it, as brisk and bustling as ever. The tradesmen, with the exception
of the publishers, to whom the Revolution has been a godsend, may
not be driving so profitable a business, but the influx of strangers
since the Assembly met has been remarkable. Here Young Germany
flourishes in full unwashed and uncontrolled luxuriance. Every
kind of costume which idiocy can devise is to be met with in the
streets, and the conical parliamentary hat confronts you at every
turn. The bustle of politics has superseded that of commerce, and
the conversation relates far more to democracy than to dollars. The
hotels are still crowded, it being the fashion for members of the
same political views to dine together at the _tables-d'hôte_--so
that the traveller who is not aware of this arrangement may, by
going to one house, find himself a participator in a red republican
banquet; whereas, had he merely crossed the street, he might have
fed with moderate conservatives. My old quarters used to be at the
_Weidenbusch_; but by this time I had become so disgusted with
everything savouring of liberalism that I directed the coachman to
drive to the _Russischer Hof_, where I trusted to find rest and peace
under the protecting shadow of Saint Nicholas.
I was leisurely washing down my evening cutlet with the contents of
a flask of _Liebfrauenmilch_, and wondering whether the pleasant
_cafés_ outside the city gates were still in existence, when a huge
colossus of a man entered the _salle-à-manger_, seated himself
immediately opposite me at table, and demanded a double portion of
_kalbs-braten_. I could not refrain from taking a deliberate view of
the stranger. He appeared to be upwards of sixty, was curiously clad
in duffle, possessed a double, nay, a triple chin, and his small pig
eyes peered out from under their pent-house above a mass of pendulous
and quivering cheek. His stomach, enormous in its development, seemed
to extend from his neck to his knees; his short stubby fingers were
girded with divers seal-rings of solid bullion, and he spoke in the
husky accents of an ogre after too plentiful a repast in the nursery.
As I gazed upon this marked victim for apoplexy, his features
gradually seemed to become familiar to my eyes. I was certain that
I had heard that short asthmatic wheeze, and seen that pendulous
lip before. Strange suspicions crossed my mind, but it was not
until I saw him produce from his pocket a pipe well known to me in
former days, that I felt assured of being in the presence of my old
preceptor the Herr Professor Klingemann.
The worthy man had, in the mean time, honoured me with a reciprocal
survey; but either his eyes had failed him, or his memory was not
so retentive as mine, for he betrayed no symptoms of recognising
his quondam pupil. Much affected, I rose up, extended my hand, and
inquired if he did not know me.
He stared at me in bewilderment until I mentioned my name, and then
suddenly, with a chuckle of delight, he extended his arms, as if to
embrace me across the table--a ceremony which I wisely avoided, as I
have observed that glasses broken in a hotel are invariably charged
at double the original cost. I made the circuit, however, and, after
undergoing the usual hug, and a world of preliminary inquiries, sat
down by the side of my former guide, philosopher, and friend.
Klingemann had always been suspected to be somewhat of a democrat.
He had smoked his way through all the intricate labyrinth of German
philosophy, in search of what he called the universal system of
reconcilement of theory, until his brain became as muddy as the
Compensation Pond which supplies Edinburgh with water. Of course,
as is always the case under such circumstances, he acquired a
corresponding reputation for profundity, and was, by many of his
students, esteemed the leading metaphysician of Europe. If a man
cannot achieve any other kind of character, he has always this in
reserve: if he will make a point of talking unintelligibly, and of
employing words which nobody else understands, he will, in time,
be raised to the level of Kant and Hegel, without giving himself
any extraordinary trouble in the search for fugitive ideas. But the
politics of Klingemann--at least in my university days--never used
to emerge until he had moistened his clay with a certain modicum of
liquid. Then, to be sure, he would descant with almost superhuman
energy upon constitutional and despotic systems. He used to
demonstrate how perfect liberty was attainable by an immediate return
to the noble principles of the Lacedæmonians, whose social code and
black broth he esteemed as the perfection of human sagacity. He also
held in deep respect the patriarchal form of government, and was of
opinion that the soil of the earth belonged to nobody, but ought to
be cultivated in common.
