You have given me the greatest pleasure, my dear M., by your beautiful
present. Already, last night, I read the new “Greek Songs,” and others
that were new to me, with the greatest delight. We have, at all events,
derived one benefit from the great storm,—that the fetters have been taken
off the press. It is a very charming edition, and a beautiful memorial.
As to F——, it seems to me _contra rei naturam_ to arrange anything with
the “Quarterly Review.” The channel for such things is now really the
“Edinburgh;” in the “Quarterly” everything not English must be run down,
at all events in appearance, if it is to be appreciated. And now “Modern
German Poetry and F——,” and Liberal politics! I cannot understand how F——
could think of such a thing. I will willingly take charge of it for the
“Edinburgh Review.” The editor is my political, theological, personal
friend, and sympathizes with me in such things as I consider F——’s
beautiful review will be. I have for years wished for such a one;
epic-lyric poetry has made much greater advances since Goethe’s time than
people in Germany (with the one exception of Platen) seem to perceive. It
seems to me, though, that one should begin with the flowers of the
Romantic school of poetry, with Schenkendorf and Körner,—that is, with the
whole romantic German national epoch, which found Goethe already a retired
philosopher. The whole development, from that time till now, appears to me
as one intimately united whole, even including the present day. Even 1848
to 1850 have furnished their contribution (Arndt’s two inspired songs, for
instance); and in 1843-44, Geibel shines as a star of the first magnitude.
Heine is difficult to treat. In fact, I do not think that F—— has read
enough of these poets. He spoke to me lately of an historical work that he
had in view, and which he wished to talk over with me; he meant to come up
to me from the country, but has not yet appeared. He is always welcome,
for he is decidedly a man of genius, and I would willingly help him.
Now to something different. My Chinese work is tolerably far advanced. I
have arranged the 214 keys alphabetically, and have examined about 100 of
them historically—that is, I have separated the oldest (entirely
hieroglyphic and ideographic) signs, and as far as possible fixed the
relationship of identical or similarly sounding roots. Then I laid aside
the work, and first began a complete list of all those pronominal,
adverbial, and particle stems, arranged first alphabetically and then
according to matter, in which I found the recognizable corpses of the
oldest Chinese words. The result repays me even far more than I expected.
I hope to have finished both works before Christmas; and at last, too, the
alphabetical examination of the 450 words (of which about 150 are hidden
in the 214 keys; the 64 others are similarly sounding roots). Naturally
all this is only in reference to ancient Chinese, which is at least as
different (grammatically) from modern Chinese as Egyptian is from Coptic.
At the same time, I am reading the translation of the three “Kings,” and
transliterate some passages. And now I must ask you to examine the
inclosed system of transliteration. I have devised it according to my best
powers after yours and Lepsius’ system. Secondly, I want you to tell me
whether I ought to buy the Leipzig translation of Eichhoff’s “Parallèle
des Langues Sanscrites.” My own copy of the French edition has
disappeared. Pauli works at an Index of the Egyptian hieroglyphics and
words, which I can send you by and by.
“The days and times are hard,” says an old song.
[10.]