 
 Come, lend me your viper hair; 
 Help me to kindle rosin from Phlegethon 
 Hither, with tinder, sulphur, pitch ; 
 Lay bare his limbs ; use torches, flame, and rod, 
 tJntil the flame is quenched in the murderer's blood." 
 
 His best drama, perhaps, is " Ibrahim Bassa." But, 
 perhaps, a specimen from the poems of one of his 
 scholars will show to what an absurd pitch of bombast 
 the school arrived : — 
 
 " Nectar, and sugar, and juicy cinnamon. 
 Pearly dew, honey, and Jupiter's juice. 
 Balsam, that glimmers brighter than coal-flame, 
 Of every plant the powers united. 
 In flavour these are bitter more than sweet, 
 Compared with the nectar of sugary kisses." 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 343 
 
 All that needs be remarked further is, that the spiri- 
 tual songs of the Halle school, and also of Zinzendorf, 
 were infected with the absurdities of Lohenstein ; and 
 that he and his disciples begot the monster " poetical 
 prose," which is hardly yet exterminated in Germany. 
 
 Very little need be said about the other offshoot of the 
 second Silesian School, the " Water Poets " with Weise 
 at their head. In his opinion, every youth who wished 
 to cut a figure in the world, must spend some hours 
 each day in writing verses.* True to this theory, he 
 made great endeavours to have poetry-writing taught 
 in the German Gymnasia. His efforts were crowned 
 with success ; and a precious set of versifiers were pro- 
 duced. Hunold, to wit, who called himself Menantes ; 
 and who, in concert with the Pietist School of Franke, 
 at Halle, successfully opposed the voluptuous tone 
 introduced by Lohenstein.f Then, again, Postel, 
 Henrici, Corvinus {alias Amaranthes), Hanke, Bar- 
 thold Feind, von Besser, and J. Ulrich Konig, whose 
 poems were edited by Gottsched, and highly praised by 
 him for their purity of form, though in matter they are 
 utterly deficient^, — and lastly, Daniel "Wilhelm Triller, 
 
 * " Cliristian Weise der Griinenden Jugend notwendige Gedanken," 
 1675 (1690). No. xx-rii. p. 72. 
 
 t Hunold lived at Halle from 1708 to his death in 1718. He pub- 
 lished a collection of poems by Tarious writers, including his own under 
 the name of Menantes, in opposition to the obscene tone of Hof- 
 mannswaldaH. Here are poems by J. Lange, Bogazky, Knorr von 
 Bosenroth, and Eambach. In p. 745 he speaks out most plainly 
 against the indecent poetry of the day, which he had himself formerly 
 cherished. 
 
 :j: Heinrieh Postel, of Hamburg, must not be confounded with Nikolaus 
 von Bostel, of Stade, whose poems were first published after his early 
 
 Q 4 
 
344 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 the editor of some spurious works of Opitz. As late as 
 1739 he sang the merits of the poet Brookes in the 
 following strain : — 
 
 ■^o 
 
 " Great Brookes, oh ! say how far thou'lt go. 
 How high thy fame like eagle soar. 
 Thy verse, enchantress of the soul, 
 Can by its power e'en dead hearts move." * 
 etc. 
 
 These pretty poetasters dwelt, for the most part, 
 at Hamburg, and at Leipzig, making Upper Saxony 
 renowned as the fatherland of German poetry and 
 German culture — a renown which Gottsched trum- 
 peted further throughout the rest of Germany, which 
 he contemptuously styled " the provinces." Nay, 
 even Adelung was thoroughly convinced that their 
 verses would be immortal, and this in the days, not 
 merely of Klopstock and Lessing, but of Schiller and 
 Goethe. " Either," said he, " Upper Saxony has 
 whoUy degenerated from the good taste of 1740- 
 
 death in 1708. Barthold Feind was also of Hamburg. He had a talent 
 for writing operas, and was acquainted with Sbakespere's works, a rare 
 accomplishment in those days. Henrici, known under the name of 
 Picauder, as the author of frivolous poems, in three volumes. He, as 
 well as Corvinus (Amaranthes), and Hanke, were of Saxony. The last 
 is the author of the well-known hunting-song, " Auf, auf ! auf, auf, zum 
 Jagen, auf in die griine Haid," the basis of many other songs, see his 
 " Gedichte," i. p. 144. Of the regular Silesians of the second School 
 the favourite was Muhlpfort, of Breslau, a contemporary of Lohenstein. 
 His renown among the christening and wedding poets has survived for 
 more than a hundred years. 
 
 * These lines are to be found in his " BethlehemitischerKindermord," 
 p. 62. He also wrote " Der Sachsische Prinzenraub," 1743, a poem in 
 four books, in the manner of Gottsched, 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 345 
 
 1760, or these provincials (Goethe and Schiller) have 
 got on an entirely wrong track.* 
 
 Between the bombastic poets of the second Silesian 
 School and these wishy-washy rhymesters, there were 
 several intermediate verse-writers who shared the de- 
 fects of both, but to a more moderate extent. Indeed, 
 some of them remind us, though in a faint degree, of 
 the simplicity of the first Silesian School. Even 
 Weise shows himself capable of better things, chiefly, 
 however, in the prose line. His " Drei Erznarren," a 
 satiric romance, written under the pseudonym of Ca- 
 tharinus Civilis, is by no means one of the worst pro- 
 ductions of the day. Johann von Assig and Hans 
 Asmann von Abschatz were also among this inter- 
 mediate class. They were both natives of Silesia. The 
 latter, in the choice of matter, strongly resembles Hof- 
 mannswaldau. Again, Benjamin Neukirch, a Silesian, 
 but resident at Ansbach, disgusted with Lohenstein's 
 want of taste, adopted a more measured and dignified 
 tone. Unfortunately, however, the poems of Neukirch 
 and others, while they dropped high-flown bombast, 
 became, at the same time, dry and empty. They would 
 have nothing to do with the Italians, and knew nought 
 of the best modern French models, let alone the Greek 
 and Latin. (Neukirch took Fenelon's " Telemachus" 
 for an epic, and translated it into German Alexan- 
 drines !) Christian Gryphius, son of the elder of that 
 name, had a great idea of Hofmannswaldau, and in- 
 finitely preferred him to Opitz. But his tone is more 
 that of the older Silesian School. Like his father, he is 
 
 * Adelung, " Magazin fiir die deutsche Spraohe," 1783. 
 Q 5 
 
346 GERMAN LITBKATUEE. 
 
 expert in sad and melancholy poetry. In his poem on 
 the death of his two children, and on the suflferings of 
 his sister, there are touches of genuine feeling. But 
 the writer with most truth about him, notwithstanding 
 all his Hofmannwaldauesque expressions, is Christian 
 Gunther, of Striegau, whose poems enjoyed a high 
 reputation even in the time of Gellert, Klopstock, and 
 Lessing. Dissolute in habits, but not bad-hearted, he 
 was disowned by his father, and no entreaties on the 
 part of the son could bring about a reconciliation. 
 This circumstance imparts to all his poems referring 
 to it, a warmth and life quite unknown in these days. 
 But this same feature is also discernible in many of his 
 amatory and occasional pieces. If the poem in recol- 
 lection of his youth is genuine, which is most likely the 
 case, it is much to his honour. His great weakness 
 was, that he could not keep sober, and he died of 
 drink and misery in 1723. 
 
 The lamentable condition of German poetry at the 
 end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth 
 century at last produced a reaction ; and a literary 
 contest ensued, — the first in the history of German 
 letters. Christian Wernicke — subsequently a Danish 
 Councillor of State — in a volume of epigrams (" Poet- 
 ische Versuche in Ueberschriften," 1697,) made an on- 
 slaught, not only on Hofmannswaldau and Lohenstein, 
 but also on Weise. In these epigrams, which, next 
 to Friedrich von Logau's, were the best of the 
 time, and are well worthy of attention, he probes 
 the sore in the body poetic to its very bottom, with 
 unsparing hand laying bare the sources of the evil. 
 
THE NEW FEKIOD. 347 
 
 Here is a specimen : — 
 
 Ok certaik Poems. 
 
 " Csesura ? good ; the Verse ? flows well ; the Rhyme ? adroit ; 
 The Words ? in order. Nothing disordered — but the sense." 
 
 This and other similar effusions fired the resentment 
 of the Hamburg poetasters, Postel, Hunold, and Co. 
 Postel replied with a sonnet, wherein he compared 
 Wernicke to a hare hopping about a dead lion (Hof- 
 mannswaldau). Wernicke rejoined with a comic heroic 
 poem, " Hans Sachs," wherein he represents that for- 
 gotten poet as the king of all shallow rhymers, and 
 about to crown as his successor on the throne one 
 Stelpo, i.e. Postel. Upon this, Hunold entered the 
 lists, and poetic attack and rejoinder followed each 
 other in quick succession. 
 
 It was this contest that first shook the universal 
 belief in the incomparable excellence of Hofmanns- 
 waldau and Lohenstein. Their worshippers fell off in 
 number from year to year, and the dry rhymers began 
 to obtain the upper hand. Even Hunold himself even- 
 tually took part against the impurities of this school, 
 which ultimately disappeared from German poetry ; 
 partly through the influence of Franke and the reli- 
 gious school. But with the banishment of bombast, 
 nothing very great would have been achieved in poetry, 
 unless new matter had been supplied. Had poetry 
 continued in its negative position, It would have been 
 a mere affair of empty rules, and frigid insipidity. 
 
 Such were the verses of Benjamin Neukirch and of 
 von Besser ; which for some time served as models for 
 
 <5 6 
 
348 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 imitation. But there was too much talent in those who 
 had hitherto been adherents of the Lohenstein school, 
 to attach themselves to mechanical rhymers like Hen- 
 rici and Corvinus ; and they began to look around for 
 some new material, some nobler and more independent 
 shape for German poetry. And it was in this attempt 
 we see the first gleam of the new poetical dawn after 
 a long and dreary night. 
 
 Foremost among these heralds of the dawn, stands 
 Friedrich Rudolph Ludwig von Canitz*, born 1654, 
 died 1699. He and Wernicke were the only ones that 
 did not suffer themselves to be carried away by the 
 stream of a depraved age. In his lifetime, it is true, 
 he exercised less influence than Wernicke, for his 
 poems were confined to private circulation ; most of 
 them were first published in 1700 by Joachim Lange, 
 the theologian of Halle. In his didactic poetry, he 
 denounces most emphatically the Lohenstein school, as 
 well as the poverty-stricken exercises and occasional 
 pieces of Weise and his sect. And though in point of 
 matter he himself never achieves anything of import- 
 ance, yet there is an earnestness and a gravity in his 
 view of human life, which even Wernicke comes short 
 of; while his language is not only more measured, but 
 
 * Bom 27th November, 1654; died, a Privy Councillor at Berlin, 
 11th August, 1699. Unlike the heap of contemporary poets, he was not 
 a prolific -writer. His " Satyre iiber die Poesie," discusses the taste of 
 the day. His two religious poems, " Unser Heiland ist gebunden," and 
 •' Wenn Blut und Xiiste schaumen," were long known ; and almost 
 equally so his dirge on the death of his first wife ; an expression in which 
 "Was fiir Wellen und fur Flammen schlagen iiber mir zusanmien," hag 
 become proverbial. New editions of his poems appeared from 1700 to 
 1727. The tenth, 1727, is the best ; the later ones follow it. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 349 
 
 likewise purer, nobler, and more fluent, than that of 
 Wernicke. By the poets presently to be mentioned 
 Canitz was looked upon as a model, and for a long 
 period he was held to be one of the best authorities. 
 About this same period, we perceive, in the person of 
 a pseudonymous writer, E,einhold von Freienthal, an 
 awakening of poetical taste in Switzerland, which coun- 
 try soon after played so important a part in the deve- 
 lopment of German poetry. His poems, at aU events, 
 show that the yoke under which the Muse groaned was 
 become everywhere insupportable, and that she was 
 gasping for more nature, simplicity, and truth. 
 
 Barthold Heinrich Brookes*, a senator of Hamburg, 
 was one of the first to proceed still further in the path 
 struck out by Canitz and "Wernicke. The new matter 
 selected by him was a true and affectionate study of 
 Nature. At times he becomes wearisome by his mi- 
 nuteness of detail. His " Irdisches Vergniigen in 
 Gott," (Earthly Pleasure in God,) for instance, though 
 it contains most felicitous descriptions, is on the whole 
 too long-winded and diffuse. The gossiping tendency 
 of the older period was yet unsubdued, as well as the 
 over-addiction to too much finish of description. Still 
 there is a vast gulf between the empty and babbling 
 monotony of the mechanical rhymsters and the true- 
 hearted verbosity of the Hamburger; a vast gulf 
 between the unreal glaring scene -painting of the se- 
 
 * Bom 1680, died 1747. His " Irdisches Vergnugen in Gott "ap- 
 peared by degrees from 1723 to 1748 ; tlie nintli and last part after his 
 death. The first fire parts -went through many editions. The first 
 seven, in twenty years. 
 
350 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 cond Silesian School, and the true, though all too true 
 and microscopical, manner of this simple poet, who stu- 
 died a snow-flake or the hues of a carnation with most 
 painstaking minuteness. Even in his congratulatory 
 poems, of which he wrote not a few, and in his trans- 
 lation from the Italian of Marino's " Murder of the 
 Innocents," there is a staid and earnest tone, prophetic 
 of the new period of the Halle school, with its Hage- 
 dorn and Uz. 
 
 Another Hamburger, Michael Kichey, much resem- 
 bled him, as also Karl Friedrich Drollinger, of Baden, 
 a zealous admirer of Canitz and Brockes, and the 
 pioneer of a new period. He also foretold, in 1724, 
 the future influence of Switzerland in German 
 poetry. 
 
 Romance. 
 
 After this short survey of the literature of the seven- 
 teenth century, it only remains for us to say some 
 words on the Romance, which originated in this period, 
 and, during it, underwent a number of viscissitudes, 
 which are of the greatest interest for the history of 
 culture, if not of poetry. 
 
 The oldest prototypes and predecessors of the modem 
 Romance are, partly, the art-epics, grounded on the 
 matter of foreign sagas, partly the poetic tales — espe- 
 cially those of foreign origin — which, disconnecting 
 themselves from the saga, enjoyed an independent 
 existence of their own. With the decline of art- 
 
, THE NEW PERIOD, 351 
 
 poetry, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, de- 
 clined also the taste of the hearing and reading public, 
 first, for the poetic form of these tales, then for the 
 matter of them. Prose was better suited for the then 
 stage of culture, and therefore it is that, besides a few 
 traces of prose versions of foreign epopcei of the thir- 
 teenth century, we have in the fifteenth century prose 
 stories from " Tristan and Isolt," " Wigalois," " Flos 
 and Bankflos," also from " Pontus and Sidonia," " Hug- 
 schapler," " Lother and MaUer," " Fierabras," and many 
 others.* The German Yolksbiioher, also, already men- 
 tioned, " Kaiser Octavian," " Melusine," " Magellone 
 and Peter with the Silver Key," " Duke Ernest," &ic. ; 
 
 * The romance of " Pontus und Sidonia,'* which was one of the most 
 famous, is the only one resting on a German basis. It is the old 
 English story of the fourteenth century, " Hornchilde and Maiden Ei- 
 menild " (Ritson's Ancient Romances, iii. 295). Compare J. Grimm in 
 Hagen's "Altd. Museum," ii. 284. " Pontus and Sidonia" was translated 
 from the French in the middle of the fifteenth century, by the Scottish 
 Princess Eleanor, the wife of Duke Sigmund of Austria. It was printed 
 in 1485, and frequently since. 
 
 " Der Hugschapler " (Hugo Capet, whose fabulous history it contains) 
 was written at the beginning of the fifteenth century, by Margarethe, 
 Duchess of Loraine. She also composed the romance of " Lother und 
 Mailer,'' which belongs to the Carlovingian group of Sagas. A German 
 translation of it was written by her daughter Elizabeth, Duchess of 
 Nassau-Saarbriicken, in 1437, and printed in 1514. A new version of 
 it was published by Fr. Schlegel, 1805. See his works, vol. vii. 
 
 "Kerabras," like "Lother and MaUer," belongs to the Carlovingian 
 group, and has been known in Germany since 1533. Together with 
 " Tristan und Isolt," and " Pontus and Sidonia," it forms the contents of 
 V. d. Hagen's " Buch der Liebe," 1809. " Melusine " must be of Celtic 
 extraction. It was translated from the Prench in 1456, by Diiring von 
 Eingoltingen of Bern, and the translation printed in 1474. "Mage^ 
 lone" was first translated into German at the same time as "Kaiser 
 Ootavianus," viz., in 1535. The latter, by W. Salzmannj the former, 
 by Veit Warbeck. 
 
352 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 at least tke half of them can be placed in this category." 
 In the sixteenth century the higher orders, who were 
 becoming more and more estranged from the lower, 
 indulged In this taste for what was foreign, marvellous, 
 and fantastic still more and more. The French litera- 
 ture,, in its older poetry and in its more recent prose 
 versions of -the same, supplied them with ample ma- 
 terials for gratifying the passion. In addition to the 
 pieces mentioned above, " Tristan," &c., (which were 
 published in 1587 by Feierabend, of Frankfort, In a 
 collection entitled "Buch der Hebe,") Amadis* was 
 now imported from France, and with it the term 
 Komance. Besides these tales, based on an old epic 
 foundation, a new sort of composition had arisen in 
 Italy, chiefly through the instrumentality of Boccacio, 
 as early as the middle of the fourteenth century. It 
 was founded on the occurrences of the day, and was 
 hence called Novel; and these novels were diffused 
 throughout Germany In the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 centuries, not in imitations, but In translations. 
 
 In the beginning of the seventeenth century, the 
 heroic saga and heroic lay became quite extinct, and 
 their place was occupied by this romance literature, 
 borrowed from the countries to the south and west of 
 Germany. Translations and versions increased in 
 number. De Rosset's '' Traurige Geschichten " was 
 
 * The origin of " Amadis " is still obscure ; most likely it is Portu- 
 guese or Spanish, and composed in the fourteenth century. In its oldest 
 form it is comprised in four hooks, Trbich afterwards swelled out to 
 twenty-four. It was brought to Germany shortly before 1569, and pub- 
 lished in a German translation by the bookseller, Feierabend, 1569-70. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 353 
 
 translated by Martin ZelUer, and became a favourite 
 book with the higher classes. Presently, imitations 
 from the French appeared, all of them in the bad taste 
 of the age, either intolerably dry and prolix, after the 
 manner of the elder, or sprawling and bombastic, after 
 the manner of the younger Silesian School. 
 
 Philip von Zesen, mentioned above, was one of the 
 earliest and most popular writers in this line. His love- 
 story, entitled " Die Adriatische Eosemund Hitter- 
 hold's von Blauen," though an inconceivably duU affair, 
 is note-worthy from its being the first book of the 
 kind. In the preface he expresses his joy that this 
 sort of composition had now found favour in Germany, 
 after having been hitherto confined to Spain, Italy, and 
 France. " It was high time," he continues, " for Ger- 
 many to infuse into this sort of literature an ' amiable 
 earnestness ; ' as all the foreign examples were mere 
 tattle, devoid of pith and vigour." According to his 
 own statement, this was to be his last as well as first 
 novel — a determination which he did not adhere to. 
 In the same way, he did not follow the counsel which 
 he gave his countrymen, not to translate anything from 
 foreign languages. He is the author of at least two 
 other original romances, on biblical and rabbinical sub- 
 jects : " Simson," an heroic love-story, and " Assenat," 
 the traditional name of the wife of the Patriarch 
 Joseph. The latter, especially, was long a favourite 
 with the reading world, and the matter has been re- 
 worked by Jung Stilling and others. Two other 
 romances were translated by him from the French, 
 ''Ibrahim and Isabella's "Wonderful History," and 
 
354 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 " The African Sophomsbcj" both on the model of 
 '' Rosemund." Zesen's style is very eccentric. In his 
 later works he is much given to short abrupt sentences, 
 ■wherein he exhibits a strange contrast to the diffuse, 
 pathetic, dragging style of later romance-writers. At 
 times, however, he becomes quite childish and absurd. 
 His orthography, moreover, and way of rendering 
 foreign words, are odd and perverse beyond belief. In 
 dulness, however, he is far surpassed by his successors 
 in the love-story line, e. g. Grimmelshausen, the author 
 of " Proximus and Lympida." As for action, there is 
 none in these romances. In " Eosemund," even, not a 
 little space is taken up with the preparations the heroes 
 and heroines make for writing their love-letters, e. g, 
 biting their quiUs, tearing up the paper, and, when the 
 voluminous epistle is at length completed, it is given at 
 length for the benefit of the reader. 
 
 The stories of " Simson " and " Assenat " are by no 
 means confined to love affairs. The latter purports to 
 be a history, not only of love, but of state, and de- 
 scribes at length the Government and Court of Egypt. 
 In fact, a time had now arrived when, instead of de- 
 scribing great and heroic deeds of universal interest, 
 the Romance was for ever twaddling about matters of 
 state, courtly pomps and ceremonies, solemn audiences, 
 and festivals. This was quite in keeping with the 
 Louis Quatorze taste, which now began to hold domi- 
 nion over Germany, and gave the death-blow to the 
 old mutual fidelity between king and people, — the 
 fatherly kindness of the monarch on the one hand, and 
 the corresponding gratitude of his lieges. So that, in 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 355 
 
 the long list of heroic and state romances which now 
 followed and found favour with the reading-world, we 
 have a most true mirror of the ideas and culture of the 
 times — indeed this may be predicated of all the German 
 romances from the middle of the seventeenth century 
 to this day. 
 
 A touch of the grand is attempted in the succeeding 
 romances, by making the heroes do mighty deeds. A 
 back-ground of seemingly great importance is intro- 
 duced. This is the case with the two romances, " The 
 marvellous History of the Christian-German-Grand- 
 duke Hercules and the Bohemian Princess Valisca," 
 and " Hercules and Herculadisla," by Heinrich Buch- 
 holz, court-preacher at Brunswick. The first of these 
 is intended, on the one hand, to counteract the Frenchi- 
 fied taste for " Amadis," and tales of that class ; and at 
 the same time for the spiritual edification of the reader. 
 For this purpose this long-winded tale of conversion to 
 Christianity is thickly interspersed with prayers and 
 spiritual songs. This wonderful composition first saw 
 the light in 1659, when the strange combination of the 
 worldly and the spiritual was unfavourably received by 
 the critics. Notwithstanding which adverse judgment 
 and its own absurdities, it held its ground for a good 
 hundred years. In 1744 this " Christian Romance" 
 appeared in an abbreviated shape, the hymns and 
 prayers being left out. In 1781 it was published in a 
 remodelled form. Soon after the appearance of the 
 above, Duke Anton Ulrich, of Brunswick — known for 
 his hymns, and for his perversion to Rome at a very 
 advanced age— produced his " Love Story of Ara- 
 
856 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 inenaj" and " Octavia, a Roman History." The former 
 ■was remodelled In 1782. The latter became very famous. 
 In it we have the history of the Koman emperors, from 
 Claudius to Vespasian. But the chief interest of this 
 romance lies in the eighty-and-forty episodes which it 
 contains, abounding with anecdotes of the great and 
 small courts of his time, under fictitious names. To 
 most of these the key is lost ; but they are not without 
 moment, as bearing upon the history of contemporary 
 manners and politics. But there was another romance 
 which quite ravished the reading world, and which 
 stood in high estimation for a full century, viz., Hein- 
 rich Anselm von Ziegler und Kliphausen's " Asiatische 
 Banise, oder blutiges, jedoch mutiges Pegu." The 
 author died young. Adorned with all the prosaic 
 splendours of the second Silesian School, its very open- 
 ing enchanted every heart. " May lightning, thunder, 
 and hail, the avenging tools of Heaven, shatter the 
 pomp of thy gilded towers, and the vengeance of the 
 Gods consume all the inhabitants of the city, who have 
 worked the downfal of the kingly house. If the Deity 
 permitted it, my eyes could become thunder-pregnant 
 clouds, and these my tears cruel deluges. "With a thou- 
 sand clubs, like a fire-work of just rage, I would aim at 
 the heart of the accursed blood-hound, and certainly 
 not miss it." And could any heart withstand the se- 
 ductive apostrophes with which a loving princess, 
 dagger in hand, addresses the royal lover who had 
 spurned her ? "Behold, then, pitiless tyrant, how splash- 
 ing blood will cry to the Gods night and day for ven- 
 geance on thy insensible heart. Boast not, adamantine 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 357 
 
 soul, that thy princess hath loved thee to the death, and 
 hath pierced her heart for this love's sake ; for this stab 
 will go through my heart, but through thy soul, — will 
 cause me a passing pain, but thee everlasting torment. 
 Yes ! my bloody ghost shall pursue you to the end of 
 the world ; hourly sweep before thine eyes, and upbraid 
 thee with thy cruelty." Upon this she proceeds to 
 stab herself, but is prevented by an honest soldier. 
 Again, how the responsive heart of the reader must 
 have sympathised with the bliss of the Emperor Balacin 
 and his Princess Banise, who, together with three other 
 royal pairs, after conquering the enemy, were married 
 in the camp. What a captivating description that is, 
 where " those lively generals, Paduck, Mangostan, 
 Martong, and Ragoa, bethought them how they might 
 procure some suitable diversion for the heroic victors. 
 At last they hit upon the clever and graceful expedient 
 of serenading them with a contest, deftly set to music, 
 between Venus and the God of "War, wherein it was so 
 arranged that the Goddess of Love should be repre- 
 sented by lutes, harps, and other pleasant stringed 
 instruments of music, accompanied by the sweet voices 
 of twelve Portuguese boys ; while the part of Mars 
 was ably filled by trumpets, kettle-drums, and other 
 warlike instruments, assisted by twelve adults of the 
 same nation." 
 
 But a work by Lohenstein himself was intended to 
 be the pink of all romance. " Arminius and Thus- 
 nelda," as this renowned story is entitled, was edited by 
 the author's brother, after Lohenstein's early death, 
 A.D. 1689, and was received with thunders of applause. 
 
358 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 There is no doubt, however, that, even by contem- 
 poraries, this book was more praised than read. To 
 wade through four goodly quarto volumes was a task 
 fitted to exhaust the patience of the most insatiable 
 devourer of romance that ever existed. A second and 
 last edition of it appeared about forty years later. 
 Nevertheless, this work is by far the best that Lohen- 
 stein ever wrote, and, notwithstanding its prolixity, 
 is to be preferred, in point of style, to all the other 
 romances that have been mentioned. 
 
 A quantity of these " Tales of State, Love, and 
 Heroism," as they were called, appeared. The most 
 expert fabricator in this line was August Bohse, or as 
 he called himself, Talander. Subsequently the historico- 
 political romance came into vogue, and continued to be 
 very popular for some forty years, or till about 1720. 
 It arose out of the secret statesmanship and diplomacy 
 which, owing to various causes, e.g. the example of 
 Lewis XIV., the establishment of the permanent Diet, 
 and the system of the European balance of power, now 
 became the order of the day. The diplomatic wisdom, 
 cabinet intrigues, political secrecy, grandiloquence, and 
 make-believe that prevailed in high places, were in 
 these romances acted over again in the most solemn 
 seriousness, generally under fictitious names. Pre- 
 sently they assumed the form of political geography, 
 and before long they became regular political chronicles. 
 One of the oldest is " Aeyquam, or the Great Mo- 
 gul," by one Hagdom, date 1670. Eberhard "Werner 
 Happel, of Upper Hessia, now made his appearance, 
 ■who got his living by wandering from place to place 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 359 
 
 writing bad books. In his "Asiatisoher Onogambo" 
 the loves of the Emperor Xunchius and other roaming 
 heroes are described, with the lands through which 
 they travelled. His " Insulanische MandoreU" gives 
 a geographical and historical description of certain 
 Islands where the scenes of the love adventures are laid. 
 Then there is his " Italienischer Spinelli ; " " Der 
 Spanische Quintana," 1686; "Der Franzosiche Cor- 
 mantin;" "Der Ottomanische Bajazet;" " Der Deutsche 
 Carl," containing the author's own love adventures; 
 with many others, partly by Happel, partly by E,ost 
 and others. 
 
 Next came the Robisonades, in imitation of De Foe's 
 romance, "Robinson Crusoe," which appeared in 1714. 
 Herein he perhaps had in view the adventures of two 
 or three different personages ; e. g. Serrano, a Spaniard^ 
 who was cast away on the island bearing his name in 
 the "West Indian Ocean, and Alexander Selcraig, or 
 Selkirk, who for five years lived on the solitary island 
 of Juan Fernandez. This work appeared in a German 
 translation in 1721, and elicited in Germany, as well 
 as throughout Europe, the greatest admiration and a 
 countless host of imitators. Between 1722 and 1755 
 more than forty Robinsons appeared in Germany, and 
 were read with frantic eagerness. There were the Ger- 
 man Robinson, the Italian Robinson, the clerical ditto ; 
 the Saxon, the Silesian, the Franconian Robinson ; two 
 Westphalian Robinsons at once ; the moral, the medi- 
 cinal, the invisible Robinson ; and even the Bohemian 
 Robinson. Then there was the European Roblnsonetta : 
 "Miss Robinson, or the cunning young maid;" "Ro- 
 
360 GERMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 * 
 
 bunse, with her daughter, Kobinschen," and so forth 
 The books are generally worse than the titles. After 
 this came the histories of the Avanturies, e. g. that 
 remarkable book, " Wunderliche Fata," &c. ; or, " The 
 marvellous fortunes of certain mariners, especially 
 Albertus Julius, a native of Saxony, who in his eigh- 
 teenth year went to sea, and with three others was 
 wrecked on a savage rock, after ascending which he 
 discovered a most beautiful country, where he married," 
 &c., by Gisandern. The author's real name was 
 Schnabel, and his book, which came out in four parts, 
 between 1731 and 1743, is better known under the 
 title of " Die Insel Felsenburg." It was re-edited in 
 1825, with an introduction by Tieck. This book was fol- 
 lowed by the Travelling Aventurier, the Curious Aven- 
 turier, the Swiss, Bremen, and Leipzig Aventuriers. 
 
 The passion for this sort of literature endured for 
 many years. In 1788 the last Robinsonade appeared, 
 under the title of " Wenzel von Erfurt ;" and about 
 the same period the old Robinson was contracted to 
 the dimensions of a child's story-book by Campe. The 
 ■tendency of all this literature was quite in keeping 
 with the Deism which had risen up in England and 
 France at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of 
 the eighteenth century. It was in keeping with the 
 strong inclination manifested everywhere to emanci- 
 pate oneself from everything historical and traditional ; 
 to begin life, so to say, afresh, with a new state of 
 society and civilisation. It corresponded with the 
 eager zeal then displayed for the palpable and natural, 
 as a counterbalance to the stiff conventionalism, to the 
 
THE NEW PERIOD, 361 
 
 powdered and be-peruked shams that lorded it over 
 society at large. The Eobinsonades and Aventuriers 
 effected in the masses of the reading world what Mon- 
 tesquieu and B-ousseau did in the learned world, in the 
 the world of rulers over Church and State. Visions 
 of a return to a state of nature long pervaded the com- 
 munity, and Lafontaine's " Child of Nature" is all of a 
 piece with the dreams of Robinson and Rousseau. To 
 the Robinsonian succeeded the Sentimental Romances. 
 After these, in the stormy times preceding the Revolu- 
 tion, the Romances of Knight-errantry and Robbers. 
 Next came the Family Romances, an apt exponent of 
 the political impotence of Germany, when she was by 
 necessity thrown back upon domestic subjects only. 
 And last came the Historical Romance, still in vogue. 
 From the above remarks the truth of the previous 
 assertion will appear — that for two centuries the dif- 
 ferent phases of Romance have faithfully reflected the 
 manners of the day. 
 
 But there is one romance which is generally con- 
 sidered the precursor of the Robinsonades, though in 
 many respects it surpasses them all. "We mean the 
 " Abenteuerliche Simplicissimus," which came out in 
 1669, i.e. twenty years after the thirty years' war, or 
 German war, as it was called ; and where the events of 
 that war are depicted with uncommon truth and life. 
 The hero of this poetical romance is brought up at the 
 house of a peasant in the deepest solitudes of the 
 Spessart Forest. And the shepherd lad's lonely life is 
 admirably portrayed. Then follow descriptions of the 
 marauding Swedes, their head-quarters at Hanau, the 
 
 R 
 
362 GERMAN LITEKATUEE. 
 
 movements of the troops, the bivouac ; and above all, 
 the forays of the Free companions in Westphalia, This 
 work is so fresh and genuine ; much of it is conceived 
 in so truly poetic a vein, that, with the exception of 
 Schuppius' writings, the seventeenth century can show 
 nothing comparable to it. The last book would have 
 been better omitted, according to the original plan of 
 the writer, as it bears strong evidences of the times in 
 which it was written. Indeed it is very astonishing 
 that the author of " Simplicissimus " could have con- 
 cocted such balderdash as " Proximus and Lympida.'' 
 His name whs Christopher von Grimmelshausen ; he 
 was a native of Gelnhausen, and magistrate at Eenchen 
 in the present Grand Duchy of Baden.* In " Simpli- 
 cissimus " he narrates his own personal experiences ; in 
 the other what he had learnt and picked up. Hence the 
 poetic life of the one, and the prosy flatness of the other. 
 Many editions of " Simplicissimus " have appeared. 
 Within the present century it was modernised by 
 Haken, and in 1836 by Biilow. 
 
 GOTTSCHED. 
 
 We have now arrived at a period when German 
 literature is to bloom once more. The flower, how- 
 ever, is not of spontaneous growth, as in the olden 
 
 * BHs name was only recently discovered, as he concealed it under 
 various anagrams, e. g. Samuel Greifnson vom Hirsehfeld, or Germann 
 Schleifheim von Sulsfort. The person who discovered it was Echter- 
 meyer, in 1838. " Hallische Jarbiicher," ] 838, Nos. 52-54. Grimmels- 
 hausen died 17th August, 1676. Compare " Passow, Blatter fiir lit. 
 Unterhaltung," 1843, Nos. 259-264; 1844, No. 119; 1847, No. 273. 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 363 
 
 times, but the hardly-earned product of much labour 
 and disappointment. In the former case, we wandered 
 over a heath full of exuberant wild flowers shooting up 
 at random from under the rock, or by the side of the 
 brook ; here we are in a garden, laboriously reclaimed 
 from the wilderness, with its spruce parterres, its gor- 
 geous flower-beds, its choice exotics. Art has been 
 made to emulate nature, but only by dint of manifold 
 experiments and infinite trouble. 
 
 But we must trace the operation more narrowly. 
 As we have seen, in the endeavour to get rid of the 
 bombast of the second Silesian School, poetry affected a 
 jejune simplicity ; and so became flat and washy. The 
 first step towards improvement, therefore, was to give 
 it pith and substance. New rules must be laid down ; 
 new models found for this purpose. Canitz as we 
 have seen, took the lead in the movement. Still, 
 the time-honoured fashion of elaborating mechanical 
 imitations in verse, not only of the Latin, but what 
 was still worse, of the inferior modem foreign writers, 
 was the great impediment to improvement. While this 
 lasted, the best ancient models, especially the Greeks, 
 were not to be thought of. As a first step in the right 
 direction, better modern models were introduced. The 
 inane operas of Italy, which had done so much mischief, 
 were discarded. The attention of the Germans was 
 directed to the French writers, Corneille, Eacine, 
 Moliere, and Boileau ; to Addison's and Steele's Spec- 
 tator, and to Milton. "Which of these two classes of 
 writers ought to be followed ; whether Germany should 
 take for her model the regularity of the French, or the 
 
 s2 
 
364 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 power of Milton ; this was the essence of that dispute 
 between Gottsched and Bo'dmer, which mainly served 
 to revive the poetic consciousness of Germany. 
 
 Johann Christoph Gottsched, a name which became 
 proverbial for haughtiness, bad taste, pedantry, and 
 vulgarity, was the chief of the party which cried up the 
 French and their regularity. The involuntary benefits 
 this man rendered German literature, by serving as a 
 whetstone to sharpen the wits, and provoke the anta- 
 gonism of other writers, were very great. Still, he 
 had other merits of his own, which have been obscured 
 by his ridiculous pedantry and affected airs. Regard 
 must be had to the peculiar times and circumstances in 
 which he was placed. He it was who, as Professor of 
 Eloquence at Leipzig, first made it his business to put 
 down the exclusive dominion hitherto enjoyed by Latin 
 verse-writing. He it was who first claimed for Ger- 
 man poetry a rank equal to, nay, greater than, that of 
 the Latin school-poetry. He it was who taught the 
 higher and more polished classes of the community that 
 French plays were by no means indispensable to the 
 boards, and showed them German pieces constru cted 
 on the same rules of composition, style, andjailguage 
 as the French ones. He it was who, after composing 
 several regular dramas, induced Neuber, the actress, at 
 Leipzig, in 1737, solemnly and formally to exile Hans- 
 wurst from the German stage. It is true that, in so 
 doing, the last remnant of the old popular vein was 
 thus banished the theatre ; but Hanswurst had become 
 a low and indecent Jack-pudding when Gottsched eX' 
 pelled him. Doubtless, the proper thing would havp 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 365 
 
 been to reform and ennoble this popular personage; 
 but to this task neither Gottscbed nor his contempo- 
 raries were equal. But, at all events, he restored 
 poetry, and especially the stage, to its proper attitude 
 (Haltung), although at first this was very stiff and 
 wooden. He introduced better models and fresh rules ; 
 although he was foolish enough to make these rules 
 the be-all and end-all of poetry. And it was this 
 crotchet that effected his downfall. Still, it must not 
 be forgotten, that in his " Kritische Dichtkunst," (Cri- 
 tical Art of Poetry,) which was received with much 
 favour on its publication in 1729, he laid down some 
 excellent rules about poetry. Again, his tragedy 
 " Der Sterbende Cato," (Dying Cato,) with its regular 
 earnest versification, put the first stop to the prosy gos- 
 siping miscalled tragedies, the stupid comedies, and 
 the sing-song operas that disgraced the boards. By his 
 literary periodicals*, moreover, he did much to awaken 
 a taste for German language and literature. His his- 
 torical account of older German theatrical pieces is use- 
 ful. Nor is his German grammar, unscientific as it is, 
 devoid of merit, considering what sort of treatises in 
 this line were written at that time. Gottsched was at 
 the height of his fame between 1730 and 1740 ; being 
 the sole dictator of German taste from his throne at 
 Leipzig. In 1740 began his dispute with Bodmer, 
 which ended in his utter discomfiture. Instead, how- 
 
 * His periodicals are, "Beitrage zur Krit. Historie der deutsehen 
 Sprache, Poesie, und Beredsamkeit," 1732-1744. "Neuer Biichersaal 
 der Schonen Wissensohaften," 1745-1754. "Das Neueste aus der 
 anmutigen Gelehrsamkeit," 1751-1762. 
 
 B 3 
 
366 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 ever, of acknowledging himself beaten, he some years 
 later, made an attack upon Klopstock, and then upon 
 Lessing, with the old and blunted weapons, and fell, in 
 consequence, into thorough contempt. He died in 
 1766. 
 
 The head of the English or Milton party was 
 Johann Jacob Bodmer of Zurich. In the management 
 of poetic forms he was perhaps inferior to Gottsched, 
 and certainly so in knowledge of the classical models. 
 What he surpassed Grottsched in was a just percep- 
 tion of the essence and true source of poetic art. He 
 knew that this must be lively, feeling, fresh, inartificial 
 fancy ; that poetry, in short, is a work of the imagina- 
 tion. This was the doctrine of Bodmer and his friend 
 Breitinger. It was in diametrical opposition, not only 
 to Gottsched, but to all the Latin school-poets of the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth century, and to the school of 
 Opitz, who held that poetry is an affair of the under- 
 standing, of calm deliberation, not of the fancy. Fancy 
 was looked up to by Gottsched's school, true to the dry 
 dulness of the "Wolfian philosophy, with an evil eye ; 
 as, in short, the mother of all sorts of irregularities and 
 follies. First learn the rules of poetry, said they, then 
 write poetry. In poetry the rules are everything. In 
 1721, Bodmer began his journal "Discourse der Ma- 
 lern," wherein he sought to imitate the style of the 
 " Spectator." But, for nearly nineteen years, his 
 influence on his contemporaries was hardly percept- 
 ible, and he was on excellent terms with Gottsched, 
 sharing with him in his worship of Opitz, and passing 
 encomiums on the " Sterbende Cato." 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 367 
 
 At last, in 1737, tlje irreconcilable difference of 
 opinion between the Swiss and the Saxons came out in 
 the estimate formed by the two parties respectively on 
 Milton's " Paradise Lost." The dry and Frenchified 
 Gottsched detested Milton from the bottom of his soul ; 
 and he attacked him in the second edition of his " Art 
 of Poetry" (1737) with the same weapons as Voltaire 
 had done. This attack he continued in his magazine, 
 " Contributions to the History of the German Lan- 
 guage." On this, 1740, Bodmer wrote his "Vom 
 Wunderbaren in der Poesie," which Gottsched, accus- 
 tomed to consider himself the sole arbiter of taste, 
 replied to with great vehemence. Bodmer rejoined 
 with his " Betrachtungen iiber die poetlschen Gemalde 
 der Diohter." The strife was now waged in various 
 periodicals by the two parties, with great earnestness, 
 not unmixed with ridicule and vulgar sarcasm. The 
 result of the fight was, that all the young and lively 
 talents of the age deserted Gottsched and espoused the 
 cause of Bodmer. Poeta nascitur, non Jit, was his 
 motto. He had shown that genuine poetry must be 
 imbued with the great and the sublime ; that it must 
 be natural, not artificial. Poetry must work, said he, 
 upon the reader and hearer, like grand pictures work 
 upon the beholder. And thus it was that he first set 
 going again that taste for poetry, which had been 
 dormant for more than a century. 
 
 While this battle was being fought out, other cir- 
 cumstances contributed to impair the authority of Gott- 
 sched. The rigour of his dictatorship, which he sought 
 to maintain by all sorts of mean expedients, had long 
 
 k4 
 
368 GERMAN LITEKATUEE. 
 
 become Insufferable at Leipzig, At last, in 1739, he 
 contrived to fall out with Madame Neuber, the direc- 
 tress of the Leipzig Theatre, who retaliated by intro- 
 ducing him on the stage, to the great delight of the 
 public ; while a young poet, named Kost, gave a 
 poetical account of the affair in a poem entitled " The 
 Prelude" (Das Vorspiel). At the same time Pyra, 
 also a Saxon, dealt him a mortal blow in a tract en- 
 titled " A Proof that Gottsched's Sect is a Corrupter 
 of Taste;" a position which he makes good by an 
 analysis of the "Dying Cato." Gottsched now pa- 
 tronised the most pitiful rhymesters more than ever, 
 declaring them to be incomparable poets ; the result 
 of which was that in the evening of his days he was 
 deserted. Goethe, who saw him, has given us a 
 graphic picture of his state of isolation. 
 