Solomon was right when he averred that there is nothing new under
the sun. The principles of communism, as at present advocated on
the Continent by Messrs Louis Blanc and Prudhon, and in England by
the unfortunate Cuffey, were long ago expounded and practised by
Luckie Buchan and Mr Robert Owen. Let us be just in our movement, and
pay honour where honour is due. Let those who embrace the creed do
justice to the manes of its founder, and style themselves Buchanites,
in veneration of that estimable woman whose attempted apotheosis has
been so well described by Mr Joseph Train. Professor Klingemann,
with all his erudition, had never heard of Luckie Buchan; but, for
all that, he was completely of her mind. Had his views been openly
promulgated, there can be little doubt that his labours in the
university would have been cut short in a somewhat despotic manner;
but he had sense enough to avoid observation, and never lectured upon
politics except in private, to a select circle of his acolytes.
Such was Klingemann when I knew him first. We had corresponded for
a short while after I left the university, but I soon got tired of
the professor's hazy lucubrations, and undutifully omitted to reply,
which in time produced the desired effect. For years I heard nothing
of him, save on one occasion, when he did me the honour to send me
a copy of his _magnum opus_, entitled "An Essay upon the Ideality,
Perceptiveness, and Ratiocination of Notions," closely printed upon
two thousand mortal pages of dingy paper, with a request that I would
be kind enough to translate and publish it in the English language.
As I bore no spite at the moment against any particular bookseller,
and was by no means covetous of working out my own individual ruin,
I did not think it necessary to comply with this philanthropic
suggestion; and the original of the work is perfectly at the service
of any gentleman who may have the fancy for attaining a European
reputation. Klingemann, I dare say, was disappointed, but he bore no
manner of malice.
"My dear professor," said I, "you are the last man whom I should have
expected to meet in Frankfort. I thought you were far away at the
university, occupied as usual with those sublime works which have
made your name immortal."
"Ah, Augustus, my dear child!" replied the professor with a deep
sigh, "things have strangely altered since you were here last. I
used to think that I was labouring in the sphere of usefulness, by
concentrating into one focus of ever-brilliant illumination the
scattered rays of human idiosyncrasy and idoneousness; but I find now
that, for many years, I have been sending the plummet vainly down the
deep unfathomable chasm of psychology and speculation! _Wass henker!_
what keeps that _schelm_ with my _kalbs-braten_? No, my son; I have
discovered, though late, that I am made for action, and henceforth I
shall devote my energies to the amelioration of the human race."
"As how, my honoured sir? I am somewhat at a loss to understand you."
"By taking an active interest in the affairs of the outer and living
man, as contradistinguished from the internal reflective being. Know,
August Reignold von Dunshunner, that I am a member of the German
parliament!"
"You, my dear professor! Is it possible? And yet why should I doubt?"
continued I, bowing reverently to the illustrious man; "at this
particular crisis, Europe imperatively needs the services of her
master spirits."
"She does," replied the professor, "and Germany requires them in
particular. You see our system was old and antiquated. We were
pressed upon from without, and the dark subtile spirit of the
Metternichian policy spread like a poisonous miasmatical exhalation
over the whole surface of the land. It was time to alter these
things--full time that the most gigantically-gifted and heroical race
of the world should escape from the insidious fetters of a low and
degrading despotism!"
"Pardon me, my dear professor, but so long a time has elapsed since
I left the university, that I can hardly follow the meaning of some
of these very lengthy words. But am I right in addressing you by your
academic title? Do you still retain possession of your chair?"
"Of course," replied Klingemann, with a twinkle of his eye. "I
should like to see any of the princes venture just now to infringe
the rights of the universities! Our noble German youth have been the
first to assert the grand principle of unity, and future ages will
record with triumph their deeds at the barricades of Vienna and of
Berlin."
"And your salary?"
"I draw it still, with compensation for the loss of students."
"That must be a pleasant arrangement!"
"It is. I have left my lectures with a famulus to be read next
winter, in case there should be any class. But, before then, I expect
that Germany will require the active service of its youth."
"Indeed!" said I; "are you then apprehensive of a general European
war?"
