little essays, all of which being composed in one spirit, form together
a perfect whole, is the very intimate knowledge they display of the
whole civil state of man. We see a system resting upon the past,
and still in vigorous existence. On the one hand there is a firm
adherence to tradition, on the other, movement and change which cannot
be prevented. Here alarm is felt at a useful novelty, there pleasure
in what is new, although it be useless, or even injurious. With what
freedom from prejudice the author explains the relative position
of different ranks, and the connexion in which cities, towns, and
villages mutually stand! We learn their prerogatives, together with
the legal grounds of them; we are told where the main capital of the
state is invested, and what interest it yields. We see property and its
advantages on the one hand, on the other, taxes and disadvantages of
various kinds; and then the numerous branches of industry; and in all
this past and present times are contrasted.
Osnaburg, as a member of the Hanseatic League, we are told, had in the
earlier periods an extensive and active commerce. According to the
circumstances of those times, it had a remarkable and fine situation;
it could receive the produce of the country, and was not too far
removed from the sea to transport it in its own ships. But now, in
later times, it lies deep in the interior, and is gradually removed and
shut out from the sea trade. How this has occurred, is explained in all
its bearings. The conflict between England and the coasts, and of the
havens with the interior, is mentioned; here are set forth the great
advantages of those who live on the sea-side, and deliberate plans are
proposed for enabling the inhabitants of the interior to obtain similar
advantages. We then learn a great deal about trades and handicrafts,
and how these have been outstripped by manufactures, and undermined by
shop-keeping; decline is pointed out as the result of various causes,
and this result, in its turn, as the cause of a further decline, in an
endless circle, which it is difficult to unravel; yet it is so clearly
set forth by the vigilant citizen, that one fancies one can see the way
to escape from it. The author throughout displays the clearest insight
into the most minute circumstances. His proposals, his counsel--nothing
is drawn from the air, and yet they are often impracticable; on
which account he calls his collection "patriotic fancies," although
everything in it is based on the actual and the possible.
[Side-note: Justus Moeser.]
But as everything in public life is influenced by domestic condition,
this especially engages his attention. As objects both of his serious
and sportive reflections, we find the changes in manners and customs,
dress, diet, domestic life, and education. It would be necessary to
indicate everything which exists in the civil and social world, to
exhaust the list of subjects which he discusses. And his treatment
of them is admirable. A thorough man of business discourses with the
people in weekly papers, respecting whatever a wise and beneficent
government undertakes or carries out, that he may bring it to
their comprehension in its true light. This is by no means done in
a learned manner, but in those varied forms which may be called
poetic, and which, in the best sense of the word, must certainly be
considered rhetorical. He is always elevated above his subject, and
understands how to give a cheerful view of the most serious subjects;
now half-concealed behind this or that mask, now speaking in his own
person, always complete and exhausting his subject,--at the same
time always in good humour; more or less ironical, thoroughly to the
purpose, honest, well-meaning, sometimes rough and vehement;--and all
this so well regulated, that the spirit, understanding, facility,
skill, taste, and character of the author cannot but be admired. In the
choice of subjects of general utility, deep insight, enlarged views,
happy treatment, profound yet cheerful humour, I know no one to whom I
can compare him but Franklin.
Such a man had an imposing effect upon us, and greatly influenced a
youthful generation, which demanded something sound, and stood ready
to appreciate it. We thought we could adapt ourselves to the form of
his exposition; but who could hope to make himself master of so rich
an entertainment, and to handle the most unmanageable subjects with so
much ease?
But this is our purest and sweetest illusion--one which we cannot
resign, however much pain it may cause us through life--that we would,
where possible, appropriate to ourselves, nay, even reproduce and
exhibit as our own, that which we prize and honour in others.
END OF THE THIRTEENTH BOOK
[1] The post, managed by the princes of Thurn and Taxis, in different
parts of Germany. An ancestor of this house first directed the post
system in Tyrol, in 1450, and Alexander Ferdinand von Thurn received,
in 1744, the office of Imperial Postmaster-General, as a fief of the
empire.--_Trans._
[2] "Die lustige person." That is to say, the permanent buffoon, like
"Kasperle" in the German puppet-shows, or "Sganarelle" in Moliere's
broad comedies.--_Trans._
[3] The peasant war, answering to the _Jaquerie_ in France.--_Trans._
[4] _Anglicé_: Make hay when the sun shines.--_Trans._
[5] It is a German peculiarity to apply the word "Schwager"
(brother-in-law) to a position.--_Trans._
[6] "Halbheit," "Halfness"--if there were such a word--would be the
proper expression.--_Trans._
[7] "Nathan the wise," in Lessing's play, founded on Boccacio's tale of
the rings.--_Trans._
FOURTEENTH BOOK.
