that enjoyed by Neuchatel, under Frederick the Great (1740-1786). This
state had of its own free will in 1707 accepted the ducal sway of the
kings of Prussia, in order to escape the grasp of Louis XIV. At one
time, however, Frederick II. so far forgot himself as to infringe the
"states'" right of taxation, and the semi-republican duchy at once rose
in rebellion. Gaudot, the vice-governor, Frederick's devoted minister,
was shot in the fray (1768). Yet, thanks to the monarch's wise
moderation, and the intervention of the Swiss Confederation, the storm
was calmed, and Neuchatel continued in her peaceful and happy condition.
It is clear that there was in Switzerland plenty of combustible matter,
needing only the French Revolution to raise a conflagration.
FOOTNOTES:
[73] The unrighteous and cruel Landvogt Tscharner was punished with
death by the Bernese Government in 1612.
[74] For further particulars about this original man the reader is
referred to the charming novel bearing his name, by Keller (Keller's
"Zurcher Novellen").
[75] Madame de la Charriere, the novelist, writes: "Nous vivons avec
eux, nous leur plaisons, quelquefois nous les formons, et ils nous
gatent."
[76] The Bernese peasantry had attained unusual wealth by its excellent
management and the strict administration of its government.
[77] Prof. Voegelin, "Schweizergeschichte," p. 344.
[78] See "Die Patrizierin," a recent fascinating novel by Widmann, a
Bernese writer.
XXVIII.
SWITZERLAND AND THE RENAISSANCE. INFLUENCE OF VOLTAIRE AND ROUSSEAU.
Barren and uninviting is the waste of politics in Switzerland at this
period of our story, and it seemed as if the republic was quietly
crumbling out of active existence. But the literary and scientific
renaissance runs through it all like a fertilizing stream, and saves it
from utter sterility. Feeble though it was politically, Switzerland yet
produced on all sides men of mark in science, in literature, in
philosophy. Time would fail to tell of them all, and we must be content
to follow briefly the three great currents of the movement, which
centred respectively around Geneva, Zurich, and the Helvetic Society.
The two former of these may indeed be said to form a part (and an
important part) of the great general awakening of the eighteenth
century, an awakening beginning with the French "period of
enlightenment," and crowned by the era of German classicism. Yet the
French movement itself was based on English influence. Just as, at the
Restoration, England had copied the France of Louis Quatorze, so France
in return drew intellectual strength from the England of the second half
of the eighteenth century--England was then vastly ahead of the
Continent--and brought forth the "_siecle de la philosophie_." Of the
great Frenchmen who learned in the school of English thought,
Montesquieu, Rousseau, and Voltaire stand foremost, and of these again
Voltaire occupies indisputably the highest place. Voltaire was not only
the founder, but the very heart of the philosophic school which reared
its front against the statutes and traditions and pretensions of the
Church. He had drunk deeply of the spirit of Newton and of Locke during
his exile in England, and spread abroad their views and discoveries,
assisted by his genius, his sparkling wit, his lashing satire, and his
graceful style. None equally with him naturalized on the Continent
English free thought and English rationalism. Voltaire and Rousseau were
as two great beacons planted in the century guiding as they would the
course of philosophy. Both were champions of personal freedom and
religious tolerance in a benighted and down-trodden age. But the
influence of the two men worked in very different ways, for in the one
it was based on the head, in the other on the heart. Voltaire, the
realist, by his venomous and even reckless satires on the Church and on
Christianity, dealt a severe blow to religion at large. Rousseau, the
idealist, plunged into the mystery of good and evil, and was wrecked by
the very impracticability of his system.
Voltaire, as is well known, spent the last twenty years of his life--his
"_verte vieillesse_"--almost at the gates of Geneva, and Rousseau,
actually one of its citizens, passed the greater part of his life
wandering abroad, though he loved Geneva so dearly that he once fainted
with emotion on leaving it. Yet while both did battle so to speak from
Geneva, neither of them was reckoned as a prophet in that city. After
Voltaire had spent a couple of years at "Les Delices"--this was
subsequent to his break with the great Frederick--he bought Tournay and
Ferney, close to Geneva, to "keep aloof from monarchs and bishops, of
whom he was afraid." Ferney, with its _parc a la Versailles_, and its
fine castle, he made his residence; and there his niece did the honours
of the house to the countless visitors who came from all parts to do
homage to the illustrious "Aubergiste del' Europe," as he pleasantly
styled himself. It was not the salons of Ferney that induced him to
reside there, but care for his health and a wish to be free from all
fear of bastilles.