The learned man made no reply, being intently occupied with his
victuals. There was silence in the room for about a quarter of an
hour, until the professor, having finished his meal, and mopped up
the last drop of gravy with a morsel of bread which he incontinently
devoured, removed the napkin from his bosom, filled out a tumbler of
Moselle, and thus resumed:--
"Hear me, young man! I always loved you; for, in the midst of a
certain frivolity of disposition, I discerned the traces of a strong
practical enterprising genius. Nay--I am serious. Often, in the
course of the speculations which have been forced upon me, during the
late headlong current of events, have I thought of you in connexion
with the coming destinies of your country. For--do not mistake my
meaning--the avalanche which is now sliding down the mountain, with
terrific velocity, will not stay itself until it reaches the valley.
The rights of the people are not the sole object of the present
movement. The awakening of the great heart of Germany is the mere
prelude to events that will upset monarchies, overthrow thrones, and
shatter society to its deepest foundations, until, by an unerring
law of nature, which provides that light shall emerge from darkness,
order will uprear itself from the shattered elemental chaos, and the
work of social reorganisation be commenced anew. You see my purpose?"
"Why, to say the truth, profoundest of professors, I have not the
slightest glimmering of your drift!"
"You are dull, Herr von Dunshunner!" replied Klingemann, knitting
his brows--"much duller than I could have expected from one who has
attended my lectures. In Britain, you have not yet attained that
point of exalted _rationalismus_, from which alone the true surface
of society can be surveyed. You think, I presume, that your own
present system of government is perfect?"
"If you mean government by Queen, Lords, and Commons, I am clearly
of opinion that it is. But if you mean to ask my impressions of the
present Cabinet, I rather think I should give you a very different
answer."
"You mistake me altogether," replied the professor. "What are you,
in Britain but a heterogeneous mixture of all possible races,
without unity of blood, and sometimes even unity of language? Are
not Celt and Saxon, Dane and Norman, jumbled together in the great
social sphere? And can you expect, out of these warring elements,
ever to produce harmony? No, August Reignold! One great error--the
total disregard of unity of race--has hitherto been the enormous
stumbling-block in the way of human perfection, and it is for the
cure of that error that Germany has arisen from her sleep!"
"And what the deuce--excuse my profanity--do you intend to do?"
"To reunite and reconstitute the nations upon the foundation of unity
of race," replied the professor.
"It would be rather a difficult thing to accomplish in my case,
professor." I replied. "Without raising a multiplepoinding; as we say
in Scotland, I could hardly ascertain to which race I really belong.
My father was a Saxon, my mother a Celt--I have a cross of the Norman
ancestry, and a decided dash of the Dane. It would defy anatomy to
rank me!"
"In cases of admixture," said the professor, lighting his
pipe--"which, be it remarked, are the exceptions, and not the
rule--we are willing to admit the minor test of language. Now,
observe. Western Europe--for we need not complicate ourselves with
the Sclavonic question--may be considered as occupied by four
different races. It is, I believe, quite possible to reduce them to
three, but, in order to avoid controversy, I am willing to take the
higher number. In this way we should have, instead of many separate
states, merely to undertake the arrangement or federalisation of
four distinct races--the Latin, the Teutonic, the Celtic, and
Scandinavian. Each tree should be allowed to grow separately, but all
its branches should be interwoven together, and the result will be a
harmony of system which the world has never yet attained."
"You hold France to be Celtic, I presume, professor?"
"Decidedly. The southern portion has an infusion of Latin, and the
northern of Scandinavian blood; but the preponderance lies with the
Celt."
"And who do you propose should join with France?"
"Three-fourths of Ireland, the Highlands of Scotland, Wales, and the
Basque Provinces."
"So far well.--And England?"
"England is confessedly Saxon; and, as such, the greater portion of
her territory must be annexed to Germany."
"While Northumberland and the Orkney islands are handed over to
Scandinavia! I'll tell you what, professor--you'll excuse my freedom;
but, although I have heard a good deal of nonsense in the course of
my life, this idea of yours is the most preposterous that was ever
started."