 Still in the lower ranks of polished society, as it was 
 called, Gottsched's Influence, combined as It was with 
 the French school of poetry, made itself long felt even 
 after his death. People of mediocre understanding liked 
 the mediocre style of Gottsched; It flattered their powers 
 of comprehension. They and their Idol set their faces 
 against anything rising above the common-place, and 
 stigmatised it as extravagant and eccentric. Gottsched 
 talked of Klopstock (he always called him Klopfstock, 
 asserting that his very name had a blunder in It,) as the 
 " seraphic poet with the misralmic ideas." It Is this 
 antipoetic disposition of his, according as It did with 
 the tastes of so many, that prevented Lessing, and 
 then Goethe, from exercising that influence on the 
 nation that might have been expected. The fact was. 
 
. THE IJEAV PERIOD. S69 
 
 that their poetry fell upon ground that had been 
 stamped hard by Gottsched and his crew. 
 
 Bodmer's adherents were of a worthier order : Klop- 
 stock, Wieland, who, however, afterwards fell away 
 from him, and Goethe. He died at the age of eighty- 
 four, 2d Jjinuary, 1783, having lived long enough to 
 witness the triumph of the ideas which he advocated, 
 a triumph which went beyond his fondest hopes. To 
 the end of his life he was open to the impressions of 
 poetry, and took a friendly interest in the progress of 
 the new school. It was only in maturer years that he 
 was incited by the young Klopstock to attempt writing 
 poetry himself. His " Noachide," an epic on the 
 Deluge, is a failure ; indeed, he wrote no poetry worth 
 mentioning. But, though no poet himself, he well 
 knew what genuine poetry is. He it was who first 
 recognised the worth of the old masters, and used his 
 best endeavours to make them better known and 
 esteemed by his countrymen. Germany has to thank 
 him for the first edition of " Boner's Fables," for the 
 first edition of the " Minnesingers," (it was the only 
 one till 1838,) for the discovery and publication of the 
 " Nibelungenlied," and for the preparation towards an 
 edition of "Parcival." But though he' thus stirred up 
 the love of national poetry, it m.ust not be inferred that 
 he was fully aware of the true merits of these pieces. 
 Indeed, the time was as yet unable to appreciate them 
 jis they deserved. 
 
 But we must not pass over Gottsched's followers in 
 entire silence. His wife, Luise Adelgunde Victorie, 
 nee Kulmus, was his faithful fellow-labourer in the field 
 
 H 5 
 
370 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 of literature. She translated plays from the French, 
 and Pope's " Eape of the Lock ;" wrote original plays, 
 and had a literary correspondence and disciples of her 
 own. In flexibility and versatility of mind she was 
 far superior to her pedantic and precise husband, and 
 not less so in poetic, taste. The best thing she has left 
 us are her letters. 
 
 When Gottsched's popularity was far on the wane, 
 he met with a young lieutenant of Cuirassiers in whom 
 he thought he had discovered just the man to put for- 
 ward as a successful rival to Klopstock and his party. 
 This was Christoph Otto von Schonaich, a scion of the 
 princely house of Schonaich-Carolath-Beuthen. He 
 had just written an heroic poem, " Herman oder das 
 befreite Deutschland " (Herman, or the Liberation of 
 Germany). This, Gottsched hastened to present to 
 Voltaire, in manuscript, hoping to coax from him an 
 opinion in favour of it. The poem was then printed 
 with copper-plate illustrations, and dedicated to Wil- 
 liam VIII. of Hessia, and a preface was added by 
 Gottsched, extolling it to the skies. The poem is 
 written in trochaics, and the first eight lines have a 
 good deal of patriotic freshness about them. It 
 begins : — 
 
 " Von dem Helden will ioh slngen, dessen Arm sein Volk besohiitzt, 
 Dessen Schwert auf Deutschlands Peinde fiir sein Vaterland 
 geWitzt." 
 " I -will sing you of the hero, whose right arm his people saved, 
 'Gainst the foemen of his country, whose bright blade like light- 
 ning waved." 
 
 The rest of the poem is miserably weak and heavy. 
 In spite of this, a second edition appeared in 1753, a 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 371 
 
 third in 1760, and, which is almost incredible, a fourth 
 in 1805, the year of Schiller's death. The poet was 
 solemnly crowned by Gottsched; and further served 
 his patron by a satire on Bodmer and Klopstook. The 
 title of this is, " The whole Doctrine of JEsthetics in a 
 Nutshell," &c. The dedication runs " To the Creator 
 of Spirit, the Seer, the new Evangelist, the Dreamer, 
 the divine Saint Klopstock, the Theologian ; also to the 
 Bard of the Deluge, the Patriarchal Poet, the Kabbini- 
 cal Story-teller, the Father of the Misraimio and Holy 
 Art of Poetry, Bodmer, this collection of new accents 
 is dedicated by the Collectors." This squib was in- 
 tended to ridicule Klopstock's overloaded language in 
 the " Messiah," which Gottsched looked on as perfectly 
 monstrous. The satire is not without force. But at 
 the time it only served to plunge Gottsched and Scho- 
 naich into disgrace. Schonaich's name became a by- 
 word for a bad rhymer ; but he survived all his enemies 
 as well as his friends, — Gottsched, Lessing, Bodmer, 
 Klopstook, Gleim, Herder, and even Schiller,-^dying on 
 the 15th November, 1807. Another of Gottsched's 
 partisans was Nauman, the author of an heroic poem 
 " Nimrod," who in length of days rivalled Schonaich. 
 Another was Schwabe, who tried to unite the forces 
 of the party in a periodical " Belustigungen des Ver- 
 standes und Witzes ;" but without success. He also 
 wrote a famous satire, " The Ink-stand filled full," in 
 the Bodmer controversy ; while another satire of his, 
 " The Critical Almanach," is said to have been the 
 death of Pyra, mentioned above. 
 
 Two poets and one satirist now remain to be men- 
 E 6 
 
372 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 tioned, who took no part in the Bodmer controversy, 
 but were, notwithstanding, instrumental in bringing 
 about the new period. 
 
 Albrecht von Haller* was one of the brightest orna- 
 ments of the University of Gottingen. In his youth 
 he was smitten with the Lohenstein poetry ; but by the 
 force of his intellect, perhaps, too, from the circum- 
 stance of his being out of the atmosphere of Saxony 
 and Silesia, — he got rid of his fetters, and at the age 
 of one and twenty entered upon another line. Like 
 Bodmer, he selected the English for his models, — 
 chiefly their moral, philosophical, and descriptive poems. 
 He was urged to this by DroUinger. The object he 
 continually keeps in view is the culture and education 
 of national life. Though now and then a trope re- 
 minds us of the Lohenstein leaven, yet, on the whole, 
 his style is succinct and close. Much of his writings 
 turns upon the highest problems of knowledge and 
 belief— the origin of evil; wherein he follows the 
 " Theodieee" of Leibnitz. Still, he did for poetry 
 what it was eminently in need of. He rescued it from 
 the follies in which it had floundered for so many years, 
 taught it to rise to noble thoughts and aspirations, and 
 infused into it a tincture of genuine feeling ; and 
 therefore we may consider Haller as not belongino- to 
 the transition period, but as the beginner of the new 
 period. In the didactic line he had many followers ; 
 the best known is Creutz, the author of " The Graves." 
 
 * Born at Berne, 1708 ; from 1737 to 1753, Professor of Medicine at 
 Gottingen; from 1753 to his death, 12th December, 1777, resided at 
 Berne, as director of the Bex Saltworks. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 37S 
 
 Haller's chief poem is " The Alps." Its descriptions of 
 nature are truthful, and may be said to resuscitate a 
 long-forgotten art. 
 
 As Groethe has remarked, it was Haller's great sci- 
 entific reputation that helped to make his influence 
 on poetry so sensibly felt. He also thoroughly routed 
 that most offensive class?' the occasional rhymers of 
 the day. 
 
 The next poet is Friedrich von Hagedom*, the only 
 poet of those times who still lives in the mouth and 
 memory of Germany. As a fable-writer, he has been 
 followed by Gellert, Lichtwer, Zacharia, and Pfeffel. 
 He is the poet of social pleasure and contentment ; 
 the writer of Anacreontics in the fashion of Horace. 
 Uz, Gleim, Wieland, and many others, trod in his foot- 
 steps. In early life he was a follower of Brookes, and 
 wrote moral pieces and epigrams. In fluency of style 
 and ease of description, few German writers excel 
 Hagedorn. In him we remark the direct influence of 
 Horace, and the first good fruit that German poetry 
 had ever shown of its two centuries-long study of clas- 
 sical philology. Self-reliant and averse to controversy, 
 he would have nothing to do with the dispute between 
 the Swiss and the Leipzigers. But there are proofs 
 enough in his poems that he inclined more to Bodmer 
 than Gottsched. Three of his pieces are still univer- 
 sally known : the fable, " A hungry Hen found a 
 
 * Hagedorn was born at Hamburg, 1 708 ; died there, 28th October, 
 1754. Like Klopstooli afterwards, he led a life of literary leisure, which 
 was a seductive ideal for later poets. A thorough treatise on Hagedorn 
 by K. Sohmitt, is to be found in Henneberger's "Jahrbuch," 1855, 
 p. 62-110. 
 
374 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 fine Diamond ; " his May-song, " The Nightingale's 
 ravishing lays are sounding so charming again;" and, 
 above all, his " John, the merry Soap-boiler," which he 
 confesses to have borrowed from Burkard Waldis. 
 
 The satirist above alluded to is Christian Ludwig 
 Liscow, of Lubeck, the friend of Hagedorn. Most of 
 his satires are directed against private individuals; but 
 this very circumstance gives them a truth and a sharp- 
 ness which Eabener's don't possess. The sarcasm is, 
 perhaps, on the whole, monotonous ; but it is generally 
 very telling. Although he directs his shafts against 
 obscure individuals, yet these in reality represent very 
 important contemporary phenomena. In the person of 
 Sievers, for instance, he is really attacking the swarms 
 of pufiFed-up ignoramuses, e.g. the Orthodoxians and 
 Wolfians, who, in their struggles against the Pietists, 
 and the inroads of Deism, betrayed their utter incapa- 
 city for the task. Nevertheless, the fact of their being 
 aimed at private individuals of little mark, has impaired 
 the estimation of Liscow's satires in the eyes of the 
 public, and brought personal satire generally into dis- 
 repute. Hence the care taken by Eabener to say that 
 " he does not allude to any individual in particular ; " 
 hence, too, the vapid generalism of his satires. Liscow's 
 best satire, " Das Lob der Schlechten Scribenten," is 
 conceived in more general terms. It is this which 
 marks him as the man of the Future. But he was soon 
 forgotten; while Kabener, though vastly his inferior, 
 was preferred before him. He died in 1760 ; and al- 
 though several critics, entitled to speak with authority, 
 have called attention to his merits, and his satires have 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 375 
 
 been re-edlted by Miiohler, yet at present lie is very 
 little known.* 
 
 There are not a few other poets belonging to this pe- 
 riod who, albeit sprung from Gottsched's school, either 
 soon left him for another master, e.g. Klopstock, or 
 though outwardly still adhering to the party of Gott- 
 sched, yet in reality took up an independent position. 
 
 One of Gottsched's most trusty retainers was Joachim 
 Schwabe, who died at Leipzig, while Professor of 
 philosophy in the University there. In the year 1741 
 (as we mentioned above, p. 371), he had set up a 
 magazine in the interests of his master, " Belustigungen 
 des Verstandes und Witzes " (Recreations of Under- 
 standing and Wit). A number of Gottsched's young 
 disciples joined in the undertaking, Gellert, Eabener, 
 Gartner, Kastner, and others. Disgusted however, 
 with the iron despotism of Gottsched, who, just as the 
 whim suited him, would patronise the most tasteless 
 botchers as well as themselves, many of these youths 
 severed themselves from him entirely, and set up a 
 periodical of their own. Into this no article was 
 admitted until it had been examined by a committee 
 of themselves, and improved or altered as might be 
 thought expedient. Their president was Karl Chris- 
 
 * The opinions on Liscow are as diverse now as ever. Gervinus 
 (" Neuere Gesehichte," &e., i. 60) says, that he " far excels Eabener in 
 manliness, courage, solidity, and feeling," and that " his style, true to that 
 of the French, is precise, and devoid of fancy, but pure and bold ;" an 
 opinion in which Vilmar coincides. W. Wackernagel, on the other hand, 
 " Lesebuch," iii. 2, p. ix., says his writings are " tedious pasquinades." 
 Concerning the events of Liscow's enigmatical career, compare Helbig, 
 " C. R. Liscow," 1844, and Lisch, " Liscow's Leben," 1 845. 
 
376 GERMAN LITBEATUEE. 
 
 tian Gartner (who died at Brunswick in 1791, near 
 eighty years old). Though not the best poet, he was 
 the best critic among them. Next to him stood Cra- 
 mer, and Adolf Schlegel, the father of the brothers 
 Schlegel. And thus it was that in the year 1742, a 
 new weekly periodical saw the light, which made quite 
 an epoch in literature, " Neue Beitrage zum Vergniigen 
 des Verstandes und "Witzes " (New Contributions to the 
 recreation of Wit and Understanding). This publica- 
 tion, which appeared at Bremen, and was, therefore, 
 also called " Bremische Beitrage," was the first that was 
 expressly intended for female readers. Kabener soon 
 joined the new party, then Arnold Schmidt, Ebert, and 
 Zacharia ; later Gellert and Giseke ; also Hagedorn and 
 Gleim, and lastly Klopstock ; the three first cantos of 
 whose " Messiah" appeared in the pages of the periodical. 
 
 The most distinguished person of this school was 
 Christian Fiirchtegott Gellert.* Passing over his 
 Lectures on Moral Philosophy, we shall here consider 
 him as a writer of dramas, romances, fables, and church 
 
 * Born at Hainiehen, near Freiburg, in Saxony, 4th July, 1715. 
 Magister at Leipzig ; and from 1761 to 1769, Extraordinary Professor 
 of Philosophy. He died 13th December of that year. His fables and 
 tales first appeared in the " Eelustigungen des Verstandes und Witzes," 
 1743; a better collection in 1746, 1748, and 1751. Many, however, as 
 for instance, "Der Informator," and " Hans Nord," appeared first in the 
 " Lehrgedichte und Erzalungen," 1754. These fables and tales were 
 soon disseminated throughout Europe. Five or six French translations 
 came out; besides which, they were rendered into Italian, Danish, 
 Russian, &c. His fifty-four religious poems were published In 1767 ; 
 and in the preface we see the author's great veneration for the old church 
 hymn. The latest edition of his works appeared 1840. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 377 
 
 hymns. His dramas are thoroughly Gottschedian in 
 taste. The only difference is, that here and there there 
 is somewhat more flexibility of dialogue. The matter 
 is in the homely Little-Pedlington style. Your Damons 
 and Orgons with their respectable wives, who bore the 
 reader to death. His romance, " The Swedish Coun- 
 tess," hardly yields a jot even to the Aventuriers 
 in strangeness and improbability of plot, while its lec- 
 turing tone Is not to be borne. 
 
 As a fable-writer Gellert ranks higher, though by 
 no means so high as the great popularity of his fables 
 and tales would indicate. In form they, almost without 
 exception, follow Gottsched ; the great end and aim of 
 whose poetry (as of Wolfs philosophy) was clearness. 
 In straining to be clear, Gellert becomes over clear 
 and loquacious, and thus degenerates into flatness and 
 common-place. In him we don't find a particle of the 
 poetry of nature. His beasts are only men in dis- 
 guise-; men and women dressed a-la-mode. If we do 
 laugh it is not the tedious wit, but rather the grimace 
 accompanying it, that provokes our laughter. How, 
 then, came it to pass that these fables met with such 
 universal applause, that men like Wieland and Goethe 
 undertook to defend them from animadversion ? For, as 
 to the absence of poetry in them, Goethe, Herder, 
 Lessing, and the modern critics are agreed. In the 
 first place, the estimation in which Gellert's fables were 
 held is due, in a great measure, to his high personal quali- 
 ties, which are clearly impressed in many of these fables. 
 So pure and noble was his character, so imposing, and 
 yet withal so mild and unpretending,. that an attack 
 
378 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 upon his poetry would for thirty years after his death 
 have been considered high treason. In the fables of 
 Gellert the public saw and loved Gellert the man, — a 
 love which still continued so long as the tradition of his 
 goodness lived in the memory of the people. But there 
 was also another cause for his popularity. Gellert's 
 fables are just the sort of thing to interest unpoetical 
 matter of fact people, who look upon poetry merely as 
 making comprehensible in a picture what otherwise it 
 is not easy to comprehend. With them poetry Is 
 nought, if there is not something tangible about it ; if 
 it does not confer some practical solid benefit ; if, in 
 short, it is not as plain as a pike-staflf. Gellert's 
 poetry taught them something ; they profited by it. 
 It is schoolboy diet, the diet of beginners and learners. 
 It is a step to improvement, and in this light it was 
 viewed and defended by Goethe. 
 
 Gellert's spiritual songs were no less popular, and 
 continue to be so to the present day. They .have 
 even been used as church hymns, though they hardly 
 exhibit a vestige of the old Evangelical hymn. 
 Written in the lecturing, instructing style of the 
 Gottsched school, they are more didactic songs for the 
 people, than Christian songs of joy and woe emanating 
 from the people ; and that is the reason why they have 
 never gone home to the heart of the masses. Cold and 
 passionless, instead of praising the deeds of the Almighty, 
 they are for ever occupied with man and his struggles, 
 his good resolutions and bad fulfilments, and, at the 
 best, only rise into the form of contemplative prayer. 
 Like the fables, they owed much to the personal repu- 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 379 
 
 tation of the writer ; more, perhaps, to the spirit of the 
 age, which began to regard Christianity less as a fact 
 than a doctrine. They do not, like the fables, indicate 
 a step towards improvement, the beginning of some- 
 thing better; but the commencement of that utter 
 decay, which, soon after Gellert, overtook the Evan- 
 gelical Church hymn. 
 
 Gellert's successors in the Church hymn were 
 Johann Andreas Cramer and Johann Adolf Schlegel, 
 the middle of the three brothers Schlegel. Cramer 
 also wrote odes, wherein he approaches rather to 
 Elopstock. The remaining German fable- writers may 
 as well be mentioned here, as, strangely enough, they 
 are almost entirely disconnected with the progress of 
 poetic culture, and are, for the most part, after the 
 Gottsched-Hagedorn cut. Next after Gellert is Magnus 
 Gottfried Lichtwer.* His fables were called by Johann 
 
 * Lichtwer was born at "Wnrzen, 1719; died at Halberstadt, 1783. 
 His fables first appeared 1748 ; an improved edition, 1758 and 1762; 
 a new edition, 1828. Johann Gottlieb Willaraov, of Morungen, in East 
 Prussia, died at St. Petersburg, 1777; his feblcs in dialogue appeared 
 1765. Johann Benjamin Michaelis died at Halberstadt in 1772, when 
 twenty-six years old ; his poems, consisting of fables, songs, and satires, 
 appeared in 1768, and indicate much immature talent Gottlieb Wilhelm 
 Burmann, of Hirschberg, in Silesia, lived an eccentric life at Berlin. 
 Gottlieb Konrad Pfeffel, of Colmar, where he long had an educational 
 establishment, became blind at twenty-one years of age ; he died 1809. 
 His fables, which are mostly imitations from the French, were written 
 1762-1774 ; also some more in 1783. He was the representative of the 
 jejune enlightenment of the day. After him, fable was long quiescent, 
 untU it was revived by Abraham Emanuel Prbhlich (bom at Bragg, in 
 the Aargau, 1796); a priest of Aarau. His febles were published in 
 1825, and are imbued with a real spirit of poetry. He also wrote other 
 poems, and may be pronounced one of the truest and deepest singers of 
 modern times, 
 
380 GEilMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 V. Miiller " Gellertian Professors of Morality." This 
 is not true. There is often much originality and life 
 about them ; and so much individuality and truth in 
 some of the pictures from animal life, that they almost 
 look like fragments of the old animal-epic. These 
 fables are often spoilt by the moral appended to the 
 end. Thus the celebrated one of " The Cat and the 
 Master of the House " is spoilt by the moral of the 
 broken mirror, and the evil effects of blind zeal. 
 Others more in the narrative style are excellent, e. g. 
 « Die Seltsamen Menschen," and " Der Kleine Toffel." 
 The first edition of these fables was recommended by 
 Gottsched. It was this, perhaps, that led Lessing 
 and Eammler into an extraordinary literary misde- 
 meanour. Unknown to the author they rewrote 
 sixty-five out of Lichtwer's hundred fables, and pub- 
 lished them under bis name, of course to his great 
 chagrin. One effect, however, of this proceeding was, 
 that in the next edition he introduced considerable 
 improvements. 
 
 Lichtwer was succeeded by Willamov, who wrote 
 fables in dialogue ; then by Michaelis, Burmann, and 
 Zacharia, who, like Hagedorn and Gellert, followed 
 Burkard Waldis, and other older writers. Next comes 
 Pfeffel, who at first imitated Gellert, but afterwards 
 Elorian. He and Gellert are the only fable-writers 
 who have got into the hands of children ; and yet 
 Gellert is not so decidedly superior to any of the other 
 fable- writers ; nay, in many points he is unquestionably 
 below Lichtwer and Burmann. Pfeffel, too, surpasses 
 him in expression, though not in matter;, while the 
 
THE NEW PERIOD, 381 
 
 former's views of life are as dry and insipid as they 
 can be. 
 
 Another branch of this Saxon School was Rabener, 
 the satirist, who was briefly mentioned above in con- 
 nexion with Liscow. The performances of this man 
 bear no sort of proportion to his high reputation. This 
 rested on pretty much the same basis as we have seen 
 Gellert's did. He wrote what the dullest people would 
 find amusement in. He confined himself to the lower 
 circles of society, with their paltry and insignificant 
 follies ; never ascending to the higher regions, where it 
 would have perhaps been not so easy for his readers 
 to follow him. For instance, he never refers to the 
 contest between the poetical schools, then raging ; 
 never alludes to the struggle going on between national 
 life and the prevailing French culture, and the vices of 
 the latter, so glaringly manifest among the higher 
 classes. But it was this very timidity, this limited 
 sphere to which he confined himself, that made him 
 popular with the many, who seldom know what real 
 satire is, and still seldomer can endure it ; while they 
 set uncommon store by wit of the conventional sort. 
 In the dull squireens, informers, lady's maids, misers, 
 and schoolmasters of Rabener we behold the triumph 
 of Gottschedian proslness and dry common-place. His 
 writings are a striking testimony to the fact that 
 immoralities and absurdities, common, with slight varia- 
 tion, to all times, are not the proper subjects for satire, 
 The follies peculiar to a particular age and race, 
 the particular mania with which the most exalted of 
 the nation are bitten : the struggle between two dia- 
 
382 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 metrically different worlds of culture ; such must be the 
 theme of poetic satire. Something great, in short, 
 universal, distinctive. A satirist that has no eye to 
 observe this sort of thing, or, like Rabener, no courage 
 to attack it, has nothing left to talk about but the petty 
 weaknesses and meannesses of the everyday world. 
 Hence the tameness that pervades his vrritings. In- 
 deed, many of the squibs and lampoons that appeared 
 on the subject of the Bodmer and Gottsched contro- 
 versy are much more like real satire than the so-called 
 satires of the Saxon Commissioner of Taxes.* 
 
 Another poet who has been greatly over-rated was 
 Justus Friedrich Wilhelm Zacharia.j Zacharia ex- 
 hibited much poetic precocity, and at the early age 
 of eighteen brought out the " Comic Epopoea," as he 
 called it, in the manner of Pope. Gottsched took the 
 young student by the hand, and in 1744 a well-known 
 production of his appeared in Schwabe's periodical, 
 ''Recreations," &c. This was the "Eennomist," in 
 which a lively picture is drawn of the doings of the 
 students of Jena, their brutality, beer-drinking, sword- 
 whetting, and beating the watchmen ; and this in the 
 traditionary style of epic poetry. There is very little 
 
 * Gottlieb Wilhelm Eabener, born at Wachau, in Saxony, 1714; 
 died at Dresden, 1771. He began his career as a satirist in 1737, -with 
 his only metrical piece, "Beweis dass die Reime unentbehrlich sind." 
 His other satires came out chiefly between 1742 and 1748, in the "Be- 
 lustigungen des Terstandes," and in the "Bremische Beitrage." He 
 published a collective edition, 1751; and between then and 1777, his 
 works went through eight editions. 
 
 t Bom at Frankenhausen, 1726; died, a Professor at Brunswick, 1777. 
 He flourished from 1744 to 1763. His "Fabeln uud Erziilimgen in 
 Bureard Waldis Manier" appeared later, viz. 1771. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 383 
 
 of the comic In these pages. The best part of them are 
 the scenes of student-life, Not that there is a grain of 
 poetry in them ; but the circumstance that people had 
 long been accustomed to an absence of all truth in 
 description obtained for them a popularity which in 
 poetical times would not have fallen to their lot. "Die 
 Verwandlungen," another epopcea of his, appeared in 
 the periodical called the " Bremische Beitrage," while 
 others came out in a separate form, e g. " Schnupf- 
 tuch " (a variation of Pope's " Eape of the Lock "), 
 " Phaeton," and " Murner in der Holle." Both these 
 are not in the rhymed Alexandrine, hitherto in vogue, 
 but in the Klopstock Hexameter. All these poems 
 are very stupid, and still more so the two following 
 descriptive pieces, which long enjoyed a high re- 
 pute : " Die Tageszeiten," in imitation of Kleist's 
 " Spring," full of forced poetic descriptions, and what 
 is worse, of the oddest digressions; and the "Four 
 Ages of Woman." 
 
 Abraham Gotthelf Kastner adhered to Gottsched 
 during that poet's lifetime, and afterwards abstained 
 from joining any of the new Schools of Poetry. But 
 in no respect can he be considered as one of the regular 
 Gottsched School. He enjoyed a high reputation in 
 the literary world, and was, moreover, a staunch oppo- 
 nent of the novel ideas in Church and State then 
 prevalent. His poems are chiefly didactic; but it is 
 with his epigrams that we have here to do. About 
 half of them appeared in Gottsched's periodicals, the 
 rest were written at a later period. In 1781 an edition 
 of them appeared at Darmstadt, by Hopfner, contrary 
 
384 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 to the wishes of the author ; another by Justi, with his! 
 consent, in 1800, the year in which he died. His 
 epigrams are excellent. We will mention a few. That 
 on Kepler ; on the battle of Rossbach (Gra3c^ Hippo- 
 crene) ; on the poet growing old ; and on the motto, 
 "Non datur vacuum." It is against Klopstock and 
 his manner that the following lines are directed : — 
 
 " So toll erhaten Gewasoh in reimlos ametrisohen Zeilen ; 
 Seh ich f iir Verse nlcht an, mir ist es rasende prosa.'' 
 
 " Such madly exalted -wish-wash, in lines without metre, and rhyme- 
 less, 
 I don't think are verses at all, but only some prose run distracted." 
 
 Bodmer's eccentricities, e.g. his writing y for the 
 German ii, and printing his works in Latin letters, 
 came in for a share of his sarcasm. The hardness and 
 emptiness of his style are also attacked in the following 
 epigram: — 
 
 " Seht die epischen Zeilen, frei vom Masse der Sylbeu 
 Frel vom Zwange des Eeims, hart wie Zyrchische Verse, 
 Leer wie Meisnisohe Eeime ; Seht, der glycliliche Kynstler 
 !Fyllt die rijmisohen Lettern, wie pythagorisohen y y 
 Zum Ermyden des Lesers, besser zu nytzende Bogen." 
 
 There are also two good epigrams of his, ridiculing 
 the fantastic dreams of freedom in the days of the Ee- 
 volution. One is headed " Freiheitserklarung," the 
 other " Allemands grands Admirateurs." 
 
 Three weeks before his death, at the age of eighty- 
 one, Kastner wrote his own epitaph, " Von miih und 
 arbeit voll," &c., which is more remarkable for its 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. '385 
 
 Christian spirit than for any literary merit. Rendered 
 into English, it runs thus : — 
 
 " Full of pains and labours, my life lasted long ; 
 Yet rejoicing withal in His service, ■who lent me power ; 
 Believing in the Son, who gave Himself for ns, 
 And of good cheer, I pass into eternity.'' 
 
 A few words here on Johanu Arnold Ebert, of 
 Hamburg, who, like Zacharia, resided subsequently 
 in Brunswick. It is chiefly as the representative of 
 English literature in North Germany, as Bodmer had 
 been in South Germany and Switzerland, that he is 
 remarkable. But he did much more than Bodmer ; 
 he translated for the " Bremische Beitrage," Glover's 
 "Leonidas," and, in 1760, Young's " Night Thoughts," 
 which for a great many years exercised an extraordi- 
 nary influence on the reading public of Germany. Soon 
 after, he gave to the world translations of Eichardson's 
 novels, " Grandison " and " Pamela," and then of " Os- 
 sian." For a long time German literature was deeply 
 infected with the peculiarities of this sort of writing ; 
 its affectation of profound thought, its exquisiteness, 
 its diffuseness,'its touching sentimentality. Indeed, 
 the sentimental period, of which more anon when Wer~ 
 ' ther comes to be discussed, is intimately connected 
 with these importations from England. 
 
 Lastly, the dramatists of this era of preparation de- 
 mand our notice, with the two Schlegels at their head. 
 The youngest of the three brothers, Heinrich Schlege], 
 only translated English pieces. He it was who, toge- 
 
 S 
 
3S6 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 ther with Ebert, spread the taste for English literature 
 in Jforth Germany. He also superseded the Alexan- 
 drine by the Iambic of five feet ; which Lessing after- 
 wards used in his drama of " Nathan," and by this 
 means brought it into general vogue. Schiller likewise 
 made use of it in his tragedies. 
 
 But to revert to the two elder brothers. Of these, 
 the eldest, Johann Elias Schlegel, is the foremost re- 
 presentative of the pre-Lessingian drama. From his 
 example we learn, what an enthusiasm for national 
 literature Gottsched, dry and wooden though he was, 
 managed to awaken in the breast of the German youth. 
 The reason of which is, that Gottsched's reforms 
 touched exactly that point where it was most acutely 
 and universally felt that reforms were wanting, viz. the 
 Drama. While a schoolboy at Pforta, Schlegel used 
 to write dramas and act them with his school-fellows. 
 As he grew up he continued the pursuit with the 
 greatest ardour, incited thereto by Gottsched, who in- 
 troduced some of his plays upon the Leipzig boards. 
 These plays, which met with unmeasured praise from 
 all sides, are, no doubt, better than Gottsched's. The 
 comedies have more life about them ; but still they are 
 very tedious, the " Miissiganger " especially ; the " Ge- 
 heimnissvoUe " less so. Of the tragedies, " Kanut " 
 only need be mentioned. Their fault is deficiency of 
 action and superfluity of talk ; poetry they have none. 
 Schlegel died in 1749, in the thirty-first ye^r of his 
 age, of over-much work. Many of his contemporaries 
 succumbed in the same manner, e. g. Lessing's friend, 
 Mylius ; Von Br awe, at the age of twenty ; and Von 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 387 
 
 Cronegk, at six and twenty. The latter's tragedy of 
 " Codrus " did not appear till 1757. It is an imitation 
 from the French, though at the time it was praised for 
 its incomparable orginality. We here have a painful 
 example of the unsteady, indefinite manner in which 
 the dramatic writers cast about them for a subject ; 
 now disinterring something from the distant past, and 
 tricking it out with modern patchwork to render it 
 palatable; now drawing upon the most trivial produc- 
 tions of the present. 
 
 Although a hundred years have elapsed since then, 
 Germany has not advanced much in the drama, in spite 
 of the teaching of Lessing, and Goethe, and Schiller. 
 
 Christian Felix Weisse* is a dramatist, who, though 
 of later date, yet in the main wrote in the style of the 
 older Saxon (Gottsched) school. At all events, he 
 does not follow Lessing, although he was long intimate 
 with him. His earliest and best works were written 
 at the time when Gottsched, though already beaten, 
 was still prolonging his contest with the Swiss and with 
 the followers of Klopstock. It was reserved for Weisse 
 to give him the coup de grace. At the instance of Les- 
 sing he first essayed comedy, and with some success. 
 In 1749 his " Matrone von Ephesus," and his " Leicht- 
 glaubige," were favourite pieces. In 1752 he gained 
 great applause by his " Die verwandelten Weiber oder 
 
 * Bom 28th January, 1726, at Annaberg ; died, as Upper Secretary 
 of Taxes, at Dresden, 16th December, 1804. He flourished, as poet, 
 from 1750 to 1770. From 1760 to 1795, he edited the " Bibliothek der 
 Wissenschaften," &c., a periodical which, together with Wielaud's 
 " Merkur,'' and Nicolai's " Deutsche Bibliothek," -was the oracle of 
 ssthetics. 
 
 8 2 
 
388 GEKMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 der Teufel 1st los," taken from the English piece, " The 
 DevU to Pay," This is now forgotten, all but the 
 song in it, " Ohne Lieb und ohne Wein was war unser 
 Leben." This play put Gottsched in an incredible 
 passion. In his " Buchersaal " he attacked his former 
 pupil, Weisse, as a young man who, with unheard-of 
 audacity, was undoing all the good he (Gottsched) had 
 done towards improving public taste. Not content with 
 this, he assailed Dieskau, the Directeur des Plaisirs at 
 Dresden, with the most earnest importunities, not to 
 permit Weisse's play to be acted. His petition was 
 written in most comical French, and was published by 
 the other party, for which Gottsched brought an action 
 'against them. Host, whose attack on Gottsched in the 
 " Vorspiel " has already been mentioned, also known 
 for his licentious pastorals, put the whole transaction 
 into doggerel verse under the title, " Schreiben des 
 Teufels an Herrn Gottsched, Kunstrichter der Leip- 
 ziger Schaubiihne." The effect of this squib was 
 indescribable. But what made the joke still better 
 was, that Count Briihl, of Dresden, to whom Eost was 
 private secretary, and to whom Gottsched preferred 
 complaints of the treatment he had received, made the 
 luckless victim read the squib, of which he complained, 
 in his presence. From that day Gottsched was extinct 
 in a literary sense, and it was Weisse who had brought 
 about the catastrophe. The next play he wrote was 
 the"Lustige Schuster," also from the English — the 
 verses in which, " Minister flicken am Staate," are still 
 known. Then followed " Poeten nach der Mode," a 
 weak affair, but which was so far of importance that 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. S89; 
 
 it attacked the parties both of Gottsched and Klop-; 
 stock. From this date the latter party cut his ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 The merit of these plays is that their language is more 
 pliant and flexible, more suited to comedy, than had 
 hitherto been the fashion. They took with the middle 
 classes even more than the comedies of Lessing, which 
 appeared at the same time, although they can hardly 
 in any respect be compared with them. Subsequently 
 "Weisse attempted tragedy. He wrote " Edward III." 
 and " Richard III." The latter of these was an uncom- 
 mon favourite, although full of Frenchified phrase and 
 mouthing — quite, in fact, in the antiquated Gottsched 
 style, which Lessing attacks in his "Dramaturgy." 
 His " Romeo and Juliet " won still greater laurels. It 
 is from other sources beside Shakspeare, and this to its 
 manifest disadvantage. His last tragedy was " Jean 
 Galas," a piece replete with emotions, exclamations, and 
 exaffgerations. Between his " E-ichard" and " Romeo" 
 his operettas intervened, which, unfortunately, were 
 long in vogue, e. g. " Lottchen am Hofe ;" " Die Liebe 
 auf dem Lande," after the French; "Annette et 
 Lubin ;" " Die Jagd," in which occurs the well-known 
 sonff, " Als ich auf meiner Bleiche mein klares Gam 
 begoss ;" the " Erntekranz," and, lastly, the " Dorf- 
 barbier." These pieces were of course regarded with 
 high disfavour by Bodmer, who beheld in them the 
 return of the French frivolity. In fact, they are a 
 recurrence to the jingling, empty, sing-song pieces 
 which Gottsched had attacked and driven from the 
 stage fifty or sixty years before, at the beginning of 
 
 B 3 
 
390 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 the century ; so that he was partially right, after all. 
 Marvellous as it may seem, these operettas ruled the 
 boards when Lessing was at the height of his fame, 
 and his " Minna von Barnhelm " was already written. 
 "Weisse possessed great facility of composition, being 
 able to write a tragedy in fourteen days in the midst 
 of his avocations as a collector of the revenue. He 
 also wrote lyric songs, " Scherzhafte Lieder," which 
 were much admired ; his Amazonian songs still more 
 so ; but they are now forgotten, as they deserve. Most 
 enduring were his merits as a writer for children. 
 His " Kinderfreund " is a continuation of Adelung's 
 " Weekly Paper for Children." It commenced in 1775, 
 but bears the unmistakable stamp of the old Saxon 
 school. His songs for children are in an unsufferably 
 pedantic tone. He tells us how alarmed he was to 
 hear sung at the cradle of his first-born the stupid old 
 nursery rhymes. But of all the nursery rhymes he 
 ever wrote, not one is equal to the old song, " Wenn 
 der jungste Tag will werden, fallen die Sternlein auf 
 die Erden," which still lives on, while his are forgotten. 
 Little better are his songs in which he wished to com- 
 pel children to sing the praises of diligence, " Siisser 
 angenehmer Fleiss, o wie herrlich ist der Preiss," or, 
 " Morgen, Morgen, nur nicht heute," which are more 
 than half Gottschedian in tone. 
 
 Some other poets of this period — Kleist, Uz, and 
 Glelm — are more allied to Klopstock, though still dis- 
 tinct from him. They will be described after him. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 391 
 
 Klopstock. 
 
 Friedrlcli Gottlieb Klopstock* was a man of great 
 mental endowments, and whose superiority was uni- 
 versally acknowledged from the very commencement of 
 his career. Although he advocated the views of Bodmer, 
 and formed his epic on the basis of Milton, — although, 
 moreover, he resembled in style, language, and ideas 
 the authors of the " Bremische Beitrage," yet there are 
 features in his poetry distinct from all these. As for 
 Gartner, Gellert, and Schlegel, everybody felt that, in 
 comparison with Klopstock, they were nothing ; their 
 day was past, and a new era of poetry had commenced. 
 Something of a like nature occurred in the first clas- 
 sical period of German literature. Heinrich von Vel- 
 dekin exercised an influence over his contemporaries no 
 less sudden and magical. He created a new verse, a 
 
 * Born at Quedlinturg, July 2, 1724; died at Hamburg, March 14, 
 1803. During his residence at Schulpforte (1739-45) he conceived the 
 poetical idea of his "Messias," which he wrote at Leipzig, 1746-1748. 
 His odes to Fanny (Friederike Schmidt) were written while he was 
 tutor at Lagensalza, 1748-1749. In 1750 he resided some time with 
 Bodmer at Zurich. From 1751 to 1771, chiefly in Copenhagen, whither 
 he was invited by the Danish Minister Bernstorff, and received a pension 
 that he might have leisure to complete the "Messias." From 1771, 
 until his death, with the exception of a short residence in 1775 at Carls- 
 ruhe, he lived at Hamburg. His long life was one of " happy leisure " 
 for the Muses. His existence was chequered only with the joys and 
 sorrows of domestic and social life ; which explains a good deal not only 
 in his poetry, but in the productions of his school. Much light is thrown 
 on his interior life in his descriptions of his relations with his wife (Meta 
 MoUer, called Cidli in his odes ; married 1754, died 1758), and of her 
 death in the eleventh volume of his works. Klopstock's Werke, Leip- 
 aig, 1798-1817, Goschen. 
 
 s4 
 
392 GERMAN LITERATUBE. 
 
 new language, new ideas, a new poetry. Still there is 
 this diflference between him and Klopstock : Veldekin 
 found iis materials ready to his hand, and it is chiefly 
 in form that he employed his eminent talents. Klop- 
 stock, on the other hand, although he is novel, and 
 grand, and creative in the form of his verse, is stUl 
 grander and more creative in respect to the matter. 
 
 Klopstock was German to the core. German in 
 earnestness and depth, in domestic feelings, in love of 
 fatherland, German in simplicity and truth, and in his 
 strong sympathy with nature. For a hundred and thirty 
 years — ever since national feeling had become extinct' — 
 there had been no end of talking about the German lan- 
 guage, German poetry, German heroism, and what not. 
 Every year poetry was to be more German than ever, 
 and every year it was less so. The reason was, that the 
 whole herd of soi-disant " Germans" had no nationality' 
 a,bout them. Klopstock at last appeared upon the scene. 
 He did not make a great parade about trying to be 
 German, but was German, heart and soul. And it was 
 his example that awakened an interest, sincere and 
 universal, in Germany's past history — an interest 
 which all the Arminiuses and Thusneldas of a Lohen- 
 stein, the Wittekinds of a Postel, the Hermanns of a 
 Schonaich, and even Bodmer himself, had failed to ex- 
 cite. And yet, strangely enough, Bodmer had taken a 
 right way to accomplish this, and Klopstock a strange 
 and roundabout one, which did not so much differ from 
 that followed by Lohenstein, Postel, and Schonaich. 
 
