University at Frankfort, to engage in a public disputation with his
reader, Morgenstein, who stood on the lecturer's platform in a
grotesque attire, with a fox's brush by his side, no one dared to
gainsay the tyrannical whim, except Johann Jacob Moser, who considered
himself in the relation of a stranger to the Brandenburgers, and
preserved the proud consciousness of being in high consideration in the
Imperial Court. And even he was so excited by the occurrence, that
he fell dangerously ill. Where there exists such a deficiency of
self-respect in men engaged in the struggle of life, their vanity grows
exuberantly. It so clouded the minds of most men of that period, that
but few leave an agreeable impression behind them; and it was no wonder
that only the strongest were free from it. Men were sentimental and
sensitive; it was a matter of decorum to pay compliments; respect for
truth was less than now, and the necessity for politeness greater. He
who exercised an influence on others by his intellectual labours, or by
his own powers had won consideration in his sphere, was accustomed to
receive much praise and honour, and missed it if withdrawn. He who had
no rank or title, had acquired no office in the State, and did not
enjoy the privileges of a superior position, was recklessly crushed and
oppressed. Not merit, but the approbation of influential persons was of
value; not learning alone availed with publishers and readers: a
position at the University, and a great circle of auditors who bought
and spread the works of the teacher, were necessary. Insecure was every
earthly position; everywhere strong and arbitrary power prevailed. Even
the greatest reputations trusted far more to the support of personal
admirers, than to the sound dignity of merit. Thus every individual
expression of praise and blame obtained an importance which we can now
hardly comprehend. Every one was therefore careful to oblige others, in
order to be approved of by strangers. German life was still deficient
in an enlightened daily press, and many individuals were entirely
without the discipline and restraint which is produced by a powerful
public opinion.
Nothing is so difficult as to form a correct judgment of the morality
in families of a far-distant period. For it is not sufficient to
estimate the sum of striking errors, which in itself is very difficult;
it is equally necessary to understand the individual injustice in
particular cases which is often impossible. Among the citizens, the
intercourse of both sexes was almost entirely confined to the family
circles: larger societies were rare. In the houses of intimates, the
habits of the young people were lively and unrestrained; the friends of
the sisters and the comrades of the brothers became part of the family.
The custom still continued of making confidences in jest which would
now be considered objectionable. Embracing and kissing were not
restricted to games of forfeits. Such a custom, however harmlessly and
innocently carried on by the young people, was calculated to give rise
to feelings of levity which we should view with regret, and it
frequently gave birth to a certain bold freedom in the intercourse
between the young men and maidens. Tender liaisons were quickly formed
in families between the unmarried members; no one thought them wrong,
and they were as speedily dissolved. These transient liaisons, full of
sentiment, seldom increased to a deeper passion, nay, in general, the
poetry of youth was extinguished by them. They seldom led, either, to
betrothal or marriage; for marriage at that period, about 1750, was
still as much an affair of business as of the heart. And the endless
blessing of love and faithfulness, which just then began to dawn upon
them, rested generally on other grounds than on the glow of a pure
passion, or a deep-seated communion of feeling preceding the betrothal.
The behaviour of the parties interested in the conclusion of a marriage
strikes us as remarkable. If the man had the prospect of an employment
which would enable him to keep a family, his acquaintances, men and
women, exerted themselves to devise, propose, and negotiate a marriage
for him. Match-making was then a duty which no one could easily escape.
Grave scholars, distinguished officials, rulers and princesses of the
country, assiduously transacted the like disinterested business. A
marriageable man in a respectable position had to endure much from the
admonitions, the mischievous hints, and numerous projects of his
acquaintances. When Gellert first exchanged a few letters with
Demoiselle Caroline Lucius,--whom he had never seen,--he asked her, in
the first long letter with which he had favoured her, whether she would
marry an acquaintance of his, the Precentor at St. Thomas's school.