With the movement which was spreading among the public, now arose
another of greater importance perhaps to the author, as it took place
in his immediate circle.
His early friends who had read, in manuscript, those poetical
compositions which were now creating so much sensation, and therefore
regarded them almost as their own, gloried in a success which they had
boldly enough predicted. This number was augmented by new adherents,
especially by such as felt conscious of a creative power in themselves,
or were desirous of calling one forth and cultivating it.
Among the former, Lenz was the most active and he deported himself
strangely enough. I have already sketched the outward appearance of
this remarkable mortal, and have touched affectionately on his talent
for humor. I will now speak of his character, in its results rather
than descriptively, because it would be impossible to follow him
through the mazy course of his life, and to transfer to these pages a
full exhibition of his peculiarities.
Generally known is that self-torture which in the lack of all outward
grievances, had now become fashionable, and which disturbed the very
best minds. That which gives but a transient pain to ordinary men
who never themselves meditate on that which they seek to banish from
their minds, was, by the better order, acutely observed, regarded,
and recorded in books, letters, and diaries. But now men united
the strictest moral requisitions on themselves and others with an
excessive negligence in action; and vague notions arising from
this half-self-knowledge misled them into the strangest habits and
out-of-the-way practices. But this painful work of self-contemplation
was justified by the rising empirical psychology which, while it was
not exactly willing to pronounce everything that produces inward
disquiet to be wicked and objectionable, still could not give it
an unconditional approval, and thus was originated an eternal and
inappeasable contest. In carrying on, and sustaining this conflict,
Lenz surpassed all the other idlers and dabblers who were occupied in
mining into their own souls, and thus he suffered from the universal
tendency of the times, which was said to have been let loose by
Werther; but a personal peculiarity distinguished him from all the
rest. While they were undeniably frank and honest creatures, he had
a decided inclination to intrigue, and, indeed, to intrigue for its
own sake, without having in view any special object, any reasonable,
attainable, personal object. On the contrary, it was always his custom
to propose to himself something whimsical, which served, for that very
reason, to keep him constantly occupied. In this way all his life long
he was an imposter in his imagination; his love, as well as his hate,
was imaginary; he dealt with his thoughts and feelings in a wilful
manner, so as always to have something to do. He endeavoured to give
reality to his sympathies and antipathies by the most perverse means,
and always himself destroyed his own work. Thus he never benefited any
one whom he loved, and never injured any one whom he hated. In general
he seemed to sin only to punish himself, and to intrigue for no purpose
but to graft a new fable upon an old one.
His talent, in which tenderness, facility, and subtlety rivalled each
other, proceeded from a real depth, from an inexhaustible creative
power, but was thoroughly morbid with all its beauty. Such qualities
are precisely the most difficult to judge. It is impossible to overlook
great features in his works--a lovely tenderness steals along through
pieces of caricature so odd and so silly that they can hardly be
pardoned, even in a humor so thorough and unassuming, and such a
genuine comic talent. His days were made up of mere nothings, to which
his nimble fancy could ever give a meaning, and he was the better able
to squander hours away, since, with a happy memory, the time which he
did employ in reading, was always fruitful, and enriched his original
mode of thought with various materials.
[Side-note: Lenz.]
He had been sent to Strasburg with some Livonian gentlemen, and a more
unfortunate choice of a Mentor could not have been made. The elder
baron went back for a time to his native country, and left behind him a
lady to whom he was tenderly attached. In order to keep at a distance
the second brother, who was paying court to the same lady, as well as
other lovers, and to preserve the precious heart for his absent friend,
Lenz determined either to feign that he had fallen in love with the
beauty, or if you please, actually to do so. He carried through this
plan with the most obstinate adherence to the ideal he had formed of
her, without being aware that he, as well as the others, only served
her for jest and pastime. So much the better for him! For him, too,
it was nothing but a game which could only be kept up by her meeting
him in the same spirit, now attracting him, now repelling him, now
encouraging him, and now slighting him. We may be sure that if he had
become aware of the way the affair sometimes went on, he would, with
great delight, have congratulated himself on the discovery.
As for the rest he, like his pupils, lived mostly with officers of the
garrison, and thus the strange notions he afterwards brought out in
his comedy _Die Soldaten_ (The Soldiers) probably originated. At any
rate, this early acquaintance with military men had on him the peculiar
effect, that he forthwith fancied himself a great judge of military
matters. And yet from time to time he really studied the subject in
detail with such effect, that some years afterward he prepared a long
memorial to the French Minister of War, from which he promised himself
the best results. The faults of the department were tolerably well
pointed out, but on the other hand, the remedies were ridiculous and
impracticable. However, he cherished a conviction that he should by
this means gain great influence at court, and was anything but grateful
to those of his friends who, partly by reasoning, and partly by active
opposition, compelled him to suppress, and afterwards to bum, this
fantastic work, after it had been fair-copied, put under cover with a
letter, and formally addressed.