 A second prominent element in Klopstock's character 
 as a poet is his vivid Christian belief. Here, too, he 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 393; 
 
 may be called new and creative. We don't pretend to 
 assert that there had not been true Christians before 
 him, or that, in the century preceding him, Christian 
 poets had not poured forth their faith in a flood of 
 inspired hymns ; but since the days of the Reformation, 
 except in the Protestant church-hymn, the spirit of 
 Christianity had never been proclaimed with such truth 
 and fervour, in tones so striking, so iiniversally touch- 
 ing. Certainly it had never been so much part and 
 parcel of a poet's existence, since the olden days of a 
 Conrad, a Lamprecht, and a Wolfram von Eschenr 
 bach. Not to the Church alone, but to all the world, 
 Klopstock sang of the redemption of sinful man. Bold 
 and free, he spoke from the depths of his soul, of 
 Christianity, not as of a doctrine, but as a fact. The 
 Saviour was his Saviour, whom he embraced with all 
 the power and warmth of his soul. It was the person 
 of the Ercdeemer that inspired his song, that gave it a 
 form and consistency. Nor must we forget that for 
 more than a hundred years before Klopstock, even in 
 the Reformed Church, Christianity had become a matter 
 of doctrine, of erudition, a dead conventional formula. 
 The official psalmody of the Opitz school abundantly 
 testifies to this cold Christianity of custom. In the spirit 
 of Spener, Klopstock rose up with all the fire of his 
 testimony against this dead belief. The bitter contests 
 between the Pietists and the Orthodox party were over, 
 and had been succeeded by a greater indifference than 
 before. Be as hard with Klopstock as we will, — say his 
 poetry is subjective, arbitrary, unecclesiastical, — say 
 that it produced a profitless religion of emotion, — yet. 
 
 s 5 
 
394 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 after all, we must allow that he was endowed with a 
 Christian enthusiasm, quite new in those days, full of 
 truth and poetry, kindling a similar feryour in his con- 
 temporaries. 
 
 The next peculiarity of Klopstock is, that he was 
 the first to make the measures and forms of classic 
 antiquity the vehicle of German thought and German 
 matter. In national feeling and Christian feeling, the 
 old German poets were his equals ; but in this third 
 feature he excelled them. There had been a long fight 
 waged between classical lore and German nationality. 
 For two hundred years the study of the classics had 
 been carried on with intense zeal, throwing national 
 feeling into the back-ground, and for a space of one 
 hundred years German poetry and German feeling were 
 all but extinguished by it. And yet what fruits had 
 this sovereignty of the classics borne ? During all this 
 period the Germans had not even learnt the true value 
 of the antique models. The " polished" Virgil was 
 pronounced supe^or toHomer, as is clear from the 
 conversation between Gellert and Frederick 11, The 
 most wooden, stiff imitations of the classics were 
 brought to market, not containing a spark of antique 
 poetical fire. Germany, in fact, was for centuries at 
 school, cudgeling its brains to no purpose, " ever learn- 
 ing, and still not able to get to the knowledge of the 
 truth," till Klopstock appeared, shut the school doors, 
 applied what had been learned, and transformed 
 school-exercises into breathing, living, original poetry, 
 but in the form and measure and mode of thought of 
 the antique. Klopstock borrowed the grand ideas of 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. , 395 
 
 the ancient epic and inspired ode, and grafted them on 
 the German stock. The ancient measure, too, which 
 had so often been tried in vain, he took and adapted to 
 German poetry. Not that his blank verse, his hexa- 
 meters, and the form of his odes are by any means per- 
 fect models of versification. But the great good he 
 wrought by introducing blank verse was, that he put 
 an end to that mechanical rhyming and sing-songing, — 
 that notion that sound was everything and sense no- 
 thing ; and thus he made great and lofty and poetical 
 ideas the pith and marrow of German verse. So, then, 
 it appears that these three qualities, — nationality. 
 Christian feeling, and anti-pedantic spirit, combining 
 harmoniously together, for the first time, in the person 
 of Klopstock, made him what he was. 
 
 Another peculiarity of Klopstock, personally and 
 poetically, is what we will call his universal sympathy ; 
 in which he is the representative of a numerous class of 
 followers. Nothing of the kind was known to the early 
 times of poetry. This is due to the reaction then so pre- 
 valent against the heartless ceremonial, the formality 
 and hypocrisy of society. People were tired of hollow 
 masquerade, and wanted to have something like genuine 
 feeling ; a touch of nature unfettered by the trammels 
 of conventionalism. It was this same instinct which 
 made the Eobinsonades and Aventurier stories so 
 popular. 
 
 friendship with Klopstock and his school amounted 
 to a consuming passion. They were all feeling and sen- 
 timentality, pathos, tears : always in a transport of in- 
 effable sympathy. " Weinende Augen," " tearful eyes," 
 
 s6 
 
S96 GERMAN LITEBATUEE. 
 
 play a conspicuous part in his poetry. But this excess 
 of emotion is not confined to his heroes and heroines, 
 it was the life of his school, and the admirers of the 
 works of Richardson. They laid a wonderful stress on 
 the momentary feelings and impulses of each individual. 
 This sickly sentimentality, when applied to social and 
 political matters, passed into the ideal, the visionary, 
 and unpractical. They, became incapable of forming a 
 correct judgment of the real state of things in the 
 world around them. Hence it was that Klopstock, the 
 poet of the century, the man of his age, fell into such 
 inconceivable errors respecting the essence of the 
 French Revolution. Not that he was revolutionary in 
 his ideas, but he was a visionary, and it was this very 
 vague hunting after the ideal and the unreal that in 
 .France led to wild and bloody incendiarism. The evil 
 effects of this idiosyncrasy of mind are clearly stamped 
 on his poetry. It deals too much in vague sensations 
 and impulses. It is ever attempting to express what 
 is inexpressible ; and, while approaching a high pitch 
 of lyric sublimity, it often fails in plastic firmness. 
 Instead of true and simple language, descriptive of 
 true and simple life, it frequently indulges in the rhe- 
 toric of effeminate sentimentality. 
 
 Klopstock conceived the first idea of his poem, " The 
 Messiah," while yet a pupil at Schulpforte. The inspi- 
 ration was due partly to a dream he had, partly to the 
 " Paradise Lost." Indeed, much of the colouring is 
 evidently borrowed from Milton's poem. The method 
 chosen by him to represent the scheme of Redemption is 
 what the Germans call " the objective mythological,'' 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 397 
 
 t.e, the course of the transaction is described, not as it 
 visibly occurred before man on earth, but as it was 
 shaped in the councils of God the Father and God the 
 Son in Heaven. The disadvantage of this method of 
 treating the subject — instead of the other two ways he 
 might have taken, viz,, those of describing Christ's works 
 on earth, or the effects of the Gospel in converting men, 
 — is, that it admits of very little action ; if the actions of 
 the Almighty alone are to be represented. If, on the 
 other hand, the author had travelled out of the record, 
 and introduced action of his own invention, he would 
 very likely have thereby offended the Christian sense^ 
 and been wandering into the monstrous and fantastic. 
 It is in this dilemma that he is involved throughout the 
 poem. Hence its want of epic repose. Owing to the 
 paucity of action it often merges from epic into the region 
 of descriptive poetry. The whole abounds with speeches, 
 conversations, and descriptions, which are interrupted 
 with remarks that the thing described is indescribable. 
 Episodes, too, are frequent, which often pass into rhe- 
 torical and lyric eflfusions. The action, what there is 
 of it, or, as we may call it, the Christian mythology, 
 often hovers on the extreme verge between the allow- 
 able and the objectionable. It is a proverbial saying 
 that very few people have been able to read the " Mes- 
 siah " from the beginning to the end. There are two 
 reasons for this : first, the extreme length of the poem, 
 secondly, the manifest falling off in poetic warmth after 
 the tenth canto. When the author began his task he 
 had no clear conception of it as a whole. In fact, he 
 was engaged upon it full five and twenty years. The 
 
398 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 first three cantos appeared in 1748 ; the two following 
 in 1751; from the sixth to the tenth in 1758; the 
 eleventh to the fifteenth not till 1769, and the five last 
 in 1773. The second half is not the produce of uncon- 
 scious inspiration ; it is artificial and laboured. This 
 remark is not inapplicable to the much-admired de- 
 scription of the death of Mary at Bethany, in the 
 twelfth canto. The first ten cantos, however, are 
 a fine specimen of grand and touching descriptive 
 poetry. 
 
 It is in his odes that the excellence of Klopstock as 
 a poet is most apparent. His muse here, less encum- 
 bered by the weight of the theme, takes a more 
 measured and majestic flight. Indeed, in the latter 
 part of the Messiah, he threw aside the hexameter and 
 inserted a number of lyric pieces and hymns instead. 
 In his odes we see his own personal qualities strongly 
 reflected ; his religious feelings ; his kindness ; his 
 patriotism. There is, however, a wide difference 
 between his earlier and later odes. The former, 
 written before 1760, when he was quite a young man, 
 are full of fiery enthusiasm and sublime rapture, 
 wherever God and the Redeemer are the theme. Is 
 friendship the subject, his verse is fervid and manly. 
 Does he sing of Fanny or Cidli, he overflows with 
 deep manly affection, and most touching, though not 
 morbid, melancholy. Lastly, when he essays to raise 
 a monument to the glory of his country, e. g. in " Hein- 
 rich der Vogler," " Hermann und Thusnelde," &c., there 
 is a proud tone of independence and self-reliance 
 expressed in simple and natural language. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 399 
 
 With regard to his love-odes, they are not, like 
 most love-odes had been since the days of Opitz, 
 pure imagination. On the contrary, like the songs of 
 the old Minnesingers, which they resemble in tone 
 (although Klopstock did not know it), they are 
 addressed to some real object of his affections. "We 
 may here remark, that in this respect Klopstock's 
 example has been followed by all the erotic poets 
 since. His later odes, especially those written after 
 1770, are, with few exceptions, remarkably cold. The 
 religious ones affect grandeur of expression and descrip- 
 tion. Those to his fatherland are disfigured by scraps 
 of Northern mythology foisted into them. The rest 
 are generally upon unsuitable topics. In most, the 
 language is artificial, the style obscure, or they are 
 unlyrically didactic. 
 
 Klopstock is also known as the author of hymns, 
 some of them original, others, older ones remodelled. 
 But they wanted the popular element which is essential 
 to the church hymn. They represent sesthetic and 
 refined religious sensations rather than facts. His 
 celebrated hymn, " Auferstehen ja auferstehen," is no 
 exception. They may be called spiritual songs, but 
 not church hymns. And then they are too much 
 occupied with self, too full of emotion or whining 
 sentiment^ which resolves itself at last into mere 
 nonentity. Klopstock's dramatic poetry is of no great 
 importance. He wrote three biblical pieces; the oldest 
 of these, and the best, " Adam's Tod," is, after all, a 
 mere luscious idyll. The two others " Salomo " and 
 " David," are complete failures. 
 
400 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 Besides these, lie wrote three " Bardiete," as they 
 are called. The earliest, which appeared in 1769, and 
 was dedicated to the Emperor Joseph, is entitled the 
 *' Hermannsschlacht." It met with great applause, and 
 yet it is difficult to imagine a more utter mistake. 
 The contrast here between the heroism portrayed, and 
 the overstrained sentimentality and morbid effeminacy 
 with which it is invested, is quite revolting. The 
 caricatures of the Druids and Bards, their songs and 
 sacrifices, are beyond bearing. In this piece is clearly 
 impressed the influence of "Ossian," which first became 
 known in Germany in 1764. There is that same 
 unpoetical mixing up of old characters and modern 
 sentiment, which has contributed so much to the de- 
 pravation of taste. These vagaries of Klopstock's were 
 diligently imitated by his admirers, in their " Barden- 
 poesie " ("Poetry of the Bards "). 
 
 Of Klopstock's prose works the less said the better, 
 as in them he becomes quite trivial and childish. He 
 lies buried at Ottensen, under a linden tree, by the 
 side of his beloved Meta. 
 
 Gotthold Ephraim Leasing* the other awakener of 
 German poetical independence, is quite the opposite of 
 
 * Of all the German poets of modern times Lessing's works alone 
 have appeared in a critical and complete edition ; Lessing's " Samtliche 
 Schriften," Berlin (Voss), 1838-1840, in 13 volmnes, edited by Lach- 
 mann. This edition leaves very little to be supplied. Gottlieb Monike, 
 " Lessingiana," 1843, chiefly refers to his epigrams. Korte, in his 
 Biography of Thacr, went so far as to ascribe, Lessing's " Erziehung 
 des Menschen-geschleehts," to that author. , The absurdity of the state- 
 ment has been shown by Guhraner. Lessing was born at Camenz, 
 January 27, 1729 ; died, as librarian, at Wolfenbuttel, Feb. 15, 1781. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 401 
 
 Klopstock. Klopstock is quiet, mild, and retiring; 
 Leasing uneasy, sharp, taking a keen interest in the 
 world around. Here we have lyric poetry dissolved in 
 tenderness; there prose full of sober sense and cool 
 self-possession ; here an easy laissez aller disposition ; 
 there sharp criticism and excessive scepticism. The 
 one attached to Christianity with child-like faith ; the 
 other indifferent to positive religion, and taking up a 
 position hostile to the Church ; in the one everything 
 German and Christian; in the other antique and pagajn. 
 In Klopstock's poetry the matter mastering the form ; 
 in Lessing's, the form holding the matter in rigorous 
 submission. In short, there were antagonistic prin- 
 ciples in these two men which it was reserved for 
 Goethe to reconcile. In the matter of his writings 
 Lessing leans decidedly to the antique classic element, 
 much more so than Klopstock, who was the finger-post> 
 60 to say, in that direction ; while Lessing led off on it. 
 In short, he- may be considered as a representative of 
 that contest between Christianity and heathenism which 
 had long been going on secretly in Germany, and 
 which, towards the end of the seventeenth century, 
 came out in its true colours in the tenets of English 
 Deism. Lessing represents that party in Germany who 
 are alway seeking and never finding ; who, in fact, prize 
 the pursuit of truth higher than truth itself. Hence, 
 in every instance where he handles the profounder 
 problems of humanity, he is uneasy and polemical; there 
 is always something unsatisfactory and inharmonious. 
 
 Shifting about from place to place, now at Leipzig^ 
 now at Berlin, now in Breslau, Hamburg, and WolfeuT 
 
402 GEKMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 biittelj with a number of irons in the fire at the same 
 time, Leasing has laid himself open to the charge of 
 desultoriness and uncertainty of object. Still, there 
 was a vigour and an energy about all he did; a strength 
 of purpose, a straightforwardness, and intelligence in 
 his attacks on the literary faults of the day, that secured 
 his success and demands our admiration. He was the 
 first to throw off" the yoke of France, which pressed so 
 heavily on German literature ; while he prevented it 
 from being a too slavish imitator of the English. He it 
 was who naturalised in Germany the touch and lucid 
 form of the antique. He assailed the stupid formalism 
 of "that great dunce," Go ttsched, as he called him; and 
 criticised the shapeless descriptions in the "Messiah." 
 Lange, and the other unskilful imitators of Horace; his 
 old friend "Weisse, who imitated the French; the fables 
 of Hagedorn, Gellert, and Lichtwer; indeed, didactic 
 poetry generally ; and lastly, the taste for over-much 
 painting and describing — all these came in for a share of 
 his sarcasm. Like Bodmer, he makes creative, inventive 
 power the first requisite of true poetry ; but this power 
 he makes subservient to the strictest rules. In the 
 drama he follows Shakspeare and the Canons of Ari- 
 stotle. 
 
 His principle was not to destroy, but to purify, to 
 improve, to seek for new rules. His " Correspondence 
 about Literature," with Nicolai, from 1759 to 1765 ; 
 his " Laocoon, or concerning the Boundaries of Paint- 
 ing and Poetry," which appeared in 1766 ; and the 
 " Hamburgische Dramaturgic" (1768), are his chief cri- 
 tical works. But, besides this, he was, next to Luther, 
 
THE NEW FEEIOD. 403 
 
 the father of modern German prose. His style is that 
 of animated dialogue, where one idea naturally produces 
 another ; thought follows thought in logical sequence. 
 We are delighted with the playful turns, but we are 
 withal carried away, convinced, overpowered. The 
 conversation is so lively and clear that we almost fancy 
 we are bearing a part in it. Objection and refutation, 
 question and answer, doubt and clearing up of doubt, 
 follow each other in rapid succession, till the subject is 
 thoroughly exhausted; and yet the writer does not 
 dwell upon it a minute longer than is necessary to set 
 the whole clearly before us. There is nothing super- 
 fluous in word or thought, nothing for mere ornament, 
 nothing half said ; he goes to the pith of the matter, 
 and brings it home to us, and he has done. There 
 must evidently be a great charm in that man's style 
 who can make the most special and out of the way 
 topics in science or art interesting sources of the 
 greatest possible literary enjoyment. No wonder, then, 
 that Lessing's style has, in its peculiar department, 
 been considered a model for the last eighty years or 
 more. 
 
 Lessing's youthful epigrams and lyrics are unimpor- 
 tant, although one of the latter, " Gestem, Briider konnt 
 ihr's glauben," is still remembered. Of his prose fables 
 it need only be remarked that they are written with 
 epigrammatic brevity, and in strict keeping with the 
 subject. It is in his dramas that he developes his 
 powers. Even in his youthful comedies, "Die alte 
 Juiigfer," " Der junge Gelehrte," " Der Misogyn," 
 "Die Juden," "Der Schatz," the dialogue Is more 
 
404 GEKMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 lively and natural than all the contemporary efforts in 
 the same line, although the plot does not rise above the 
 ordinary. His tragedy, " Miss Sara Sampson," is of 
 much higher calibre. Here he attempts to introduce 
 the spirit of the English tragedy to the German boards. 
 Hitherto the different personages had pronounced only 
 rhetorical exercises ; here they are endued with some- 
 what more of a natural character. But there still clings, 
 both to this piece and to " Philotas" (1759), some of 
 the sententious, moralising manner that had so long 
 been traditional on the stage. With " Minna von 
 Barnhelm " it is different. " Here," as Goethe says, 
 " we have a glimpse at a higher and grander world 
 than that in which poetry had hitherto moved." The 
 dialogue is lively and rapid, without ornamentation and 
 sententiousness, without being heavy and pathetic. 
 The design is masterly, and the action moves along 
 briskly to the goal. One chief reason why this piece 
 rises above the level of its contemporaries is that it has 
 for its back-ground the grand events of the Seven 
 Years' War ; while the life it portrays is not an imagi- 
 native, but a real one — the action not confined within 
 the narrow bounds of domestic occurrences and petty 
 embarrassments, but arising out of the great conflict of 
 the nations. So that it may with justice be considered 
 the first German national play, and the model for histo- 
 rical pieces. The effects it wrought were prodigious. 
 All the stiff old tragedies and dramas that encumbered 
 the stage were swept away like so much lumber, and 
 people returned to truth and nature once more. Un- 
 fortunately the, good, fruits that ought to have resulted 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 405 
 
 were to some extent marred by a crowd of ignorant 
 imitators. 
 
 Leasing himself did not pursue any further the path 
 which he had struck out in " Minna von Barnhelm." 
 His " Emilia Galotti," which appeared five years later, 
 exhibits in many respects a striking contrast to the 
 former piece. The subject of "Minna" is quite a 
 model of dramatic interest ; "Emilia" is a model of tragic 
 form. In this respect more can be learnt from it than 
 from all the dramas of Schiller. In clearness of expo- 
 sition it surpasses " Minna." The way in which the 
 events are made to work hand in hand with the action 
 is admirable. The characters are finely and sharply 
 drawn, but without hardness or irregularity. Indeed, 
 in this respect, Lessing excels Goethe in his "Tasso." 
 The language is as precise and curt as possible. By 
 some it has been called epigrammatic, — by Goethe, 
 laconic. In point of material, it served Schiller and 
 his followers as a model of what the Germans call 
 burgher tragedy. The time for making a grand tra- 
 gedy on the destinies of the nation, and on its national 
 heroes, had passed by without being taken advantage 
 of. In the days of Opitz and Gottsched foreign heroes 
 had been attempted, but in vain. Nothing, therefore, 
 remained but to take as the subject of a tragedy the 
 fate and sufferings of individuals : their conflicts within 
 and without, the destruction of some with their fami- 
 lies. Topics, it is true, poor and insignificant as com- 
 pared with the destinies of nations and heroes, but the 
 only ones left open. Lessing had at an earlier period 
 thought of dramatising the Eomau story of " Vir- 
 
406 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 ginia," and, in fact, this is the material of "Emilia 
 Galotti." 
 
 At the close of his career, Lessing wrote his " Na- 
 than," a piece which, neither in exposition nor in 
 action, approaches the transparency of " Minna " and 
 "^ Emilia." The language, however, is more simple 
 and lively than in the latter. This piece was meant 
 to be a polemical one (Gervinus calls it materialistic); 
 and this makes its artistic value inferior to that of 
 the two first mentioned. It is written in the Iambics 
 of five feet, which were introduced by J. H. Schlegel 
 and Weisse, and which now became the standing metre 
 for the drama as long as it flourished. 
 
 In Klopstock we have seen the Christian poet in- 
 spired with the loftiest ideas, the German poet full of 
 ardent patriotism. Again, in Lessing we behold the 
 disciple of the antique, the keen and lucid critic. In 
 Christopher Martin Wieland we have a writer of a 
 totally dififerent stamp. He is neither German nOr 
 classical, but French; the advocate of those tastes 
 which the other two opposed heart and soul. He dis- 
 tinctly repudiates the noble and the great. With the 
 sublime he has no concern. Animal enjoyment, sen- 
 suality, frivolity, of these he is the apostle. Wieland 
 represents poetically the practical materialism of Vol- 
 taire, La Mettrie, Diderot, and the encyclopsedists. 
 He advocates the popular philosophy of the sensualist, 
 who considers thorough enjoyment of this life the 
 height of wisdom, and the motto of live and let live — 
 that is, in fact, the most refined egotism— to be the 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 407 
 
 acme of morality. In a word, he is the German 
 representatiye of the age of Louis XV. 
 
 For the genuine antique he has but little taste ; what 
 he best appreciates in antique life and antique poetry- 
 is the period of its decline. The philosophy of Epicurus 
 and Lucian is his model. But these he dresses up in 
 a new costume ; for his Greek (e. g. in Agathon) are 
 not Greek, but modern French characters. To him 
 Greece is not a world of the noblest and purest forms, 
 but a world of the most refined gratification of the 
 senses. In the same way the romantic world has only 
 charms for him in its dotage and decline. He loves 
 most the seductive voluptuousness of Boccaccio and 
 Ariosto, the very unideal sensuality of Amadis, the 
 unchastised and almost thoughtless character of the 
 fairy and allegoric poetry of romance, which, however, 
 he only treated ironically. He was, therefore, the very 
 man to suit those who could not endure the -Chris- 
 tianity, the sublimity of Klopstock, wljo were out of 
 all patience with the clear reasoning and rigorous logic 
 ofLessing. He was just the person, too, to suit the 
 higher classes, who had imbibed the subtle poison of 
 France, and to whom thought was inconvenient, ideas 
 troublesome, and enthusiasm an absurdity. It was the 
 interest of the subject matter in Wieland's writings 
 that made them during his lifetime more popular even 
 than those of Klopstock and Lessing. After his death 
 they were soon forgotten. We must also take into the 
 account the fact that he was a good-tempered, worldly- 
 minded man, who tried to make all the friends he 
 could and no enemies ; made a point of never offending 
 
408 GEEMAJT LITERATURE. 
 
 eminent people, and had not mettle enough for an 
 earnest literary controversy. Doubtless, it was owing 
 not a little to him that the succeeding prose and poetry 
 writers espiancipated themselves from the stiff and arti- 
 ficial style of the older " learned " period. He helped 
 to check the overstrained sublimity of the Klopstock 
 school. And it is his writings, so free, so natural, so 
 ■unconstrained, so instinct with cheerfulness and youth, 
 that formed the intermediate step to the still lighter 
 and easier style of Goethe ; who, fettered by no foreign 
 rules, writes just as the nature of the subject dictates. 
 But, in spite of all this, Wieland is deficient in almost 
 all the qualities of a genuine classic poet. 
 
 And what is the matter of his writings ? Modern 
 French voluptuousness and indecency; the insipid 
 philosophy of a Shaftesbury and a Voltaire disguised 
 in Greek forms, as in the " Agathon," " Peregrinus 
 Proteus," and " Aristippus ;" — the doctrine of tickling 
 the senses, as in " Musarion oder Philosophic der 
 Grazien," which acquired an inconceivable popularity. 
 Pretty sweet-meats these, to refresh, to nourish, to 
 edify the young generation. Again, In the " Nadine," 
 in " Diana und Endymion," the " Neue Amadis," in 
 that odious " Combabus," on which Wieland so espe- 
 cially plumed himself for having here spoken out 
 certain things in plain German, which people had 
 hitherto supposed could only be enunciated in French ; 
 in these and other pieces, the matter is only such gar- 
 bage as society in a state of thorough effeteness, and of 
 moral, political, and religious dissolution, could possibly 
 take any pleasure in. Nay, even the subject of his 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 409 
 
 " Oberon," — which, together with " The Abderites," is 
 the only good subject he ever handled, — how little of 
 the truly classic spirit does it possess ! How arbitrary, 
 artificial, and fantastic ; and, then, how flat and com- 
 mon-place ! Oberon and Titania the heroes of an epic ! 
 How differently Shakspeare introduces them into his 
 " Midsummer Night's Dream." Who can feel any 
 interest for such cloud-shapes ; such theatrical figures ; 
 not the natural creations of the poetic soul, but the 
 misbegotten phantoms of a desultory, unstable imagina- 
 tion. In " Oberon " there is none of the cool, fresh 
 breath of the May morning, but the stifling, oppressive 
 odours of the hot-house. In flne, the matter of 
 " Oberon " does not stand a whit higher than that of 
 " Wigamur," " Lanzelot," or " "Wigalois," And though, 
 in point of style, the colouring may be clearer and more 
 lively (Goethe's praise of " Oberon " refers to this), 
 yet those poems have the advantage of being more 
 simple, and in measured versification. 
 
 And now to speak more particularly of the form (or 
 treatment) of his writings. In his poetry, as well as 
 in his prose, his pleasant cheerfulness of description 
 frequently degenerates into nerveless softness, his ease 
 into carelessness, his unconstrainedness into irregu- 
 larity, and his copiousness into garrulity. In his prose 
 the periods are spun out to such a monstrous length 
 that Goethe and Schiller said of him in the " Xenia," 
 " May the thread of your life be as long as your Prose 
 Periods ; where, alas, Lachesis sleeps." In his poetry 
 he juns riot into all sorts of motley and fantastic metres,, 
 where the rhyme is loose and the measure looser. 
 
 T 
 
410 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 It is remarkable, that Wieland's mind was quite in- 
 capable of handling lyrics. 
 
 Many of the phenomena of his writings are to be 
 explained by his personal peculiarities, and outward 
 circumstances. A lad of much precocity, he wrote 
 verses at the age of ten ; while he was brought up in 
 straitened circumstances, and with the greatest strict- 
 ness. Of a compliant disposition, and easily moulded 
 by external impressions, he outwardly conformed to 
 the religious turn prevailing in his father's house and 
 at the school of Klosterbergen where he was educated, 
 though without any corresponding inward impres- 
 sion. At the age of eighteen he published a poem, 
 "Ueber die Natur der Dinge ;" after which he attached 
 himself intimately to Bodmer, who became the warm 
 friend of the confiding youth, and fostered, or rather 
 forced, his nascent talents. Sitting at one and the 
 same table as Bodmer (so he himself tells us), he in- 
 dited, quite in Bodmer's style and manner, an imitation 
 of Klopstock, " Der gepriifte Abraham," and the so- 
 called " Empfindungen eines Christen," a sort of prose 
 psalmody. His outward religious conformity soon led 
 him into religious exaggeration. In his preface to the 
 last-named work, he made a fierce attack on the Poets 
 of Wine and Love, i. e. Gleim and Uz. Subsequently, 
 on his becoming connected with the family of Count 
 Stadion, where French culture was the fashion, his re- 
 ligious insincerity at once showed itself. Sick of his 
 feigned Puritanism, he rushed into the opposite ex- 
 treme, and became a convert to French lightness, 
 frivolity, and indecency. Between 1760 and 1770, 
 
THE HEW PERIOD. 411 
 
 when he held an official situation at his native place, 
 Biberach, his most scandalous effusions appeared. So 
 bad were they, that Holty, Voss, and Boie (the 
 " Hainbund " as they were called), burnt him in effigy 
 at Gottingen. And so defective were they in form, 
 that the " Alceste " was attacked by the young Goethe 
 in his famous satire, " Gotter, Helden, und Wieland." 
 After this he was appointed, as the man of the age, by 
 the Elector of Mayence, to the professorship of literature, 
 at Erfurdt; upon which he turned his attention to mo- 
 dern theories of state, and wrote the " Goldener Spiegel 
 oder die Konige von Scheschian." He then became 
 tutor of the two Princes Kax^ August and Constan- 
 tine of Saxe "Weimar. Placed in the midst of the noble 
 coterie at Weimar, he laid aside his licentiousness, and 
 wrote " Oberon " and " The Abderites," the latter of 
 which is his most entertaining, if not his best, prose 
 work. Then followed his Graecising Romances, " Pe- 
 regrinus " and " Aristippus ;" after which he took to 
 translating. His letters of Cicero, and the Epistles 
 and Satires of Horace are well known and much read. 
 
 Thus, then, we see him all his life open to the im- 
 pression of the moment; receptive in the extreme, 
 without being able to master, systematise, and assimi- 
 late the impressions so acquired. Ever wavering be- 
 tween the dictates of his own good nature and those of 
 French shallow philosophy; between that dreaminess 
 and diffidence so peculiar to the German, and the 
 loosest frivolity, he tried his hand a everything. By 
 those around him he was looked on as the model of a 
 man of the world and as a paragon of learning. True 
 
 I 2 
 
412 GERMAN XrTEEATUEE. 
 
 to tte dilettante spirit of the times, lie busied himself in 
 everything, and took an Interest in nothing. He dab- 
 bled in the antique and the modern, In the foreign and 
 domestic, without really knowing any one of them. 
 These qualifications, however, quite fitted him for the 
 editorship of " The German Mercury," which he started 
 in 1773, chiefly in order to make money. This weekly 
 journal of literature and aesthetics was for thirty years 
 the oracle of taste for the middle strata of society. 
 
 Gervinus attributes the influence he had upon mo- 
 dern poetry In a great measure to the fact that he 
 raised mere sexual love to a poetical topic. This is 
 quite true as far as narrative poetry is concerned. In 
 this he set the fashion of making love, and love only the 
 theme. But lyric poetry, especially that of Germany, 
 always was of an amatory character long before Wie- 
 land. Here a remarkable parallel occurs to our minds. 
 When Wolfram von Eschenbach represented, in his 
 "Parclval," the highest and the noblest aspirations, 
 the greatest struggle that the soul of man has to wage, 
 and the victory it achieved, he encountered a formida- 
 ble antagonist. This was Gottfried von Strassburg, 
 who, in his " Tristan," propounds and extols another 
 class of Ideas, — worldly-mindedness, indifference to all 
 laws human and divine, the empire of sensual desire. 
 The same thing takes place over again in the period 
 we are describing. Put Klopstock for Wolfram, for 
 Gottfried, WIeland. In the one case, we have earnest- 
 ness and sublimity, nationality and Christianity ; in 
 the other, we have cosmopolitan notions, and notions 
 contradictory of Christianity. On the one side, we have 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 413 
 
 strictness and sobriety ; on the other, lively fascination, 
 grace, soft voluptuousness. With this difference, how- 
 ever, that Wieland never describes with the clearness 
 and good taste of " Tristan ;" while Wolfram does not, 
 like Klopstock, confine himself exclusively to spiritual 
 topics, but treats of life in the concrete, the world in 
 its reality. Gottfried calls Wolfram an inventor of 
 wild, strange Mare. Wieland, in like manner, says 
 that to him Klopstock is incomprehensible. In their 
 Avorkings, too, the representatives of the two parties in 
 the two ages have something in common. Wolfram 
 never founded a school, properly so called ; but all the 
 noble and elevated thoughts of Germany for three 
 hundred years crystallised round him; whereas from 
 Gottfried's poetry proceeded the germs of poetical 
 decay. So, in like manner, a host of noble and grand 
 aims and inplrations, turned upwards towards the 
 poetic ideal, centred round Klopstock ; while the adhe- 
 rents of Wieland were men of the lowest ideas ; so 
 much so that they filled even him with alarm ; while 
 his literary children at last collapsed in a filthy puddle. 
 At the present day, his compositions, with few excep- 
 tions, are neither read nor do they admit of being read. 
 Goethe, it is true, in his speech on the poet's memory, 
 passed a very favourable judgment on his writings ; but 
 then he was speaking of him as a brother Mason ; not- 
 withstanding which the oration will be found in reality 
 to contain the elements of concealed reprobation. 
 
 Before proceeding to discuss the second great Triad 
 of poets of this era. Herder, Goethe, and Schiller, 
 
 T 3 
 
414 GERMAN LITERATTJEE. 
 
 we must revert for a moment to another group of 
 writers which gathered round Gleim at Halberstadt, 
 and which has been called the Halle or Prussian group. 
 The walks they pursued are various. Many of them 
 wrote Anacreontics, and such like compositions, after 
 the manner of Hagedorn, and in turn were imitated by 
 Wieland. They also wrote odes of an earnest nature, like 
 those of Klopstock ; while in his endeavours after the 
 strictly antique form, one of them, at all events, follows 
 Lessing. Three of them, Kleist, Gleim, and Eammler, 
 have this peculiarity; that' they do not, like Klop- 
 stock, sing only the praises of Germany, but of Prussia 
 in particular. Their chief idol was Frederick the Great, 
 who had the gratitude almost to ignore their existence. 
 Some of these poets were students at Halle at the time 
 of the memorable contest between Bodmer and Gott- 
 sched, and then formed friendships with each other 
 which continued all their lives. 
 
 The chief of this group was Johann Wilhelm Lud- 
 ■wig Gleim, Cathedral Secretary at Halberstadt for 
 the space of five and fifty years. During this long 
 period he vs^as otf good terms with, nay, affected the 
 most enthusiastic friendship for, a number of poets 
 utterly dissimilar in character, e. g. Leasing and 
 Klopstock, "Wieland and Nicolai, Jacobi and Voss. 
 The kind and benevolent way in which he took 
 young men of lesser talent by the hand, and helped 
 them to struggle out of obscurity, was worthy of all 
 credit ; but it likewise gained for his poems a popu- 
 larity which they by no means deserve. Never did 
 any one get the reputation of a poet on cheaper terms 
 
THE NBW PERIOD. 415 
 
 than he did. Most of his verses are mere prosy, pitiful 
 trifles, devoid of ideas. Now, he apes Petrarch, now 
 Anacreon, now the old Minnesingers, in the strangest 
 manner possible, without possessing a spark of their 
 genius. All these amatory and drinking songs are 
 utterly forgotten. 
 
 Still louder were the plaudits showered upon his 
 didactic poem, " Halladat." By many it was almost 
 looked upon as a sort of new Revelation, though in fact 
 it owed its origin to the part Gleim took in his friend 
 Boyen's labours on the Koran. Outwardly it has 
 much affinity with Klopstock's poetry, but it is really 
 all Interjection and vapid description, with no life or 
 substance about it. Gleim's war- songs concerning the 
 campaigns of 1756 and 1757, which he puts into the 
 mouth of a Prussian grenadier, made a great stir at 
 the time. They bear the impress of the excitement con- 
 sequent upon the great events then occurring, and are 
 for this reason far the best things Gleim ever wrote ; 
 but after all they are not songs for the people. The 
 long descriptions, figurative expressions, mythological 
 learning, exclamations, and what not, exclude them 
 entirely from this category ; not but what they served 
 to fan the flame of Prussian patriotism and warlike 
 enthusiasm. Indeed, on the death of Frederick II., 
 "the Prussian Grenadier" was presented with the 
 deceased king's hat as a memento of his services. 
 
 One of Gleim's oldest and most intimate friends was 
 Ewald Christian von Kleist, whose memory he mourned 
 all his life long. It was at Gleim's instigation that he 
 cultivated his poetic talents, and In so doing showed 
 
 I 4 
 
416 GERMAN LITER ATUEE. 
 
 himself vastly superior to his master. His matter Is 
 more earnest and dignified, his versification more sus- 
 tained and measured, than in the loose, prose-like lines 
 of Gleim. He is best known by his poem "Der 
 Friihling," a fragment of a larger and unfinished, poem, 
 " Die Landlust." It is true that there is no one great 
 thought pervading this composition ; on the contrary, 
 it is a series of pictures succeeding pictures ; but the 
 delineations of nature are done with much simplicity, 
 and in a truly poetical spirit. It appeared in 1749, 
 and the reception it met with was enthusiastic. Nor 
 was this undeserved, if we consider that those were 
 days when the old conventional formalism, or Gott- 
 sched's precise rhymes all about nothing, or Brookes' 
 pettifogging nature-painting, were the patterns in 
 vogue. After Hagedorn this was the first hearty 
 attempt to get out of the closet into the living realities 
 of fresh breathing nature outside. It is also a very 
 striking characteristic of the tendency of the age to get 
 rid of all traditional, all artificial culture, and with- 
 drawing into the idyllic retirement of the country, to 
 live only in the undisturbed enjoyment of one's own sen- 
 sations. In point of metrical form, Kleist's " Friihling " 
 is a pendant to the " Messiah," only that he prefixes 
 one syllable to the beginning of the Hexameter, e. g. 
 Em-pfangt mich kiihlende Schatten, &c. 
 
 Among Kleist's followers were Zacharia, the author 
 of " Tageszeiten," which is inferior to the " Friih- 
 ling;" and the late idyllic poets, such as Geszner. 
 Kleist's other poems are of less mark. Like Gleim he 
 was a great Prussian patriot, and therefore he is placed 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 417 
 
 here, and not with the elder school of Hagedorn, to 
 which he was nearly allied. 
 
 TJz, of Ansbach, was another of this coterie. On the 
 one side he imitated the lively Anacareontics of his 
 friend Gleim, and indeed excelled him in this species of 
 composition. But, on the other side, he wrote serious 
 odes after the manner of Klopstoclc, e. g. the Ode to the 
 Deity, (" Mit sonnenrotem Angeslchte flieg ich zur 
 Gottheit aufj") a style of writing, be it said, vastly 
 more in consonance with the earnest and elevated turn 
 of his own mind. Albeit, he was rather inclined to the 
 older didactic style of poetry, still it must be allowed 
 he did a very great deal towards introducing grander 
 subjects, nobler and more natural language, and the 
 antique measure. 
 
 After the fierce onslaught made upon him by Wie- 
 land, who called him and his friends " vermin," he 
 wrote very little. He was, however, long a favourite 
 of the better part of the German public, and worthily 
 so ; for though his light paled before the splendour of 
 Klopstock, still it was pure and pleasant to behold. 
 
 Passing over INIiehaelis, who died young, Klamer 
 Schmidt, Gotz, Ephraim Kuh, the Jew, who became 
 insane, with others of this sort, we come to Johann 
 George Jacobi, the elder of the brothers of Pempel- 
 pfort. Gleim, who was much his senior, conceived for 
 him a romantic friendship, at times verging on the 
 absurd. During this period of toying blandishments, 
 Jacobi wrote nothing of any value. In his pocket- 
 book, the " Iris," however, between 1774 — 1775, he 
 proved himself to be a capital song- writer. It is tru§: 
 
418 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 that he harps a good deal on trifles, and on IdyUIo 
 repose ; indeed, he never entirely got rid of these tastes 
 of the Gleim school. But Gervinus is much too hard 
 upon him. Fot instance, if he had never written any- 
 thing else but "Die Morgensteme priesen in hohem 
 Jubelton," this alone ought to rescue him from obli- 
 vion. Then, again, his " Song for Ash "Wednesday," 
 his " Litany for All-Souls' Day," his lay of « The 
 Mother," are as true, tender, and musical as anything 
 of the kind in German. Nor must we omit to mention 
 his " Sagt wo sind die Veilchen hin," so much sung forty 
 or fifty years ago. 
 
 The next person of this group whom we shall men- 
 tion is Anne Louise Karsch. Her history is a remark- 
 able one. Although born in humble circumstances, and 
 subject all her days to poverty and wretchedness; in 
 cold and hunger picking up sticks in the wood ; mal- 
 treated by her second husband, a drunken, miserable 
 tailor ; still this woman, without any literary culture, 
 never lost the poetic faculty of her youth. She would 
 write verses upon the Great King quite as good as 
 those of Gleim and his choir. At times she really pro- 
 duced some poetical ideas of no little merit, but she 
 was not able to put them in shape. We may adduce 
 the touching poem to her deceased uncle, the instructor 
 of her youth, " Kommt heraufgestiegen aus dem Sande 
 ilir Gebeine die ihr in dem Lande meiner Tugend eure 
 Euhehabt;" also, "Wilhelms Frage bei dem friihen 
 Tode seines Bruders.'" In fact, Jacobi's song above 
 cited, " Die Morgensterne priesen," was inspired by 
 her " Wo war ich als dich Morgensterne lobten." Her 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 419 
 
 talents were inherited by her daughter, the Baroness 
 Klencke, and her grand-daughter, Madame de Chezy. 
 
 The most important personage in this group Is Carl 
 Wilhelm Ramler ; but he may be considered rather as 
 a connecting link between it and Lessing, on the one 
 hand, and Klopstook on the other. The best of his 
 poems, like his friend Gleim's, turn upon Prussian 
 patriotism ; the rest of them are empty and unsubstan- 
 tial. As a sharp, clear, unsparing critic, he resembles 
 Lessing. In ode-wnting, he was the pupil of Klop- 
 Btock; but eschewing that poet's extravagances, his 
 odes have a finish and precision of form, which make 
 them models in their way. Indeed, the whole modern 
 art of translation from the antique is due to the fine ear 
 and correct perception of Kamler ; and but for him, the 
 hexameters of Voss, the trimeters of Solger, and the 
 anapEests of Platen would have been impossible. It has 
 been remarked that Ramler s imitations of the antique 
 betray too often a stiffness and timidity, — that he is 
 prone to the artificial pedantry of the Opitz school, and 
 too apt to bore the reader with mythological ornament- 
 ation. But what is worse still, in his later years, he 
 became so given to filing and polishing, that in this 
 mechanical operation he either forgot or purposely 
 neglected the matter and substance of his poems. In 
 this respect he has, with some justice, been compared to 
 Gottsched. So great was the confidence his friends 
 Lessing and others reposed in his critical acumen, that 
 they subjected their poems to his supervision and cor- 
 rection. Such a mania for altering and revising seized 
 him in consequence, that he slashed and cut whatever 
 
 T 6 
 
420 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 he got hold of in a most merciless manner, without the 
 least regard to the style of the writer, so that it is diffi- 
 cult to say what Kamler wrote and what the author. 
 Among other things, he hit upon the strange fancy of 
 converting Geszner's prose idyls into his own rigorous 
 verse — an undertaking that brought him into great, 
 discredit. He also translated the odes of Horace, a 
 work for which at one time no praise was thought too 
 great, but which afterwards was pronounced contempt- 
 ible by its previous admirers. 
 