Geneva was not inclined to bow in admiration before her famous
neighbour, as has been already stated. She had by this time become a
great intellectual centre. Men of science, naturalists, and philosophers
there congregated, and a reaction against the everlasting study of
theology, of which the fashion had been introduced by the Huguenot
refugees, having come about, the study of nature had taken its place.
Whilst France was being governed by the Pompadours, Geneva was ruled by
a society of savants, inclined, it is true, to absolutism and narrow
Calvinism, but still savants. It is a common error to suppose that
Voltaire's influence took deep root in Geneva. Voltaire set the current
running for the world at large indeed, but Geneva was not specially
affected. In truth, most of her learned men were disinclined to do more
than follow Voltaire half way, as it were, into his philosophy, whilst
some of them, as, for instance, Charles Bonnet, were particularly narrow
in their views, and were even heretic hunters.[79] Voltaire's contest
with the city authorities respecting the establishing of a theatre is a
good illustration of his want of real authority and influence there. It
greatly tickled his fancy to seduce the "pedantic city still holding to
her old reformers, and submitting to the tyrannical laws of Calvin" from
the ancient path, and to make war on her orthodoxy. And as part of his
plan he determined to introduce theatrical performances into the city.
The ball was set rolling by an article in the "Encyclopedie" by
D'Alembert, but the arguments there adduced in favour of the theatre
proved of no avail. Rousseau made a furious reply, and averred that a
theatre was injurious to the morals of a small town. In a large city,
where the morals were already corrupt, it did not signify. The
Consistoire was in a flutter, for it had pretended that the Genevans had
a prodigious love for light amusements. However, one day Voltaire
invited the city authorities to "Les Delices," and there treated them to
a representation of his "Zaire," and it was no little triumph to the
wily old schemer that his audience were overcome with emotion. "We have
moved to tears almost the whole council--Consistory and magistrates; I
have never seen more tears," he delightedly reports; "never have the
Calvinists been more tender! God be blessed! I have corrupted Geneva and
the Republic." Nevertheless he was not to triumph. The theatre at "Les
Delices" had to be closed. He opened his theatre several times elsewhere
in Genevan territory, and began to draw crowds, but in every instance
was compelled to close again. In truth, it was not till 1766 that Geneva
had a theatre of its own, and even then it lasted but two years. The
building was set on fire by some Puritans, and, being only of wood, was
rapidly consumed. Crowds ran to the conflagration, but finding that it
was only the theatre that was on fire, they emptied their buckets,
shouting, "Let those who wanted a theatre put out the fire!"
"_Perruques_ or _tignasses_," exclaimed Voltaire, with irritation, "it
is all the same with Geneva. If you think you have caught her, she
escapes."
Rousseau (1712-1778) was the son of a Genevan watchmaker, and received
but a very desultory education in his early days. Whilst yet but a boy
he had drunk in the republican and Calvinistic spirit of his native
town, hence his democratic leanings. He was a lover of nature, and fond
of solitude, and was possessed of a deep religious feeling, even though
his religion was based on sentiment. He witnessed the revolt of 1735-37,
and, _enfant du peuple_ as he was, rebelled against the tyranny of the
patricians, and gave vent to his indignation in his writings. He thus
became the mouthpiece of a down-trodden people craving for liberty, of a
society satiated with culture. His prize essay on "Arts and Sciences" is
an answer in the negative to the question propounded by the Dijon
Academy, Whether the New Learning had resulted in an improvement to
morals. His next essay on "L'origine et les fondements de l'inegalite"
is a sally against the state of society. In it he advocates a return to
the condition of nature, on which Voltaire sarcastically retorted, "I
felt a great desire to go on all fours." "Emile" (1762), which Goethe
calls the "gospel of education," declares against the hollowness of our
distorted and over-refined civilization, and advocates a more rational
training based on nature. And Pestalozzi, pedagogue and philanthropist,
though he styled "Emile" a "book of dreams," was yet nourished on
Rousseau's ideas. "Emile" is opposed to deism and materialism on the one
hand, whilst on the other it objects to revelation and miracles, and
declares that existing religion is one-sided and unable to save mankind
from intellectual slavery. The excitement the book created was immense
on both sides, and it was publicly burnt both at Paris and Geneva. Its
author was compelled to flee.