When Herr von Ebner, chancellor of the University of Altorf, spoke for
the first time to the young Professor Semler, he made him the kind
offer of providing a rich wife for him. The young Professor Puetter, who
was at Vienna in his travels, had the offer of a wealthy merchant's
daughter as a good _partie_, from a count, who was his neighbour at
table, but entirely a stranger to him. This proposal, however, was
declined. But, equally cool as the offers, were the decisions of the
parties interested. Men and women decided upon marrying each other
often after a passing view, or after they had exchanged a few words,
never having had any affectionate intercourse. On both sides a good
recommendation was the main point. The following is an example of a
similar betrothal, which appeared to the parties interested as
especially vehement and impassioned. The assessor of the Supreme Court
of Judicature, von Summermann, became acquainted at the Schwalbach
baths, in 1754, with a Fraeulein von Bachelle, an amiable lady of the
court of a disagreeable Langravine; he saw her frequently at country
parties, to which both were invited by a married acquaintance. Some
weeks later he revealed his wish to marry the Fraeulein, to an
acquaintance at Wetzlar, after he had cautiously collected information
concerning the character of the young lady. The confidant,--it was
Puetter--visited the innocent court lady: "After some short common-place
conversation, I said that I had to make a proposal to her, to which I
must beg for an answer. She replied shortly, 'What kind of proposal?' I
equally shortly and frankly asked, 'Whether she could make up her mind
to marry the Herr von Summermann?' 'Ah, you joke!' was her answer. I
said, 'No, I do not, I am quite in earnest; here I have already a ring
and yet another present (a silk purse with a hundred carlines), by
which I can verify my proposal.' 'Now, if you are in earnest, and bring
the proposal from Herr von Summermann, I do not hesitate a moment.'
Thus she took the ring, but refused to accept the hundred carlines, and
empowered me to convey her assent." The further course also of this
very exciting business was extraordinary and dramatic. The happy lover
had settled that his wooer should obtain for him more certain
information. Now, it is true that a written line in this scribbling age
might have been possible, but it appears that written information was
considered too prolix, and it was undoubtedly then difficult to give it
in one line without titles and congratulations; so it was determined
that, as in "Tristan and Isolde," the result of an undertaking was
telegraphed by a black or a white seal, so here by the transmission of
a certain volume of a valuable legal work of the state chancery, it was
to be signified that the proposal was accepted; another volume of the
same work would have intimated the contrary. And the difference of the
new conscientious period from the old one of Queen Isolde consisted
only in this, that no false signal would be given.
But though in this union the heart to a certain degree asserted its
rights, it was less often the case with men of education and capacity.
Professor Achenwall, a distinguished law teacher at Goettingen, made an
offer to a daughter of Johann Jacob Moser without ever having seen her,
and she in like manner accepted; after her death he married a
Demoiselle Jaeger, of Gotha, to whom he proposed after he had seen her
accidentally on a journey, passing some days in the house of an
acquaintance. Thus it was generally the position and the household
which was the object of women, as it still is in many circles of the
people. The quiet dreams of the candidates for matrimony were
frequently exactly as portrayed by the sober-minded Puetter: "The meals
at the _restaurant_ did not answer to their wishes; to eat alone was
not to their mind; fellow-boarders were not to be reckoned upon; the
household cares concerning the wash, beer, and sugar were disagreeable
occupations; and in the evening, when tired after work, to pay visits
to others when one did not know whether it was opportune, or to await
the visits of others who were themselves in the same dilemma,--all
these were circumstances of consideration, experience, and observation,
which seemed to prove that one could not be happy continually in one's
present position." Undoubtedly also the importance of this step was not
all underrated: quiet deliberation lasted long, and a secret wavering
between eligible parties was frequent. Therefore in general the matter
was left to a benevolent Providence; and an accidental meeting, or the
pressing recommendation of a certain person, was still always
considered as a sign from above.
Those who so thought, were then the spiritual leaders of the
people, the scholars and followers of Leibnitz, Thomasius, and
Wolf,--estimable, good, and perhaps very learned men; and also the
maidens and wives of the best families. It was certainly an ancient
German custom to subordinate the individual; in this most important
concern of life, to the judgment and interests of the family;
undoubtedly marriage was considered more especially the great business
of life which was to be arranged with strict adherence to duty, and not
according to the delusive ideas of the fancy. But these sober, sensible
views were beginning in 1750 to give way to the higher requirements of
the individual Already were men inclined to indulge themselves with a
richer mental life and greater independence. When Caroline Lucius
modestly but firmly declined the offered hand of the Precentor of
Thomas's Church, Gellert felt a little ashamed that he had judged his
correspondent by the ordinary criterion, and in his letters afterwards
a sincere respect may be observed.