 There is a perceptible difference between the trans- 
 lations of the fifteen odes which Eamler published in 
 1769, and the rest, which are of later date. The former 
 are full of the spirit of Horace, with none of that timid 
 accuracy so conspicuous in most of the latter. 
 
 This Gleim-Eamler group diverged into two branches ; 
 which have continued in a great measure independent of 
 the revolution which the poetical world afterwards un- 
 derwent. The first of these is represented by Christopher 
 August Tiedge (died March 8, 1841). Connected with 
 Gleim in early days, his smaller lyric pieces have quite 
 the toying playfulness, the insignificance, and. the 
 poverty of matter, so characteristic of that writer. In 
 form, however, they exhibit somewhat more finish ; but 
 upon . examination, this will be found to be little more 
 than empty jingle. His didactic poem "Urania" is 
 more celebrated. In this he sings of immortality in a 
 cloudy dress of sentimental phrase, with the doctrines 
 of Kant before his eye, — principles the very opposite of 
 everything that is poetical. In those days, when it 
 was the fashion to combine dry abstractions and orato- 
 
THE NEW PEBIOD. 421 
 
 rical sentimentalities, the " Urania " made quite a furore 
 in certain coteries ; just in the same way as the " Hal- 
 ladat" of Gleim, the master of this school, had made a 
 great sensation in the same circles forty years before. 
 
 The other branch of this school is Slagemann, but 
 lately deceased. His lyrics are like Eamler's in their 
 patriotism, their precision of form, and also fii, the 
 insignificance of their matter. His songs of liberty 
 and those to his wife are deservedly forgotten. 
 
 "We now turn to the second or greater half of the 
 New Period. 
 
 Klopstock's deep and genuine enthusiasm ; Lessing's 
 sharp, clear criticism ; and last, not least, Wieland's 
 reckless exhibition of sensuality, had set all the young 
 spirits of Germany in a ferment. The best of them 
 had arrived at the conviction that the culture hitherto 
 in vogue would no longer do ; that a radical change 
 must be wrought in poetry. 
 
 All the poetic forms and materials of the last one 
 hundred and fifty years became the object of a vehe- 
 ment attack. The rising youth of the day stormed and 
 raged against them. Something better they would 
 have, something original; not what they had been 
 taught and learned. The longing and the struggle to 
 get back to the very foundations of human culture and 
 human society, indicated, as we have seen, by the 
 Deists, by the writers of the Kobinsonades, by Montes- 
 quieu and Rousseau, with their novel doctrines about 
 government and society ; by Klopstock, with his pri- 
 mEBval German heroism j — it was this desire vhich' 
 
422 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 manifested itself, though in another shape, among all 
 the greatest spirits of Grermany about the year 1770. 
 The impulse was sudden and universal. It was the 
 same impulse which in France, twenty-two years later, 
 without undergoing that wholesome intellectual pro- 
 cess it had gone through in Germany, threw itself with 
 wild violence upon every existing institution, and upset 
 society, church and state, while straining after an 
 impossible ideal. The whole nation was seized by an 
 uncontrollable desire to get rid of all its traditional 
 culture, to return to a state of aboriginal nature. But 
 in Germany the process was an intellectual one, 
 thoroughly worked out in the mind of the nation. 
 The revolution they wrought was in the domain of 
 intellect ; they sighed and sought for a regeneration of 
 the poetic gifts and powers of the nation, and this 
 object was accomplished. 
 
 The period of this poetic revolution, also called " the 
 Storm and Impulse Period," after Klinger's drama, 
 "Die Sturm- und Drang-Periode," commenced with 
 ■the appearance of Herder, in 1707, includes Herder, 
 i Basedow, Goethe, Lavater, Lenz, Klinger, Miiller, and 
 the Stolbergs, and ended with Schiller, in 1781. How- 
 ever different these were in talent and mode of think- 
 ing, they all agreed in this, that there was something 
 darkly hovering in the depths of their soul, to which 
 they longed to give a voice and an existence ; that the 
 ideas within them were original, were diametrically 
 opposed to anything hitherto known, and owed their 
 parentage to them and nobody else. They felt that 
 they were born to be the regenerators of the intellectual 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 423 
 
 Avorld, to promulgate a new poetical revolution, drawn 
 from the primteval poetry of the nations. But these 
 were only the aspirations of young poetical geniuses, 
 full of power and activity. Hitherto there was no 
 fruit, and the crop might 'be blasted by vanity, by 
 premature prodigality of their gifts, by the numerous 
 other dangers to which these ardent spirits were ex- 
 posed. In fact, some of them fell a prey to the way- 
 ward eccentricities they indulged in, or were consumed 
 in the flickering, unsteady flame of their own genius. 
 Still, in spite of all their perverseness, their vagaries, 
 their fancies, one and the same watchword served for 
 the whole mass. They must recur to popular poetry, 
 with Shakspeare and Homer for their models. These 
 were the words of power that dissolved now and for 
 ever the crumbling fabric of three centuries, "learned 
 poetry." Strange as it may sound, it is nevertheless 
 literally true, that though Homer had been read and 
 re-read, and noted upon, and translated, for three hun- 
 dred years, the Germans were essentially ignorant of 
 its meaning. It was now that they first entered into 
 the spirit of the Greek poet ; and no sooner was this 
 done than they at once learned also to comprehend 
 their own old national poetry, and thence to appreciate 
 the national poetry of the cognate races of Europe. 
 The lesson had been a laborious one, but it was at 
 leno-th mastered, and its mastery is due to the energetic, 
 uneasy spirits of the said Storm and Impulse Period. 
 
 But we must now individualise the writers who 
 solved the problem, and proclaimed the solution to 
 their countrymen. As poetical producers, Hamann 
 
424 GEfiMAN LITERATUEE. 
 
 and his pupil Herder are comparatively of no great 
 account ; their merit is that they spote first, and spoke 
 effectually — " This is the way, walk ye in it/' This 
 jire know to be true of Hamann, if from nothing else, 
 from Goethe's express statement to this effect. 
 
 Hamann urged a return to the simplicity of the 
 "most ancient poetry — to the childhood of the peoples, 
 and their child-like faith, as the true basis for the reno- 
 vation of poetry. He urged it, not with the reasoning 
 of a logical understanding, but with the full energy of 
 his character. He pointed to the Old Testament as 
 containing the elements of the oldest and most perfect 
 poetry — as the source of that natural power, that fresh- 
 ness and simplicity necessary for the production of 
 grand poetry. Poetry he showed to be an unsearch- 
 able mystery, not a business of the market-place, a 
 mechanical craft to be plied in public. He it was who 
 first became conscious, and taught others the same, that 
 everything great in this world is not effected by the un- 
 derstanding, or by the sensations, or by prudence, but 
 by the whole heart and soul and body — all the human 
 powers working in unison. He did not arrive at this 
 conclusion from investigation, but by instinct, by his 
 own immediate conviction. It was part and parcel of 
 his natural character. He was branded, in conse- 
 quence, by the spokesmen of the day as an abstruse 
 dreamer, and even Gervinus has joined in the cry 
 against him. Doubtless, many defects may be dis- 
 covered in his style. It is anything but beautiful 
 — full of sibylline senteaces, incomprehensible allu- 
 sions, obscure expressions, sudden jumps. But, as 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 425 
 
 aforesaid, we do not profess to weigh his merits as a 
 poet, but only as one who animated his contemporaries 
 to better things. 
 
 In the same manner we must look upon Johann 
 Gottfried Herder, not in the light of a creator, but of 
 a pioneer in a better path, as one who awakened the 
 national consciousness, elevated the people's aspirations. 
 In this, his influence was incalculable. His was the 
 innate faculty, fostered in a great measure by the 
 study of Shakspeare and Homer, of throwing himself 
 into the noblest parts of the inner life of all nations ; 
 of bringing these foreign elements home to the heart 
 of others. He was a universalist in the highest sense. 
 If the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries had tried to 
 comprehend the Greeks and the Eomans, if the next 
 succeeding period had endeavoured to appreciate and 
 import from France and the Netherlands, from Italy 
 and England, it was in Herder that these endeavours 
 first saw their end and accomplishment. Nay he went 
 much further. It was from him and him only, that 
 Germany learned to study and comprehend all the other 
 nations of the earth, the Arab, the Persian, the Hindu, 
 the Malay, the Chinese, the red men of America, with 
 their language, their genius, their customs and poetry, 
 their love and hate, to sympathise with their secret joys 
 and sorrows. He it was who paved the way to an 
 historical and comparative study of language. 
 
 This universalism of Herder's stamped its classic 
 character on the literature of this period, clothing the 
 best materials in the noblest and most appropriate 
 forms. He finished what Klopstock and Lessing 
 
426 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 began ; wedded the genius of Germany to the genius 
 of foreign nations ; took foreign matter and clothed 
 it in German forms, and vice versa. 
 
 In 1767 appeared his "Fragmenten zur deutschen 
 Literatur," and in 1768 his " Kritische Walder." In 
 this last publication he first disclosed the essence of 
 Homer, and made it comprehensible to his countrymen. 
 Being a clergyman, he next turned to a study which 
 must have been congenial to him, that of the poetry 
 of Revelation, and brought out his " Aelteste Urkunde 
 des Mensohengeschlechts," a subject which he pursued 
 in several other treatises, e. g. in his " Vom Geiste der 
 Ebraischen Poesie." In these he regards the Old 
 Testament as a sublime and original creation, chiefly, 
 however, of the human mind. From that time forward, 
 at all events, the old notion was exploded, — the notion 
 inculcated by the English and French deists, — that the 
 Old Testament was a mass of tasteless fables, the 
 product of a rude, undeveloped race of men. One 
 injurious consequence, however, of Herder's view was, 
 that the maxim came into vogue of measuring Revela- 
 tion according to the world, instead of the world 
 according to Revelation. 
 
 Another important work of Herder's is his " Von 
 deutscher Art und Kunst." Here he restores the 
 oldest national songs to their poetic rights as the 
 source and standard of all poetry, and vindicates them 
 from the aspersions that had been thrown upon them. 
 As the nation had before learnt what an epos was from 
 his disquisitions on Homer, so from these disquisitions 
 they first were able to comprehend the nature of lyric 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 427 
 
 popular poetry as opposed to the poetry of art. The 
 ideas he here broached were further taken up and 
 more accurately defined and developed by the brothers 
 Grimm, and the Romantic school. , 
 
 But Herder was something more than a literary 
 reformer. He also exercised a healing influence on 
 society. By restoring the people's poetry to its legiti- 
 mate place, he raised the condition of the people also. 
 The common man could not now be looked down upon 
 as one of the rude, stupid rabble. It was impossible, 
 henceforth, for the higher classes to claim poetry and 
 letters as their exclusive privilege. The intellectual 
 life of the masses asserted for itself a due share of 
 importance. And this put an effectual check on, the 
 mock enlightenment of the day, which thought the best 
 thing for the people was to rob them of every natural 
 characteristic, all their intellectual inheritance, and 
 stuff them with the odds and ends of a spurious culture. 
 No wonder, then, that Herder was hated alike by the 
 old intellectual oligarchies and by the new and shallow 
 illuminati. Schlozer said "he was one of that new 
 race of theologians, those gallant, witty gentlemen, 
 who are equally fond of dogmas and street ballads." 
 Nicolai also attacked him in "Kleyner feyner Al- 
 manach von Volksliedern." This elicited, in 1788, 
 Herder's " Stimmen der Volker in Liedern ;" a collec- 
 tion of ballads of all nations ; most of which, however, 
 had undergone a good deal of transformation in his 
 hands ; the German ones the least. He had conceived 
 the idea of such a work as far back as 1773. It was 
 the first collection of the kuid ; although some popular 
 
428 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 songs had appeared separately in Jacobi's " Iris," and 
 other publications. 
 
 With no less eagerness Herder turned his attention 
 to legendary lore and its delicate creations, so long 
 sealed up to the people. His observations on this 
 species of literature, and the valuable light thrown by 
 it on the customs of past times, are excellent. As an 
 original poet, Herder does not shine. His best poetical 
 compositions are imitations and translations of popular 
 songs. In these, however, we discover that wonderful 
 power he possessed, of throwing his own spirit into 
 foreign creations, of adapting his own mind and lan- 
 guage to the thoughts and sensations of others. Next 
 to these stand his legends ; the defect of which is that 
 they are too didactic. His last work was a version of 
 the " Cid " which did not appear till after his decease. 
 It cannot be denied that in these Spanish romances, he 
 has omitted some of the best parts. Occasionally, too, 
 he has departed from the spirit of the original, and 
 given his version a softness not to be found in his 
 Spanish prototype, and incompatible with the old heroic 
 poem. Still there is evidence enough that he was a 
 poetical genius of a high order ; and his " Cid " must 
 always rank among the best poetic creations of Ger- 
 many. 
 
 His other imitations and translations, e. g. the Greek 
 Epigrams, the Odes of Horace, and of more recent 
 Latin poets, the tales from the Greek mythology, all 
 exemplify his uncommon aptness for accommodating 
 himself to the minds of others without forfeiting his 
 own individuality ; while at the same time they have 
 
, THE NEW PERIOD. 429 
 
 not the flexibility and ease of the popular songa, nor 
 the music of the « Cid." 
 
 As for his entirely original poems, e. g. the secular 
 lyrics, one can hardly imagine they are written by the 
 same Herder ; they are so dogmatical, dry, and insipid. 
 His Christian and Church hymnS are equally infelici- 
 tous. We can understand why Klopstock failed to 
 catch the popular tone of the true church hymn. He 
 did not live among the people, but in the transcendental 
 atmosphere of his own exclusive sensations. But this 
 was not the case with Herder. He it was that had 
 first awakened the attention of his countrymen to 
 popular life and its claims. The only way therefore to 
 explain the artificiality, the design, and esoteric nature, 
 so to say, of his church hymns is, by saying that the 
 sense for what was popular was only just awaking, and 
 it was not to be expected that all the popular elements 
 of poetry should at once be conceived and thoroughly 
 appreciated. 
 
 His prose, especially that of his earlier works, re- 
 sembles Lessing's. In his " Kritische Walder " he 
 evidently imitates him. There is the same flexibility, 
 the same endeavour, and with no less success, to be 
 dialectical ; but he wants the classic repose and trans- 
 parency of Lessing. Some of his works are in dithy- 
 rambic vein ; high-flown and Klopstockian, e. g. " Die 
 alteste Urkunde des Menschengeschlechts ;" and in a 
 less degree, the treatise on the " Spirit of Hebrew Poe- 
 try," and the " Philosophy of the History of Mankind." 
 
 His best prose is unquestionably that written in 
 imitation of Lessing ; but there is not that enduring 
 
430 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 interest in it that belongs to the prose of Lessing. The 
 reason is, that there is a something spasmodic and un- 
 equal in Herder, very different from the calmness of 
 Lessing. With a tinge of Hamann's whimsicality, 
 which in Herder becomes humour, he is at one moment 
 off to the remotest regions of his universal knowledge, 
 and in the next back to the narrow limits of his own 
 individuality — ^letting us see the grand whole, which 
 he has to show us, only through the prism of his own 
 thoughts, sensations, and feelings. Again, he is full of 
 fits and starts, scintillations and flashes — a conceit 
 which has been much affected by the later German 
 humorists, of whom, in fact, he may be called the in- 
 tellectual father. With Herder's scientific activity — 
 his relation to the philosophy of Kant — his theological 
 correspondence, which was of much importance when 
 he wrote it — with his historical works, e. g. " Ideen zur 
 Philosophic der Geschichte der Menscheit," his most 
 celebrated work, but which has been long superseded — 
 we have no concern here, any more than with the 
 minutiffi of his life. Suffice it to say that he could 
 agree with nobody but Wieland. He was accused of 
 priestly pride, of arrogance, censoriousness, and hyper- 
 criticism. But, whatever his faults, this much at least 
 is true, that he was the Atlas of the new poetical world 
 of Germany.* 
 
 * Herder -was torn August 25th, 1744, at Morungen, in East Prussia, 
 in indigent circumstances. The difficulties he had to contend with in 
 raising himself to independence were even greater than those encoun- 
 tered by Klopstock and Lessing ; and the struggle accounts for many 
 peculiarities of his character. In 1765 he became teacher at the Cathe- 
 dral School at Kiga. Subsequently he travelled, part of the time, as 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 431 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 There was no one upon whom Herder exercised a 
 greater influence than Johann Wolfgang Goethe. It 
 will be impossible, however, in a work like this, to give 
 a complete history of this greatest of tbe^moaerii Ger- 
 man poets. Indeed, the time has not yet come for 
 forming a thorough and complete estimate of his cha- 
 racter and writings. The reader must be content with 
 some hasty outlines instead of an elaborate picture. 
 Goethe's first poetical period precedes the year 1775, 
 when he became attached to the Court of Weimar, and 
 corresponds exactly with the " Storm and Impulse 
 Period." 
 
 Goethe himself has related how, when he was resid- 
 ing at Strasburg, he was drawn by Herder, his senior 
 only by five years, but greatly his superior in point of 
 sureness and clearness of views and in knowledge, 
 into the intellectual struggle then raging among the 
 young and ardent spirits of the day. Goethe was 
 the very poet that Herder had imagined, but could not 
 himself embody — the genius who, by the force of his 
 own natural powers, went to life and the realities of the 
 world around for the matter of his inspiration, mould- 
 ing these into poetical shape — who spoke to the heart 
 from the heart, and uttered what was to be in every- 
 body's mouth. He threw off the trammels with which 
 
 companion to a Prince of Holstern. From 1770 to 1775 he was Court 
 Preacher at Biickeburg j from 1776, Court Preacher and General Super- 
 intendent at "Weimar, where he died, 18th December, 1803. The last 
 collective edition of his -works is Cotta's, 1827-1830, in 60 volumes. 
 
432 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 his predecessors in poetry were bound — its rules of art, 
 its traditional models: The genius of reality was 
 henceforward to be in the ascendant. Even Klopstock, 
 as we have seen, was mastered by his material. It was 
 reserved for the resolution and energy of the young 
 Goethe to show how the poet could master his matter. 
 What he sang he had felt and experienced ; it was his 
 own heart's property. Unlike the matter of contem- 
 porary poems, the matter of his was pure, and sound, 
 and tranquil, bearing none of the impress of individual 
 circumstances — of the uneasy fretfulness of the moment, 
 of passion and inward struggle. His truth and warmth 
 of feeling, together with that clear, profound calm of 
 soul — the free and unfettered movement of his poetry — 
 tlie great facility with which he suffers himself to be 
 absorbed by the topic, or absorbs it into himself, alter- 
 nately objective and subjective, at will — all this was 
 natural to Goethe, and goes to form the elements of his 
 poetical greatness. The other poets of his time, not 
 excepting Klopstock, tried to be something; Goethe 
 was what he was without effort. His earliest lyric pro- 
 ductions are so true, so warm, so hearty and touching ; 
 they betoken such inward certainty and firmness, that 
 nothing but the old Volkslled can be compared with 
 them. The latter, doubtless, to some extent served as 
 his model of imitation, e. g. in his " Heiden-roslein," 
 " Der Konig in Thule," " Das Lied eines gefangenen 
 Grafen," &c. We will only further mention his 
 "Gliick und Traum," " Stirbt der Fuchs so gilt der 
 Balg," " Sehnsucht," " Nachtgesang," the poems to 
 Lilli or Belinde, the " Trost in Thranen," the last of 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 433 
 
 which is one of the best lyrics in any language. All 
 these poems relate his own experiences, his own love- 
 stories, yet there is no unruly passion in them — no 
 troubled fermentation of feeling struggling vainly for 
 expression, or, if it hits on the right expression, only 
 doing so by chance. The fermentation is over; we 
 have nought but the golden wine, sparkling and fra- 
 grant. No cries of passion or disquiet break in to 
 disturb the melodious sounds, which, like happy spirits, 
 hover lightly over the tumult and the troubles of the 
 world. 
 
 In all these poems we trace a heartfelt feeling for 
 nature. The various seasons, with their blossoms and 
 their falling leaves, their heats and their storms, are 
 here. They form, however, not the fore-ground, but 
 the back-ground of the picture. There is no excessive 
 scene-painting. There is not a line in the poem where 
 we don't feel the life and the truth of nature without 
 her being obtruded upon us in due form, and described 
 in full. The feelings, too, are not shadowy and un- 
 steady, based upon nothing, — not mere fleeting pa- 
 roxysms ; they appear with firm outline, in clear and 
 delicate colours. The action, moreover, is true, and in 
 the most natural sequence. This sublime repose, this 
 plastic grandeur, is most conspicuous in those pieces 
 which are inspired from a keen perception of the 
 antique mythus, e, g. in " Grenzen der Menschheit," 
 " Prometheus," " Gesang der Gfiister Uber den "Was- 
 sern," " An Schwager Kronos," " Ganymed," &c. 
 
 What has been said of Goethe's early lyrics applies, 
 some of it even with greater force, to his " Gotz von 
 
 u 
 
434 GERMAN LITEEATCEl!. 
 
 Berllehingeiij " and the "Leiden Werthers." Tte 
 former rose out of the intimate acquaintance which 
 he made with Shakspeare's works at the instance of 
 Herder. The matter of this drama is derived from an 
 early period of German popular life, and the whole is 
 shaped in the Shakspearian spirit, but with none of 
 the slavish imitation so common then and since. Per- 
 haps there is no other work of Groethe's that so well ex- 
 emplij&es his power of living over again the time that is 
 past, of absorbing himself entirely into the subject. It 
 was quite by chance that he had taken up the book of 
 the Franconian knight, which, of all the literary pro- 
 ducts of the sixteenth century is one of the most dull 
 and unreadable ; and with his extraordinary power of 
 assimilation, he managed to take in the life and spirit 
 of those days, and out of the whole evolve a drama, 
 which, for historic truth, poetic freshness, for its popular 
 touches and delicacy, nowhere finds a parallel. We 
 are here transplanted, as if by magic, into the very 
 life, the ideas, the circumstances of those days. The 
 obscure Franconian knight assumes, in our eyes, a 
 shape and proportions pretty nearly such as those with 
 which the people of the twelfth and thirteenth century 
 invested the popular hero, Duke Ernest. It was no 
 ideal of ancient days that Groethe sought to place 
 before his readers ; but real flesh and blood people just 
 as they were, with their earnestness and folly, their 
 love and hatred. The actors in the great national 
 movement of the sixteenth century rise up before us, 
 and show us of what stuff they were made. They don't 
 think, and feel, and talk, but act. And that is the 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 435 
 
 reason why the Germans, in reading " Gotz," could 
 almost fancy they were reading a bit of their own youth- 
 ful history. In Gotz, and those around him, they could 
 recognise themselves and their dear old forefathers ; 
 and rejoiced in their presence just as the people of 
 earlier centuries rejoiced in the presence of the old 
 kings and heroes of the popular epic. Such a work as 
 this is truer than all historical expositions. Indeed, it 
 is not too much to affirm, that whatever real know- 
 ledge the public acquired of the sixteenth century, they 
 got from "Gotz von Berlichingen." In the selection of 
 the hero of his piece Goethe evinced consummate tact. 
 He is not one of the leading persons of the days of the 
 Reformation. A far greater effect is produced by 
 keeping those historical personages in the back-ground. 
 
 Again, the matter of the piece bears a strong affinity 
 to the state of Germany at the time when it was 
 written. There the sturdy barons and chivalry of the 
 empire are engaged in a stout conflict with the new 
 political order of things and its modern innovations. 
 Here Goethe and the original geniuses of the day were 
 fighting the battle of progress against the cramped and 
 bigoted tradition^of an antiquated culture. 
 
 This is the only thing " revolutionary " about the 
 work ; an epithet with which it has been unjustly 
 stigmatised by Gervinus and others. 
 
 The sole point in the piece worthy of reprehension 
 isj that Goethe assigns an undue prominence — a little 
 too much after the modern taste — to Adelheit. In the 
 original sketch of the play this fault was even more 
 conspicuous. The conclusion of the piece and death of 
 
 V 2 
 
436 GEBMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Gotz are likewise open to criticism. No wonder that 
 this play, gushing, as it did, from the wells of fervid pa- 
 triotism, excited the ire of the Frenchified Frederick II., 
 who pronounced it an "imitation detestable des mau- 
 vaises pieces anglaises," and full of d^goiitantes plati- 
 tudes. Indeed, those who admired it mistook its 
 purport ; for it stimulated the taste for wretched plays 
 and romances of chivalry. 
 
 One year later, and in the twenty-fifth year of his 
 age, Goethe wrote his " Werther." The matter of this 
 work is open to grave poetical objections. It describes 
 the sentimentality of the day, which had been stimu- 
 lated by the writings of Klopstock, and still more by 
 " Ossian," then so fashionable in Germany. It describes 
 the malady of the day, but not the cure. Goethe, as he 
 himself informs us, was avictim to this disease, which con- 
 sists in a complete prostration of the moral and physical 
 faculties, in a painfully passive state ; during which the 
 sufierer is the sport of all sorts of whims, humours, 
 fancies, and feelings. Nay, these are his very meat 
 and drink ; he luxuriates in tears. So exquisitely sen- 
 sitive is he, that the least contact with the external 
 world is death to him. He shrinks from his fellow- 
 men and tbeir affairs, as the disturbers of his inward 
 world with its sweet sensations and dreams. Inanimate 
 nature, on the other hand, is his consuming passion. 
 The dumb animals, too, how intensely he loves them • 
 they are his only true friends ; they will sympathise, 
 but not meddle, with his heart's bitterness and joy. 
 Life, alas ! has no charms, no hopes, for him ; he longs 
 for death, and die he does. This malady — which was 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 437 
 
 the inevitable conclusion of that passion for a primitive 
 state of nature^ and that antipathy for all the traditions 
 of civilisation, action, knowledge, and belief — prevailed 
 in Germany from the year 1765 till about the time of 
 the French Eevolution, and swallowed up some of the 
 best of the nation's powers, physical and intellectual. 
 Among several grades of society it continued till the 
 time of the war of freedom, when Germany at last got 
 rid of It. As aforesaid, Goethe caught the infection, 
 but his sound and vigorous mind at last triumphed 
 over the complaint, and the fruit of this victory is 
 " Werther/' With the completion of the work, so he 
 himself tells us, he entirely recovered. This is the key, 
 then, to that most lively and truthful description of the 
 youth living for himself and in himself: with his in- 
 tense passion for nature, his melancholy, his intellectual 
 coma, his self-tormentings, his waverings between 
 resisting and giving way to his morbid feelings, his 
 final despondency and deatL The poet experienced all 
 this, except the last. But we must not look on this book 
 as merely sentimentality in the rough, with its wild 
 mass of distracting feelings, its excruciating discontents 
 and despondency. It is the poetry of the thing that 
 we have before us. Goethe has come out of the fierce 
 ordeal ; from his distant eminence the poet calmly 
 surveys the scene, and from his individual experiences, 
 he generalises into universal truths, feelings felt by all. 
 But the world did not look upon the work from this 
 poetical, and, indeed, only admissible, point of view. 
 They regarded " Werther " as an apology for senti- 
 mentality, an apology for suicide ; and, consequently, 
 
 n 3 
 
438 GEEMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 it promoted the very disease it was meant to cure : 
 the disease of which Goethe had cured himself. The 
 " Werther-fever " became an epidemic. Lotte and 
 Werther, in print and portrait, were disseminated 
 all over Germany ; nay, throughout Europe ; even as 
 far as China. Every syllable of the tale was believed 
 to be true, and so everybody tried to fix the characters 
 on some real individuals. Those who lived in the 
 neighbourhood of L"t)tte's abode were aware of the in- 
 tense interest and curiosity felt for her. English 
 travellers even now visit a mound of earth, called 
 " Werther 's grave," which has been heaped up by a 
 speculative innkeeper at Wetzlar. 
 
 Of Goethe's other juvenile productions, his " Laune 
 des Verliebten," and his " Mitschuldigen," are mere 
 studies, interesting only as contributions to the history 
 of his mind. They belong to the old school, not to the 
 new Goethe; but they exemplify his peculiarity of 
 ridding himself of the unpleasant influence of actual 
 life by means of poetic shapes. 
 
 " Clavigo " is a great descent from " Gotz,'' — Merk 
 coarsely stigmatised it as " ein Quark" (trifle); — and 
 " Stella" from « Werther." 
 
 His " Pater Brey " is a capital satire on that class of 
 men who "make hill and valley all alike, and smear 
 everything over with lime and gypsum ; " those egotis- 
 tic levellers who are always meddling ; and without the 
 faintest notion of the meaning of things, desire to 
 square them according to their own standard. This 
 class of individuals Is again sketched in Mittler, a 
 character in the " Wahlverwandtschaften." 
 
THE NEW TEKIOD. 439 
 
 One could hardly believe that this piece, " Pater 
 Broy," so sharply and smootlily written, was originally 
 a purely personal satire on Leuchsenring, the Jesuit- 
 hunter; Merk is the Grocer, and Balandrino and 
 Leonore, Herder and his bride. 
 
 In like manner, the " Satyros" is an almost pro- 
 phetical sketch of the revolutionary propagandists and 
 professing regenerators of the age, though it probably, 
 in the first instance, is a hit at Basedow. So the 
 " Jahrmarkt zu Plundersweilen" is a lively picture of 
 the naiTow-mindedness of a small market-town. The 
 satire on D. Bahrdt of Giessen, and his modernisation 
 of Christianity, is famous ; as also that on Wieland's 
 pitiful description of Greek heroes in the " Alceste." 
 All these pieces are in Hans Sachs'es form, and show 
 what a poetical genius can effect even with obsolete 
 forms. By tliese imitations, and the excellent poem, 
 " Hans Saclisens poetische Sendung," he brought the 
 worthy old poet into notice. Some fragments of simi- 
 lar pieces of his have lately been published. Of all the 
 poetical schemes of this period, none were ever realised 
 but " Faust^" whicli stuck by him for sixty years. 
 Guided by a true instinct, he relinquished his " Pro- 
 metl\eus," " Mahomet," and the " Wandering Jew." 
 
 On commencing his residence and official duties at 
 Weimar, Gt)ethe's poetic progress became impeded. 
 For neai'ly ten years he published notliing of note. 
 Many people imagined then, and do so now, that this 
 life of business and tlie court stunted and nipped the 
 fresh sprouts of his genius, thus disappointing the hopes 
 raised by his eai-ly productions. But the practical ac- 
 
440 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 tivity of actual life was an indispensable necessity of 
 his existence ; and while thus occupied, he was bracing 
 himself for new efforts. This much, however, is true, 
 that by his intercourse with the Court of Weimar he 
 ceased to be a popular poet. It is also true that, for a 
 continuance, the place did not afford him enough scope 
 for intellectual activity, or material for poetry. Im- 
 pressed with this conviction, he tore himself from it, 
 and took his journey to Italy, in order, by enlarging 
 his sphere of observation, and by studying the treasures 
 of plastic art, to give more precision to his hand in mass 
 and form, and a wider scope to his thoughts. It may 
 be that he had other reasons for this journey ; but, at 
 all events, it had the very best effects on him as a poet. 
 
 His Italian journey brought about the completion of 
 his « Iphigenie," « Egmont," « Tasso," « Claudine," 
 and " Faust" — the latter still as a fragment, but a 
 fragment that embraced a world. 
 
 The first sketch of the " Iphigenie," which has been 
 recently published among his works, was in prose. In 
 Italy he metamorphosed it into iambics of five feet. In 
 this drama he solves the problem of that day — how to 
 embody in a German form the spirit of antiquity, — 
 how to amalgamate them, so that they suit exactly the 
 one to the other. The deep, majestic repose of the 
 dramatis ■persona, in spite of all their Inward emotions, 
 the grand simplicity of the action and the language, 
 the pellucidness of the whole — all this is in the tho- 
 roughly antique spirit ; it is not an imitation, however, 
 but a reproduction. At the .same time there Is a slmpli- 
 <;ity and sincerity {Geist der Innigheii) about the whole, 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 441 
 
 and a gentle breath of peace (e. g. at the conclusion), 
 that are essentially German. Of real action there is 
 little. This defect, in fact, has often been imputed to 
 the German drama. But here, to use Schiller's words, 
 we have thought in action; so that this very defect 
 may stand not only as a warning, but a model of imita- 
 tion, — first, to those who think the essence of the 
 drama consists in a hurried succession of incidents, in 
 action heaped upon action ; and secondly, to those who, 
 neglecting action, run riot in rhetorical exposition. 
 Here they both can learn, as Schiller says, " to make 
 thought, action," (Gesinnung zur Handlung machen.) 
 For the rest, it may be observed that " Iphigenie" is 
 no national drama like " Gotz ;" but this is only a 
 proof of the versatility of the poet's powers. 
 
 " Tasso," which was also originally in prose, and was 
 converted into a poetic shape under a southern sky, 
 lies open, in a still greater degree, to the objection of 
 want of action. But this is in some measure com- 
 pensated by the exceeding delicacy and clearness, 
 the firmness and precision with which the characters 
 are drawn. The dialogue at the beginning of the piece 
 between the Princess and Eleonore, with its delicate 
 adumbrations, which almost look undesigned, of the 
 whole course of the drama, is a great artistic treat. 
 The initiated will discover something more than meets 
 the eye. The man who can, from a feature or a word, 
 unriddle a character and draw auguries of its future 
 conflict with the world, has something here to muse 
 upon with delight. Hardly any work is more calcu-' 
 lated to put one out of conceit with common-place 
 
442 GERMAN LITEEATCEE. 
 
 romances than " Tasso." One may return to It again 
 and again. In one respect It resembles "Werther." 
 It describes the poet's own experiences, — his own cir- 
 cumstances ; but here he has emancipated himself from 
 them, and they assume a clear and independent shape. 
 
 " Egmont " did not, like " Iphlgenie " and " Tasso," 
 first pass through the alembic of prose. There are ine- 
 qualities in it, and a perceptible lack of completeness and 
 finish, e. g. in the condemnation and execution scenes. 
 It may be pronounced more a series of studies than one 
 complete work of art. There Is not enough tragical 
 grandeur about the hero. Schiller says the historic 
 hero was greater than the dramatic one. The cream 
 of the piece are the favourite scenes with Clarchen, 
 which are the oldest, and are also derived from the 
 poet's personal experiences. 
 
 In 1831, Goethe finished his sixty-five years' poetical 
 career, by producing that long-nourished conception of 
 his, " Faust." As early as 1773 it was written down 
 much the same in matter as when it, " as a frag- 
 ment," appeared in 1790, although the critical knife 
 and file had been vigorously used to his earlier designs 
 of It. Little was added to the matter of it after his 
 Italian journey. The most important addition is the 
 " Hexenkuche," written at Rome in the Garden Bor- 
 ghese. But in the year 1808 " Faust" appeared as a 
 tragedy. In this edition he has added Faust's soli- 
 loquy, which is followed by the Easter scene, the first 
 conversation and agreement between Faust and Me- 
 phistopheles, the death of Valentin, and lastly, aU that 
 now stands in the piece, from the Walpurgis night to 
 
, THE NEW PEBIOD. 443 
 
 the end. The fragment of 1790 ended with the scene 
 in the Minster. The idea lying at the bottom of this 
 saga of Dr. Faust of the sixteenth century is a highly 
 poetical one. It is the inextinguishable thirst of man 
 for a degree of knowledge surpassing all the lengths 
 and depths of human understanding; the straining after 
 powers and enjoyments which he must be content to 
 dispense with in this prison of flesh. Even in the old 
 saga we have the Titanic nature of man rising out of 
 the dark profound, storming upwards to the very gates 
 of Heaven, and perishing fearfully in the attempt. It 
 is, in fact, the Psychological side of the old fable of 
 the " Titans." 
 
 The period when Goethe composed " Faust " la- 
 boured under similar symptoms. Men yearned to know 
 what had never yet come within the sphere of human 
 knowledge ; to penetrate even into the supernatural, 
 exactly as in the days of the historical " Faust." They 
 were sick of traditional science and " grey theory ;" 
 they strove to clutch the golden fruit on the green tree 
 of life. Independent inquiry ; nothing else would 
 satisfy them; they sought for something, they knew 
 not what ; they wandered restlessly onward without a 
 guide, and not knowing whither they went ; with no 
 clear or certain aim they rushed into the infinite ; the 
 calm satisfaction of fruition had no charms for them ; 
 in the wanton exuberance of youthful strength they 
 would take nothing for granted ; they would acknow- 
 ledge nothing that they had not felt and done, and 
 experienced themselves. Such was the spirit of the 
 days on which Goethe had fallen, and it is reflected in 
 
 u 6 
 
444 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 " Faust." We must not, however, look at this drama 
 from this historic point of view only ; otherwise it is a 
 mere picture of that particular time. But it is more 
 than this; it is a picture of the world. Into this cate- 
 gory the poet exalted it from the very first. It became 
 still more so by the addition of the "Prologue in 
 Heaven," and most of all by the very latest additions 
 above mentioned. In the second part, however, it sinks 
 from the grandeur of an universal world-picture Into the 
 narrower confines of a picture of the time, 
 
 Faust represents not an individual, but man ; man 
 in the independent exercise of his powers, endea^ 
 vouring in the energy of his soul and his will to trans- 
 cend " the flaming bounds of time and space," to take 
 the universe by storm ; man, too, in all the contra- 
 dictions of his nature, in his power and weakness, in 
 his certainty and doubt. In truth and error, knowledge 
 and ignorance. , 
 
 Faust will not rest till he has sounded all the 
 depths and recesses of hidden wisdom, till he has col- 
 lected all the knowledge that mankind has been gar- 
 nering up these thousands of years ; and lo, he has got 
 what he lusted for ; and what is it after all ? He has 
 the picture, but not the reality ; not living nature, but 
 dust and ashes, the skeleton of dead knowledge ; not 
 such wisdom as has bubbled up from the fresh fountain 
 of life, and which in its turn spreads abroad rills of 
 living water to refresh the plains of his own existence. 
 
 To know is not to do, it is not enjoyment ; then and . 
 then only can his desires be satisfied when his know- 
 ledge becomes deed, and every deed enjoyment. In- 
 
THE NEW PEBIOD. 445 
 
 deed, he cannot know anything really till he has tried 
 it, and experienced it himself. And, therefore, since 
 he has tried life, and it brings him no satisfaction, he 
 will try death, and that by his own hand. At this 
 moment, when he is on the point of taking the final 
 step, the clear tones of the Easter hymn sound in his 
 ears, " Christ has risen ! " At that sound his heart is 
 again restored to unity with itself, as in the days of his 
 boyhood. He can again enjoy the cheerful simplicity 
 of that existence, with its days of work and of merry- 
 making, when he lived contented in his burgher home. 
 But he is again invaded by new doubts. Those simple 
 enjoyments now pall upon his sense. He can no longer 
 lay hold on those great words of Revelation which but 
 now brought comfort to his soul. After that brief ele- 
 vation he falls all the deeper. He is drawn into the circle 
 of sensual pleasures ; he will drink deep of insatiable 
 delights ; his capacity for enjoyment shall have no limit. 
 He has done with knowledge ; he will experience, not 
 only joy, properly so called, but bitter delight and 
 sweet despair; in his simple self he will enjoy every- 
 thing that falls to the lot of universal humanity. And 
 so he plunges into the whirlpool of most complete en- 
 joyment, as aforetime he had plunged into the stream 
 of knowledge, that he may taste of all human joy and 
 all human woe, and be himself all in all. And so he 
 soars up to the highest summits of human pleasure 
 (Gretchen), and down to its foulest abysses (Journey 
 to the Brocken and Walpurgis night) ; destroys his own 
 enjoyment, destroys the enjoyment and the life of others, 
 and would like to come to a stand-still in his joys and 
 
446 GBEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 griefs, but dare not, cannot. The true-hearted maiden 
 is devoted to one joy, one grief only ; but Faust has no 
 heart for that; he must on to others, — must make 
 the whole round. Well may she exclaim, in hollow 
 tones, " Henry, you make me shudder ! " Gretchen will 
 go no further ; she halts in the midst of her immea- 
 surable woe, and therefore she is " saved ;" but Faust 
 is borne onward. " Hither to me I " is the last cry of 
 the Demon. 
 
 While in the first part of " Faust," the symbolical 
 and typical figures embrace a world ; in the second, 
 the robe of allegory is far too thin and scanty. There 
 is also much that is enigmatical in it, which it is vain to 
 seek to unriddle ; indeed, it is perhaps not at all worth 
 the while to attempt to do so. 
 
 In " Hermann and Dorothea," Goethe has most ad- 
 mirably solved the difficult problem of the possibility, 
 of constructing a " Burgher Epic," a poem that is, 
 which, in the purest epic style, recounts the transac- 
 tions of domestic middle-class life of the present day. 
 
 As in the genuine epic, the poet's own personality 
 is here kept entirely out of sight. He discards aU rhe- 
 toric as a means of working upon the feelings. He 
 uses description merely as the framework, employing 
 the action alone in its full purity and simplicity to 
 produce the effect required. At the same time, with 
 true epic tact, he permits us to have occasional glimpses 
 at a back-ground of great events ; and, in this respect, 
 the poem differ from Voss's idyl, " Luise," from which 
 he took the first idea. Some, who looked upon "Luise" 
 as the beau ideal of domestic life-painting, have pro- 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 447 
 
 nounced the " Hermann and Dorothea " an unworthy 
 imitation of it. This poem was composed by Goethe 
 at a time when he was in most lively intercourse with 
 Schiller, an intimacy by which, as he himself affirms, 
 he was stimulated and encouraged to further production. 
 But Schiller exercised no direct influence upon the com- 
 position. Indeed, in this poem, Goethe adhered to his 
 old rule of never taking anybody into his confidence, 
 about what he had in hand, until it was completed. 
 
 Not so in the case of " Wilhelm Meister," which 
 was the result of a long discussion between him and 
 Schiller, during which he made many alterations in the 
 original plan. The first six books were written as 
 early as 1785, before the poet's journey to Italy; but 
 it was not completed till just before he began " Her- 
 mann and Dorothea." It has been allowed on all 
 sides, that this work is very unequal ; and the begin- 
 ning and ending in no respect tally. There are here 
 many true and lively pictures of life, the result of the 
 author's own experience, and there is no little epic 
 freedom about it. But there is also in it a good deal of 
 unpoetic reality, not to say much that is revolting to the 
 moral sense. But the reader puts up with this in the 
 expectation of finally arriving at the truth, that a man 
 cannot become a great artist from the world around 
 him, unless he be born an artist ; unless he can, through 
 this innate power, draw the world outside into himself, 
 assimilate it, and spiritually reproduce it. But instead 
 of this, the action is dissolved in a cloud of mystery 
 and dogmatising; or, in plain English, the magnilo- 
 quent promises of the commencement end in smoke. 
 