[Illustration: ROUSSEAU.]
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF PESTALOZZI.
(_From a photograph of the statue, at Yverdon, by Lanz._)]
A similar untoward fate befel the same author's famous "Contrat Social,"
perhaps the most important political work of the eighteenth century. In
this Rousseau advances much further than Montesquieu. Indeed the former
was a strong Radical, whilst the latter might be more fittingly
described as a Whig. Rousseau advocates republicanism, or rather a
democracy, as the best form of government; whilst Montesquieu points to
the constitutional government of England as his model, insisting on the
right to equality of all before the law. The "Contrat Social," as is
well known, did much to advance the revolutionary cause, and became
indeed the textbook of the democracy, and formed the principal basis of
the Constitution of 1793. But Rousseau himself was no agitator. On the
contrary, when the burghers of Geneva rose on his behalf, to save
"Emile" and the "Contrat" from the flames, he hesitated hardly a moment,
but begged them to submit to order, as he disliked disorder and
bloodshed.
His novel, "La Nouvelle Heloise" (1761), introduced the romantic
element, and opened a new era in literature. It was, in fact, a
manifesto against a bewigged and bepowdered civilization. Poetry was
invited to withdraw from the salons and come once more to live with
nature. But this sudden onslaught on the stiff conventionalism and
narrowness of the time was too much, and there ensued an outburst of
excitement and feeling such as we in our day can scarcely realize. A
great stream of sentiment poured into literature, and gave rise to that
tumultuous "storm and stress" (_Sturm und Drang_) period in Germany, out
of which sprang Schiller's "Raeuber" (Robbers). Goethe caught up the
prevailing tone of sentimentality and supersensitiveness in his
"Werther" (1774). This tearful, boisterous period is but the outrush of
a nation's pent-up feelings on its sudden emancipation from the thraldom
of conventionalism. And it led the way to the golden era in German
literature, the era of Schiller and Goethe.
The brilliant literary court of Madame de Stael at Coppet succeeded that
of Voltaire at Ferney. Though born in Geneva she was in heart a
Frenchwoman, and her native country but little affected her character.
"I would rather go miles to hear a clever man talk than open the windows
of my rooms at Naples to see the beauties of the Gulf," is a
characteristic speech of hers. Yet amongst women-writers Madame de Stael
is perhaps the most generous, the most lofty, and the grandest figure.
Her spirited opposition to Napoleon, her exile, her brilliant _coterie_
at Coppet, and her famous literary productions, are topics of the
greatest interest, but as they do not specially concern Switzerland,
they cannot be more than hinted at here.
[Illustration: HALLER.]
From the very depression, political and social, prevailing in Swiss
lands arose the yearning for and proficiency in letters and scientific
culture which in the period now before us produced so prolific a
literature in the country. And it was not in West Switzerland alone
that this revival of letters showed itself. Basel prided herself on her
naturalists and mathematicians, Merian, Bernoulli, and Euler; while
Zurich could boast of her botanists, Scheuchzer and John Gessner. Bern
produced that most distinguished naturalist, Haller, who was also a
poet; Schaffhausen claims Johannes von Mueller, the brilliant historian;
and Brugg (Aargau) Zimmermann, philosopher and royal physician at
Hanover. Bodmer and Breitinger formed an aesthetic critical forum at
Zurich. And no country of similar area had so many of its sons occupying
positions of honour in foreign universities. A whole colony of Swiss
savants had settled at Berlin, drawn thither by the great Frederick;
others were to be found at Halle. Haller, who had lived at Goettingen
ever since 1736, likewise received an invitation from Frederick, but
found himself unable to accept it, being greatly averse to Voltaire and
his influence. A perfect stream of Swiss intellect poured into Germany,
and by its southern originality, greater power of expression, and its
true German instinct, quickened German nationality, and witnesses to the
fact that there is ever passing between the two countries an
intellectual current.[80] It is impossible within the limits of the
present volume to do more than touch upon the most characteristic
literary movements of the period.