First of all by word of mouth, and afterwards by letter, he had
confided to me all the mazes of his tortuous movements with regard to
the lady above mentioned. The poetry which he could infuse into the
commonest incidents often astonished me, so that I urged him to employ
his talents in turning the essence of this long-winded adventure to
account, and to make a little romance out of it. But that was not in
his line; he could only succeed when he poured himself out for ever
upon details, and span an endless thread without any purpose. Perhaps
it will be possible at a future time, to deduce from these premises
some account of his life up to tho time that he became a lunatic. At
present I confine myself to what is immediately connected with the
subject in hand.
Hardly had Götz von Berlichingen appeared when Lenz sent me a prolix
essay written on small draught paper, such as he commonly used, without
leaving the least margin, either at the top, the bottom, or the sides.
It was entitled, _Ueber unsere Ehe_, (On our Marriage,) and were it
still in existence, might enlighten us much more now than it then did
me, when I was as yet in the dark as to him and his character. The
leading purpose of this long manuscript was to compare my talent with
his own: now he seemed to make himself inferior to me, now to represent
himself as my equal; but it was all done with such humorous and neat
turns of expression that I gladly received the view he intended to
convey, and all the more so as I did, in fact, rate very high the
gifts he possessed, and was always urging him to concentrate himself
out of his aimless rambling, and to use his natural capacities with
some artistical control. I replied in the most friendly way to this
confidential communication, and as he had encouraged the greatest
intimacy between us, (as the whimsical title indicates,) from that
time forward I made known to him everything I had either finished or
designed. In return he successively sent me his manuscripts: _Der
Hofmeister_, (Private Tutor.) _Der neue Menoza_, (The New Menoza,)
_Die Soldaten_, (The Soldiers,) the imitations of Plautus, and the
translation from the English which I have before spoken of as forming
the supplement to his remarks on the theatre.
While reading the latter, I was somewhat struck to find him in a
laconic preface speaking in such a way as to convey the idea that this
essay, which contained a vehement attack upon the regular theatre, had,
many years before, been read to a society of the friends of literature
at a time, in short, when Götz was not yet written. That there should
have been among Lenz's acquaintances at Strasburg a literary circle of
which I was ignorant seemed somewhat problematical; however I let it
pass, and soon procured publishers for this and his other writings,
without having the least suspicion that he had selected me as the chief
object of his fanciful hatred, and as the mark of an odd and whimsical
persecution.
In passing, I will, for the sake of the sequel, just mention a good
fellow, who, though of no extraordinary gifts, was yet one of our
number. He was called Wagner, and was first a member of our Strasburg
society and then of that at Frankfort--a man not without spirit,
talent, and education. He appeared to be a striving sort of person,
and was therefore welcome. He, too, attached himself to me, and as
I made no secret of my plans, I shewed to him as well as others my
sketch of the Faust, especially the catastrophe of Gretchen. He caught
up the idea and used it for a tragedy, _Die Kindesmörderin_, (The
Infanticide.) It was the first time that any one had stolen from me
any of my plans. It vexed me, though I bore him no ill will on that
account. Since then I have often enough suffered such robberies and
anticipations of my thoughts, and with my dilatoriness and habit
of gossipping about the many things that I was ever planning and
imagining, I had no right to complain.
[Side-note: Klinger.]
If on account of the great effect which contrasts produce, orators
and poets gladly make use of them even at the expense of seeking them
out and bringing them from a distance, it must be the more agreeable
to the present writer that such a decided contrast presents itself,
in his speaking of Klinger after Lenz. They were contemporaries, and
in youth labored together. But Lenz, as a transient meteor, passed
but for a moment over the horizon of German literature, and suddenly
vanished without leaving any trace behind. Klinger, on the other hand,
has maintained his position up to the present time as an author of
influence, and an active man of business. Of him I will now speak, as
far as it is necessary, without following any farther a comparison,
which suggests itself; for it has not been in secret that he has
accomplished so much and exercised so great an influence, but both his
works and his influence are still remembered, far and near, and are
highly esteemed and appreciated.
Klinger's exterior, for I always like best to begin with this, was very
prepossessing. Nature had given him a tall, slender, well-built form,
and regular features. He was careful of his appearance, always dressed
neatly, and might justly have passed for the smartest member of our
little society. His manners were neither forward nor repulsive, and
when not agitated by an inward storm, mild and gentle.
In girls, we love what they are, but in young men what they promise to
be, and thus I was Klinger's friend as soon as I made his acquaintance.