448 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 The " Wahlverwandtschaften " (Elective Affinities) 
 surpasses " Wilhelm Meister " in artistic finish. Like 
 " Werther," which was written thirty-six years earlier, 
 it describes a psychological disease of the modern 
 world ; but without suggesting, or even wishing to 
 suggest, any remedy. Nay, strangely enough, sub- 
 mission to duty is here disease, and yielding to the 
 sensations, health ! The very title of the work, which 
 applies a chemical principle to the moral world, an- 
 nounces a description of the way in which the higher 
 will of human nature is bound to the lower powers of 
 nature. The immoral tendency of this work is appa- 
 rent. But it has this one merit : it gives a true history 
 of an inward malady, without any gloss or conceal- 
 ment. The poison is plain to see, its deadly effects 
 are apparent, but it is not permitted to come nigh us. 
 It is secured in a crystal flask of matcliless workman- 
 ship, made by the poet's own hand. The description, 
 in fact, has been executed with consummate skill. The 
 characters are like so many statues, so clearly are they 
 outlined. The circumstances are drawn with delicacy 
 and precision. The contrast between internal disquiet 
 and the peacefulness of external nature is most cleverly 
 managed. 
 
 Goethe's biographies, which he commenced soon 
 after the "Wahlverwandtschaften," and continued to his 
 death, have all the excellencies and none of the faults 
 of that work. There is no gloomy struggle here of 
 antagonistic principles ; we have before us a life sound 
 to the core. In "Wahrheit and Dichtung" ("Truth 
 and Fiction"), as well as in the " Italian Journey " and 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 449 
 
 the " Campaign in France," there is nothing fictitious 
 or strained. The clear pellucid stream roUs onward, — 
 now and then receiving a turbid brook mayhap, which 
 it soon clarifies, and reflecting all the varieties of 
 landscape through which it passes. Ever and anon 
 we hear a hollow sound, betokening that it is passing 
 through some rocky defile ; but before long it has 
 issued forth again, and a light eddy or circle of foam 
 dancing gaily onward, is the only evidence of the 
 struggle that has been encountered in the depths 
 below. There is assuredly not a line In this work 
 that is merely imaginative. The term "Dichtung," 
 rather arises from the fact that the author has omitted 
 many minor details, e.g. in reference to the real 
 names and circumstances of his Gretchen, Frlederike, 
 and Lilli, which after all were best omitted.* 
 
 * The interest felt by the public for Goethe -went into ridiculous 
 extremes. It was considered a great gain by some to have discovered 
 that his great-grandfather was a shoe-smith, and his grandfather a tailor, 
 and afterwards landlord of the " Weidenhof," at !Frankfort. The least 
 inkling about his love affairs was an object of ardent pursuit. Gretchen 
 was the daughter of an innkeeper, at the sign of the " Rose," in Offen- 
 bach, according to Bettina, who had it from the " Frau Bath." Frlede- 
 rike was Priederike Brion, of Sesenheim ; died November, 1813, at 
 Meissenheim, in Baden. LUli was Elizabeth Schonemann, afterwards 
 married to Von Turkheim. See the unpleasant gossip in Nake, " Wall- 
 fahrt nach Sesenheim," 1840 ; Pfeiffer, " Goethe's Friederike," 1841 ; 
 A. Stober, "Der Dichter Lenz und Friederike von Sesenheim," 1842. 
 These books indicate about the same amount of good sense as do the 
 people who go staring at Goethe's house, in the Hirschgraben, at Frank- 
 fort, although it is now entirely modernised, instead of visiting those 
 ancient parts of the city which are as they were, and which were mixed 
 up with the childish sports and dreams of the youthful poet. Again, 
 the correspondence of Goethe with Schiller, Zelter, and others, is only 
 interesting in a literary point of view ; whereas the few letters exchanged 
 
450 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 The dramas written by Goethe expressly for the 
 stage, e. g. " Die Laune des Verllebten," " Die Mit- 
 schuldigen," " Clavigo," " Die Aufgeregten/' " Gross- 
 Cophtha," and others, are inferior to his more ideal 
 ones, " Gotz " and " Faust." The two operas, " Erwin 
 und Elmire " and " Claudine von Villabella," the latter 
 of which first appeared in J. G. Jacobi's " Iris," in 1775, 
 were, like " Iphigenie" and " Tasso," rewritten in Italy, 
 and to this they owe their brilliancy and freshness. 
 
 The "Natiirliche Tochter," was based upon the 
 memoirs of the Princess Stephanie of Bourbon Conti. 
 Schiller's dramatic activity stimulated Goethe to write 
 it. Originally it was intended for one of a Trilogy, 
 setting forth the moving ideas of the French Kevolu- 
 tion. This plan, however, was not carried out. The 
 subject was not a favourite one with the poet, and the 
 characters are not drawn with his habitual felicity. 
 
 Passing by his numberless unfinished compositions, 
 e. g, " Nausikaa," " Der Achilleis," &c., we wiU refer 
 for a moment to his oriental studies, the occupation 
 of his extreme old age. At that period the "War of 
 Liberty was being fought, and Goethe has been se- 
 verely censured for taking so little interest in it. It 
 may be alleged in his defence that he felt incapacitated, 
 
 •with Madame Stein and the Countess Auguste Stolberg do open a deeper 
 insight into his character. The correspondence, however, -with !F. H. 
 Jacobi deserves notice ; and that with Charlotte Buff, and her husband, 
 Kestner, published in 1855, shows that the connexion between the three 
 was not only nobler, but more poetical than his account of it in 
 Werther's Leiden. Goethe was bom at Frankfort on the Maine, 28th 
 August, 1749, and died at Weimar, 22d March, 1832. See Lewis' Life 
 of Goethe. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 451 
 
 physically and mentally, from entering the lists to any 
 purpose ; so, as a refuge from the storms around him, he 
 retreated into the domain of oriental poetry. And here 
 we have only a fresh proof of his versatile powers. 
 
 Goethe, in mind as well as body, always gives one 
 the idea of perfect health. His whole being is free 
 from strain, over-excitement, or violence. He never, 
 as he says, ''rushed after some indistinct ideal, but 
 let his feelings gradually develope themselves into ca- 
 pacities." The fruits he bore were not artificially 
 forced ; the stream of his poetry was not the result of 
 hard pumping from the Pierian spring, but the spon- 
 taneous effusion of his genius. At times it rested — 
 presently, however, to gush forth again with fresh and 
 living energy. To his healthy open eye the things and 
 persons of this world showed themselves in their true, 
 simple, and natural shape, — not distorted or magnified 
 by a haze of delusive fancies. He fully comprehended 
 objects in their most hidden essence. It was this 
 faculty of apprehending things, and making them, so 
 to say, his own, that is meant when the Germans talk 
 of Goethe's " objectivity." It is this which lends to 
 his poems such life and freshness, — to his prose style 
 such calm grace, such an equable flow ; which renders 
 his periods so clear and pellucid. 
 
 Another result of this natural soundness of under- 
 standing was, that he never suffered himself to be over- 
 come and mastered by the subject in hand. With 
 instinctive tact he avoided, as subjects of composition 
 or thought, matters which he felt to be beyond his 
 grasp and reach. He used to say that there were 
 
452 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 " certain lines of fortification to a man's existence," — 
 bounds, as it were, which he could not pass, beyond 
 which his powers availed not. No poet could estimate 
 more exactly than he did the extent to which these 
 powers reached in his own case. 
 
 Again, Groethe was no book-worm — no writer of the 
 closet ; but a man of life and of the world. Sitting 
 brooding and dreaming alone was contrary to his 
 nature. It was in the intercourse with his fellow-men, 
 in practical activity, in seeing and enjoying the objects 
 of the world around him, that he obtained his inspira- 
 tions. This it was that sent him to Italy. Again, in 
 respect to his studies of nature, which have so often 
 been ridiculed, how fortunate the man who, when any- 
 thing occurs to cross him, can vnthdraw from the tur- 
 moil of the crowd — fly to the mountain solitudes, there 
 to " hold converse with Nature's charms, and see her 
 stores unrolled." This was one way, in fact, which 
 he took to keep up the freshness and freedom of his 
 thoughts. It is the poet of man and his doings taking 
 his recreation, and relaxing for a while the tension of 
 his mind. 
 
 But there were some things which Goethe could not 
 do. He could not comprehend the philosophy of the 
 time. He had no taste for music. But what is most 
 remarkable Is, that, though he could fathom all the 
 heights and depths of man's nature — could understand 
 all the emotions of the soul, and put them in poetical 
 shape, he never could bring the movements of the 
 nations, the life of the people in the mass, into har- 
 mony with himself. With regard to the French Eevo- 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 453 
 
 lution, for Instance, though he was dissatisfied with it, 
 he never could make up his mind how to regard it ; in 
 short, he could not see his way clearly through it. 
 
 Schiller*, who was ten years Goethe's junior, and 
 wrote his first works at the close of the " Sturm and 
 Drang " period, imbibed many of its peculiar charac- 
 teristics, both in his life and in his poems. Hence comes 
 that tendency of his to the ideal, — that tendency to 
 struggle against the restrictions of society, and of cir- 
 cumstances generally, — that proneness, not so much to 
 throw realities into a poetic form, as to throw his ideas 
 into realities, — that love of lively description and strong 
 oratorical colouring. And it is owing to this that he 
 has become a greater favourite with the Germans even 
 than Goethe, and especially with those of them who sym- 
 pathise with his choice of subjects and way of thinking. 
 
 His first piece, "Die Eauber," or, as he proposed 
 calling it originally, " Der verlorene Sohn," was pro- 
 jected before he reached his twentieth year, but 
 was not printed till 1781, when he was two and 
 twenty. Here we clearly see represented the line he 
 took and always adhered to. In spite of Its many 
 
 * SchUler was bom on the 11th (it was formerly said the 10th) 
 November, 1739, at Marbach, near Stuttgart, and died at Weimar, 9th 
 May, 1805. His biography, by his sister-in-law, Caroline von Wolzogen 
 (2 vols., 1830), is agreeable, but not by any means complete. The most 
 complete, but most one-sided, account of him, is that by K. Hofiineister 
 ("Schiller's Leben, Geistesentwicklung und Werke," 4 vols.). The 
 The most compendious and trustworthy is that by Gustav Schwab. 
 Compare his correspondence with Goethe, with Dalberg, Humboldt, and 
 Korner. The latter is ponderous and minute ; and while it does not 
 enhance Schiller's reputation as a poet, it lowers it as a man. See 
 Carlyle's " Life of SchiUer." 
 
454 GEBMAN LITEEATORE. 
 
 faults, — its rudeness of design, its crudeness and im- 
 probability, its forced language, and its straining after 
 effect, — it indicates a decided dramatic talent on the 
 part of the writer. The action is brisk, and there is a 
 tone of real feeling pervading the piece. It is an 
 attempt to assert poetically the prevailing ideas of the 
 period. That there might be no mistake about it, 
 the vignette of a rampant lion was prefixed, with the 
 motto, " in tyrannos." "We have here vice opposed to 
 vice, sin to sin. The poet attacks the " coward mean- 
 ness " of those in high places — the skulking poisonous 
 malice that works in secret ; and the weapon he uses 
 is the violent destruction of social and political order. 
 This is the punishment he would apply. The former 
 vice is incurable ; not so the second. The piece was 
 received with immense applause, owing partly to its sub- 
 jective truth, more perhaps to its pathological interest. 
 The " Verschworung des Fiesco" represents, even 
 more nakedly and decisively than " The Eobbers," the 
 republican ideas then so rife ; but it exhibits much less 
 truth of feeling and liveliness of action. The language, 
 too, is a great deal less natural ; nay, its bombast re- 
 minds us of Lohenstein. " Fiesco " is a political tra- 
 gedy, a subject for which Schiller's youth, imperfect 
 education, and want of experience in these matters, 
 evidently unfitted him. In such hands the portraits 
 are liable to lapse into caricatures, or shadowy outlines. 
 One advantage " Fiesco " possesses over " The Eob- 
 bers " is, that the characters are historic, and not such 
 shapeless monstrosities as occur in that piece. But 
 these bare republican figures had much less charm for 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 455 
 
 the German public than the wild indefinite shadows of 
 " The Robbers." And " Fiesco," much to the poet's 
 surprise and sorrow, was received very coldly by the 
 public. 
 
 " Luise Millerin," or to use Iffland's name, " Kabale 
 und Liebe," which was adopted by Schiller, goes a step 
 further into actual life than "The Robbers" and 
 " Fiesco." The basis of " The Robbers '' may be said 
 to be everywhere and nowhere. The scene of "Fiesco" 
 is laid in an actual Republican State ; but in " Kabale 
 und Liebe " we have a most graphic presentment of 
 the ideas then entertained, whether favourable or other- 
 wise, about the Frenchified, frivolous, or debased world 
 of the Court. All conceivable abominations are trans- 
 ferred into this exalted region ; and on the other side 
 we have the burgher world oppressed, despised, ill-used. 
 Between these two opposites a struggle ensues, which 
 makes our moral feelings revolt against the former 
 class ; not, however, that the artist had any distinct 
 consciousness of the object he had in view. " Kabale 
 und Liebe" suggests, in fact, impossibilities. Such 
 enormous rascality, such so-called generosity of soul, 
 are more than human. The whole is a caricature, 
 odious alike in a moral and an sesthetical point of view. 
 At one time the German public thought otherwise. 
 For many years this piece was a most decided favourite 
 on the boards. 
 
 The poet now begins to emerge from the region of 
 indefinite aims, uncertain aspirations, and ill-directed 
 powers. His youthful productions, though they faith- 
 fully mirror forth the mental ferment then working in 
 
456 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 educated mindsj and give us an insight into the secret 
 struggles a great poet has to undergo, are not interest- 
 ing as works of art. In his next drama, " Don Carlos," 
 we see him entering into another phase. Brighter and 
 clearer objects are opening to his view. It is true 
 that in the original draught of the first three acts, 
 which were printed in the " Thalia" in 1785, we find 
 him still possessed with that passionate interest for the 
 vulgar ideas of the age. There Don Carlos is evidently 
 the poet's favourite character, engaged as he is in the 
 conflict with the authority of his royal father. But 
 two years had elapsed, and " a change now came over 
 the spirit of his dream," and, as the poet himself in- 
 forms us, Carlos ceased to be his favourite, and Posa 
 took his place. This explains why the fourth and 
 fifth acts were written in an entirely different spirit. 
 The length of the piece, we may observe paren- 
 thetically, unfitted it for the stage, for which the poet 
 intended all his dramas, and the first three acts were 
 consequently much curtailed. It was the poet's original 
 design to give a family picture of a princely house, to 
 describe the domestic troubles that Philip II. brought 
 about by his despotism. This idea, in fact, is kept 
 in view through the first three acts. But now Posa 
 is introduced; and we have liberty arrayed against 
 despotism, cosmopolitan ideas against state-craft, the 
 republic against the monarchy ; this, however, more in 
 speech and thought than in action. It is a mistake to 
 suppose that SchiUer meant to represent Posa as the 
 ideal of friendship, and his death as a martyrdom in 
 that cause. The poet himself took great pains to con- 
 
■THE NEW PERIOD. 457 
 
 tradict this opinion. But after all, was it not a very 
 natural one, considering that the world of that time 
 was full of Klopstock and Gleim's " friendship-phan- 
 tasies " above alluded to. 
 
 With all this changing, the drama suffered not a little 
 in an a^sthetical point of view. The exposition is 
 confused and crowded, the action hurried, and the 
 characters vague and wavering. Still the march of 
 the poet's ideas since he wrote " The Robbers " must 
 not be overlooked. In " The Robbers " it was only 
 crime blindly battling with crime ; in " Fiesco," reck- 
 less, murderous republicanism ; in " Cabal and Love," 
 burgher magnanimity opposed to the worthlessness of 
 those in power, while in " Don Carlos " we see cosmo- 
 politan magnanimity face to face with the iron will of 
 the despot and rigid state-forms. In short, in Schiller's 
 dramas we have the French Revolution in an inverted 
 order. His dramas end with what the French Revo- 
 lution began. The Convention, with its keen scent 
 for anything like kindred sympathies, recognised in 
 the German dramatist one after their own heart, and 
 decreed to "Mr. Gill^s" the honour of French citi 
 zenship. But the decree did not reach the new 
 citdyen till long after the chief act of the bloody tragedy 
 at Paris had been played out. 
 
 What greatly contributed to clear and tranquiUise 
 the poet's once turbid spirit, was the study of history 
 and philosophy, to which Schiller began to devote him- 
 self in 1787, and still more his intimacy with Goethe, 
 which began in 1794. Historian or philosopher, in 
 the strict sense of the word, he was not, neither did he 
 
 X 
 
458 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 pretend to be. His intimacy with Goethe, which -woke 
 the bard of Weimar from the poetic lethargy into 
 which he had been thrown by his dissatisfaction at the 
 French Revolution, had the incalculable advantage for 
 Schiller, that henceforward he learnt how to master 
 and arrange his subjects. To this period belong, not 
 only Schiller's best lyric pieces, but also his great 
 tragedies. The oldest and grandest of these is his 
 Trilogy of " "Wallenstein," completed in 1799. The 
 subject is the happiest he ever chose. Greatness in its 
 decline ; a greatness standing forward in bold relief 
 amidst the fierce ferment of the times ; a greatness his- 
 torically great, and not needing any invention, but only 
 a poetic shape ; a national personage who gained the 
 contemporary sympathy of both the hostile parties ; a 
 sympathy which was still existing in tradition. But it is 
 not alone in the choice of the subject that Schiller shines, 
 but also in the lifelike and artistic method of execution. 
 At the same time the character of Wallenstein is in some 
 measure allied to those of Moor, Fiesco, and Posa ; — 
 to use the poet's own words, "He is a man of violent 
 nature, struggling and wrestling for the great objects 
 of mankind, dominion and liberty." As "The Robbers," 
 " Fiesco," and " Carlos," were the prophetic counterparts 
 of the French Revolution; so, as Gervinus has well 
 remarked, Wallenstein was the prototype of Napoleon. 
 From Schiller's correspondence with Goethe, we see 
 what pains he took in carrying out the work; how he 
 strove to grasp his subject in all the fulness of its 
 historic reality. Here, in fact, he was Goethe's pupil ; 
 so strikingly so, that until Goethe denied that he. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 459 
 
 had any hand in it (witli the exception of two lines), 
 people fancied that the first part of " Wallenstein's 
 Lager" was his. In one point ^chiller decidedly- 
 failed. It is universally allowed that the part of 
 the play of "Wallenstein" which he liked best, and 
 which most pleased the public, is a mistake, and inter- 
 feres with the effect of the drama. We mean the 
 episode of Max and Thekla. There is also one other 
 defect; Wallenstein fell by his own fault, and not 
 through the overwhelming weight of circumstances, as 
 Schiller supposes him to fall, which considerably lessens 
 our tragic sympathy for the hero. 
 
 His two next dramas, "Maria Stuart," and "Die 
 Jungfrau von Orleans," earned almost more applause 
 with the public than " Wallenstein ;" though in artistic 
 value they are below it. The former possessed the 
 materials for a genuine historic drama. But there is 
 so much sentimentality, such a preponderance of the 
 touching and rhetorical in it, that the historic almost 
 falls into the background. We have moving scenes, 
 but no powerful deeds; painful sufferings, but no 
 violent struggles. Schiller tells us that he was sick of 
 heroes, and longed to describe human sufferings, for 
 which he could feel a human sympathy. But this was 
 the very rock on which he had split in his four earlier 
 dramas. 
 
 The same may be: said of his "Jungfrau von Orleans," 
 to which he gave the additional title of a "Romantic 
 Tragedy." One of the gravest defects of this piece is 
 that the maiden's religious enthusiasm is little more than 
 
 X 2 
 
4G0 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 mere phrase ; and another — which naturally arose from 
 the first — that Joanna, in her struggle between heavenly 
 enthusiasm and earthly love, succumbs to the latter; 
 whereas it was very easy to have supposed her impri- 
 sonment and death brought about by the seductions of 
 worldly honour to the neglect of her original mission 
 from Heaven. Gervinus says she looks like a somnam- 
 bulist, and the stricture is true. It is to this funda- 
 mental mistake that we owe the numerous others, e, g., 
 the exceedingly feeble scene with Montgomery ; the 
 wonderful explanation between her and Duke Philip of 
 Burgundy ; her sudden affection for Lionel, which is so 
 baldly described ; and the tumultuary close of the piece, 
 which is merely put in for effect. 
 
 The " Braut von Messina " gave the signal for the 
 appearance of a quantity of " Tragedies of Fate," by 
 Werner, Miillner, Grillparzer, and others. 
 
 Without any mythological background to support it, 
 this drama rests on a dark decree of fate, to which 
 innocent and guilty alike, the former first, fall victims. 
 In the Greek legend of the " Labdacidae," fate and 
 crime go hand in hand, and flow into one, and if the 
 innocent do fall, their destruction is not connected 
 with destiny, but with the crimes of the guilty ; whereas 
 here, crime retires into the shade before fate, and in 
 the later Fate-Tragedies it is utterly lost sight of. 
 Schiller justified his introduction of the chorus in this 
 play; but this was owing partly to his utter ignorance of 
 the antique Tragedy. In the " Bride of Messina," the 
 chorus are the retainers of the two brothers, and can. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 461 
 
 therefore, hardly represeut that Impartiality and un- 
 biassed opinion which fell within the province of the 
 ancient chorus. 
 
 On the other hand, in this play of Schiller's, lan- 
 guage unfolds its utmost brilliancy and magnificence. 
 It was impossible to go further consistently with good 
 taste ; so that all the efforts made to surpass him have 
 as surely indicated a commencing decay, as did the 
 similar attempts made in the thirteenth and seventeenth 
 centuries. 
 
 To " Wilhelm Tell" most critics have assigned the 
 preeminence over all Schiller's dramas. It has been 
 Said that, in its economy and exposition, it surpasses 
 " Wallenstein ;" in its dramatic motives, the " Maid of 
 Orleans," " Maria Stuart," and the " Bride of Mes- 
 sina;" and all of them in the way in which the ideas 
 are worked out. 
 
 Nevertheless it has its defects. The murder of 
 Geszler in the hollow way is improbable, and not in 
 harmony with the piece. The scenes of rustic life, too, 
 are artificial. The introduction of the parricide and 
 the Brothers of Mercy is quite out of place. 
 
 Still it must be confessed that the idea, which is 
 obscured by passion in " The Bobbers," " Fiesco," 
 " Cabal and Love," and which becomes purer in "Don 
 Carlos," is here artistically- worked out and purged of 
 all passion and prejudice on the part of the poet ; and 
 in this respect, therefore, " Tell" is, always excepting 
 " Wallenstein," the most perfect of Schiller's dramas. 
 
 We shall now devote a few words to Schiller as a 
 lyric and didactic poet. In his lyric, as. in his, dramatic 
 
 X 3 
 
4.62 GERMAN lilTEEATUEE. 
 
 poems, two, or rather three, periods are clearly trace- 
 able, la all his poems, the earliest as well as the 
 latest, there is the same liveliness of description, the 
 same clangour and brilliancy of language, the same 
 strength and depth of feeling. But in the oldest> 
 written between 1780 and 1782, we perceive a pas- 
 sionate excitability, just like that shown in " The Rob- 
 bers," — aimless overflowings of the feelings and fancy, 
 the most vigorous and frequently the most successful 
 touches of word-painting. We can distinctly hear the 
 wail of the individual sounding even through the noise 
 of " die Schlacht" (the battle). It is the cry of a soul 
 dashing against its prison bars — struggling to get out 
 it knows not whither. Owing to all this, there is no 
 doubt a superabundance of phraseology in these early 
 poems. Still, they will not fail of making an impres- 
 sion, if we can only manage to transport ourselves into 
 the writer's individual position and feelings- It is not 
 without reason that " Hector's Abschied," " Amalie" 
 (in the Robbers), " Minna," and " Die Kindermorr 
 derin," have become so popular with the young. The 
 exceeding passion of these poems has no doubt been 
 , their chief recommendation. Few young men can 
 have read, without being carried as it were aloft on 
 eagle's wings, his poem of " Die der schaffende Geist 
 einst aus dem Chaos schlug; durch die Schwebende 
 Welt flieg ich des Windes Flug." 
 
 His second period commences with his '' Song to 
 Joy," ("Freude.") The poet's soul was now brighter, 
 calmer, and more self-possessed. At the same time, 
 however, this poem, which is dedicated to an abstrac- 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 463 
 
 tion, marks the poet's entrance into a reflective and 
 philosophising phase. The fine language and ringing 
 verse hardly make up for the want of real matter. 
 The same may be affirmed of two other poems, written 
 at this time : " Resignation," and " Die Gotter Griech- 
 enlands." The former begins with the motto of every 
 heart that longed for the simple charms of nature, " Et 
 in Arcadia ego," (I too was born in Arcadia.) But it 
 immediately passes from this tone of soft sadness into 
 one of cold, comfortless philosophy. The " Gods of 
 Greece," beyond question, shows that the poet has done 
 with the Christian world, and consequently merits the 
 attack made upon it by Friedrich >Stolberg. " Die 
 Kiinstler" was at one time more famous than now; 
 more famou«, indeed, than it deserved. It is interesting 
 as throwing light on the history of his poetical culture. 
 To the period when Schiller worked in common with 
 Goethe, we owe his most imperishable lyric poems. 
 We allude to his Ballads and Romances, which were 
 composed at the same time as his finest dramas, to which 
 they are manifestly allied. " Der Ring des Poly crates," 
 " Die Kraniche des Ibicus," " Der Taucher," " Der 
 Gang nach dem Eisenhammer," " Der Handschuh," 
 " Ritter Toggenburg," " Die Biirgschaft," and " Der 
 Kampf mit dem Drachen," are coeval with " Wallen- 
 stein." His " Hero und Leander," " Kassandra," 
 " Sehnsucht," " Der Pilgrim," and " Der Jiingling am 
 Bache," are coeval with " Maria Stuart," the " Maid of 
 Orleans," and the " Bride of Messina ;" while the " Graf 
 -von Habsburg," the " Berglied," and " Alpenjager," 
 
 X 4 
 
464 GERMAN LITEKATUEE. 
 
 are contemporaneous, in point of composition, with 
 "William TeU." 
 
 In spite of imperfections in many of these poems, 
 there is nothing comparable to them in the German 
 language, except Goethe's " Bride of Corinth." The 
 pure epic diction, the modulated tones of expression, 
 the almost faultless composition, the unflagging interest 
 preserved throughout, the dignity of the subjects, and 
 noble bearing of the whole, must strike every reader. 
 Of the same date as •' Wallenstein," are the " Lied von 
 der Glocke," and a number of other poems ; the merit 
 of which is sufficiently attested by Goethe's simple 
 epilogue. But the choicest flowers of Schiller's poetry are 
 unquestionably the four following poems : " Der Spa- 
 ziergang;" " Das. Gliick ;" "Der Genius," .and another, 
 originally called " Das Reich der Schatten," afterwards 
 " Das Eeich der Formen," and finally " Das Ideal und 
 das Leben." In action, strictly so called, these poems 
 may be deficient, but they contain another sort of 
 action, the immediate revelation of the innermost 
 secrets of the poetical genius. 
 
 Goethe used to say, with much self-complacency, 
 " People ought not to dispute whether he or Schiller 
 was the greatest, but rather rejoice that there were 
 two such fellows in existence." The dispute he refers 
 to commenced among the disciples of the Romantic 
 School. Novalls inveighed against the deficiency in 
 moral power discernible in Goethe's poems, and his 
 fondness for describing bad company and bad men. 
 Others, e.g. Milliner, Borne, and Menzel, took up the 
 
' THE NEW PERIOD. 465 
 
 cry, and pronounced Goethe to be a preacher of im- 
 morality, of quietism, and what not; and, in fact, an 
 anti-national poet W. Schlegel, on the contrary, with 
 other chiefs of the Komantic School, took exception to 
 Schiller. His descriptions were devoid of truth, said 
 they, — his figures, of reality ; while others went 
 further, and called him a mere poet of phrases ; till at 
 last Riemer, of Weimar, discovered that all the good 
 in Schiller, he had filched from his friend Goethe. 
 
 Without entering into any lengthy comparison of 
 the two poets*, we may say that the grand distinction 
 between them is this. It was Goethe's wont to rise 
 from particulars to generals ; Schiller's to descend from 
 generals to particulars. Goethe starts from real life 
 and its particularities, and raises it into poetic forms ; 
 Schiller strives to impart to his general ideas, reality, 
 life, and substance. 
 
 In short, in the two individuals we see embodied, so 
 to say, the ancient contrast between the poetry of 
 nature and the poetry of art. And each was great in 
 his own line. 
 
 We may here remark that, wrongly or rightly, the 
 rising youth of Germany have made up their minds 
 that Goethe is the poet of servitude, and Schiller of 
 liberty. 
 
 On the position held by these two poets in reference 
 to Christianity, there has been much diversity of 
 
 * The twin monument lately erected at Weimar is very characteristic 
 of the two poets. Goethe receives with a proud consciousness of his 
 powers the offered laurel crown : Schiller seems to wave it away with 
 his hand; his thoughts, like his eyes, are turned aloft to something 
 nobler still, — Editor. 
 
 jc 5 
 
466 OEEMAN LITEEATT3RE. 
 
 opinion. Some have stigmatised Goethe and Schiller 
 as mere heathens; their love of poetry an anti-christian 
 worship of genius. Others again have ransacked their 
 works for every possible passage or phrase containing 
 the faintest whisper of Christianity, and have mar- 
 shalled these together for the purpose of proving that 
 both poets were Christians, or at all events Schiller. 
 Others again, who are opposed to anything like histo- 
 rical, or at least ecclesiastical Christianity, cite Groethe 
 and Schiller as their authorities in this matter ; though 
 they acknowledge them both to be believers in a 
 universal religion, viz., God, virtue, and immortality. 
 
 It cannot, indeed, be denied that both poets were 
 in discord with Christianity. Goethe took the Pan- 
 theistic point of view, or that which deifies Nature ; 
 Schiller the rationalistic, or that which deifies man. 
 Many passages in the writings of both poets, especially 
 SchiUer, indicate a hostile attitude towards Chris- 
 tianity. The preface to " The Robbers " may seem to 
 betoken a different feeljng, but this was merely a 
 forced concession on the poet's part. He was glozing 
 over his real feelings. And if other passages may be 
 found written in a spirit more friendly to Christianity, 
 they only serve to convince us that the two poets 
 could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion on the matter 
 in their own minds. 
 
 Vilmar endeavours, however, to show, that in spite of 
 those storms that ruffled the surface, there was still 
 underneath, in the depth of these two poets' minds, a 
 serenity and calm. But we shall not follow him fur- 
 ther in his arguments; merely adding, that he considers 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 467 
 
 Schelling and Hegel, Humboldt, Savigny, and Grimm,, 
 to be in reality thinkers in Goethe's spirit. 
 
 A short survey will now be given of the separate 
 groups and schools of poets which concentrated them- 
 selves round Klopstock, Lessing, Wieland, Herder, 
 Goethe, and Schiller. 
 
 In the wake of Klopstock we have a number of 
 biblical poets, old Bodmer at their head, and, in his 
 early youth, Wieland. Most of their productions are 
 feeble imitations of Klopstock's " Messiah," and have 
 fallen into merited oblivion. Lavater, it is true, caught 
 somewhat of Klopstock's lyric mood. But most of his 
 pieces are mere echoes of Klopstock, fervent and feel- 
 ing it is true, but mostly shapeless, and thoroughly 
 rhetorical ; at times exaggerated and untrue. For a 
 composer of Church hymns, Lavater's mind was too 
 uneasy and too little imbued with ecclesiastical tradi- 
 tion. He was better adapted by nature for writing 
 religious poems ; but he marred his efforts by too hasty 
 productions. Many of these contain only one poetic 
 thought wrapped up and choked in such a mass of 
 words, that he had occasionally to append to them ex- 
 planatory notes. His oldest and most important com- 
 - positions are his " Schweizerlieder." 
 
 Intellectually allied with Lavater was Johann Hein- 
 rich Jung.* His romances, " Florentin von Fahlen- 
 
 * This -was the name he assumed in his autobiography. Heinrich 
 Stilling, commonly called Jung- Stilling, was horn at the village of Grund, 
 near Hilchenhach, in the Principality of Nassau-Siegen, 12th September, 
 1740, and died at Heidelberg, 2nd April, 1817. 
 
 X 6 
 
468 GERMAN LITEEATUEE, 
 
 dorn " and " Theodore von der Linden," are long since 
 forgotten ; and the same fate will, perhaps, overtake 
 his " Heimweh " and " Siegesgeschichte." But this 
 will never be the case with Heinrich Stilling's " Ju- 
 gend, Jiinglingsjahre und Wanderschaft." Here there 
 is a simplicity of description, a truth and depth of feel- 
 ing, and what is more, a truth and depth of Christian 
 experience, such as is scarcely to be found in any other 
 work of German literature. The first pa.rt of his autobio- 
 graphy, in which he had the assistance of his friend 
 Goethe, is the most poetically complete. The character 
 of old Eberhard StiUing is drawn in a masterly manner. 
 The two next parts are very valuable as a history of 
 the purification of the inner life. Indeed all these 
 three parts are full of poetic freshness, and go to the 
 hearts of all. In the fourth part, containing a history 
 of Heinrich Stilling's domestic life, the interest begins 
 to flag ; although the account of the death of his wife 
 is very touching and real. The fifth part, describing 
 his life at Marburg, is unimportant. 
 
 The German elements of Klopstock's poetry inspired 
 a mass of so-called bards. The chief of these is Karl 
 Eriedrich Kretschmann, who styled himself " Ehingulf 
 the Bard." He wrote two poems, "Die Herrmanns- 
 schlacht," and " Herrmann's Tod," (called after Klopstock 
 Bardiete,) and abounding with hollow phrases and 
 violent expressions. He also composed a bardic poem 
 on Kleist's grave. Kretschmann was at one time a great 
 favourite, so much so, that people said that " with the 
 exception of Klopstock and Denis, he was the only 
 
THE NEW PERIOD, 469 
 
 person who had caught the real Bardict one ;"* what- 
 ever this may happen to mean. 
 
 Denis, a Jesuit of Vienna, the self-styled " Sined 
 the Bard," first translated " Ossian ;" and then wrote 
 Bardic songs in the style of Ossian and Klopstock 
 combined. . Like Kretschmann's poems, these are long 
 since forgotten. " Prose run mad," is the way they 
 are described by Kastner. His ode on the death of 
 Gellert was longest remembered. Quite a host of 
 " Bards" followed the lead of these notables, and to 
 them we owe the proverbial " Barden-gebriill," (" Bel- 
 lowings of the Bards.") 
 
 One of these was Heinrich Wilhelm von Gersten- 
 berg, who died 1823. His " Song of a Scald," written 
 in 1766, does contain some real Northern mythology. 
 He also wrote dramas in the style and spirit of Klop- 
 " stock. His long-famous tragedy, " Ugolino," (after 
 Dante,) is crammed full of horrors. It is downright 
 Lohenstenian bombast ; only in the language of Klop- 
 stock. His cantata, " Ariadne auf Naxos," written in 
 1767, was acted times beyond number. The line, 
 " Down, down from the rocks," used to set people in a 
 shudder of delight, and dissolve them in floods of 
 sweetly-bitter tears. In his earlier poems, Gerstenberg 
 shows much of the Anacreontic vein of Hagedorn and 
 Gleim, and even of Wieland. 
 
 One of the most popular poets of his day, partly for 
 
 his poems' sake, partly on account of his misfortunes, 
 
 * This criticism is from Jbrdens' " Lexicon deutscher Dichter imd 
 Prosaisfen," 1808, vol. iii. p. 106. The " Bards'' -were forerunners, and, 
 in part, contemporaries of the " Genius period." They did not last long, 
 Tiz. from ahout 1765 to 1775. 
 
470 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 was Christoph Daniel Friedrlch Schubart. He used to 
 wander about Wurtemburg, and made a great sensa- 
 tion wherever he came by giving "readings" of Klop- 
 stock's " Messiah." He also adopted that poet's 
 "patriotic" ideas, and, together with Weckherlin, pro- 
 mulgated them in so indiscreet a manner that he was 
 imprisoned. His best poem is " Auf, auf, ihr Brlider 
 und seid stark," which is unaccountably wanting in the 
 last edition of his works. He also affected Klopstock's 
 pathos of expression, though in a somewhat coarser 
 tone ; and it was this that made him such a favourite 
 with the middle and lower ranks of society. 
 
 At one time every lad in Germany could repeat by 
 heart his " Vatermorder." The lines " Hugh, Hugh, a 
 bone, and yet another bone," and " See'st thou blood 
 vipon the wall," used to make their blood run delight- 
 fully cold. Again, that tissue of phrases, "Die Fiirsten- 
 gruft," was even more famous. Many of these songs 
 were sung by the burghers and peasants of Wurtemburg. 
 Schubart also wrote a number of most lascivious pieces 
 in the tone and style of "Wieland. These he after- 
 wards suppressed, ^.s a youth he was very profligate, 
 but his ten years' confinement at Hohen-Asberg sobered 
 him completely. He wrote henceforth nothing but 
 religious poems, overflowing with feeling and passion, 
 but of no poetic value. Most of his compositions are 
 now forgotten.* 
 
 * Schabart was born 20th March, 1739, at Obersontheim, in Wurtem- 
 burg, aud died, 1794, at Stuttgart. He wrote in the " Genius Period," 
 and he may be looked on as a sort of South-German representative of 
 that kind of poetry. His confinement at Hohen Asberg lasted from 1777 
 to 1787. He published his autobiography, 1791-1792, 
 
THE NEAV PERIOD. 471 
 
 Another class of writers are the poets of Nature, who 
 represented the softer elements of Klopstock's poetry^ 
 his sadness and sensibility. Foremost among these 
 stands Geszner, the Idyllic poet. His descriptions of 
 Nature were long considered to be the ne plus ultra in 
 that line. Indeed there is much that is good and true 
 in them. But the accompanying delineations of human 
 sensibilities are as soft as butter and nauseously sweet. 
 The crown of his poetic prose are " Der erste Schiffer" 
 and "Der Tod Abels; " the latter intolerably luscious, 
 and withal meagre. The " Fischeridyllen" of Xaver 
 Bronner, once a monk, are of better quality.* 
 
 The poems of Friedrich Matthison were at one time in 
 as high favour as the idyls of Geszner, and Schiller even 
 had a high opinion of them. They were first brought into 
 discredit by the Romantic School. He describes natural 
 scenes with striking reality. "Das Mondscheingemalde," 
 and " Der Abend," are models in this line.f 
 
 Johann Gaudenz de Salis-Seewis is, like Matthison, 
 a delineator of Nature ; he is no less real, but possesses 
 greater power, and stands higher, because he connects 
 his descriptions of Nature with human feelings. One 
 of his most celebrated poems is " Das Grab ist tief und 
 stille," but it is not one of his best.$ 
 
 * Salomo Geszner was bom, 1730, at Zurich, and died, 1787, a book- 
 seller, and member of the Council. Franz Xaver Bronner, a writer of 
 kindred mind, was born at Danauwert, in 1758. He was originally a. 
 Capuchin monk, but quitted the order, and died at Aarau, at the age of 
 ninety-two, on the 12th August, 1850. 
 
 f See A. "W. Sohle^el's estimate of his poems, in the treatise, 
 " Matthison, Voss und Schmidt," &c. — Works, xii. 55. 
 
 t Sails was born at Seewis, in the Grisons, 1762 ; died at Malans, 
 28th January, 1834. During the time in which he wrote poetry, he was 
 
472 GEEMAN LITEEATUSE. 
 
 The Gottingen Poetical Confederacy, "Dichterbund," 
 or " Hainbund," as it was called, next claims our atten- 
 tion. Among its members and adherents were Biirger, 
 Holty, the two Counts Stolberg, Johann Heinrich Voss, 
 Miller, Leisewitz, Claudius, and Gockingk. Nearly 
 all of these belonged to the " Genius Period," as it was 
 called. Under the aegis of Klopstock they strove to 
 make the poetry of Shakspeare and the Greeks the 
 model of a new era, rejecting everything that was 
 feeble, "obsolete, untrue, and un-German; Wieland, 
 consequently, they especially eschewed. This con- 
 federacy only lasted from the autumn of 1772 to the 
 autumn of 1774, while these young men were at the 
 University ; but the eflfects it produced were consider- 
 able. It did not regenerate poetry it is true, but it 
 helped to disseminate the good seed first cast by Klop- 
 stock. Their organ was the Gottingen " Musen- 
 almanach," which also contained papers by Klopstock 
 and Goethe.* 
 
 Captain of the Swiss Guard at Versailles. His contemporary, Matthi- 
 Bon, was born, 1761, at Hohendodeleben, near Magdeburg, and died 1831. 
 His poetical period was brief. What he wrote after 1796 is hardly 
 worth mentioning. 
 
 * The "Dichterbimd" of Gottingen flourished in the "Genius Period," 
 and at the time when Goethe first made his appearance. Hardly one of 
 its members wrote into the nineteenth century. Even Voss had ceased 
 to write in 1802, when he made a collection of his poems. See Prutz, 
 "Der Gottinger Dichterbnnd," 1841. The " Musenalmanach " was 
 founded in 1770, by Gotter and Boje. The numbers of the first nine 
 years are an important contribution to the history of poetry. Biirger 
 was born 1st January, 1748, and died 8th June, 1794. . Holty was also 
 born 1748, and died 1st September, 1776. Friedrich Leopold Count 
 Stolberg was bom 17.50, and died 1819. Voss was born 17.51 ; died 
 1826. Miiller was bom 1750; died, at Ulm, 1814. He only wrote. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 473 
 
 Gottfried August Burger did not, strictly speaking, 
 form one of this society, as he left the University 
 earlier ; indeed, in many respects he is quite distinct 
 from them. Many of his poems bear the true impress 
 of his own life, which was most unsettled ; in fact, the 
 number of good poems that he wrote is small. His 
 " Eitter Karl von Eichenhorst," or his " Knapp sattle 
 mir mein Danenross," how unnaturally strained these 
 are ! How inflated his " Lenardo und Blandine ;" 
 how high-flown " Des Pfarrers Tochter von Tauben- 
 hain ;" how trivial " Die Entfiihrung der Europa ;" 
 how common his " Frau Schnips ;" how impure some 
 of the elements of his " Dorfchen," an imitation of the 
 " Hameau " of Bernard. But even in these feeble 
 affairs we behold an ease of description, a flexibility of 
 narration, and, above all, a harmony of language and 
 flow of verse which remind us at times of the lays of 
 the Minnesingers. It was this very facility and feli- 
 cltousness of versification that led him to be so careless 
 about the subject. "When he does light by chance on a 
 good topic, his great powers are seen to their fullest 
 advantage. Nearly all his pieces demonstrate natural 
 aptitude for writing in a popular tone, which he had 
 improved by the study of Percy's " Relics " and the 
 compositions of Herder. There is a ringing music 
 about his " Lenore," which even Schiller never ex- 
 celled, and a popular tone of expression only surpassed 
 
 till 1785. Boje, who was more of a critic and litterateur, was born 
 1744, and died 1806. He gave up the publication of the " Ahuanach" in 
 1776. To those mentioned in the text may be added Christian Adolf 
 Overbeck, the Burgermaster of Lubeok, born 1755; died, 1821. He 
 wrote songs for children and domestic poetry. 
 