Amongst the upper classes in Switzerland, French culture reigned
supreme, just as did French fashions, French manners, and it may almost
be said, the French language. Nevertheless, the Swiss were the first to
throw off the French supremacy in literature, turning rather to England
as a more congenial guide and pattern. Bodmer speaks of Shakespeare and
Milton "as the highest manifestations of Germanic genius." As for German
literature itself, it was still in a state of helplessness--what with
the Thirty Years' War, and the German nobility given over to French
tastes and French influence--and fashioned itself in foreign modes till
the close of the Seven Years' War, in 1763, when it took the leading
position it has ever since maintained.
Bern and Zurich, which had both risen to wealth and independence, were
stout opponents of the French policy. Both cities were homes of the
_belles lettres_, and Zurich was a veritable "poets' corner." The chief
figure there was Bodmer, who wielded the literary sceptre in Switzerland
and Germany for well-nigh half a century. A fellow-worker with him, and
his well-nigh inseparable companion, was Breitinger, and these two more
than any others helped to break the French spell. Bodmer (1698-1783),
was the son of a pastor of Greifensee, and had himself been at first
destined for the church, though he was at length put to the silk trade.
But neither calling could keep him from his beloved letters, and in 1725
he became professor of history and political science at the Zurich
Carolinum. His aim was to raise literature from its lifeless condition.
As far back as 1721, he had joined with Breitinger and others, in
establishing a weekly journal on the model of Addison's
_Spectator_--"Discurse der Maler." Breitinger was professor of Hebrew,
and later on, canon of the minster of Zurich, and was a man of profound
learning and refined taste. The new paper treated not only of social
matters, but discussed poetry and _belles lettres_ generally. Gottsched
(1700-1766), who occupied the chair of rhetoric at Leipzig, was supreme
as a literary critic. His tastes were French, and he held up the French
classics as models. In his "Critical Art of Poetry" (1730), he tries to
teach what may be called the _mechanics_ of poetry based on reason, and
pretends that it is in the power of any really clever man to produce
masterpieces in poetry. In 1732, appeared Bodmer's translation of
"Paradise Lost," to the chagrin of Gottsched, who, feeling that he was
losing ground, furiously attacked the Miltonian following. His mockery
of the blind poet roused Bodmer's anger, and he replied with his work
the "Wonderful in Poetry." A fierce controversy raged for ten years. In
the name of Milton the young men of talent took the side of Zurich, that
is, of the German, as opposed to the French influence in literature. The
result was that by the efforts of such men as Haller, Klopstock,
Wieland, and Kleist, the French influence was ousted and the national
German influence came to the front.
Albrecht von Haller (1708-1777), whom Goethe calls "the father of
national poetry," was the first representative of the new school of
poets which began to turn to nature for inspiration and illustration
rather than to mere dead forms. His poems on the Alps (1732) paint the
majestic beauty of the Bernese highlands, and contrast the humble and
peaceful but natural life of the shepherd with the luxurious and
artificial life of the patrician, and the dweller in cities. Haller's
writings made a great impression on the polite world.[81] Klopstock it
was, however, whom Bodmer welcomed as the harbinger of a new era, as the
German Milton. Klopstock had been trained in the Swiss school of
thought, and regarded Breitinger's "Critical Art" as his aesthetic bible,
whilst Bodmer's translation of "Paradise Lost" inspired his epic,
"Messiah." The first three cantos appeared in the "Bremer Beitraege" in
1748, and created such a _furore_ that he was declared to be an immortal
poet. Wieland's first poems were, in 1751, published in the "Swiss
Critic," and met with a reception hardly less favourable if somewhat
less enthusiastic. A strong friendship springing up between Bodmer and
the young Klopstock, the former offered the poet a temporary home at his
Tusculum (still standing) on the slopes of Zurichberg, that he might go
on with his great epic. The fine view of the lake and mountains, the
"highly cultivated city beneath," was greatly prized by Goethe who
sounds its praises in "Wahrheit und Dichtung." However, Bodmer was
disappointed with his young guest, for Klopstock loved the society of
the young men and young women of his own age, and the progress made with
the "Messiah" was well-nigh _nil_. However, it is to Klopstock's sojourn
there, that we owe some of his fine odes, especially that on Zurich
lake. But meanwhile Bodmer's friendship had cooled, and Klopstock went
to the house (in Zurich itself) of Hartmann Rahn, who later on married
the poet's sister. With this same Rahn was some years afterwards
associated the philosopher Fichte, when he lived at Zurich (1788).