But, however frequently the wooing was deficient in the magic of the
most beautiful of earthly passions, the marriages, as far as we can
judge, were not on that account the less happy. That one must suit
oneself in life is a very popular rule of wisdom. The man who proposed
to share a respectable position and a certain income with the object of
his choice, offered her much, according to the views of that time; she
was to show her gratitude by unceasing faithful service, and to lighten
his arduous, laborious life--nay, already had a more exalted feeling
taken root in the souls of women, which we may well call the poetry of
home. The amount of knowledge acquired by a German woman was on the
whole small. If people of rank could not spell, this may be explained
by the fluctuations in education between French and German,--by a
mongrel culture which spoilt the style even of men, not only of
Frederic II. and other rulers, but also of the highest officials, like
the Imperial ambassador who wrote to Gellert, and begged him to send
back his letter with corrections, that he might thereby learn the
secret of good writing. But even the German trained daughter of a
well-educated citizen family was generally deficient both in style and
correctness of writing. Many women, indeed, learnt French, and in
Protestant Germany Italian was more frequently studied than at present;
even the students of Halle, under the guidance of their teacher, caused
Italian treatises to be printed. In other respects education appears to
have done little for women; even instruction in music, beyond the
practice of light airs on the harpsichord, was rare.
But so much the more was the practice of house duties inculcated. To
look after the welfare and comfort of those around them, of parents and
brothers, and afterwards of husbands and children, was the task of the
grown-up daughters. That this should be the object of their life was
unceasingly impressed upon them; it was understood according to every
one's own views. And this care was no longer limited, as in the
sixteenth century, to giving orders in the kitchen, the preparation of
electuaries, and the arrangements of the linen: women were, during the
last century, brought imperceptibly into a worthier position with
respect to their husbands--they had become their friends and
confidants. Although with perhaps scanty knowledge, many of them could
boast of firm minds, clear judgment, and depth of feeling; concerning
some of these, information has accidentally remained to us. We find it,
also, in the wives of simple artisans. If the men, under the influence
of the State and of Pietism, became more timid and less independent,
the women of the same period were manifestly more elevated. We will
draw a comparison with the past. Let us remember Kate Bora, who begged
of the laborious Luther to suffer her to be near him. She sits there
for hours silent, holds his pen for him, and gazes with her large eyes
on the mysterious head, of her husband; and, anxiously gathering,
together in her own mind all her poor knowledge, suddenly breaks out
with the question, which, transposing it into the position of 1750,
would run thus: "Is the Elector of Brandenburg brother to the King of
Prussia?" and when Luther laughingly replies, "He is the same man," his
feeling, notwithstanding all his affection, is--"poor simplicity."[86]
On the other hand, in 1723, Elizabeth Gesner, sits opposite her husband
in the sitting-room of the Conrectorat at Weimar; he is working at his
"_Chrestomathie des Cicero_," and writes with one hand while he rocks
the cradle with the other. Meanwhile Elizabeth industriously mends the
clothes of her children, and playfully disputes with the little ones,
who object to the patches, till at last the mother proposes to them to
cut out the new pieces as sun, moon, and stars, and to sew them on in
this beautiful form. The bright light which then shone from the heart
of the housewife through the poorly furnished room, and the cheerful
smile that played on the countenance of the husband, may be discovered
from his account. When she died, after a long and happy union, the
grey-headed scholar said: "One of us must remain alone, and I had
rather be the forlorn one myself than that she should be so." He
followed her a few months later. Again, soon after 1750, we find Frau
Professorin Semlerin at Halle, sitting with her industrious husband,
some feminine work in her hand; both rejoice that they are together,
that he uses his study only as a receptacle for his books, and that she
considers all society as a separation from her husband. He has so
accustomed himself to work in her presence, that neither the play and
laughter, nor even the loud noise, of his children disturb him; he has
an unbounded respect for the discretion and judgment of his wife. She
rules with unlimited sway in her household; if the excitable man is
disquieted by any adverse occurrence, she knows how to smooth it down
quickly, in her gentle way. She is his true friend and his best
counsellor, even in his relations with the University; his firm
support, always full of love and patience, yet she has learnt little,
and her letters abound in errors of writing. There will be farther
notice of her.