474 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 by Goethe* Excellent also are " Das Lied vom 
 braven Mann," " Robert," " Das Lied von Treue," and 
 " Der Kaiser und der Abt." His sonnets are tbe best 
 in the language, although they are among the eldest of 
 the modern era. That " An das Herz," which was 
 written in the days of his deepest misery, is the most 
 noteworthy. No German poet was ever more popular 
 than him. His " Lenore " passed instantaneously 
 through the length and breadth of the land, and is to 
 this day in the mouths of gentle and simple. Five- 
 and-twenty years after his death his third wife, Elise 
 Biirger, strolled about the country declaiming his poems 
 with great pathos, although she had mainly been the 
 cause of his early death. 
 
 Holty, who died so young, the poet of tender feel- 
 ings, sweet dreams, and sad foreboding, obtained a 
 similar kind of popularity with Burger. All his poems 
 give the impression of a pure juvenile genius, prema- 
 turely blooming and withering. The desire, then so 
 universal in Germany, for the simple, undisturbed en- 
 jqyment of nature, for the repose of the country, was 
 never expressed more purely and tenderly than by 
 Holty. Nobody has painted melancholy with more 
 reality. His " Traumbilder," in the manner of Klop- 
 stock, and addressed to his future mistress, were among 
 his best known and best liked productions. " Der alte 
 Landmann an seinen Sohn, Ueb immer Treu und 
 Eedlichkeit," is also well known. His Romances are of 
 no great importance. 
 
 * An excellent account of Lenore, and of all this coterie of poets, is given 
 by Wackemagel, in Haupt and Hoffmann's " Altdeutsche Blatter," i. 174. 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 475 
 
 Biirger, who commenced a translation of Homer, as 
 well as Holty, had shown a disposition to amalgamate 
 German feeling with antique forms. A further ad- 
 vance in this direction was made by the brothers Stol- 
 berg, especially Friedrich Leopold, of that name, and 
 by Johann Heinrich Voss, who were such friends in 
 youth and such bitter foes in old age. Stolberg's Odes 
 and Hymns have more plastic truth than Klopstock's, 
 and his songs more simplicity of feeling, although in 
 some there is a manifest straining after effect and false 
 pathos, e. g. in " Siisse heilige Natur," and " Sohn da 
 hast du meinen Speer." Some of the descriptions of 
 nature are admirable, e. g. " Wenn ich einmal der Stadt 
 entrinn." He was the first to eschew the foolish bardie 
 vagaries of Klopstock and return to real German an- 
 tiquity, so that he must be considered the precursor of 
 the subsequent Romantic School. Few of his poems 
 are now heard of His perversion to popery has been 
 censured as " an apostacy from the spirit of liberty." 
 
 Johann Heinrich Voss was one of the most energetic 
 members of the Hainbund, if not the most talented 
 poet among them. He was fond of describing the 
 country and still life ; he also shared with his con- 
 temporaries the taste for introducing classic studies into 
 German poetry. But the dry common sense of his 
 character forbade him to indulge in the soft senti- 
 mentality then so common. On the contrary, there 
 is a touch of the mechanical, the utilitarian, and the 
 commonplace in his poetry. Nevertheless, he was the 
 first to make Homer accessible to his countrymen ; 
 Day, more, he was, after Eammler, the first to teach the 
 
476 GERMAN LITEEATUfiE. 
 
 art of translating poetry into poetry ; and although his 
 versions of Homer and Virgil are faulty, and his 
 Shakspeare a caricature, yet, as without a Rammler 
 there would have been no Voss, so had there been no 
 Yoss, there would have been no Solger and Droysen. 
 He gave fresh life and power to the poetic language, 
 new versatility and firmness, and more accurate rules. 
 As Eammler taught the proper ode measure, so Voss 
 perfected the doctrine of the hexameter, which Klop- 
 stock had initiated-. In short, his merits are chiefly in 
 respect to language and form. His lyric pieces have an 
 air of dull sobriety and dry reasoning about them, which 
 are anything but lyrical. He was one of the first to 
 Write so-called songs for the people, which in every 
 respect are the antipodes of popular poetry. 
 
 Again, his other poems, with few exceptions (e. g, the 
 song for the new year, " Des Jahres letzte stunde 
 ertcint mit ernstem schlag,") are weak, full of reflections 
 and moralising, and stupid polemics. In Idyls he is 
 much better ; vastly superior, indeed, to Geszner ; but 
 in one only of these, " Der siebenzigste Geburtstag," 
 has he embodied the life of the people in action. But 
 even this does not rise beyond the rank of a Dutch 
 picture, abounding in skilful painting of details, but 
 without any grand prevailing idea. Too much pains, 
 moreover, is expended in the description of Comfort, — 
 a theme not by any means poetical. 
 
 The three Idyls on serfdom are most natural and true 
 in the details ; but there is a perceptible didactic object 
 in them which greatly mars the poetic effect. The 
 female characters in some of his Idyls (e. g., " Die 
 
, THE NEW PERIOD. 477. 
 
 Kirschenpfliickerm,"" DieBleicherin,""Der Heumad,") 
 are very unreal, and written in Ms lyric style ; while 
 his " Eiesenhiigel" is a complete failure. There are 
 some very good features in his two Low German Idyls; 
 but they are too artificial. His " Luise, ein landliches 
 Gedicht," which gave the first impulse to Goethe's 
 epic, " Hermann and Dorothea," threw the reading 
 world into a perfect ecstasy. The first and simpler 
 draught of this poem possessed attractions which were 
 greatly diminished in its subsequent form. Here, too, 
 a great deal too much stress is laid on Comfort. If, as 
 Ernestine Voss asserts, the character of the " Pfarrer 
 von Griinau " is intended as the ideal of a country 
 parson, it is a decided failure. And yet at one time 
 Goethe's poem was considered to be a mere un- 
 fortunate imitation of " Luise/'* Still, as a succession 
 of scenes of rustic life, without cares and without 
 reflection, the poem is praiseworthy. There is truth, 
 in the descriptions of nature and of human feelings, 
 without descending into the commonplace. Luise ia 
 an interesting character, and the love affair is described , 
 Ayith tenderness and truth. 
 
 Apart from Goethe, Voss had several Imitators, 
 Many of them are mere exaggerated copyists, e. g., 
 Neuffer, with his " Tag auf dem Lande," Kosegarten, 
 with his " Jucunde," and Pastor Schmidt, of Wer- 
 neuchen, near Berlin, whom Goethe chastised in his 
 " Musen und Grazien in der Mark." The Idyls of 
 Martin TJsteri, written in the Swiss dialect, contain 
 
 * So Koch, in his " Compendium der deutschen Literatur-geschichte," 
 1798, 2. p. 187. 
 
478 GERMAN LITEEATTJEE. 
 
 pictures of manners and delineations of character full 
 of humour, and written In an earnest and excellent 
 spirit. Johann Peter Hebel, a follower, but not an 
 imitator of Voss, surpasses all others in the Idyl, and is 
 truly popular in tone, an accomplishment which Voss 
 tried to acquire in vain. His " Wiese" and other idyls 
 are too erudite and fuU of ornament, but the descrip- 
 tions of nature are exceedingly good. His idyl " Die 
 Verganglichkelt," with a popular foreground, has, at 
 the same time, a background such as none of the other 
 idyllic poets here mentioned has produced ; and the 
 " Sonntags Friihe" describes rustic life with incom- 
 parable truthfulness and poetic feeling. Among his 
 lyric pieces there are also to be found some of the best 
 features of popular poetry. But it is especially in his 
 prose works that Hebel has caught the genuine Volks- 
 ton (popular tone), in its highest and best sense. The 
 tales of the Ehelnlscher Hausfreund, the best of which 
 are collected in the " Schatz-Kastlein," are full of 
 humour and deep feeling, and the style is very lively 
 and pleasing. These simple stories are the delight of 
 youth and the amusement of age. The subject matter, 
 be it remarked, is generally borrowed from the popular 
 books of facetise and anecdotes of the sixteenth century.* 
 Matthias Claudius was connected with the Gottingen. 
 confederacy as a contributor to the " Musenalmanach." 
 In true-hearted uprightness he is allied to Voss, whom 
 
 * Hetel Tfas bom 11th May, 1760, at Basel, of poor peasant parents, 
 in the Upperland of Baden. He became teacher at the Lyceum of 
 Carlsruhe, and subsequently prelate, and died 22d September, 1828. He 
 •wrote chiefly in the first decade of the present century. 
 
, THE NEW PERIOD. 479 
 
 he also resembled in his love of describing nature. 
 The soft melancholy of Holty, and Stolberg's liking for 
 earnest Christian poetry, are also shared by him. His 
 " Taglich zu singen " (" Ich danke Gott und freue mich/' 
 &c. ) J his " Keise TJrians," " Rheinweinlied " ( " Bekranzt 
 mit Laub den lieben voUen Becher "), which is certainly 
 his composition, whatever may be said to the contrary*, 
 and, above all, his " Abendlied " (" Der Mond ist aufge- 
 gangen"), are known and sung everywhere. In his at- 
 tempts at popular description he sometimes catches the 
 true tone, but not always. Even his older poems, which 
 are chiefly pictures of rustic happiness, exhibit some of 
 the unnatural colouring to be found in Voss's poems 
 on the same subject; while his prose sinks into tasteless 
 mannerism and insufferable pedantry. But he has his 
 good points, notwithstanding. He never became in- 
 fected with the religious indifference so rife in those 
 days ; never for a moment fell into the snare of hig- 
 gling and haggling about the historic truths of Chris- 
 tianity. It is no little credit to him that Schlosser and 
 other modern historians accuse him of being deficient 
 in sound sense. 
 
 The soft tone of the Gottingen School, which, of all 
 those here mentioned, Holty cultivated most, breaks 
 out into pathetic susceptibility in Johann Martin 
 
 * Matthias Claudius, bom 1740, died 1815, -wrote, after 1774, his 
 " Asmus omnia sua secum portans," being a collection of his ■writings 
 in the " Wandsbecker Bote," and -which, for the Saxon North of Germany^ 
 have been -what Hebel's writings -were for the South. According to an, 
 account, originating from Hebel himself, Sander of Carlsruhe was the 
 author of the famous " Rheinweinlied ;" but this is incorrect, as it ap-- 
 peared first in "Voss's " Musenalmanaoh" for 1776, Vith Claudius' name. 
 
480 GEEMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Miller. His " Siegwart " appeared in 1776, two years 
 after Groethe's " Werther." It describes, not an illicit, 
 but a virtuous love, and the hero does not commit 
 suicide, but pines to death on the grave of his Mari- 
 anne. It is difficult to conceive how it ever could have 
 been so popular as it was, for, to a modern reader, it 
 seems unutterably dull and commonplace. But it was 
 this very quality of commonplace that caused it to be 
 preferred to " Werther." For it was on this account 
 more capable of being realised to the commonplace crowd 
 than the more subtle and lofty " Werther." It found 
 a great many imitators. Miller's other romances are 
 more stupid still. The best known is the " Geschichte 
 Karls von Burgheim und Emiliens von Rosenhau." 
 His verses were long popular, especially those in 
 " Siegwart," "AUes schlaft, nur silbern schallet Mari 
 annens Stimme noch," and " Es war einmal ein Gartner 
 der sang ein traurigs Lied." This last describes the love- 
 sick, languishing swain with great truth, and transports 
 us at once into the feelings of those susceptible days. 
 Leopold Friedrich Giinther Gockingk, though not one 
 of the Gottingen Society, was intimate with its mem- 
 bers, especially Burger. In his youthful satires, which 
 are of no mark, he copies Rabener. His epigrams are 
 much better. Many of his poetic epistles are very 
 good, e. g., those, " An Auguste," " An seinen Fritz 
 am Geburtstage," as also those to his servant. In his 
 "Lieder zweier Liebenden" there is a truth and absence 
 of artifice which contrast forcibly with the puling sen- 
 timentality of the Siegwart School,* 
 
 * Gockingk was bom 1748, and died at Berlin, 1828. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 481 
 
 "VVe now come to the dramatists of this period. 
 Leisewitz, in his " Julius von Tarent," follows Lessing. 
 The subject matter of this piece, the history of Duke 
 Cosmus of Florence and his sons, is the same as that of 
 Klinger's " Zwillinge." They were both written in 
 competition for a prize offered by Schroder, in Ham- 
 burg, in 1774, for the best prose tragedy. Klinger's 
 piece obtained the prize. It breathes forth the passion 
 of the " Genius " period ; while Leisewltz's play is 
 more in the strict form of Lessing ; which, however, at 
 times, becomes awkward. On first perusing it, Lessing 
 supposed that Goethe was the author. 
 
 With Leisewitz, therefore, we pass from the ad- 
 herents of Klopstock to those of Lessing. Nicolal,* 
 the bookseller of Berlin, resembled Lessing in his clear 
 and intelligent way of looking upon things. But while 
 this in Lessing rose into piercing artistic criticism, 
 in Nicolai it subsided into flatness and jejuneness. 
 Nothing would go down with Nicolal but what suited 
 the commonest understandings, and might be turned 
 to every-day utility. This was quite in the fashion of 
 Gottsched. Anything like lofty poetry, or even true 
 
 * Friedrich Christoph Nicolai was born at Berlin 1733, and died 
 there 1811. In 1758 he commenced his "Bibliothek der schonen Wis- 
 senschaften." From 1761 to 1765, in conjunction with Lessing, Abbt, 
 and Mendelsohn, he published " Die Briefe " on modern literature, and 
 in 1765 founded "Die allgem. deutsche Bibliothek," and continued it 
 till 1792, in 128 volumes. His insipid romances appeared 1770-1780. 
 His collection of anecdotes about Frederick II., and "Tour through 
 Germany," are as flat as flat can be. In his "Kleyner feyner Alma- 
 nach vOn Volksliedern " (1775 and 1776), he endeavoured to make the 
 " Folks-lay " ridiculous, but, instead, led to the first careful inquiry into 
 the subject. 
 
 Y 
 
482 GERMAN LITEEATUKE. 
 
 poetry at all, was his abomination. And so he made 
 himself ridiculous by entering the lists against Goethe 
 and Herder. In like manner he detested everything 
 in the shape of philosophy, and therefore was an 
 antagonist of the doctrines of Kant. Nay, more, he 
 detested anything like a deep feeling of religion. In 
 short, he hated whatever he could not understand. He 
 was the hero of " the enlightenment and tastelessness " 
 of the last quarter of the eighteenth century, and the 
 leader of all those who from that day to this have had no 
 taste or capacity for science, poetry, or religious belief. 
 His most popular work was the miserable romance, 
 " SebaldusNothanker," in which he satirizes the religion 
 of the Church. Those who thought with him on these 
 matters extolled it as a first-rate specimen of humorous 
 satire. His " Sempronius Gundibert," and " Geschichte 
 eines dicken Mannes," are duller still. In conjunction 
 with Lessing, he set on foot " The Letters on German 
 Literature," the first thoroughly critical paper that 
 ever appeared. Afterwards, for thirty years, he pro- 
 mulgated his doctrines of commonplace in the " Allge- 
 meine deutsche Bibliothek." 
 
 The lively style of Lessing was inherited chiefly by 
 Johann Jacob Engel. In his " Philosoph fiir die "Welt," 
 there are pieces not unworthy of Lessing. His 
 " Lorenz Stark," which first appeared in Goethe and 
 Schiller's " Horen," was long considered to be a pattern 
 in its way, but is as dry and flat as possible. 
 
 Lessing's followers in the dramatic line were not 
 much to boast of either. The national tone of Minna 
 von Barnhelm, the sharp and delicate delineations of 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 483 
 
 character in Emilia Galotti, were not appreciated by 
 them. Instead of this, they lookSd upon every-day 
 middle-class life, in all its naked, dull reality, as the 
 proper subject of the drama ; and this notion influences 
 Germany to the present day. It is true there was 
 now none of the unmeaning phraseology and hollow 
 masquerade of Gryphius, Gottsched, and Co/s plays. 
 On the contrary, truth and reality ruled triumphant. 
 Crowds of foresters and upper foresters, and secretaries 
 (a pet character), councillors of war and justice, house- 
 wifes who go distracted at the mistakes of servants, 
 persecuted maidens, and so forth, fill the stage. Worst 
 of all, the playwrights also attempted the moving 
 " dodge," and the effect of a piece was measured by 
 the quantity of wet kerchiefs. 
 
 Nor had Goethe, we may remark in passing, much 
 better luck with his dramatic imitators. His " Gotz " 
 called into existence not any genuine national dramas, 
 but the most perfect monstrosities that ever afflicted 
 the stage. 'Such were the middle-age pieces, with the 
 bandits, ravishings, dungeons, Vehmgerichts, overflowing 
 brimmers, castle-chaplains, and other charming ingre- 
 dients. Count Torring's " Agnes Bernauerin," and 
 " Kaspar der Thoringer," as well as Babo's " Otto von 
 Wittelsbach," are not yet forgotten. At all events, 
 these are better than Crauer's " Berthold von Zahrin- 
 gen ;" Maier's " Fiirst von Stromberg ;" MoUer's " Graf 
 von Waltron ;" and Hahn's " Robert von Hohenecken." 
 If the dramas in imitation of Lessing were too true, 
 and sank into insipid platitudes, these, on the other, 
 were distorted and untrue. 
 
 T 2 
 
484 GEEMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 The representative of that unfortunate imitation of 
 Lessing, the Burner drama, or drama of every-day 
 life, is August Wilhelm Iffland. In his pieces, which 
 are still played now and then, there is so much resem- 
 blance, that one may almost be mistaken for another. 
 To use the words of Schfller, you can discover from 
 the opening scenes what vices and what virtue will 
 come out. Whether the poor uncle shoots himself 
 through the head, or the wicked Mathes receives a 
 deadly wound from old Fritz; whether the Amt- 
 man absconds, or the secretary Falbring is imprisoned, 
 it is pretty nearly one and the same story ; although 
 the titles may be different. Great magnanimity and 
 great meanness ; innocence bright as the sun and black 
 criminality always stand side by side, like the bishop 
 and knight in chess ; and the plot is so transparent, e.g., 
 in " Die Dienstpflicht," that it really is no plot at all. 
 The play with the most life about it is " Die Jager," 
 which has been played times out of number ; but, after 
 all, it is a matter of astonishment, how ever out of such 
 materials the writer could have spun five acts.* 
 
 All the faults which have been animadverted on, 
 dry descriptions of prosy reality ; then again, whining 
 pathos, or bombast and unreality, every-day common- 
 place, affected, sentimentality, knightly brimmers ; 
 are found united in August von Kotzebue.f Add to 
 
 • Iffland was bom at Hanover 1759, died at Berlin 1814. His dra- 
 matic works fill sixteen volumes. (Leipzig, 1798-1802.) In 1854 ap- 
 peared a selection in 10 vols. 
 
 t Bom at Weimar, 1761 j in Russia from 1781 to 1797 ; afterwards 
 in Vienna ; sent to Siberia in 1800 ; afterwards in Weimar and Berlin; 
 
THE NEW" PERIOD. 485 
 
 tbese, however, Wieland's voluptuousness and Nicolai's 
 frivolltyj and the want of ideas of both, together with 
 a little original indecency of his own ; and all this 
 dressed up with the most charming impudence, with 
 the most dexterous coolness, and you have the staple 
 of Kotzebue's poetry. 
 
 It has often been said that jealousy of Goethe and 
 Schiller, who had settled in his native town of Weimar, 
 induced the talented but vain and shallow Kotzebue to 
 produce something that he imagined would throw both 
 into the shade. For forty long years he plied this 
 trade. It is strange that the Germans, albeit they 
 might not discern the vileness of Kotzebue's pieces in 
 an ffisthetic point of view, were equally short-sighted 
 as to their moral worthlessness. His " Menschen- 
 hass und Eeue," (" The Stranger " of the English 
 boards,) with its mock feelings and crocodile tears, 
 filled all the German theatres from 1789 downwards. 
 His other plays, "Die Hussiten vor Naumburg," 
 "Johanna von Montfaufon," and " Die Kreuz-fahrer," 
 are still acted by strolling players. His farces, — they 
 are not worthy of the name of comedies, e. g., " Der 
 Wirrwarr," "Der Wildfang," "Der Schauspieler 
 wider Willen," — are a thought better. His object here is 
 merely to tickle the risible muscles, and this often done 
 in miserable fashion, as in " Der Pachter Feldkiimmel." 
 Besides two hundred and eleven plays, he perpetrated 
 
 from 1806 to 1813 again in Eussia ; murdered 23rd March, 1819, at 
 Mannheim. He wrote his most celebrated pieces from 1785 to 1795, but 
 continued his literary labours to his death. The edition of 1827 com- 
 prises forty-four vplumesj that of 1840, forty. 
 
 T 3 
 
486 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 some romances, which are fitting counterparts to his 
 dramas, e. g. his worthless " Leontine." 
 
 We now begin to branch off into the Wieland School. 
 Friedrich Wilhelm Gotter represented the prevailing 
 French taste, not with the influence indeed of Wieland, 
 but with a certain tact and firmness. Gotha, where he 
 resided, was the town of all others where this French 
 taste longest prevailed. Gotter was a person of ver- 
 satile talents. Like the school of Gleim, he wrote 
 Frenchified Anacreontics; like Weisze, he composed 
 operettas ; like Gockingk, he imitated Horace's Epis- 
 tles; and, in 1770, he combined with Boie to edit the 
 " Gottingen Musenalmanach." He also wrote versions 
 of French theatre pieces. But even in his lifetime 
 he sank into the back-ground, and after his death, in 
 1797, was quite forgotten. 
 
 A still more direct influence was exercised by Wie- 
 land on the Viennese poet Alxinger, whose " Doolin 
 von Mainz" and " Bliomberis" were immediate imita- 
 tions of Wieland's " Oberon." These, as well as 
 Miiller's " Adalbert der Wilde," found favour with the 
 public. But they exhibit the same arbitrary method of 
 invention and description that proves so tiresome in 
 Wieland. The irony of Wieland, which mars the effect 
 of many good passages in his poems, was inherited by 
 Aloys Blumauer, a Viennese Jesuit, afterwards a book- 
 seller. He employs it without limit in his travesty of 
 a part of the " JEneid." Some of his other poems, 
 which are conspicuous for smoothness of language and 
 easy fluency, are written in this burlesque style; but 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 487 
 
 they have more of the real comic about them than his 
 "JEneid." Like Wieland, Blumauer labours under 
 a paucity of ideas. He was one of those who joined in 
 the opposition to Church and Clergy which marked the 
 days of the Emperor Joseph II. 
 
 The wantonness of Wieland was imitated by Wilhelm 
 Heinse, the author of "Ardinghello." This professes 
 to be an " art romance," but it is merely a retrogression 
 to the lowest sensuality.* It has been edited anew by 
 one of the modern emancipators of the flesh, H. Laube. 
 As was mentioned above, Wieland's imitators in this 
 direction eventually subside into a puddle of filth, so 
 nasty as to alarm their Archetype himself. 
 
 The early works of Moritz August von Thiimmelf 
 are quite in Wieland's vein; but his later ones pass 
 into the humoristic line of the Hamann and Herder 
 SchooL His little work, " Wilhelmine," which was at 
 one time much read, is an abortion alike in form and 
 matter. The form is a disagreeable sort of poetic prose, 
 the matter silly and frivolous facetiae, without a single 
 poetic thought. Nicolai's " Sebaldus Nothanker" claims 
 to be considered as a continuation of " Wilhelmine." 
 The " Inoculation der Liebe" is a poetic tale in 
 the most ordinary Wieland style. Thiimmel's " Tra- 
 
 * Heinse was bom 1749 ; died, 1803. To a certain extent he belongs 
 to the geniuses of the " Storm Period." His worst productions -were 
 those of that time. " Ardinghello," which is a little more tolerable, 
 appeared in 1787. 
 
 t Bom, 1738 ; died, 1817. His "Travels in France" appeared in 
 ten parts, from 1795 to 1805. His "Wilhelmine," and "Inoculation," 
 twenty years earlier. His collective works, comprising his Biography, 
 by Gruner, were published last in 1839. 
 
 T 4 
 
488 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 vels in the South of France" was written more than 
 twenty years later. It is to some extent an imitation 
 of Sterne's "Sentimental Journey;" but the execu- 
 tion is original, and the style smooth and elegant. A 
 hypochondriac solitary student becomes, by means of a 
 long set of amatory adventures, a man of the world and 
 a sensualist. Thus far the romance is in the offensive 
 style of Wieland, and was, as such, severely censured 
 by Schiller. Subsequently there is some didactic 
 moralizing to show the impropriety of this part, instead 
 of arriving at this conclusion by the development of the 
 plot. In fact, the plot negatives the moral. At the 
 same time, the work abounds with clever reflections in 
 the tone of the Hamann and Herder School. 
 
 And this brings us to consider Hamann further. It 
 is not the matter, but the manner of his compositions 
 which raises him into importance. In treating of little 
 matters he manages to say great things. This art of 
 striking sparks out of the most unpromising materials, 
 of making uninteresting things interesting, and awaking 
 an interest also in the person of the author, was pos- 
 sessed likewise by Herder, though in a more universal 
 and nobler form. 
 
 The next successor to Hamann in this group of Ger-^ 
 man humourists is Theodor Gottlieb von Hippel.* He 
 is the author of " Lebenslaufe in aufsteigender Linie " 
 and " Ereuz- und Quer- ziige des Eitters A — Z." In 
 the former work the elegiac tone predominates. There 
 
 * Born, 1741 ; died, 1796. The "Lebenslaufe" appeared 1779 lo 
 1781. The "Kreuz- und Quer- ziige," 1793. His collective works, 
 1827-1838, in 14 vols. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 489 
 
 are some excellent descriptions in it. But there is a 
 good deal of talk about the unimportant concerns and 
 experiences of the writer — a feature perceivable in 
 Hamann and the other humourists. The latter work 
 is more of a satirical nature, though it never rises high 
 enough for genuine satire, and, compared with the 
 " Lebenslaufe," it is dull and wearisome. 
 
 Georg Christoph Lichtenberg,* the well-known com- 
 mentator on the designs of Hogarth, wrote some smaller 
 pieces, much more akin to real satire, e. g., that against 
 Lavater, and that against the juggler Philadelphia; 
 but he never, with all his projects, could succeed in 
 producing a satire on a large scale. The defect with 
 him was that he never could make up his mind how to 
 view the various great questions of the age. As a com- 
 mentator, however, on Hogarth, he was much more in 
 his element, and had more scope for fancy and conjec- 
 ture. In smoothness of diction, liveliness of descrip- 
 tion, and in striking eifects, there are few descriptive 
 works in German that surpass this of Lichtenberg's. 
 
 We now come to Jean Paul Friedrich Eichter.f 
 There was a section of the reading world which was in 
 
 * Bom at Oberramstadt, near Darmstadt, 1742 j died a Professor at 
 Gottingen, 1799. The best of his pieces were -written 1775-1785, chiefly 
 for newspapers. They were collected after his death. His " Explana- 
 tion of Hogarth," which he left incomplete, appeared 1794-1799. 
 
 f Born 21st March, 1763, at Wunsiedel, and died at Baireuth, 24th 
 November, 1825. His first work, " Gronlandische Prozesse," appeared 
 1782. Except the "Komet,"]ie wrote nothing of importance after 1808. 
 His satirical works are, the " Gron. Prozesse," " Die Auswahl aus den 
 Teufels Papieren" (1788), " Des Feldpredigers Schmelzle Eeise nach 
 Flatz " (1805), and " Katzenberger's Badereise " (1808), the last of 
 which is the best. His other chief works are, " Die unsichtbare Loge " 
 
 T 5 
 
490 GERMAN LITEEATUEE, 
 
 a strait as to which they should prefer, the very grand 
 or the very little ; the ideal or the real ; the elegiac 
 tone or that of satire. For them the majestic sweep of 
 Goethe's and Schiller's genius was oppressive and 
 crushing, and they, therefore, elected to Involve them- 
 selves in the soft silver threads of individual feeling. 
 And the declared favourite of these people was Richter. 
 In him there are many more various elements than in 
 the former humourists. The taste for the sentimental, 
 with its sweet gentle tones, stuck to him through life, 
 and they are clearly heard in his last work, " Selina." 
 Like humourists generally, he had no poetic develop- 
 ment. His last works are exactly like his first. He is 
 essentially the poet of youth ; youth with Its happy 
 dreams and extraordinary doubts ; Its idyllic satisfaction 
 and far-seeing plans. Its frivolous sports and great ima- 
 ginings. All those who, like the poet himself, have 
 somewhat of the boy in them their life long, are taken 
 with Jean Paul. Others, again, who, as they advance 
 in years, affect a more manly style of poetry, cease to 
 take an interest in his productions. It has been observed 
 that many of his admirers have afterwards become in- 
 different to him, but not vice versa. Nobody who has 
 read real satire will let him pass as a satirist. He is 
 
 (1793), "Hesperus" (1795), "Quintus Kxlein" (1796), "Titan" 
 (1800-1803), "Flegeljahre" (1803-1805). The popular "Blumen- 
 Frucht- und Dornstiicke "(1796) are an insignificant affair. His works 
 appeared in 1826-1828, in sixty parts, to irhich were added five sup- 
 plementary volumes. In 1 840 there was a fresh edition, in thirty-three 
 volumes. His "Biography " has been overdone, Spazier, Wahrheit aus 
 J. Paul's Lehen, 1826, in eight volumes. Id. "Biographie Eichters,'' 
 1833, in five volumes. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 491 
 
 too circuitous and loitering for that. This tendency to 
 laggard description is visible alike in the " Gronlan- 
 dische Prozessen," in the " Auswahl aus des Teufels 
 Papieren," in " Katzenberger," and in " Feldprediger 
 Schmelzle," and damages whatever of satire they 
 contain. 
 
 But satire is not his forte. His charm consists in 
 that innocent and hearty, that sad and yearning tone of 
 his descriptions, — those playful flashes which he flings 
 around. The beauty of isolated passages makes the 
 reader blind to the defects of the whole. We forget, 
 in the many shining traits of his individual characters, 
 that scarcely one of these characters is consistently 
 worked out, let alone poetically complete. He is 
 always full of sentiment, and feeling, and contem- 
 plation ; and hardly ever proceeds to action. The 
 brilliancy of one passage dazzles our eyes, so that we 
 do not perceive that it has around it two or three ob- 
 scure ones. "We forget that he heaps up material 
 without end, but does not digest it Nay, it is pos- 
 sible that this very obscurity, — these dark, incom- 
 prehensible hints, — these half-formed conclusions, — 
 were the very spell that served to captivate his coun- 
 trymen. Like so many children, he made them laugh 
 and cry in a breath. In fact, with many, his enigma- 
 tical way of writing, provoking as it did the reader's 
 curiosity, was the main charm. But all this does not 
 raise him to the dignity of an artistic writer. 
 
 He never could master his material, so as to put it 
 into artistic shape ; and yet there is hardly a page 
 where we do not discover evidence of elaboration and 
 
 T 6 
 
49^ GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 nicety in the working up of his heterogeneous matter. 
 How intolerable is his style after reading the prose 
 of Luther, or of Schiller, Lessing, and Goethe I How 
 ungraceful that mannerism, that continual pausing, 
 digressing, rushing hither and thither I Such an afflu- 
 ence of unwrought material, — a style so intricate and 
 involved, so full of shreds and patches, are quite at 
 variance with the rules of descriptive writing. 
 
 Still we must by no means lose sight of the bene- 
 ficial influence exercised by Jean Paul on the middle 
 ranks of society in those days of triviality, rudeness, 
 and immorality. Many were glad to escape from the 
 fever heats and colds of revolutionary agitation to the 
 mild warmth of his writings. He saved them, as many 
 of them feelingly testify. For half a generation, Jean 
 Paul was the sole refuge of German heartiness and 
 fervour, of innocence and affection. And were such 
 rude, and cold, and desert times to recur, he might 
 again prove the haven of repose for the tenderer spirits 
 unfitted to cope with the tempest of the world. 
 
 Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann, commonly called 
 Amadeus Hoffmann, originally resembled Jean Paul, 
 Subsequently, he struck into another line — the wild, 
 horrible, and monstrous. Whilst Jean Paul adhered 
 to the idyllic, and sought to interweave with every-day 
 matters the bright ideals of gentle feeling, the ideals of 
 sadness and tenderness, Hoffmann drew out from the 
 dark depths of his imagination a flood of horrors, to 
 confuse and overwhelm the mind. His " Phantasie- 
 stxicken " and " Serapionsbriider," are not bad iu 
 point of description ; but his works generally have less 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 493 
 
 artistic finish about them than even those of Jean Paul. 
 This will apply to " Kater Murr," « Teufelselixir," 
 " Nussknacker," and " Mausekonig." * 
 
 The rest of the numerous humourists have this fea- 
 ture in connnon, that they all wander far away from 
 Goethe, and most of them from Schiller. 
 
 Such are Schummel, Meiszner, Knigge, Gottwerth 
 Muller, Benzel-SternaUj Langbein, and others, Ernst 
 Wagner's " Wilibald's Ansichten des Lebens " and 
 " Keisen aus der Fremde in die Heimat," were once 
 favourites in Germany, especially the first. He has 
 not the wealth of Jean Paul, but he far surpasses him 
 in the capacity for throwing his matter into poetic 
 shape. His works sufier most from the practical re- 
 marks and plans which he is fond of intruding upon 
 the reader. 
 
 As for Gottfried Seume, the burden of all his writings 
 is himself, a personage, by the way, anything but rich 
 in invention, and by no means agreeable or poetical ; 
 on the contrary, very jejune and dry, while his humour 
 is very like suppressed rage. 
 
 "We now come to those writers who followed in the 
 wake of Goethe and Schiller. And first may be men- 
 tioned the fellow-workers of. Goethe in the " Storm 
 and Impulse " Period. 
 
 » Hoffmann -was bom at Konigsberg, 1776. He was a Prussian 
 functionary in Poland from 1800 to 1806 ; afterwards, till 1814, Direc- 
 tor of Music at Bamberg and Dresden ; from 1316 to his death, in 1822, 
 Kamraergerichtsrat at Berlin. Hitzig has published (1823, in two 
 volumes) an account of his literary labours, which fill up the last quarter 
 of his life. 
 
494 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 Of these, Friedrich Maximilian Klinger is the most 
 considerable. His wild dramas are in tone so like 
 Schiller's, who came out later, that " The Kobbers " 
 sounds as if it were the production of a second Klinger, 
 and Schiller has been accused, in consequence, of not 
 only imitating Klinger generally, but also of borrowing 
 certain of his characters. Like Schiller, he endeavoured 
 to pourtray " virtuous monsters " or "noble rascals." 
 His characters are invariably caricatures, full of a sort 
 of unconscious Titanic power, which is displayed in 
 frightful phrases and terrible actions. His most fa- 
 mous play is the " Zwillinge," mentioned above, 
 written in 1774. It won the prize ; but now-a-days, 
 nobody would care to read it through. His best 
 known drama is " Sturm und. Drang," connected with 
 the history of the Scottish kings. It was from this 
 piece that the " Genius " Period came to be called by 
 the well-known name " Sturm und Drang " Period. 
 In 1778, Klinger left the theatre and entered into the 
 service of Russia. From this time forward he began to 
 be insipid. He still continued to depict the frightful 
 and the destructive, reprobate wickedness, and hopeless 
 misfortune, not, however, in dramas, but in romances. 
 He still described the Titanic power of man in de- 
 stroying, in working evil, in supporting calamity ; but 
 it was with the coldness of a cynic, the calm of a stoic, 
 which regards transactions the most horrible as mere 
 every-day occurrences. Of these philosophical ro- 
 mances, as we may almost call them, " Fausts Leben, 
 Thaten und Hbllenfahrt " ranks first. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 495 
 
 This makes the third member of the "Genius^Period, 
 besides Lessing, who had selected this favourite old 
 subject. But Klinger's Faust is far inferior to the 
 Faust of Goethe, who fought out the mighty struggle 
 within. This is a mere contemporary picture, where 
 the demoniacal lies in the world without. His romance 
 of terror, " Geschichte E.afaels de Aquillas," appeared 
 in 1793, and was still read with interest twenty-five 
 years later. Both this and "Geschichte Giafars des 
 Barmaciden," a similar production, were better liked 
 than his Faust. In the " Genius " Period, Klinger used 
 to go about Weimar in rags, and Wieland said of him 
 that he looked as if he drank lion's blood and ate raw 
 flesh. He died February 25, 1831, one year before 
 Goethe, having become a Russian Lieutenant-General 
 and Curator of the University of Dorpat. 
 
 The painter Mxiller also took up the subject of 
 Faust, and treated it quite in the ordinary fashion of 
 the period. Faust is meant to represent "a royal 
 soul," but aU that he has in common with Goethe's 
 Faust is an insatiate taste for enjoyment. In all the 
 features of poetic life he widely differs from him. In 
 spite of a few happy hits, the piece looks like a mis- 
 carried satire. One of his best works is " Genoveva," 
 which drew the attention of the Romantic School to 
 him when he had been long forgotten. But his best 
 works are his Idyls, "Das Nuszkernen," and "Die 
 Schafschur," wherein he describes real rustic life, very 
 differently from what Geszner did, and in a much more 
 sinewy style than Voss, who wrote a little later. 
 
496 GERMAN LITEEATDEE. 
 
 Indeed, he exhibits not unfrequently sterling popular 
 features.* 
 
 The folly of the " Genius" period is best characterised 
 by Philip Hahn's monstrous piece, " Der Aufruhr in 
 Pisa." Eeinhold Lenz was one of Goethe's friends in 
 Strasburg, but a bad-dispositioned person. Like 
 Grabbe, he died in misery and madness, and like him 
 he threw together a quantity of heterogeneous matter 
 in a rakehelly genial fashion. 
 
 Leopold Wagner of Strasburg, who was also one of 
 Goethe's false frieAds in the Strasburg period, is sure 
 of immortality. He wrote a satire against Nioolai in 
 his dispute with Goethe about " Werther," and also a 
 drama, " Die Kindesmorderin," the material of which 
 he had purloined from Goethe, who avenged himself 
 by making Wagner Faust's famulus in the play. 
 
 At the period when Goethe and Schiller were in 
 their glory, a galaxy of •variously gifted and genial 
 spirits centered round them at Weimar and Jena. 
 Poetry made its influence felt in science, in the plastic 
 arts, and in life. From this conjunction of poetry 
 with life in those two cities, but more particularly in 
 Jena, we do not, it is true, hear of any magnificent 
 results. Still the idea had been broached that poetry 
 must away from books and the closet, and penetrate 
 into society, in order to purge it of all that was low and 
 
 * Friedrich Miiller was bom at Kreuznach, 1750; lived long in 
 Rome, and died there 23rd April, 1825. His works appeared separately 
 from 1773 to 1781, and were little regarded. ^They were collected iu' 
 1811. 
 
THE KEW PEEIOD. 497 
 
 mean and Philistine-like.* And such an idea must 
 needs become prevalent where so many youthful geniuses 
 were congregated together. At Jena there were at 
 one and the same time Reinhold and Fichte, Schelling 
 and Hegel, Woltmann, Thibaut, and Hufeland, Voss, 
 the two Humboldts, and the two Schlegels, Steffens and 
 Brentano, — all of them teaching and being taught, 
 stimulating and striving. 
 
 This idea, in fact, of preaching and restoring the 
 unity of poetry with life is the fundamental idea of 
 the new school which now arose, and which was called, 
 chiefly by its opponents, the Romantic School. Ac- 
 cording to this school, a poet was the ideal of the age — 
 its supremest power. He it was who ought to make 
 all the phenomena of the day, in life, in art, in science, 
 his own, assimilate them, and then reproduce them in 
 their purest form, — a dogma to be learnt only in the 
 examples of Herder, Goethe, and Schiller. 
 
 It was this idea of the unity of poetry and life that 
 attached its apostles so warmly to the middle ages. 
 They were right in holding up to admiration the days 
 of the people's epic, and the Minnesingers of the 
 thirteenth century, as a time when their ideal was at 
 all events realised in a much higher degree than in the 
 period when they were living. Here poetry was an 
 afiair of dead papers and dumb reading ; there it was 
 life-like, merry song, which accompanied life with its 
 clear- sounding music, enlivening all its checkered and 
 many-coloured career. This persuasion it was that 
 
 * A term of contempt used by German students for low, common- 
 place people. 
 
498 GERMAN LITEEATORE. 
 
 stamped itself so vividly on the works of Armin and 
 Brentano, and on the brothers Grimm, and led them 
 to take such delight in the popular song and legend. 
 Further, this school felt a sympathy for poetry of all 
 kinds, and therefore made it their particular business 
 to reveal all the hidden treasures of Romance poetry, 
 and to wed its forms to the German ideas, in the same 
 way as the antique form had hitherto been wedded to 
 the spirit of German poetry. This idea, however, of 
 the unity of poetry with actual life involved the con- 
 dition that there should be a unity between the two in 
 everything ; in manners, in language, in ends and aims, 
 and, above all, a unity in popular religious belief. This 
 is what the heads of the school mean by their " sym- 
 bolic views of the world ;" they look upon life, that is, 
 as the symbol of some great mystery. This it was 
 that threw Novalis back so decidedly on religion ; this 
 it was that made Friedrich Schlegel a papist ; fancying 
 as he did, that this inward unity was an impossibility 
 for one holding the Reformed Faith. Finally, it was 
 this idea that made the romantic school stand up for 
 the old state forms, the time-honoured kingly rule, and 
 the fidelity of the vassals, as the immovable symbol of 
 all worldly dignity, honour, and grandeur : — notions 
 which were, of course, quite incompatible with modern 
 ideas, and as such have been stigmatized as hypocrisy, 
 Jesuitism, priestcraft, tyranny of mind and conscience, 
 and what not. 
 