"We are acting upon it, however," replied Klingemann; "for it is upon
that principle we are claiming Schleswig from Denmark, and Limburg
from the crown of Holland. But for that principle we should be
clearly wrong, since it is admitted that, in all past time, the Eyder
has been the boundary of Germany. All territorial limits, however,
must yield to unity of race."
"May I ask if there are many members of the German parliament who
favour the same theory?"
"A good many--at least of the left section."
"They must be an enlightened set of legislators! Take my word for
it, professor, you will have enough to do in settling the affairs of
Germany Proper, without meddling with any of your neighbours."
"It must be owned," said the professor, "that we still require a good
deal of internal arrangement. We have our fleet to build."
"A fleet!--what can you possibly want with a fleet? And if you had
one, where are your harbours?"
"That is a point for after consideration," replied Klingemann. "I
am not much acquainted with maritime matters, because I never have
seen the sea; but we consider a fleet as quite essential, and are
determined to build one. Then there is the settlement of religious
differences. That, I own, gives me some anxiety."
"Why should it, in a country where three-fourths of the population,
thanks to metaphysics, are rationalists?"
"I do not know. There is a proposal to construct a pantheon, somewhat
on the principle of the Valhalla, in which men of all sects may
worship; but I am strongly impressed with the propriety of a unity of
creed as well as a unity of race."
"And this creed you would make compulsive?"
"To be sure. We expect obedience to the laws--that is, to our laws,
when we shall have made them; and I cannot see why a law of worship
should be less imperative than a law which binds mankind to the
observance of social institutions."
Shade of Doctor Martin Luther!--this in thy native land!
"Well, professor," said I, "you have given me enough to think on for
one night at least. Perhaps to-morrow you will be kind enough to take
me to the parliament, and point out some of the distinguished men who
are about to regenerate the world."
"Willingly, my dear boy," said the professor; "it is your parliament
as well as mine, for you are clearly of the Saxon race."
"Which," interrupted I, "I intend to repudiate as soon as the
partition begins; for, whatever may be doing elsewhere, there are at
least no symptoms of barricades in the Highlands."
Although it exceeded the bounds of human credulity to suppose that a
majority, or even a considerable section of the German parliament,
entertained such preposterous ideas as those which I had just heard
from Klingemann, it was obvious that the supreme authority had
fallen into the hands of men utterly incapable of discharging the
duty of legislators to the country. A movement, commenced by the
universities, and eagerly seconded by the journalists, had resulted
in the abrupt recognition of universal suffrage as the basis of
popular representation. There had been no intermediate stage between
total absence of political privilege and the surrender of absolute
power, without check or discipline, to the many. What wonder, then,
if the revolution, so rashly accomplished, so weakly acquiesced in
by the majority of the princes of Germany, should already be giving
token of its disastrous fruit? What wonder if the representatives
of an excited and turbulent people should carry with them, to the
grave deliberations of the senate, the same wild and crude ideas
which were uppermost in the minds of their constituency? It needed
but a glance at the parliamentary list to discover that, among
the men assembled in the church of St Paul, there were hardly any
fitted, from previous experience, to undertake the delicate task of
reconstructing the constitutions of Germany. There were plenty of
professors--men who had dreamed away the best part of their lives in
abstract contemplation, but who never had mingled with the world, and
who formed their sole estimate of modern society from the books and
traditions of the past. The recluse scholar is proverbially a man
unfit to manage his own affairs, much less to direct the destinies
of nations; and all experience has shown that the popular estimate
has, in this instance, been strictly true. There were poets of name
and note, whose strains are familiar throughout Europe; but, alas!
it is in vain to expect that the power of Orpheus still accompanies
his art, and that the world can be governed by a song. There were
political writers of the Heine school, enthusiastic advocates of
systems which they could neither defend nor explain--worshippers of
Mirabeau and of the heroes of the French Revolution--and most of them
imbued with such religions and social tenets as were promulgated by
Thomas Paine. There were burghers and merchants from the far cities,
who, since the days of their studentism, had fattened on tobacco
and beer; gained small local reputations by resisting the petty
tyranny of some obnoxious burgo-master; and who now, in consequence
of the total bouleversement of society, find themselves suddenly
exalted to a position of which they do not understand the duties,
or comprehend the enormous responsibility. Political adventurers
there were of every description, but few members of that class which
truly represents the intelligence and property of the country.