He recommended himself by a pure good nature, and an unmistakeable
decision of character won him confidence. From youth upward, everything
had tended to incline him to seriousness. Together with a beautiful and
excellent sister, he had to provide for a mother, who in her widowhood
had need of such children for her support. He had made himself
everything that he was, so that no one could find fault with a trait of
proud independence which was apparent in his bearing. Strong natural
talents, such as are common to all well-endowed men, a facile power
of apprehension, an excellent memory, and great fluency of speech, he
possessed in a high degree; but he appeared to regard all these as
of less value than the firmness and perseverance which were likewise
innate with him, and which circumstances had abundantly strengthened.
To a young man of such a character, the works of Rousseau were
especially attractive. _Emile_ was his chief text-book, and its
sentiments, as they had an universal influence over the cultivated
world, were peculiarly fruitful with him, and influenced him more
than others. For he too was a child of nature,--he too had worked
his way upwards. What others had been compelled to cast away, he had
never possessed; relations of society from which they would have
to emancipate themselves, had never fettered him. Thus might he be
regarded as one of the purest disciples of that gospel of nature, and
in view of his own persevering efforts and his conduct as a man and
son, he might well exclaim, "All is good as it comes from the hands
of nature!" But the conclusion, "All is corrupted in the hands of
man!" was also forced upon him by adverse experience. It was not with
himself that he had to struggle, but beyond and out of himself with the
conventional world, from whose fetters the Citizen of Geneva designed
to set us free. And as from the circumstances of his youth the struggle
he had to undergo had often been difficult and painful, he had been
driven back upon himself too violently to attain a thoroughly serene
and joyous development. On the contrary, as he had had to force his way
against an opposing world, a trait of bitterness had crept into his
character, which he afterwards in some degree fed and cherished, but
for the most part strove against and conquered.
[Side-note: Klinger.]
His works, as far as I am able to recall them, bespeak a strong
understanding, an upright mind, an active imagination, a ready
perception of the varieties of human nature, and a characteristic
imitation of generic differences. His girls and boys are open and
amiable, his youths ardent, his men plain and intelligent, the
personages whom he paints in an unfavorable light are not overdrawn;
he is not wanting in cheerfulness and good humour, in wit and happy
notions; allegories and symbols are at his command; he can entertain
and please us, and the enjoyment would be still purer if he did not
here and there mar both for himself and us, his gay, pointed jesting by
a touch of bitterness. Yet this it is which makes him what he is. The
modes of living and of writing become as varied as they are, from the
fact that every one wavers theoretically between knowledge and error,
and practically between creation and destruction.
Klinger should be classed with those who have formed themselves for the
world, out of themselves, out of their own souls and understandings.
Because this takes place in and among a greater mass, and because
among themselves they use with power and effect, an intelligible
language flowing out of universal nature and popular peculiarities,
such men always cherish a warm hostility to all forms of the schools,
especially if these forms, separated from their living origin, have
degenerated into phrases, and have thus lost altogether their first,
fresh significance. Such men almost invariably declare war against new
opinions, views, and systems, as well as against new events and rising
men of importance who announce or produce great changes. They are
however not so much to blame on this account; their opposition is not
unnatural when they see all that which they are indebted to for their
own existence and culture menaced with ruin and in great danger.
In an energetic character this adherence to its own views becomes the
more worthy of respect when it has been maintained throughout a life
in the world and in business, and when a mode of dealing with current
events, which to many might seem rough and arbitrary, being employed at
the right time, has led surely to the desired end. This was the case
with Klinger; without pliability (which was never the virtue of the
born citizen of the empire,[1]) he had nevertheless risen, steadily,
and honorably, to posts of great importance, had managed to maintain
his position, and as he advanced in the approbation and favor of his
highest patrons, never forgot his old friends, or the path he had
left behind. Indeed, through all degrees of absence and separation,
he laboured pertinaciously to preserve the most complete constancy
of remembrance, and it certainly deserves to be remarked that in his
coat of arms though adorned by the badges of several orders, he, like
another Willigis, did not disdain to perpetuate the tokens of his early
life.
[Side-note: Lavater.]
It was not long before I formed a connection with Lavater. Passages
of my "Letter of a Pastor to his Colleagues" had greatly struck
him, for much of it agreed perfectly with his own views. With his
never-tiring activity our correspondence soon became lively. At the
time it commenced he was making preparations for his larger work on
Physiognomy,--the introduction to which had already been laid before
the public. He called on all the world to send him drawings and
outlines, and especially representations of Christ; and, although I
could do as good as nothing in this way, he nevertheless insisted on
my sending him a sketch of the Saviour such as I imagined him to look.
Such demands for the impossible gave occasion for jests of many kinds,
for I had no other way of defending myself against his peculiarities
but by bringing forward my own.