 There can be no doubt, however, that Germany owes 
 much to this school. All the modern lyrics belong to 
 it both in form and subject, with the sole exception of 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 499 
 
 what is called Tendenz Lyrik, i. e. lyrics with a moral 
 tendency. That new science, the History of Literature, 
 was first started by it. Sculpture, painting, and phi- 
 lology, as pursued by the brothers Grimm, owe a great 
 debt to it ; so that, after all, this school has, in accord- 
 ance with its principles, to some extent caused poetry 
 to penetrate into actual life. It has also done no little 
 for sound criticism and the correction of bad taste ; 
 and has contributed much towards the just appre- 
 ciation of Goethe's poetry. Domestic and family 
 romances began at this period to be popular, along 
 with the works of Lafontaine, and the theatre was in- 
 vaded by the silly sentimentalities of the Burgher 
 drama. Of all such affected, unmeaning, untrue emo- 
 tion, which they considered the very opposite of true 
 poetry, the Komantic School was the sworn foe. They 
 ridiculed the soft pictures of nature by a Matthison, 
 and laid bare with merciless hand the dramatic trash of 
 a Kotzebue. 
 
 Kotzebue and his adherents (Garlieb Merkel, who 
 died in 1850, was one of the chiefest) did not shirk 
 the contest. While the Romantic School arrayed their 
 powers in the " Zeitung f Ur die elegante Welt," the 
 stronghold of the Kotzebue party was the " Freimii- 
 tigen," a journal which, albeit it was as stale, flat, and 
 unprofitable as it well could be, pretended to advocate 
 the highest interests of free thought, and even of Pro- 
 testantism, as against "the Romanizing tendencies" of 
 the Romantics, and took Ulrich von Hutten's portrait 
 as its emblem. But besides Kotzebue's lucubrations, 
 there was a swarm of other vapidities which were at 
 
500 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 that time in the full swing of popularity. Imitations of 
 " Gotz" and "the Robbers" were rife, e.^., Zschokke's 
 " Aballino." To which may be added, " Die Lowen- 
 ritter," " Rinaldo Einaldini," and the countless other 
 products of a Cramer, a Spiess, and a Schlenkert, most 
 of which are based upon Wieland. Against this scum, 
 which at the end of the last century almost destroyed 
 all taste for the poetry of Schiller and Goethe among 
 the middle classes, the school of Schlegel and Tieck 
 set itself in opposition. Tieck especially was con- 
 tinually doing battle against these romances of robbers 
 and chivalry. But the Romantic School did not rest 
 here. 
 
 A. W. Schlegel flew at higher game. He attacked 
 Schiller, and pronounced his dramatic figures deficient 
 in lively reality, in warmth, and fulness. In them the 
 unity of poetry and life seemed to him not io be ac- 
 complished. This criticism of his was subsequently 
 exaggerated by others of the school, who proceeded to 
 inform the public that Schiller was no poet at all. This 
 school even went so far as to set itself over Goethe, 
 while in Novalis and Tieck it beheld the very revela- 
 tion of poetry. 
 
 It has been objected, moreover, to this school, and 
 with some reason, that it is not enough natural and real, 
 — that its criticism is mere clever playfulness, and too 
 full of irony. It cannot be denied that in Tieck's 
 " Phantasus" the natural power of fairy-poetry is much 
 impaired by the accompanying artistic reflections, and 
 by the clever conversations of a set of polite moderns 
 that are interspersed. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 501 
 
 The great merit of A. "W. Schlegel lies in his rare 
 faculty of adopting and assimilating foreign matter, the 
 most considerable proof of which he exhibits in his 
 translation of Shakspeare. His original poems are less 
 remarkable for matter than for the pure transparency 
 and excellence of the forms. Friedrlch Schlegel's 
 lyrics are not numerous, but they excel his brother's 
 in their fresh power and originality. But where he 
 
 shines most is in the history of literature. He was the 
 first to introduce profounder views into this species of 
 
 composition ; indeed, he was the creator of it. His 
 juvenile romance, " Lucinde," was defended even by 
 
 Schleiermacher, but of genuine poetry it possesses very 
 
 little. 
 
 As for their dramatic attempts, neither the " Ion " 
 
 of the elder, nor the " Alarcos " of the younger brother 
 
 fall within the proper province of the German drama ; 
 
 like the " Iphigenia " of Goethe, they are only dramas 
 
 in form.* 
 
 Novalis (Friedrich von Hardenberg), the friend of 
 
 the Schlegels, though he wrote less, yet exercised an 
 
 • August Wil'helm von Sehlegel was bora at Hanover, Sth Septem- 
 ber, 1767 i lived during the period of the rise of the Komantic School 
 at Jena ; afterwards in Berlin ; subsequently a good deal in the sooietj- 
 of Madame de Staiil ; then at Paris, where he devoted himself to Indian 
 literature. From 1818 he was Professor at Bonn, where he died 12th 
 May, 1845. His works were collected in 1846. 
 
 His brother, Friedrich, was born 10th March, 1772. When the Eo- 
 mantic School began, he was teacher in Jena. After embracing the 
 Roman faith, he lived chiefly at Vienna, and died at Dresden, Uth 
 January, 1829. His works were collected, 1822, in ten volumes, and 
 have frequently been republished. Both brothers wrote their poetical 
 works in the latter part of the eighteenth and beginning (Sf the nine- 
 teenth centuries. 
 
502 GERSIAN LITERATURE. 
 
 influence greater than theirs. He died young. It is only 
 to his religious poems, however, that we can ascribe 
 any high poetic value. His unfinished romance, 
 ''Helnrich von Ofterdingen," is an artistic failure. 
 It does not so much consist in a life-like portrayal of 
 characters, or a series of actions skilfully connected, as 
 in a string of arguments. The rest of his writings are 
 nothing but a collection of aphorisms and sentences, 
 which are often keen and profound, but sometimes 
 paradoxical, and not seldom obscure. Nevertheless, 
 they have taught the youth of Germany deeper 
 and more earnest views of life than they couM find 
 among their greatest authors. They serve, to some 
 extent, as a sort of commentary on the better- and best 
 parts of literature generally. 
 
 Ludwig Tieck was much more of a creative genius 
 than his three friends just mentioned. His literary 
 career lasted more than fifty years. Commencing 
 with novels, he betook himself afterwards to drama- 
 writing ; but returned eventually to the novel. His 
 earliest works, " Abdallah," and " William Lbvell," 
 were the produce of a period when his views were 
 undeveloped. Like his last work, " Victoria Ac- 
 corombona," there is a gloomy character about them, 
 and they move in the oppressive atmosphere of un- 
 softened passion. His " Franz Sternbald," which was 
 supposed to be the joint work of Tieck and his friend 
 Wackenroder, is, according to Tieck's own assurance, 
 his own sole composition. Though unfinished, it is 
 considered one of the best German " Art Romances," 
 and has done much towards awakening a correct taste 
 
THE NEW PEKIOD. 503 
 
 in art. His " Peter Lebrecht," " Gestiefelter Kater," 
 " Prinz Zerbino," " Verkehrte Welt/' and especially 
 his excellent dramas, " Leben und Tod Der Heiligen 
 Genoveva/' " Fortunatus," and " Kaiser Octavianus," 
 are ajl directed against the preposterous tendencies of 
 the period. Here he attacks those shameful parodies 
 of the Middle Ages, the stupid dramas and romances 
 about knights and robbers, as well as the soft senti- 
 mentality and trumpery common-place of the house 
 and family romances. The three last-mentioned works 
 are allowed to be the chef-dCceuvres of E-omantic 
 literature. 
 
 In the " Phantasus," which is perhaps his most 
 popular work, he dresses up with great skill and deli- 
 cacy those capital old popular sagas of " Magelone " 
 " Getreuer Eckart " and " Eothkappchen," ("Ked Eiding- 
 hood.") The novels which he wrote in the last twenty 
 years of his life, e. g., " Der Aufruhr in den Cevennen," 
 " Das Dichterleben," are by many considered superior 
 to his earlier poetic compositions — a judgment in which 
 posterity will hardly coincide. 
 
 His latest novels, " Der junge Tischlermeister," and 
 " Victoria Accorombona," have not added to his fame. 
 He rendered good service to the German drama by his 
 " Dramaturgische Blatter," and " Deutsches Theater,'' 
 and also by his participation in A. W. Schlegel's trans- 
 lation of Shakspeare. He was also the first to make 
 his countrymen acquainted with the spirit of the Min- 
 nesingers by his translations and versions.* 
 
 » Tieck was born 3Ist May, 1773, at Berlin, and died there 28th 
 April, 1853. His earliest works, " Abdallah " (1795), and "William 
 
504 GERMAN LITERATURE. 
 
 Ludwig Joachim (or Achim) von Arnlnij and Cle- 
 mens Brentano, also laboured in the same cause, but in 
 a different manner, viz., by editing afresh, rendering, 
 and imitating the popular lyrics of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury. Their " Wunderhorn " stands pre-eminent *in its 
 way. In their other works, which are chiefly prose, 
 there is a certain want of form, which detracts from the 
 interest. It is seldom that Arnim, still seldomer that 
 Brentano, finishes his story in the spirit in which it 
 began. Brentano's best work is his latest, " Gockel 
 Hinkel and Gackeleia;" which, in a delicate appre- 
 hension of nature-life, is one of the best things in 
 the language. The simplicity and fervour of this 
 " Marchen " is with difficulty appreciated in these 
 unquiet days.* 
 
 In her romance, " Goethe's Briefwechsel mit einem 
 Kinde," Bettina, the sister of Brentano, and wife of 
 Arnim, has realised, with no little originality and skill, 
 the old doctrine of the school, " the restoration of the 
 unity between poetry and life." The life here described 
 is so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of poetry, that 
 
 Lovell" (1795), remind us, partly of the " Genius Period" of twenty- 
 years before, partly of Heinse. His polemical works against the preva- 
 lent unpoetio tendencies of the times, viz., " Peter Leberecht," " Gestie- 
 felter Kater," and "Zerbino," date from 1797 to 1799. Then follow 
 his romances, 1799. Then"Der Kaiser Octavianus," and in 1812 
 " Phantasus." His collection of German Minnelieder appeared in 1803, 
 and in 1812 his version of XJIrich Ton Liechtenstein's " Prauendienst" 
 His lyrics were written during the same period as his romances. 
 
 * Arnim was born 26th January, 1781, at Berlin, and died at Wie- 
 persdorf, 21st January, 1831. Brentano was born at Prankfort-on-the- 
 Maine, 1777 ; died at Aschaffenburg, 28th July, 1842. His posthumous 
 works, published by Gorres, are not more important than those which he 
 himself published. 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 505 
 
 the reader fancies himself transported to the days of 
 the Minnesingers, when life was poetry and poetry was 
 life. The notion that this book was a recital of his- 
 torical transactions has been detrimental to its fame. 
 
 Friedrich Baron de la Motte Fouqud * endeavoured 
 to represent the spirit of ancient chivalry in nobler 
 forms than did the clumsy writers of the earlier chi- 
 valric romances. In spite of the animadversions passed 
 upon him, it may with truth be affirmed that Fouqud, 
 although at times he is fantastic and vague, has tho- 
 roughly succeeded in resuscitating poetically those 
 merry days of chivalry and song at the end of the 
 twelfth century. This applies especially to his " Zau- 
 berringj" " Theodolf der Islander," and the beautiful 
 tale " Undine." His poetry, though often felicitous, is 
 not equal to his prose ; partly in consequence of his 
 venturing to regions above his capacity, e. g. in " Sigurd 
 der Schlangentodter." 
 
 The remaining members of the Romantic school are 
 now forgotten, e. g. A. F. Bernhardi, the brother- 
 in-law of Tieck, Wilhelm Neumann, Alexander von 
 Blomberg, Friedrich Krug von Nidda. The same is 
 true of Karl Borromaus von Miltiz and Ernst von 
 der Malsburg, the translator of Spanish dramas, al- 
 though at one time these two were very popular. For- 
 gotten, too, is Otto Heinrich Count von Loben, the 
 effeminate and high-flown " Isidorus Orientalis." It is 
 far otherwise with Karl Lappe, and also with Joseph v. 
 Eiohendorf, whose poems and stories, and his " Leben 
 
 * Bom at Brandenburg, 1777 ; died at Berlin, 23rd January, 1844. 
 His " Zauterring " appeared in 1 815. 
 
 Z 
 
50G GERMAN LITEEATOEE. 
 
 eines Taugenichts," in heartfelt truth, surpass all the 
 productions of the older Romantic School.* 
 
 There are two writers who, though they were not 
 regular members of the school, wrote in the spirit of it, 
 especially lyrics. These are Friedrich Holderlin, whose 
 mind was early obscured by the darkness of insanity, 
 and Ernst Schulze, the poet of the " Bezauberte Kose " 
 and " Cacilie." In his early poems Holderlin imitated 
 SchiUer, and in theory espoused the dogmas of the 
 Schlegel School, traces of which may be found in not 
 a few of his poems. His peculiarity is that he does 
 not, like the other romanticists, go back to the old 
 national life of the Germans, but to the ancient Hel- 
 lenism. He seeks to reconcile these two diametrical 
 opposites, the reality of Greek life and the reality of 
 modern life, and herein he betrays symptoms of that 
 inward disunion which, in his thirty-second year, grew 
 into insanity. In many of his poems he has attained 
 to the pure antique form. The subject-matter, too, is 
 often attractiye, the description clear and graceful, and 
 the deep tone of sadness which pervades the whole is 
 not without its charm. 
 
 Like Holderlin, Ernst Schulze was the victim of an 
 unhappy passion. A low, soft plaint pervades all his 
 poetry, prophetic almost of his early death. So musical 
 are his verses that he has been compared to the Minne- 
 singers. In point of matter, his lyrics are much to be 
 preferred to his romantic stories, "Die bezauberte 
 Eose," and " Cacilie," which are artificial in sentiment, 
 
 * For an account of the more important personages of the Romantic 
 School, see " Briefe an Pouque," edited by Albertine t. Fouque, -with 
 preface, &c., by Kletke, 1847. 
 
THE NEW PEEIOD. 507 
 
 and want life and action ; while their sweetness is 
 cloying, and monotony fatiguing. 
 
 Chamisso, although a Frenchman by birth, was an 
 admirable German poet. In point of form, his lyrics 
 are quite in the style of the Romantic School. "With 
 his " Schloss Boncourt '' few modern German lyrics can 
 compare. Like Schlegel's School, he made it his task to 
 appropriate and imitate foreign models ; and he did so 
 with success. He even wrote verses in the Malay 
 form, while, in his " Salas y Gomez," he strikes into 
 the long-neglected walk of poetic narrative — a direc- 
 tion in which none but Annette Droste has ventured 
 to follow him. In his well-known " Peter Schlemhil " 
 he has clothed in poetic forms the grief that he himself 
 had experienced as an exile from his fatherland.* 
 
 The time is not yet come to enter into a detailed 
 account of the succeeding writers. A few outlines 
 must suffice. 
 
 Justinus Kerner caught, more than any of his 
 contemporaries, the plaintive, passionate tone of the 
 popular lay (Volbslied). His song, " Wolauf noch 
 getrunken den funkelnden Wein," well portrays the 
 German's desire to roam, and his love of home. Few 
 
 * Louis Charles Adelaide de Chamisso de Boncourt, or, as he called 
 himself, Adalbert von Chamisso, was born at the Castle of Boncourt, in 
 Champagne, 27th January, 1781. Driven away by the Revolution, he 
 went to Berlin, and was for ten years in the military service of Prussia. 
 After studying in Berlin, he went, as naturalist, on the Eomauzow 
 voyage of discovery, on board the Rurik. Subsequently, he was curator 
 of the Botanical Garden at Berlin, and died 21st August, 1838. Before 
 his travels, he was a thorough disciple of the romantic school, which 
 then existed iu Berlin. " Peter Schlemhil " appeared in 1814. Most of 
 his lyrics were written in the last ten years of his life. His works 
 were published by Hitzig, in six volumes, in 1838. 
 
 z 2 
 
508 GERMAN LITEEATUBE. 
 
 writers have written songs so melodious — so made for 
 singing — as he ; few are so seducing and touching. 
 
 Uhland has pierced deep into the hearts of the youth 
 of Germany with his poems on the history and legen- 
 dary lore of his country. Keeping clear of the dreamy 
 exaggeration which clung to the nationalism of the 
 older romanticists, his songs are, like his sentiments, 
 true, and his poetic figures real. 
 
 Gustav Schwab is also a writer in the national vein, 
 but with less marked character than Uhland. Like 
 Kerner, he has made his countrymen familiar with the 
 poetic sounds of the legend, and both of them surpass 
 the older [Romantic School in truth of feeling and sim- 
 plicity of portraiture. Schwab has also written poems 
 of an earnest and religious cast, which have been 
 imitated by Griineisen, Knapp, Stier, Spitta, and 
 Victor Strauss. These serious poems are, however, 
 more calculated for private than public use. 
 
 Karl Simrock, who has been mentioned in the 
 earlier part of this work, has devoted his talents to the 
 old popular heroic poems. Sohie of these he has retold ■; 
 while, in other cases, he has managed, out of long- 
 forgotten sagas, to create new poems upon the ancient 
 pattern, e. g. " Wieland der Schmid." 
 
 Wilhelm Hauff, who died young, also wrote in the 
 same line, but with too much youthful sentimentality. 
 Far superior to him is August Heinrich Hofmann (von 
 Fallersleben), who, in his songs of the German Lands- 
 knechts, reproduced with marvellous felicity the best 
 elements of the old popular lay of Germany. It is to 
 be regretted that he has not gone on in this line, for 
 which he has so remarkable a talent. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 509 
 
 Other, but less distinguished, writers in the national 
 tone are the Swabians, Mayer, Gustav Pfizer, and 
 Morite, the brothers August and Adolf Stober of 
 Alsace, and the Austrians, Vogl, Seidl, and Draxler- 
 Manfred. 
 
 Wackernagel, who has cultivated his talents by the 
 study of the German Poetry of the olden time; Kopisch, 
 the humourous lyrist ; Robert Reinick, a master in 
 the naive and arch love-song ; Franz Gaudy, whose 
 " Liebeslieder" are far better than his " Kaiser- 
 lieder;" Freiligrath, who writes with clearness and 
 sharpness of perception, but whos6 brilliant colouring 
 often becomes glaring, who abounds in rhetoric and 
 rhyme, while, at times, he falls into great harshness of 
 expression ; and, lastly, Emanuel Geibel ; — all of these 
 possess no little originality and poetic capacity. The 
 delicacy and finely drawn figures of the lastTinentioned 
 writer, his deep and heartfelt tones, render him one 
 of the most notable poets of the day. 
 
 But in originality of form and matter, most of the 
 moderns are excelled by a lady — perhaps the only real 
 poetess Germany ever produced — Anna Elizabet von 
 Droste-Hiilshoff.* In her lyric poems she speaks out, 
 with the sharp accents of truth, the deepest experiences 
 of the pure female mind ; while her poetic tales are 
 among the very best of the present age. Though in 
 expression she may at times not be sufficiently clear, 
 yet the subjects she selects are invariably poetical and 
 noble, and often grand. 
 
 * Bom at Miinster, and died, 24th May, 1848, at Meersburg, on the 
 Lake of Constance, aged 51. Her poems, all written in the latter years 
 of her life, were first published 1838, then 1844. 
 
 z 3 
 
510 GERMAN LITEKATURE. 
 
 Giesebrecht is the poet of the serious and sincere 
 side of German domestic life. Zedlitz is the poet of 
 modern elegy, in his " Todtenkranzen, which have not 
 met with the fame they deserve. He was, however, 
 one of the first of his countrymen to write verses in 
 honour of Napoleon. His " Waldfraulein" is quite in 
 the elder romantic line. Wolfgang Menzel's " Riibe- 
 zahl" is likewise in the earlier romantic mode. He 
 has a great talent for description, and writes the most 
 melodious verses, in language the morst correct. Not 
 less noteworthy is "Wilhelm Miiller *, the poet of Greek 
 liberty. The sweet strains of his " Keisender Wald- 
 hornist" were soon followed by the deep, piercing notes 
 of the Greek songs, which set all the world on fire, 
 emanating, as they did, from a rare and genuine 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 We now arrive at the transition from this old state 
 of things, with its calm content; its delight in the 
 ancient glories, actual and poetical, of Germany, and 
 in its liberation from a foreign yoke ; and we pass to 
 the new state of things, with its uneasy expectation 
 and discontent. The men of this transition are Ana- 
 stasius Griin (Anton Alexander Count Auersberg) 
 and Nikolaus Lenau (Nikolaus Nimbsch von Streh- 
 lenau).t The former, in his "Blatter der Liebe," half 
 
 * The father of the present learned Taylor Professor of Modern 
 Languages in the University of Oxford Editor. 
 
 t Born, 1802, in Hungary. He -was one of those visionary and uneasy 
 geniuses -who, in this life, look for a Utopia. Like HolderUn, he became 
 deranged, and died in a madhouse, at Vienna, 22nd August, 1850. He 
 published his collected poems, 1834. "Faust" appeared, 1837j "Savo- 
 narola," 1838; "Die Albigenser," 1842. 
 
 Died at Paris, 1S56.— Editor. 
 
THE NEW PEKIOD. 511 
 
 imitates the usual tone of the Austrian poets, and half 
 the playful manner of Heine. He soon, however, 
 betook himself to national poetry, e. g. in " Der letzte 
 Eiitter," and then to political poetry, in the " Spazier- 
 gange eines Wiener Poeten," and in " Schutt." His 
 style is always firm and noble, but not always flexible. 
 His " Nibelungen in Track" bespeaks him to be no 
 mean humorist. In thought and form Lenau is much 
 less firm. His lyrics owe their reputation more to the 
 interest of the moment than to any intrinsic merit. 
 His "Faust" is confused, and his "Savonarola" and 
 " Albigenser " good only in parts. 
 
 Like the above, Heinrich Heine issued from the 
 Eomantic School. But he soon adopted another tone, 
 which was anything but beneficial to the cause of 
 poetry. Remarkably deep poetic perception, with the 
 most superficial frivolity, an unconstrained ease of ex- 
 pression, accommodating itself to the subject with the 
 most charming readiness ; and, on the other hand, not 
 unfrequently, utter negligence and slovenliness of com- 
 position, — such were his characteristics throughout. 
 He has too lately passed away to admit of a final 
 judgment being given upon him and his transient 
 Aweary-of-the-world School ; but there is no doubt 
 that posterity will judge of him as they judged of 
 Biirger, that he was endowed with excellent points, 
 nay, with almost a creative genius, which was ruined 
 for want of moderation. 
 
 The drama of the Schlegel School is represented by 
 Matthaus von Collin, Heinrich von Kleist, who died 
 early by his own hand, and Adam Oehlenschlager, the 
 Dane. The first of these, albeit he makes a laudable 
 
 Z 4 
 
512 GERMAN LITEEATURE. 
 
 attempt to place before us great historic characters, 
 ■yvith a grand historic . background, yet fails to infuse 
 into his pieces the requisite quantum of life and move- 
 ment. "With Lessing's "Minna" or Goethe's "Gotz" 
 we cannot compare them; and they fall short of Schil- 
 ler's "Wallenstein." 
 
 Kleist's "Katchen von Heilbronn" and "Prinz von 
 Hombui-g" are known on the German stage, and indicate 
 considerable, but uncertain and undeveloped talent. 
 
 The translations of Spanish dramas made by the 
 successors of the Romantic School are a mistake. Not 
 much can be said in praise of their own national plays. 
 One of the best of these is Uhland's "Ernst von 
 Schwaben," which handles the very ancient national 
 legend that has been already mentioned. This piece 
 has some good national colouring, and the old fidelity 
 between Ernst and Wernher is well brought out. 
 The other characters, however, lack individuality, and 
 the transactions sufficient motive ; while the action is 
 less regarded than the speech-making. Immermann's 
 "Hofer" wants the proper poetic distance of events to 
 make it dramatically effective. 
 
 In his earlier dramas, " Die Sohne des Thales " (at 
 least in the first part of it, " Die Templar auf Cypem"), 
 "■ Das Kreuz an der Ostsee, " and " Martin Luther, " 
 Zacharias Werner gave promise of a poetic realisation 
 of the tenets of the New School.* In "Luther," 
 
 * Frieiirich Ludwig Zacharias Werner born, 1768, at Konigsburg; 
 died, 18^3, at Vienna. He ■wrote his early works during his residence 
 at Warsaw, where he led a very dissolute hfe. In 1811 he turned 
 Papist, at Eome; and a little afterwards wrote his "24th February," 
 In 1814 he became a priest, and favourite preacher at Vienna. Not 
 long before his death he joined the order of the Eedemptorists. A 
 
THE NEW PEBIOD, 513 
 
 however, the matter and the manner become obscure. 
 His " Der vier-und-zwanzigste Februar" is much more 
 famous. This is the first of those "Tragedies of 
 Fate/' afterwards so notorious, with which Houwald, 
 Milliner, and Gi:illparzer invaded the stage. These, 
 to wit, such plays as Milliner's " Schuld," about which 
 all the world at one time raved, and Grillparzer's 
 " Ahnfrau/' are the very counterpart of true poetry. 
 The hollow pathos of these "Dramas of Fate/' no 
 doubt, put Kotzebue to flight; but for thirty years 
 they blocked up the way to anything better. Indeed, 
 even now, the favour bestowed on such unpoetical 
 pieces as Miinch-Bellinghausen's " Griseldis" evidences 
 a depraved taste. 
 
 The next group that remains to be mentioned after 
 the Eomantic School, are the Patriotic poets of 1813, 
 who are intimately allied with Kerner, Uhland, and 
 Schwab. Foremost stands old Arndt, a native of the 
 Island of Riigen, who has written songs which once 
 enraptured and inflamed the hearts of Germany. 
 Occasional songs, such as his " Was ist des Deutschen 
 Vaterland," " Der Gott der Eisen wachsen liess," 
 "Was schmettern die Trompeten? Husaren heraus," 
 have not been equalled since the sixteenth century. 
 Their greatest merit is that they spoke out the best 
 feelings of the time, — a time such as Germany had 
 not seen since the sixteenth century, — with perfect 
 truth and without exaggeration and phrase. Since the 
 ditties on the battle of Pavia, no war ditties have ever 
 
 biography of him was published by Hitzig, 1823. A selection of his 
 works appeared in 1841. 
 
514 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 been sung with such heart and soul as his, and so long 
 as the glory and the joy 6f 1813 are remembered, so 
 long will the memory of the old Bard of RUgen be 
 retained by his countrymen. 
 
 Theodor Komer, the poet of the "Leier und 
 Schwert/' must next be mentioned. His poems have 
 not the poetic force and truth of Arndt's. They 
 smack of the rhetorical element, which, soon after the 
 war of liberty, pervaded practical life among the youth 
 of Germany. Still in those days they penetrated to the 
 very hearts of his countrymen, and resounded among 
 the ranks of those who were fighting for their father- 
 land. Such were " Liitzow's wilde Jagd," " Manner 
 und Buben," " Der Schwert," and " Die Eisenbraut," 
 which he wrote a few moments before he met his 
 death at Wcibbelin by the bullet of Franz the Musketeer, 
 who still survives. 
 
 His dramas are mere copies from Schiller. Still 
 they are not unsuccessful ones, especially " Zriny," 
 which in spite of all its exaggerations, has a fine 
 historic back-ground. 
 
 In Max von Schenkendorf's poems there is an in- 
 fusion of Christian piety, which reminds us qf Novalis. 
 His tone is not so much one of exultation in the battle 
 and the victory, as of love for home and fatherland. 
 His song " Von den deutschen Stadten," his " Bauern- 
 lied," his " Erhebt euch von der Erde, ihr Schlafer aus 
 der Euh," and above all those to the Empress Maria 
 Ludovica Beatrix of Austria, must ever rank high in 
 the field of poetry.* 
 
 * Friedrich Gottfried Maximilian von Schenkendorf -was born at 
 Tilsit, nth December, 1784; died at Coblentz, Uth December, 1819. 
 
THE NEW PERIOD. 515 
 
 Tn his " Geharniscbte Sonnetten," Friedrich Kiickert 
 struck a key which people were not accustomed to in 
 sonnet-writing. Subsequently, he devoted himself to 
 Oriental studies, which was the latest poetical field of 
 Goethe ; and he has here, we must confess, exhibited 
 an incomparable mastery of language, although we may 
 not approve of the choice of the subject. 
 
 But his other poems, which are exceedingly nu- 
 merbus, have a life and variety, a tenderness and 
 fervour, and frequently a depth and earnestness, which 
 stamp them as among the most important poetic pro- 
 ducts of the period. 
 
 Of these later poets, Count August Platen is the 
 greatest master of form.* But his poems are too 
 estranged from German thought, German love and 
 life ; too bad-tempered, too cold and smooth, too arti- 
 ficial, ever to become thoroughly popular. 
 
 These defects are most frequent and most striking 
 in his sonnets and odes, which, nevertheless, contain 
 great poetic beauties. Still, as a master of poetic forms, 
 of versification and metre, he has not his equal in the 
 language. His poems are among the richest in great 
 thoughts of modern times ; while in his dramas, " Der 
 Schatz der Eampsinit," " Die verhangnisvoUe Gabel," 
 
 His best poems are in his " yaterlandslieder," 1815, and his "Nachlass" 
 (posthumous works), 1832. A collected edition of his poems appeared 
 in 1837. 
 
 * Count Platen-Hallermiinde -was horn at Anshach, 1796. Formerly 
 a Bavarian ofScer ; suhsequently studied philosophy and philology, and, 
 after 1826, chiefly resided in Italy. He died at Syracuse, 5th December, 
 1835. His " Polenlieder " are not given in the collective edition of his 
 works. They were printed in Strasburg, and were at one time much 
 thought of; but they are far behind his other poems. 
 
 z 6 
 
516 GERMAN LITEEATUEE. 
 
 and " Der romantische CEdipus," he chastises the bad 
 taste of his contemporaries with marvellous power. 
 His other dramas, "Der Glaserne Pantoffell," in which 
 he treats the fairy world almost in the fashion of 
 Tieck, " Der Thurm von sieben Pforten," " Berengar," 
 and " Treue um Treue," are pre-eminent in point of 
 form ; but less so in sxibject-matter and treatment. 
 His last drama, " Die Liga von Cambrai," shows that 
 he had passed his zenith as a writer before the year 
 1832. It is a mere sketch, full of speeches and de- 
 void of action. Of Platen's other poems, some of his 
 ballads, and his " Eclogues and Idyls," are most likely 
 to endure ; while his agreeable and artistic fairy 
 tale "Die Abbasiden," which the poet, singularly 
 enough, considered to be his best work, is a mere play 
 of the phantasy, of very fleeting interest. His best 
 work, " Der romantische CEdipus," is spoilt by the 
 undeserved satire it contains upon the poet Karl 
 Immermann, who died five years after Platen. 
 
 Immermann's name will be the last on our list, for 
 his poetical romance, " Miinchhausen,'' is the only one 
 of real artistic value that these times have produced.* 
 
 * Karl Leberecht Immermann was born at Magdeburg, 1 796 ; died at 
 Diisseldorf, 26th August, 1840. His " Miinehhausen," iu four volumes 
 is his last complete work. " Tristan und Isolde "was never finished, 
 and is, poetically, of no account. He and Platen are the only writers 
 who have succeeded in treating some phases of the times satirically. 
 TheHofschulze, and other characters in " Miinehhausen," indicate a deep 
 and delicate sense for German nature-life on the part of the author. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Abenteuer, tales of fancy, 230. 
 
 " Abenteuerliehe Simplicissimus," by 
 
 Grimmelshausen, 361. 
 Abgesangi a division of the strophe, 
 
 19S. 
 Adelung, compiler of the German 
 
 Dictionary, 4. 
 " ^neas," an art-epic by Veldekin, 
 
 108, 147. 
 jSneid of Virgil, best known art- 
 epic, 39. 
 "Aeyquam, or the Great Mogul," 
 
 by Hagdorn, 3S8. 
 '*Alberich von Bisenzun," poem 
 
 of, 144. 
 Albert, Heinrich, 328. 
 Alberus, Erasmus, didactic fables 
 
 of, 278. 
 Albrecht von Scharfenberg, 133. 
 "Alexander the Great," an art-epic, 
 
 108. 
 — — , German legend of, not based 
 
 on history, 142. 
 , version of, by Priest Lam- 
 
 precht the best, 143. 
 , experiences of the Crusaders 
 
 embodied in, 144. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 145. 
 
 Allegorical poems of 14th and 15th 
 
 centuries, 228. 
 AUegoric-Satirio-Animal poem, 275. 
 Alliterative verse, the ancient Ger- 
 man form ol versification, IS. 
 
 . , specimens of, 16. 
 
 , reasons for its disuse, 19. 
 
 Alsace, the home of German satire, 
 
 295. 
 
 Ancient German legends, S. 
 
 , why distasteful to Christian 
 
 notions, 18. 
 
 , modifications and alterations 
 
 of, 20. 
 
 Ancient German heroic poems, 7. 
 
 , disappear in the 9th cen- 
 tury, 20. 
 
 Angelus Silesius, 336. 
 
 Animal-epic of 1 6th century, 275. 
 
 Animal-fable distinct from Animal- 
 epic, 190. 
 
 , writers of, in 13th centurv, 
 
 190. 
 
 , writers of, in 16th century, 
 
 278. 
 
 Animal-sagas, whence derived, 184. 
 
 , indigenous to Germany, 185. 
 
 , the names of, German, 186. 
 
 , French influence on, 186. 
 
 , localisation of, 187. 
 
 , first committed to writing in 
 
 the Netherlands, 187. 
 
 , passed over to France, 188. 
 
 Animals, superstitious regard of, by 
 the ancient Germans, 185. 
 
 " Annolied," the, account of, 165. 
 
 "ApoUonius of Tyre," a poem of 
 the 15th century, 229. 
 
 " Apophthegmata," by Zinkgraf, 328. 
 
 Architecture and painting in 14th 
 and 15th centuries, 217. 
 
 Arminius, memory of, preserved by 
 Tacitus, 5. 
 
 " Arminius and Thusnelda " by I.o- 
 henstein, 357. 
 
 Arndt, the old Bard of Riigen, 513. 
 
 Arnim, Ludwig von, 504. 
 
 Art-epic, 39. 
 
518 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Art-epic, ^neidofVirgil best known, 
 
 S9. 
 Art- epics of old period, 107. 
 , the oldest prototypes of the 
 
 modern romance, 350. 
 
 , 5 principal groups of, 107, 108. 
 
 , 1st group French sagas about 
 
 Charlemagne, 109, 
 , 2nd group " Der Heilige 
 
 Gral, &c., 117. 
 , Srd group " King Artus," &c., 
 
 122. 
 , 4th group, antique poems and 
 
 sagas, 142. 
 
 , 5th group, church legends, 1 50. 
 
 , Stories not connected with 
 
 these groups, 165. 
 Art-lyric, or Minne poetry, 194. 
 Art-poetry mainly the production of 
 
 emperors and kings, 36. 
 
 , also called court-poetry, 37. 
 
 , form of, 37. 
 
 , decline of, 328. 
 
 Artus-Saga, poems of the, 140. 
 
 , high estimation of, 142, 
 
 "Assenat," romance by Ton Zesen, 
 
 353, 354. 
 "Asiatische Banise, &c." by von 
 
 Ziegler and Kliphausen, 356. 
 Attila, hero of the 4th saga group, 
 
 42. 
 Aventuriers, histories of the, 360. 
 
 B. 
 
 " Barden-gebriill," 469. 
 
 Bards not known amongst the an- 
 cient Germans, 13. 
 
 , so-called, inspired by Klop- 
 
 stock's poetry, 468. 
 
 the forerunners of the " Genius- 
 period," 469 71. 
 
 " Barlaam and Josaphat," poem by 
 Eudolph von Ems, 156, 157. 
 
 Barthold Feind, 344 n. 
 
 " Belustigungen des Verstandes und 
 Witzes," 371,375. 
 
 " Beovulf," ancient heroic poem in 
 Anglo-Saxon, 12. 
 
 , Christian additions to, 20. 
 
 Berner Ton, a form of national 
 poetry, 36. 
 
 Berner Ton, why so called, 36. 
 
 Bernlef, minstrel of the Sth cen- 
 tury, 15. 
 
 " Bescheidenheit des Freidank," a 
 didactic poem, 191. 
 
 Berthold the Franciscan monk, ser- 
 mons pf, 215. 
 
 Bertolt von Holle, poems of, 175. 
 
 Bible, translation of the, by Ulfilas, 
 the oldest monument of German 
 literature, I. 
 
 , Luther's translation of the, 
 
 transformed the German language, 
 SOS. 
 
 " Blenenkorb " by Fischart, 295. 
 
 " Biterolf und Dietlieb," Old Ger- 
 man epic, 39. 
 
 Blank verse introduced by Klop- 
 stock, 395. 
 
 Blumauer, his poems, 486. 
 
 Boccacio, composition of novels in- 
 troduced by, 352. 
 
 Bodmer contrasted with Gottsched, 
 366. 
 
 , his contest with Gottsched, 
 367. 
 
 , various works of, 369. 
 
 , his eccentricities, 384. 
 
 Bohse, August, 358. 
 
 Boner, fables by, 190, 369. 
 
 Brandanus, 228. 
 
 Brant, Sebastian, satirist, 291. 
 
 " Braut von Messina," tragedy by 
 Schiller, 460. 
 
 Brentano, Clemens, 504. 
 
 Brockes, Barthold Heinrich, 349. 
 
 Bronner, Xaver, 471. 
 
 Biirger, 472, 473. 
 
 , his sonnets, 474. 
 
 Burgundian series of, Sagas, 42. 
 
 Burkhard Waldis, 191, 282. 
 
 , his fables, 278. 
 
 Canitz, 348. 
 
 " Catalogus Catalogorum " by Fi- 
 schart, 296. 
 
 Chamisso, 507. 
 
 Charlemagne, collection of German 
 lays by, 8. 
 
 , Sagas of, represented by the 
 
 " Rolandslied," 109. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 519 
 
 " Cherilbinischer Wandersmann," by 
 
 Soheffer, 336. 
 Christian Church, its influence on 
 
 German poetry in 12th and 13th 
 
 centuries, SO. 
 " Christian Romance," 355. 
 Christianity antagonistic to the old 
 
 German poetry, 18. 
 , how suited to the German 
 
 character, 3 1 . 
 Chronicles, prose historic, of the 14th 
 
 and 15th centuries, 208. 
 and historic poems, art-epics, 
 
 108. 
 Church hymns, 283. 
 — — disappeared with the 17th cen- 
 tury, 334. 
 Church legends, ISO. 
 Classic poetry introduced into Ger- 
 many by Melissus, 282. 
 Classics, Greek and Roman, their 
 
 Influence on German literature, 
 
 224, 265. 
 Claudius, Matthias, his works, 478, 
 
 479 n. 
 Clergy and laity, their position in 
 
 13th century shown in " PfafTe 
 
 Amis," 182. 
 Codex Argenteus, 3. 
 " Codrus," tragedy by von Cronegk, 
 
 387. 
 Collin, Matthaus von, 512. 
 Comedies of Weisse, 387. 
 Comedy, 256, 264. 
 
 , origin of, 289. 
 
 Comic works of the 16th century, 
 
 299. 
 " Count Rudolf," romance, 29. 
 Cramer, 376, 379. 
 " Crane," poem by Bertolt von Holle, 
 
 175. 
 " Crescentia," story of, 170. 
 Crusades, revival of poetry in Ger- 
 many at the time of the, 27, 31. 
 Crusaders, their experience embodied 
 
 in the Saga "Alexander the Great," 
 
 144. 
 
 D. 
 
 Dach, Simon, 328. 
 
 " Daniel von Blumenthal," 141 n. 
 
 " Darifant," by Von Holle, 175. 
 " Das Alte Passional," legendary 
 
 poem, 227 n. 
 " Das gliickhafl: Schiff von Zilrioh," 
 
 by Fischart, 274. 
 " Das Vierhbrnige Jesuiterhiitlein," 
 
 Fischart, 296. •< 
 
 Decay of poetry in the 14th and 
 
 15th centuries, 216. 
 
 , causes of, 217. 
 
 Deistical tendency of romances of 
 
 17th century, 360. 
 notions regarding the Old Tes- 
 tament exploded by Herder, 426. 
 " Demantin," by Von HoJle, 175. 
 Denis, his works, 469. 
 " Der Aufruhr in Pisa," by Hahn, 
 
 496. 
 " Der arme Heinrich," by Hart- 
 
 mann, 171. 
 " Der Friihiing," by Kleist, 416. 
 " Der Heilige Gregor auf dem 
 
 Steine," church legend, by Hart- 
 
 mann, 156. 
 " Der Heilige Gral," art-epic, 107. 
 " Der Gute Gerhard," by Rudolph 
 
 von Ems, 173. 
 " Der Romantische CEdipus," by 
 
 Platen, 516. 
 " Der treue Eokart," by RingwaUl, 
 
 281. 
 " Der ungenahete Rock Christi," 
 
 church legend, 163. 
 " Der Weisskunig," by Maximi- 
 lian I., 258. 
 Devotional works of 14th and 15th 
 
 centuries, 260. 
 
 poems of 1 6th century, 278. 
 
 " Diohterbund," of Gbttingen, 472. 
 Didactic-ascetic-piose, 259. 
 Didactic poetry, 191, 249. 
 " Die Deutsche Poeterei," by Opitz, 
 
 315. 
 " Die Kindheit unseresHerrn," 155. 
 " Die lautere Warheit," by Ring- 
 
 wald,281. 
 " Die Rauber," by Schiller, 453. 
 " Die Welt," a collection of fables, 
 
 by Strieker, 190. 
 Dietmar von Eist, specimen of Minne 
 
 poetry by, 201. 
 Dietrich of Bern, hero of the East- 
 Gothic sagas, 42. 
 
520 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Dietrich, his fight with the Bur- 
 
 gundians, 80. 
 
 , poems relating to, 88, 91 , 92. 
 
 , legend of, 92. 
 
 " Die Insel Felsenburg," by Schna- 
 
 bel, 360. 
 " Don Carlos," by Schiller, 456. 
 Drama, Lessing the model of, 404. 
 Dramas of Goethe, 450. 
 