Fichte in fact married Rahn's daughter, Johanna. In 1752, Wieland[82]
repaid Bodmer for his previous disappointments, by staying with him for
some two years.
Bodmer's zeal for the advance of literature was unremitting. Though he
could not himself boast of much poetic genius, he was a prolific writer
in both prose and verse. His great merit is his bringing to light again
the fine old mediaeval poetry long since forgotten. The manuscript of the
"Minnesaenger" and the famous "Nibelungen" he had dug up from the
lumber-room of Hohenems Castle. He moved heaven and earth to obtain
royal protection and patronage for German literature. But little did he
gain at the court of the great Frederick. To Mueller, who presented the
"Nibelungen," his majesty replied in characteristic fashion that the
piece was not worth a single "charge of powder." Not less characteristic
was Voltaire's reply when a request was made for the royal favour to
Klopstock. "A new 'Messiah' is too much of a good thing, the old one has
not been read yet."
Bodmer's influence on the young man of parts is noticeable. He gathered
round him a large following of young Zuercher who had a taste for
letters. Crowds of them would accompany him in his evening walks in the
avenue Platzspitz, drinking in his words of wit and wisdom. Of the
disciples thus gathered round "Father" Bodmer--for so he was
affectionately styled--some attained no little eminence in later life.
Amongst them we may mention Sulzer, who became art professor at Berlin,
and stood in high favour with the king; and Solomon Gessner, the painter
poet, whose word pictures are hardly less beautiful than the productions
of his brush. His "Idylls," published in 1756, gave him a European
reputation. The work was translated into all the literary languages, and
in France and Italy was read with great eagerness, a first edition in
French being sold out within a fortnight. Another important work is
Hirzel's "Kleinjogg," or the "Socrates of the Fields." In this Hirzel,
who was a physician and a philanthropist, brings to the fore the
despised peasantry. "Kleinjogg" is not a work of fiction solely, but an
account of Jakob Gujer who lived in a small Zurich village. Jakob was a
man of great intelligence, indomitable resolution, and practical wisdom,
who by his admirable management raised a wretched country home into a
model farm. Goethe, who on a visit ate at his table, was delighted with
the philosophic peasant, and called him "one of the most delicious
creatures earth ever produced."
Heinrich Pestalozzi, the philanthropist, but better known for his
efforts in the cause of education, was also a Zurich man. His principles
of education are embodied in his novel of rural life, "Lienhard and
Gertrude" (1781). His ideas are partly borrowed from Rousseau, but he
failed to realize them in practice. The work at once won for Pestalozzi
European fame. Ludwig Meyer von Knonau, a country magnate, was a poet
and a painter, and wrote "Fables." Johannes Casper Lavater, Bodmer's
favourite pupil, stirred to their depth the patriotic feelings of his
countrymen by his famous "Schweizerlieder," which he composed for the
Helvetic Society, in 1767. Indeed literary tastes seem to have been very
prevalent amongst the Swiss at that time. More of Winkelmann's great
work on AEsthetics were sold in Zurich and Basel then would in our own
day probably be sold in such cities as Berlin and Vienna. And Solothurn,
we find, produced thrice as many subscribers to Goethe's works as the
great cities just mentioned.
[Illustration: LAVATER.]
After Bodmer Lavater became the chief attraction at Zurich, and
strangers flocked thither in great numbers to see him. He was the
founder of the study of physiognomy, and his works on it were very
largely read at the time. Goethe himself joined with Lavater in his
"Essays on Physiognomy." The philosopher's personality being singularly
charming and fascinating, he was one of the most influential men of his
time. He was the pastor of St. Peter's church, and was full of high
religious enthusiasm. He desired to take Christianity from its lifeless
condition and make it a living thing, and was strongly opposed to
rationalism--Anglo-French deism--then slowly creeping in,
notwithstanding severe repressive measures against it. Goethe was for
many years the close friend of Lavater, and carried on with him a
brilliant correspondence. The great poet, it may be stated, paid no
fewer than three visits to Zurich, viz., in 1775, 1779, and 1797. He
considered his intercourse with Lavater the "seal and crown" of the
whole trip to Switzerland in 1779, and calls the divine the "crown of
mankind," "the best among the best," and compares his friendship with
"pastureland on heaven's border." Lavater's later years were marked by
many eccentricities, and he fell into religious mysticism. But his
sterling merits will not readily be forgotten by the Swiss.