In the preliminary assembly, the names of five or six mediatised
princes--particularly those of the house of Hohenlohe--and of several
of the higher nobility, were to be found. Few such names occur in
the present roll,--the only mediatised member is the prince of
Waldburg-Zeil-Trauchburg. This is ominous of the tendency of the
parliament, and of its pure democratic condition.
So much I had learned from a perusal of the debates, which are
now regularly published at Frankfort, and which hereafter may be
considered as valuable documents, illustrating the rise and progress
of revolution. But I was curious to see, with my own eyes, the aspect
of the German parliament, and not a little pleased to find that my
old friend, the professor, was punctual in keeping his appointment.
Saint Paul's church, a circular building of no great architectural
merit, has been appropriated as the theatre of council. Thither
every morning, a crowd of the enthusiastic Frankforters, and crazy
students in their mediæval garbs, repair to pack the galleries, and
bestow their applause upon the speeches of their favourite members.
It is needless to say that, the more democratic the harangue, the
more liberal is the tribute of cheering. The back benches on one side
of the main body of the hall are reserved for the ladies, who, in
Frankfort at least, are keen partisans of revolution. The volubility
with which these fair creatures discuss the affairs of state, and
questions of political economy which the science of Miss Martineau
could not unravel, is really quite astounding. Whenever you meet
a German woman now, you may prepare to hear a tirade upon popular
freedom: they are, as might be expected, even more bitter than the
men in their denunciation of artificial rank; nor do they seem to
be in the slightest degree aware of the fact, that of all hideous
objects on earth, the worst is a patriot in petticoats. I have heard
such venom and bloodthirstiness expressed by a pair of coral lips
that, upon the whole, I should rather have preferred soliciting a
salute from Medusa.
Above the president's chair, and painted in fresco upon the wall, is
a very dirty figure intended to represent Germania, clad in garments
which, at first sight, appeared to be covered with a multitude of
black beetles. On a more close inspection, however, you discover that
these are diminutive eagles; but I can hardly recommend the pattern.
The president, Von Gagern, a tall, dark, fanatic-looking man, is
seated immediately below, and confronts the most motley assemblage of
men that I ever had the fortune to behold.
Klingemann, having intimated to me that it was not his intention to
illuminate the mind of Germany that day by any elaborate discourse,
was kind enough to place himself beside me, and perform the part of
cicerone. My first impression, on surveying the sea of heads in the
assembly, was decidedly unfavourable; for I could hardly discern
amongst the ranks one single individual whose appearance bespoke him
to be a gentleman. The countenances of the members were generally
mean and vulgar, and in many cases absurdly bizarre. Near me sate an
old pantaloon, with a white beard flowing over a frogged surtout, his
head surmounted with a black velvet scull-cap, which gave him all
the appearance of a venerable baboon just escaped from the operation
of trepanning, and a staff of singular dimensions in his hand. This,
Klingemann told me, was Professor Jahn, formerly of Freiburg, and
surnamed the father of gymnastics.
This superannuated acrobat seemed to be the centre of a group of
literary notables, for my friend pointed out in succession, and with
great pride, the burley forms of Dahlman and other thoroughgoing
professors. In fact, one large section of the hall was nothing but a
Senatus Academicus.
"But where," said I, "are the poets? I am very curious to see the
collection of modern minstrels. I presume that young fellow with
the black beard, who is firing away in the tribune, and bawling
himself hoarse, must be one of them. He can, at all events, claim the
possession of a full share of godlike insanity."
"He is not a poet," replied the professor; "that is Simon of Treves,
a very intelligent young man, though a little headstrong. I wish he
would be somewhat milder in his manner."
"Nay, he seems to be suiting the action to the word, according to the
established rules of rhetoric. So far as I can understand him, he
is just suggesting that divers political opponents, whom he esteems
reactionary, should be summarily ejected from the window!"
"Ah, good Simon!--but we have all been young once," said the
professor. "After all, he is a stanch adherent of unity."