 , religious, 253. 
 
 Dramatic poetry, origin of German, 
 
 251. 
 Dramatists of the ISlh century, 
 
 385. 
 " Drei Erznarren," satiric romance, 
 
 345. 
 DroUinger, 350. 
 Droste-Hiilshoflfvon, her lyric poem 
 
 509. 
 
 E. 
 
 East-Gothic series of sagas, 42. 
 
 Easter plays, 253. 
 
 Ebert, Johann Arnold, 376. 
 
 , his translations, 385. 
 
 " Ecken Ausfart," Old German epic, 
 
 38. 
 
 , written in the Betner Ton, 88. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 88. 
 " Edelstein," by Boner, the oldest 
 
 printed German book, 190. 
 " Egmont," by Goethe, 442. 
 Eichendorf, J. von, 505. 
 Eilhart von Oberg, 138 7j. 
 " Emilia Galotti," by Lessing, a 
 
 model of tragic form, 405. 
 " Empfahen," a specimen of transi- 
 tion from the Minnelied to the 
 
 Volkslied, 246. 
 Engel, Johann Jacob, 482. 
 Epigrams of Kastner, 384. 
 
 Von Logau, 825. 
 
 Epithets, importance attached to, in 
 
 17th centnry, 314. 
 Erasmus Alberus, 191. 
 " Erec," art-epic, by Hartmann, 
 
 108, 139 n. 
 " Ernst von Schwaben," by Uhland, 
 
 512. 
 " Erwin und Elmire," opera by 
 
 Goethe, 450. 
 
 Etzel, King of the Huns, hero of 
 
 the Niebelungenlied, 64. 
 " Eulenspiegel," 303. 
 " Evangelical Church Hymn " of 
 
 the 16th century, 382. 
 of the 17th century, 331. 
 
 F. 
 
 Fable distinct from epic, 190. 
 
 , didactic, 278. 
 
 writers of the new period, 379, 
 
 380. 
 Fables of Hagedorn, 373. 
 
 of Gellert, 377. * 
 
 of Lichtwer, 380. 
 
 Fastnachtspiele, first specimen of 
 
 comedy, 256. 
 Faust, Dr., legend of, 305. 
 " Faust," Goethe's, 442. 
 
 , Klinger's, 495. 
 
 , Miiller's, 495. 
 
 Fidelity the characteristic of Ger- 
 man epics, 39. 
 Fischart, 264, 274. p 
 
 , didactic poems of, 279. 
 
 , satirical works of, 295. 
 
 , his peculiarity of style, 297. 
 
 Flemming, 321, 322 k. 
 
 " Flohatz," comic poem by Fischart, 
 
 276. 
 " Flos and Blankflos,*' art-epic of 
 
 the Carlovingian sagas, 117. 
 Folz, Hans, a comic writer, 256. 
 Form for national poetry, 35. 
 
 for artistic narrative poetry,37. 
 
 for lyrics, 37. 
 
 " Fortunatus," by Tieek, 503. 
 
 Fouque, 505. 
 
 , his "Magic Ring," whence 
 
 taken, 92. 
 , his " Undine," whence derived, 
 
 230. 
 Frank, Sebastian, 308. 
 Franke, pietist school of, 343. 
 
 , influence of, 347. 
 
 " Frantz Sternbald," by Tieck, 502. 
 Frauendienst division of Minne 
 
 poetry, 199, 
 "Frauendienst," by Von Lichten- 
 
 stein, 208. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 521 
 
 Frauenlob, reputed founder of Meis- 
 
 tergesang, 213, 234, 237. 
 " Frauenzimraer-Gesprachspiele," by 
 
 Hartzdorfer, 329. 
 " Frau Jutte," by Schernberg, 2S6. 
 Frederick II. of Prussia, his opinion 
 
 of the Nibelungenlied, 85. 
 Freiburg, H. von, 137. 
 Freienthal, Reinhold von, a Swiss 
 
 poet, 349. 
 Freiiigrath, 509. 
 French, British legends in favour 
 
 with the, 123. 
 , manners and language of the, 
 
 their prejudicial influence on Ger- 
 man poetry, 312. 
 
 sagas of Charlemagne, 107. 
 
 " Friederich von Schwaben," 229. 
 
 Frblich, 191. 
 
 " Froschmeuseler," a satirical poem, 
 
 276. 
 Fiiterer, Ulrich, a Bavarian poet, 
 
 226. 
 
 " GanskiJnig," by Spangenberg, 277. 
 
 " Gargantua," by Fischart, 298. 
 
 Gartner, 375. 
 
 " Geharnischte Sonnetten." by 
 Riickert, 515, 
 
 Geibel, 509. 
 
 Geiler, preacher of the mystic 
 school, 260. 
 . Gellert, 191, 375, 376 n. 
 
 , dramas and fables of, 377. 
 
 , cause of popularity of, 378. 
 
 , spiritual songs of, 378. 
 
 " Genoveva," by Miiller, 495. 
 
 Gerhard, Paul, hymns of, 333. 
 
 German character, 31. 
 
 , Christianity specially suited to, 
 
 31. 
 
 etymology and historical gram- 
 mar, on what constructed, 1. 
 
 drama, 251, 257. 
 
 , development of, 287. 
 
 epics, 37 — 41. 
 
 , fidelity the chief characteristic 
 
 of, 39. 
 
 history, first prose chronicle of, 
 
 258, n. 
 
 German language, Grimm the best 
 
 interpreter of the, 4. 
 ancient and rnodern, contrast 
 
 between, 17. 
 , societies founded for the im- 
 provement of, 316. 
 literature of the 16th cen- 
 tury, great change in the, 264. 
 . , influence of the Greek and 
 
 Roman classics on, 221, 265. 
 
 , second classical period of, 342. 
 
 , revival of, 362. 
 
 minstrels, 14. 
 
 poetry, commencement of, 4 
 
 , form of the most ancient, 15. 
 
 , Upper Saxony the fatherland 
 
 of, 344. 
 . causes of its decay in 14th and 
 
 ISth centuries, 216 — 223. 
 
 , extinction of, 311. 
 
 , lamentable condition of, in 
 
 17th century, 346. 
 is revived by Wernicke, &c., 
 
 348, 349, 367. 
 Germans, singing together a national 
 
 characteristic of the, 14. 
 Gerstenberg, 493. 
 Gesellschaftslied, 311. 
 " Gesichte Philanders von Sitten- 
 
 wald," 327. 
 Gessner, 329. 
 
 , his attack on Weisse, 388. 
 
 Geszner, the idyllic poet, 471. 
 
 Giesehrecht, 510. 
 
 Gleim, 415. ^— 
 
 " Gliick und Traum," by Goethe, 432. 
 
 " Gockel Hinkel und Gackelaia," 
 
 by Brentano, 504. 
 Gbckingk, 480. 
 Goethe, 431. 
 , reality and freedom of his 
 
 writings, 432. 
 , earliest lyric productions of, 
 
 432. 
 , his dramas, *' Gotz,*' 443 j 
 
 " Wertber." 439. 
 
 , his satires, 438. 
 
 , his journey to Italy, 440. 
 
 , his " Iphigenie," 440. 
 
 , " Tasst)," 441. 
 
 , " Egmont," 442. 
 
 , " Faust," 442. 
 
 , his biographies, 448. 
 
522 
 
 ■ INDEX. 
 
 Goethe, interest felt by the public for, 
 
 449 m. 
 
 -, his dramas, 450. 
 
 , studies of his old age, 450. 
 
 , his soundness of understanding, 
 
 451. 
 
 I his self-complacency, 464. 
 
 , compared with Schiller, 465. 
 
 — ^, the pantheistic tendency of his 
 
 writings, 466. 
 
 , his dramatic imitators, 483. 
 
 " Goldene Schmiede," by K. von 
 
 Wiirtzburg, 155. 
 Gospels, Ulfilas' translation of, 2 n. 
 Gotter, 486. 
 Gottesdeinst, division of Minne- 
 
 poetry, 199. 
 Gothic, knowledge of, necessary to 
 
 comprehend the old and middle 
 
 High German poems, 1. 
 Gbttingen, poetical confederacy of, 
 
 472. 
 Gottsched, S39. 
 , benefits rendered to German 
 
 literature by, 364. 
 
 , his various works, 365. 
 
 , his contest with Bodmer, 365, 
 
 367. 
 
 , decline of his influence, 368. 
 
 , writings of his wife, 369. 
 
 " Gotz von Berlichingen," drama by 
 
 Goethe, 434. 
 Grimm, 4. 
 
 Grimmelshausen, C. von, 362. 
 Griin, 510. 
 Gryphius, Andreas, leader of the 
 
 Silesian school, 322, 325 n. 
 
 , various works of, 323, 
 
 , Christian, 345. 
 
 Gudrun, Old German epic poem, its 
 
 resemblance to the Iliad, 37. 
 , one of the finest specimens of 
 
 the German epic, 43. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 96 — 1 03. 
 
 , translation of, 104 n. 
 
 , preserved by the Emperor 
 
 Maximilian, 103. 
 Guest, Lady, edition of Welsh Ro- 
 mances by, 140. 
 Guilds of the Meistersingers, 234. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hagedorn, 191, 373. * 
 " Halladat," by Gleim, 415. 
 Halle, or Prussian group of writers, 
 
 414. 
 Haller, his influence on the revival 
 
 of poetry, 372. 
 Hamann, 424, 488. 
 Hanke, 34S. 
 
 Happel, various works of, 359. 
 Harmony of the Gospels, old Saxon 
 
 poem of the earliest period, 21. 
 
 , by Otfrid, 23. 
 
 , scientiflc rules of German ver- 
 sification derived from it, 23. 
 Hartraann von der Aue, 36, 138. 
 , one of the best Mirmesingersj 
 
 205. 
 Hartzdorfer, writer of the Nurem- 
 berg school, 329. 
 Hauff, 508. 
 
 Hansen, F. von, a Minne-poet, 202. 
 Hebel, 478. 
 
 Heerman, church hymns of, 334. 
 Heidelberg, MS. collections of 
 
 Minne-songs, 200. 
 " Heilige Gral," the, art-epic, 107, 
 
 117. 
 
 , epitome of, 1 18. 
 
 chapel at Prague, model of 
 
 the temple described in the, 121. 
 
 , legend of, 121. 
 
 , combined with " King Artus," 
 
 124. 
 , spiritual existence represented 
 
 by, 125. 
 " Heimonskinder," ait-epic of sagas 
 
 of Charlemagne, 117. 
 Heine, Heinrieh, 511. 
 Heinrich der Teichner, 249. 
 Heinse, 487. 
 " Heldenbriefe," by Hoffmanswaldau, 
 
 340. 
 " Heldpnbuch," 107 n, 225, 267. 
 " Heliand," ancient sacred poem, 21. 
 , composed by Saxons, in the 
 
 9th century. 
 Henrici, 343, 344 n. 
 Herder, 430 n. - 
 , his influence and universal 
 
 knowledge, 425. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 523 
 
 Herder, a literary and social reformer, 
 
 426, 427. 
 
 , his various works, 428, 429. 
 
 , his influence on Goethe, 431. 
 
 " Horribilicribrifax," comedy by 
 
 Gryphius, 324. 
 " Hugdietrich und Wolfdietrich," a 
 
 Lombardic saga, 43. 
 
 , Kketcli of the poem, 105, 
 
 Hunold, 343. 
 
 , his contest with Wernicke, 
 
 347. 
 " Hiirnin Sigfried," poem of ISth 
 
 century, 85. 
 Humourists of the Hamann and 
 
 Herder school, 487, 493. 
 Hymns of the 16th century, 287. 
 17th century, 332. 
 
 " Ibrahim Bassa," drama by Lohen- 
 stein, 342. 
 
 Idyls of Geszner, 471. 
 
 Voss, 476. 
 
 Marten Usteri, 477, 
 
 Hebel, 478. 
 
 ■ ■ IMiiller, 495. 
 
 Iffland, 484. 
 
 Ilsan, the monk, 96. 
 
 Immermann, 516. 
 
 Incantations, forms of ancient Ger- 
 man, 19. 
 
 Indian legend of an earthly paradise, 
 118. 
 
 " In dulci jubilo," Christmas hymn, 
 249. 
 
 Intellectual revolution in the 18th 
 century, 422. 
 
 Inventions and discoveries unfavour- 
 able to poetry, 218. 
 
 " Iphigenie," by Goethe, 440. < 
 
 " Iris," by Jacobi, 417, 428. 
 
 ■' Isengrlmus," earliest specimen of 
 animal-saga, 187. 
 
 " Iwein," by Hartmann, 108, 139. 
 
 Jacobi, writings of, 417. 
 
 " Jagdgedioht von der Minne," al- 
 legorical poem, 231. 
 
 Jest-books of the 16th century, 
 299. 
 
 " Jugend, Jiinglingsjahre und Wan- 
 derschaft," by Stilling, 468. 
 
 " Julius von Tarent," by Leisewiti, 
 481. 
 
 "Jungfrau von' Orleans," tragedy by 
 Schiller, 459. 
 
 K. 
 
 " Kabale und Liebe," by Schiller, 
 
 455. 
 " Kanut," tragedy, by Schlegel, 386. 
 " Kaiserchronik," 167. 
 ** Kaiser Octavianus," drama, by 
 
 Tieck, 503. 
 " Kaiser Heraclius," by Otto, 168. 
 " Karlmainet," poem of the Carlo- 
 
 vingian sagas, 116. 
 Karsch, her history and poems, 418. 
 Kastner, 375. 
 
 , his epigrams, 383, 384. 
 
 , his epitaph, 385. 
 
 Kerner, 507. 
 
 " Kifferbeskraut," by Sachs, 270. 
 
 " King Albrecht und Adolf von 
 
 Kassau," historic poem, 176. 
 " King Artus," art-epic, 108, 122. 
 , various epics constructed upon 
 
 it, 123. 
 , combined with the " Gral," 
 
 124. 
 
 ■, a type of worldly life, 125. 
 
 " King Laurin," old German poem, 
 
 88. 
 " King Otnit," poem of the Lom- 
 bardic sagas, 43. 
 
 , sketch of it, 105. 
 
 " King Rother," heroic saga, 29. 
 " Klage," German epic, sequel to the 
 
 Niebelungen Not, 39, 81. 
 Klei, one of the Nuremberg school, 
 
 329. 
 Kleist, E. C. von, 415. 
 
 , H. von, 512. 
 
 Klinger, 494. 
 Klopstock, 369. — ' 
 
 , sketch of his life, 391 n. 
 
 , compared with Veldekin, 392, 
 
524 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Klopstock, his nationality, 392. 
 
 , Christian enthusiasm of, 393. 
 , adopts the ancient classic form, 
 
 394. 
 
 , his universal sympathy, 395. 
 
 , bis sickly sentimentality, 396. 
 
 , his " Messiah, 397. 
 
 -, his odes and other works, 398, 
 
 399. 
 — — compared with Wolfram, 412. 
 , group of poets who followed, 
 
 467, 481. 
 Knights Templars, 119. 
 ■- Konigsberg school of poetry, 328. 
 Konrad von Wiirzburg, 149. 
 
 , his " Goldene Sohmiede,"15S. 
 
 , form of poetry in perfection in 
 
 his time, 1 SO. 
 — , his " Saint Sylvester," and 
 
 ** Saint Alexius," 1 57. 
 — ■ — , " The Emperor with the 
 
 Beard," by, 176. 
 , " Engelhart und Engeltrut," 
 
 268. 
 Korner, patriotic poet, 514. 
 Kotzebue, 484. 
 
 , his jealousy of Goethe and 
 
 Schiller, 485. 
 
 , his contest with the Romantic 
 
 school, 499. 
 Kretschmann, 408. 
 Kriemhild, heroine of the Sigfrid 
 
 saga, 45. 
 " Kritische Walder," by Herder, 
 
 426. 
 Kunhart von Stoffel, 142. 
 
 " Landsknechts-Spiegel," by Sachs, 
 279. 
 
 " Lady at the Fountain," Welsh ori- 
 ginal of " Iwein," 140. 
 
 Laity and clergy of Germany, their 
 position in ) Sth century shown in 
 " Pfaffe Amis," 182. ' 
 
 " Lanzelot, vom See," art-epic, 140. 
 
 Lappe, 505. 
 
 Laurenberg, a satirist of the 17th 
 century, 337. 
 
 Lavater, 467. 
 
 Learning prejudicial to poetry, 219. 
 " Leben Alexanders des Grossen," 
 
 classic saga, by Lampreeht, 29. 
 "Leben der Heiligen Familie," by 
 
 Bruder Philip, 154. 
 Legend of earthly paradise, 118. 
 Legendary poetry of 14th and 15lh 
 
 centuries, 226. 
 Legends of saints, art-epics of 5th 
 
 group, 108. 
 Leich, an ecclesiastical form of poem, 
 
 198. 
 Leisewitz, 481. 
 Lenau, 510, 511. 
 "Lenore" by Biirger, 473. 
 Lenz, 496. 
 Lessing, 191, 400. 
 contrasted with Klopstock, 
 
 401. 
 
 , his critical works, 402. 
 
 , style of, 403. 
 
 ■, fables and dramas of, 403. 
 
 , adherents of, 481. 
 
 , dramatic imitators of, 483. 
 
 Lichtenberg, 489. 
 
 Lichtenstein, U. von, 36, 199, 20S. 
 
 Lichtwer, 191, 379. 
 
 " Liet von Troje," by Hprbort, 149. 
 
 " Limberg Chronicle," 258. 
 
 Liscow, a satirist of the new period, 
 
 374. 
 " Litany of All Saints," church le- 
 gendary poem, 153. 
 " Littower," legendary poem by 
 
 Schondoch, 227. 
 Logau, F. von, 325, 326 n. -» 
 "Lohengrin," art-epic, 108, 133. 
 Lohenstein, D. C. von, 339, 341. 
 
 , specimen of his writings, 342. 
 
 , his romance " Arminius and 
 
 Thusnelda," 357. 
 Lombardic series of sagas, 43. 
 ^ Lower Rhenish sagas, 4], 
 " Ludwigslied," poem in rhyme of 
 
 the 9th century, 24. 
 " Luise" by Voss, 477, 
 Luther, hymns by, 286. 
 , translation of Bible by, trans- 
 formed the German language, 308. 
 , not adopted by the mystic 
 
 school, 308. 
 Lyric poems of Goethe, 432. ♦ 
 Lyrical or Minne poetry, 194. « 
 
INDEX. 
 
 525 
 
 Lyrical poetry of 14th and ISth cen- 
 turies, 230. 
 
 M. 
 
 " Maria Stuart," tragedy by Schiller, 
 
 459. 
 Matthison, 471. 
 " Matrone von Ephesus," comedy 
 
 by Weisse, 387. 
 Maximilian, emperor, poem by, 231. 
 , history of Frederick III. and 
 
 Maximilian I., by, 258. 
 " Meier Helmbrecht," by Werner 
 
 der Gartner, 176. 
 Meissen, H. von, defects of his 
 
 poems, 213. 
 , founder of school of melster- 
 
 singers, 213. 
 Meister, Minnesingers of the burgher 
 
 class, 200. 
 Meister gesang, 200, 233, 
 
 poetry of the burghers, 281. 
 
 more an art of rhyme than of 
 
 poetry, 236. 
 , odd names given to the system 
 
 of, 237. 
 , important as being a continu- 
 ation of the Minne-gesang, 237. 
 Meistersingers, guilds of the, 233. 
 Melissus introduced classical poetry 
 
 into Germany, 282. 
 Mendicant friars, 96. 
 
 , sermons of the, 215. 
 
 Menzel, 510. 
 
 " Messiah," by Klopstock, 396. 
 
 Metrical system introduced by Opitz, 
 
 315. 
 Middle-High- German dialect, 30. 
 Middle-Low- German dialect, 28. 
 Miller, 480. 
 
 Milton's " Paradise Lost," its influ- 
 ence on German poetry, Se'. 
 Minden, G. von, fables of, 190. 
 " Minna von Barnhelm," by Lessing, 
 
 the model for historical pieces, 404. 
 Minne-poetry, or art-lyric, 1 95. 
 
 , characteristics of, 196. 
 
 distinct from poetry of the 
 
 troubadours, 197. 
 Minne-poetry entirely German, 197. 
 , its melodiousness, 197. 
 
 Minne-poetry, forms used in, 1 98. 
 
 , various themes of, 199. 
 
 , collections of, 200. 
 
 , its translation into the Volks- 
 
 lied, 246. 
 Minne-singers, 27. 
 
 chiefly of knightly rank, 199. 
 
 , great number of them, 200, 
 
 Minne-songs in honour of Gottfried, 
 
 138. 
 
 , best collection of, 200. 
 
 Minstrels of 12th and ISth cen- 
 turies, 35. 
 " Miss Sara Sampson," tragedy by 
 
 Lessing, 404. 
 Monument to Goethe and Schiller 
 
 at Weimar, 465 w. 
 " Morin," by von Sachsenheim, 231. 
 Miigeln, H. von, 233. 
 Muhlfort, poet of the 2nd Silesian 
 
 school, 344 w. 
 Miiller, F., 496 n. 
 
 , W., 510. 
 
 " Miiiichausen," by Immermann, 516, 
 Murner, a satirist, 292. 
 
 , his various works, 293. 
 
 " Musenalmanach," 472. 
 
 Muspilli, sacred German poem of 
 
 the earliest period, 21. 
 Mystic theology, 259. 
 school, representatives of the, 
 
 308.. 
 Mythology introduced into German 
 
 poetry, 313. 
 
 N. 
 
 " Narrenbeschwbrung," satire by 
 Murner, 292. 
 
 " Nathan," by Lessing, 406. 
 
 National poetry revived in 18th cen- 
 tury, 423. 
 
 songs, 238. 
 
 Natural poetry, 34. 
 
 represented by strolling min- 
 strels, 35. 
 
 , form of, 35. 
 
 Nature, poets of, 471. 
 
 Netherlands, earliest specimen of 
 animal-saga written in the, 187. 
 
 Neukirch, 345, 347. 
 
526 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 NejT period of German literature, 
 
 310. 
 
 , its characteristics, 310. 
 
 , second half of, 421. 
 
 Nibelungen-strophe, a form of popu- 
 lar poetry, 35. 
 " Nibelungenlied," epitome of the 
 
 poem, 44 — 82. 
 
 , origin of, 82. 
 
 , oldest existing form of, 83. 
 
 , manuscripts of, 85. 
 
 , first discovered and published 
 
 by Bodmer, 369. 
 Nibelungen-Not, Old German epic, 
 
 37. 
 
 , resemblance to the Iliad, 37. 
 
 " Klage," the sequel to, 39. 
 
 , sagas combined in, 42. 
 
 Nicolai, his resemblance to Lessing, 
 
 481. 
 Nithart, the link between Minne- 
 
 song and comedy, 21 1. 
 North German series of sagas, 43. 
 Novalis, 501. 
 
 Novels, when first introduced, 352, 
 Nuremberg school of poetry, 329. 
 
 O. 
 
 " Oberon," by Wieland, 409. 
 
 " Octavia," a Roman history, 356. 
 
 Odes of Klopstock, 398. 
 
 Old period of German literature, 23 
 
 — 309. 
 Oldest period of, 1 — 27. 
 Old German epics, 37. 
 
 , of 2nd rank, SB. 
 
 , of 3rd rank, 38. 
 
 , characteristic of, 39. 
 
 , authors of, unknown, 107. 
 
 fell into oblivion, 267. 
 
 Old Testament history, how known 
 
 by the laity before Luther's time, 
 
 I6S. 
 — — , deistical notions respecting, 
 
 exploded by Herder, 426. 
 Operettas of Weisse, 389. 
 Opitz, 310. 
 
 , chief merit of, 315. 
 
 ', character of, 318. 
 
 -, secret of his popularity, 319. 
 
 , his various works, 320. 
 
 Paradise, legend of, 118. 
 
 " Parcival," by W. von Eschenbaoh, 
 32, 226. 
 
 , an art-epic of 2nd group, 108. 
 
 , sketch of, 125. 
 
 , one of the first printed books, 
 
 133. 
 
 — — , resembles Goethe's " Faust," 
 125. 
 
 Passion plays, 254. 
 
 Patriotic poets, 513. * 
 
 " Pater Brey," satire by Goethe, 438. 
 
 Pegnitzsehafer, a society at Nurem- 
 berg, 329. 
 
 Peter Leu, 302. 
 
 " Peter Schlemhil," by Chamisso, 507. 
 
 " Peter Squenz," comedy by Gry- 
 phius, 324. 
 
 " Pfaflfen Amis," by Strieker, abounds 
 with wit, ISO. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 181. 
 
 " PfafFe vom Kalenberg," 301. 
 
 Pfeffel, 380. 
 
 " Phantasus," by Tieck, 503. 
 
 Philological poetry, 221. 
 
 " Pilatus," peculiarity of its compo- 
 sition, 161. 
 
 , origin of the legend, 162. 
 
 Platen, 515. 
 
 Poems, ancient German heroic, 7. 
 
 of the 14th and 15th centuries, 
 
 223. 
 
 of the 1 6th century, 267. 
 
 Poetic revolution in the 1 8th .cen- 
 tury, 421. 
 
 , its leaders, 424. 
 
 Poetical confederacy of Gottingen^ 
 472. 
 
 Poetical prose, 343. 
 
 Poetry, division of, 34. 
 
 with the Germans a national 
 
 affair, 13. 
 
 , alliterative verse the form of 
 
 old German, 15. 
 
 , cause of the power and bril- 
 liancy of ancient German, 17. 
 
 , sacred, 20. 
 
 -, decline of, from the 10th and 
 
 12th centuries, 25. 
 
 , causes of this decline, 26. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 527 
 
 Poetry revived at the time of the 
 Crusades, 27, SI. 
 
 , romantic, what properly so 
 
 called, 108. 
 
 , its external form in the highest 
 
 perfection, 150. 
 
 , didactic, 191 ; nearly allied to 
 
 lyric, 249. 
 
 , Minne, 195. 
 
 -, decline in the 14th and 15th 
 
 centuries, 216. 
 
 , philological, 221. 
 
 , religious, of the 14th and ISth 
 
 centuries, 24S. 
 
 , dramatic, 251. 
 
 , new-popular, of the 16th cen- 
 tury, 263. 
 
 , learned, 313; its extinction, 
 
 423. 
 
 Political chronicles of the 17th cen- 
 tury, 358. 
 
 " Pontus und Sidonia," prose story 
 of 15th century, 351 n. 
 
 Postel, 343. 
 
 Priamels, or prelude-poems, 250. 
 
 Printing unfavourable to poetry, 
 218. 
 
 Prose, prevalence of, from 9th to 
 1 2th century, 25. 
 
 productions of the old period, 
 
 214. 
 
 of the ISth century, 323 n. 
 
 16th century, 264, 295. 
 
 , historical, 257. 
 
 , didactic-ascetic, 259. 
 
 stories of the 15th century, 351. 
 
 , new kind of, in the 16th cen- 
 tury, 264. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rabener, satirist of the new period, 
 
 381. 
 
 contrasted with Liscow, 374. 
 
 , works of, 382 n. 
 
 " Rabenschlacht," oldGerman epic, 
 
 38. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 93. 
 
 Rachel, poetic satirist, 326. 
 Ramler, 419, 476. 
 Reformation, poetry of the, 284. 
 
 , satire on the, by Murner, 293. 
 
 " Reinaert," Dutch version of 
 
 "Reinhart Fuchs," by Willem, 
 189. 
 
 " Reinardus," second work on ani- 
 mal-saga, 187. 
 
 " Reinecke Vos," 189, 228, 275. 
 
 " Reinhart Fuchs," 188. 
 
 " Reinhart und Isengrin," 5, 29, 
 
 contrasted with the Niebe- 
 
 lungenlied, 110. 
 
 , abstract of the poem, 112. 
 
 , origin of the legend, 109 
 
 Religious poetry of the 14th and 
 ] 5th centuries, 248. 
 
 " Renner," a didactic poem, 1 93. 
 
 Richter, 489 n. 
 
 Riddle poem, 249. 
 
 Ringwald, 281. 
 
 Rist, 330 ; hymns of, 333. 
 
 Roberthin, 328. f 
 
 Robinsonades, imitation of " Robin- 
 son Crusoe," 359. 
 
 , their deistical tendency, 360. 
 
 Rolandslied, art-epic, 107. 
 
 Romance, origin of the term, 109. 
 
 of the 17th century, 350 — 
 
 362. 
 
 , the term, when introduced, 
 
 352. 
 Romances, mirrors of the times, 355. 
 
 , historico-political, 358. 
 
 , historical, 361, 
 
 Romantic school, 497. 
 
 , Stolberg, the precursor of, 475. 
 
 , its beneficial influence, 499. 
 
 , contests of, with Kotzebue, 
 
 499. 
 
 , various members of, 505. 
 
 " Rosemund," first German novel, 
 
 353. 
 Rosenbliit, comic writer, 247, 256. 
 ** Rosengarten zu Worms," old Ger- 
 man epic, 39. 
 
 , sketch of the poem, 94. 
 
 , last of the epic poems, 96. 
 
 " Rosengesellschaft," a society of the' 
 
 17th century, 330. 
 Rost, 368, 388. 
 Riickert, 515. • 
 Rudolf von Ems, 143. 
 , various works of, 157, 168, 
 
 173, 175. 
 Rudolf of Hapsburg, decline of 
 
 poetry under his rule, 216. 
 
528 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sachs, poet of the 16th century, 269. 
 
 , his poetical activity, 273. 
 
 , various works of, 139, 1.56, 
 
 171. 
 
 Saored poetry of the oldest period, 
 20. 
 
 Saga-poetry, Its relation to history, 
 109. 
 
 Sagas, 1st group of, the Lower Rhe- 
 nish, 41. 
 
 , 2nd group of, the Burgundlan, 
 
 42. 
 
 , 3rd group o^ the East- Gothic, 
 
 42. 
 
 , 4 th group of, devoted to At- 
 
 tila, 42. 
 
 , 5th group of, the North Ger- 
 man, 43. 
 
 ; 6th group of, the Lomhardic, 
 
 43. 
 
 of Sigfrid, mythical character 
 
 of the, 86. 
 
 —— of Charlemagne, 109. 
 
 " St. Alexius," legendary poem, 157. 
 
 " St. Brandanus," legendary poem, 
 
 163. 
 " St. Elizabeth," legendary poem, 
 
 160, 228. 
 " St, George," legendary poem, 161. 
 " St. Oswald," legendary poem, 163, 
 
 228. 
 " St. Sylvester," legendary poem, 157. 
 St. Paul, Epistles of, translation of 
 
 the, by Ulfilas, 3. 
 Sails, J. G. de, 471. 
 " Sangerkrleg auf der Wartbu rg," 2 1 4. 
 " San Marte," by Schultz, 1 04. 
 Satire, origin of, 289. 
 
 , proper theme of poetic, 382. 
 
 Satires of Rachel, 326. 
 
 of Goethe, 438. 
 
 Satiric poems of the 16th century, 
 
 276. 
 Satirical writers of the 16th century. 
 
 290. 
 
 18th century, 374, 381. 
 
 " Satyros," by Goethe, 439. 
 
 " Schatz-Kiisilein," by Hebel, 478. 
 Soheffler, 336, 337 n. 
 Schenkendorf, M. von, 514, 515 n. 
 
 Schiller, his tendency to the ideal, 
 
 453. 
 
 , his dramas, 453, 458. 
 
 , French citizenship decreed to, 
 
 457. 
 , Goethe's beneficial influence 
 
 on, 458. 
 , lyric and didactic poems of, 
 
 461. 
 
 , ballads and romances of, 463. 
 
 , dispute as to his superiority 
 
 over Goethe, 465. 
 
 •, contrasted with Goethe, 465. 
 
 , the rationalistic tendency of 
 
 his writings, 466. 
 
 , followers of, 493. 
 
 " Schildbiirger," 304. 
 
 " Schimpf und Ernst," 299. 
 
 Schlegel, J. Ellas, dramas of, 286. f 
 
 , J. Adolf, 379. 
 
 , A. W., 501 n. 
 
 attacks Schiller, 500. 
 
 , Heinrich, 385. 
 
 , Friederich, 501 n. 
 
 Scholastic philosophy, 219. 
 Schools of German poetry, 318. 
 Schbnaich, a partisan of Gottsched, 
 
 370. 
 , his satire on 
 
 Klopstock, 370. 
 Schubert, 470. 
 Schultze, 506. 
 Schupplus, satirist 
 
 preacher, 337, 
 Schwab, 508. 
 
 Schwabe, satires of, 371 ; his perio- 
 dical, 375. 
 " Schweizerlieder," by Lavater, 467. 
 Schwieger, 330. 
 " Seamless Coat of Christ," legend 
 
 of, 163. 
 Seqiienz, an ecclesiastical form of 
 
 poem, 198. 
 Sermons of the 12th and 13th cen- 
 turies, 215. 
 
 of Schupplus, 338. 
 
 of Geiler, 262. 
 
 of Tauler, 260 re. 
 
 Seume, 493. 
 
 " Seven Wise Masters," byBiiheler, 
 
 229. 
 Seusse, chief of the Mystic School, 
 
 259. 
 
 Bodmer and 
 
 court- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 529 
 
 " Ship of Fools," satirical poem by 
 
 Brant, 291. 
 " Siegwart," by Miller, 480. 
 " Sigenot," Old German epic, 38. 
 Sigfrid, hero of the Lower Rhenish 
 
 sagas, 41. 
 
 and the Dragon, legend of, 60. 
 
 Sigfridsbrunnen, 86 n. 
 :-Silesian school of poetry, 318. 
 second school of poetry, causes 
 
 of its decay, 339. 
 Simrock, 508. 
 
 " Simpson," romance by Zesen, S53. 
 Societies for improving the German 
 
 language, 316. 
 " Solomon and Morolf," 179. 
 " Song of Roland," 29. 
 Song staves, 15. 
 
 " Sonntag's Friihe," by Hebel, 478. 
 South Germany the home of the 
 
 earliest German classic poetry, SO. 
 Spee, F. von, 334. 
 Spervogel, specimen of his Minne- 
 
 poetry, 204. 
 Spiritual existence represented by 
 
 the " Gral," 125. 
 Stagemann, 421. 
 Stilling, 467 n. 
 " Stimmen der Vblker in Liedern," 
 
 by Herder, 427. 
 Stolberg, precursor of the Romantic 
 
 School, 475. 
 StoUen, a division of the strophe, 
 
 198. 
 Strieker, 116, 181, 190. 
 Storm and impulse period of German 
 
 literature, 422, 493. 
 Strasburg, G. von, 134. 
 
 , beautiful hymn by, 204. 
 
 contrasted with Wolfram, 135. 
 
 , immorality of his writings, 135. 
 
 much imitated, 138, 
 
 , compared with Wieland, 412. 
 
 Strophe, a form used in Minne-poetry, 
 
 198. 
 
 , threefold division of the, 198. 
 
 , form of, in use in the 15th 
 
 century, 224. 
 " Sturm und Drang," drama, by 
 
 Klinger, 422, 494. 
 Superstitions of the ancient Germans 
 
 as to animals, 185. 
 Siisskind, a Jewish Minne-singer,'J0O. 
 
 T. 
 
 Tdbulatur, name given to the strict 
 
 rules of Meistergesang, 237. 
 Tacitus, ancient German songs men- 
 tioned by, 4. 
 , characteristic of the Germans 
 
 noticed by, 14. 
 , his story of Ulysses and Laertes 
 
 explained, 164. 
 Talander, 358. 
 " Tasso," Goethe's, 441. 
 Tauler, 259, 260 n. 
 Templars, Knights, 119. 
 Theological writings of the 12th 
 
 and 13th centuries, 215. 
 Theology, mystic, 259. 
 " Theuerdank," poem, composed by 
 
 the Emperor Maximilian, 231. 
 Thummel, 487. 
 Tieck, his novels and romances, 502, 
 
 503 n. 
 Tiedge, 420. 
 
 " Titurel," art-epic, 108, 133. 
 " Tbffel im Paradiese," 1 84. 
 Trade not congenial to poetry, 218. 
 Tragedy, 256. 
 "Traugemundslied," the riddle-poem, 
 
 249. 
 " Traurige Geschichten," romance by 
 
 De Rosset, 352. 
 — , translated by Zeiller, 353. 
 Triller, 343. 
 
 Tripartite strophe, 37, 198. 
 " Tristan and Isolt," art-epic, 108, 
 
 135. 
 
 , its prejudicial tendency, 137. 
 
 " Trojan war," art-epic, 108, 142. 
 " Trost in Thriinen," lyric by Goethe, 
 
 432. 
 « Trostgedichte," by Opitz, 320. 
 Troy, German legends of, not derived 
 
 from Homer, 142. 
 " Trutz-Nachtigall," by Von Spee, 
 
 335. 
 Tiirlieim, U. von 137. 
 
 U. 
 
 " Ugalino," by Gerstenbcrg, 469. 
 Uhland, 508. " 
 
 Ulfiias, translation of the Bible ii^to 
 Gothic, by, 2. 
 A 
 
530 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Ulfilas, Codex Argenteus, his MS. 
 
 of the Gospels, 3. 
 ■ , his translation of St. Paul's 
 
 Epistles, 3. 
 Ulrich von Eschenbaeh, 143. 
 Undine, by Fouqu6, 505. 
 
 , whence derived, 230. 
 
 Unity of poetry with actual life the 
 
 fundamental idea of the Romantic 
 
 School, 498. 
 Upper Saxony the fatherland of 
 
 German poetry, 344. 
 " Uranie," by Tiedge, 420. 
 Usteri, 477. 
 Uz, poet of the Halle group, 417. 
 
 V. 
 
 " Vatermb'rder," by Schubart, 470. 
 
 Veldekin, the father of the Middle- 
 High- German poetry, 28. 
 
 , his poem of JEneas, 147. 
 
 , characteristics of his writings, 
 
 148. 
 
 , Minne-poetry in perfection in 
 
 his time, 201. 
 
 compared with Klopstock, 391. 
 
 VersiBcation, progress of, in 15th 
 century, 223. 
 
 , change in form of in 17th 
 
 century, 316, 
 
 Virgin Mary, song in honour of, 1 53. 
 
 Volksbiicher, 299, 301, 306. 
 
 Volkslied, popular lay, 195, 239. 
 
 , transition of Minne-poetry to 
 
 the, 246. 
 
 becomes extinct in 16th cen- 
 tury, 282. 
 
 Volkslieder, origin of, 240. 
 
 , their power, 242. 
 
 brought into notice by Herder 
 
 and Goethe, 244. 
 
 , collections of, 245. 
 
 " Vom gemeinen Leben," by Hein- 
 rich, 191. 
 
 " Von des Todes Gehugede," 191. 
 
 " Von Deutseher Art und Kunst," by 
 Herder, 426. 
 
 Voss, 472, 475. 
 
 , poems and Idyls of, 476. 
 
 , various imitators of, 477. 
 
 W. 
 
 Wachterlied, a popular form of 
 
 Minne-poetry, 205. 
 Wackernagel, 509. 
 Wagner, Ernst, 493. 
 
 , Leopold, 496. 
 
 " Wahrheit und Dichtung," by 
 
 Goethe, 448. 
 " Wahlverwandtschaften,"by Goethe, 
 
 448. 
 Waldis, 278, 279 n, 282. 
 " Wallenstein," Schiller's, 458. 
 " Walther von Wasichenstein," Old 
 
 German epic, 38. 
 " Walter of Acquitaine," Latin trans- 
 lation of the ancient German poem 
 
 of, II. 
 , hero of the Burgundian sagas, 
 
 43. 
 " Wandering Jew," saga of the, 
 
 306. 
 Water poets, 343. 
 Weckherlin, 336. » 
 " Weinschweig," a Minne-poem, 247. 
 Weise, 339, 343. 
 Weisse, a satirist, 387. 
 
 , works of, 388—390. 
 
 , his facility of composition, 
 
 390. 
 " Welsche Gast," satiric poem by 
 
 Zirklaere, 193. 
 " Welsh Romances," by Lady Guest, 
 
 140. 
 " Weltchronik," by von Ems, 1 68. 
 Weltliohe Volkslied, a kind of lyric 
 
 poetry, 238. 
 " Wendenmut." jest-book by Kirchof, 
 
 301. 
 " Wenzel von Erfiirt," the last of the 
 
 Robinsonades, 360. 
 Werner, Zacharias, 512, 513 n. 
 Werner der Gartner, 176. 
 Werner von Tegernsee, 153, 204. 
 Wernicke, epigrams of, 346, 
 , his contest with Postel and 
 
 Hnnold, 347. 
 " Werther," Goethe's, 436. 
 " Wessobrunner Gebet," a sacred 
 
 poem, 21. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 531 
 
 Wieland, the immorality of his 
 writings, 408. 
 
 , the form of his writings, 409. 
 
 ■, instability of his character, 4 1 0. 
 
 compared to Gottfried, 412. 
 
 , his followers, 486. 
 
 " Wigalois," an art-epic, 108, 140. 
 
 "Wigamur or der Ritter mit dem 
 Adler," 141. 
 
 " Wilhelm Meister," Goethe's, 447. 
 
 " Wilhelm Tell," Schiller's, 461. 
 
 " Wilhelm von Dourlens," by von 
 Ems, 175. 
 
 " Wilhelm von Oranse," art-epic, 
 107, 116. 
 
 " Winsbeke," 1 94. 
 
 "Winsbekin," 194. 
 
 Wolfram von Eschenbach, 124. 
 
 , his poem " Parcival," 125. 
 
 , his poem " Titurel," 1 33. 
 
 , his style compared with Gott- 
 fried's, 135. 
 
 , his Minne-songs, 205. 
 
 , a Meister-singer, 237. 
 
 Worldly life, the fable of Arthur, a 
 type of, 1 25. 
 
 "Wunderhorn,"acollectionof Volks- 
 
 lieder, 245. 
 , of Arnim and Brentano, 594, 
 
 Y. 
 
 " Younger Titurel," 133. 
 " Young's Night Thoughts " trans- 
 lated by Ebert, 315. 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zacharia, 191, 382, 416. 
 
 Zedliti, 510. 
 
 Zesen, Philip von, his works, 330, 
 
 331 n. 
 
 , his absurdities, 330. 
 
 one of the earliest romance 
 
 writers, 353. 
 
 , eccentricities of his style, 354. 
 
 Zinkgraf, one of the Silesian School, 
 
 328. 
 " Zwillinge," tragedy by Klinger, 
 
 481, 494. 
 
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