Similar women, simple, deep-feeling, pious, clear-headed, firm and
decided, sometimes also with extraordinary vigour and cheerfulness,
were at this period so frequent that we may truly reckon them as
characteristic of the time. They are the ancestresses and mothers, to
whose worth the literary men, poets, and artists who have sprung up in
the following generations may attribute a portion of their success. It
was not able men, but good housewives,--not the poetry of passion, but
the home life of the family,--to which we owe our training during the
first half of the last century.
And if we, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of those who lived
when Goethe and Schiller grew up, smile at the constraint of the
feelings which appears in the wooings and betrothals of 1750; at the
want of genuine tenderness, in spite of the general yearning for tender
and pathetic feelings; and at the incapacity to give full expression in
language and demeanour to the most exquisite of passions, we must
remember, that just then the nation stood at the portals of a new time
which was to change this poverty into wealth. The reign of Pietism had
introduced a mild sentimentality into the nation; the philosophy of
mathematics had spread over language and life a calm brightness, and
the following fifty years of intense political activity and powerful
productiveness in every realm of science were to bring the nation a
richer development of the mental life. After this took place, the
German was so far fortified by the good spirit of his home, that, even
after the most horrible devastation and destruction, his soul was
strengthened, through the interests of private life, for greater tasks
and more manly labours. After Spener, Wolf, and Goethe came the
volunteers of 1813.
But here we will verify what has been said of the condition, character,
and wooing of Germans about the year 1750 by the record of a
contemporary. He who speaks has already been mentioned several times in
the preceding pages; he is one of whom science will ever preserve a
kindly remembrance. Johann Salomo Semler, Professor of Theology at
Halle, who lived from 1725 to 1791, was one of the first who broke
loose from the orthodox faith of the Protestant Church; and, following
their own investigations, ventured, with the help of the scientific
culture of the period, to form a judgment on the origin and changes of
the church dogmas. His youth was passed in struggle with Pietism, but
at the same time, under its dominion, his warm heart clung, as long as
it continued to beat, like Luther and the Pietists, to the child-like
relation to his God and Father; but, as a scholar, this same man who,
in respect to the daily occurrences of life, was so often yielding,
uncertain, and dependent on those around him, became bold, decided, and
sometimes radical. With him began the criticism of holy traditions; he
was the first who ventured to handle systematically the historical
development and changes of Christianity, and exhibited theology as an
historical process, and as a momentum in the gradual development of the
human mind, not logically, and with very deficient understanding of
ancient times, but yet according to the laws of science. He veiled from
himself the opposition between his faith and his researches in science,
by making a rigid distinction, like the Pietists, betwixt religion and
theology--betwixt the eternal cravings of human nature, which were
satisfied by the old revered forms of revealed faith, and the eternal
impulse of the mind to understand every earthly phenomenon. He has been
called the Father of Rationalism; in truth he was only an enlightened
Pietist, one of those who seem called to prepare, by the union of
opposite conceptions, a new life. He was born in Saalfeld, the son of
an ecclesiastic, a scholar at Halle of the learned Baumgarten; then for
a year the _redacteur_ of the newspaper at Coburg, and for a year
professor of history and poetry at the Nuremberg University of Altorf.
He was called back by Baumgarten to Halle, where he, for nearly forty
years, combated the old Pietists victoriously, and died one of the most
worthy heads of the great University. The following is the account
which he himself gives of his love and wooing; it cannot be given here
without some small alteration in the language, for Semler has--what is
characteristic of him--little in his style of the broad, sure method of
his philosophical contemporaries, but much of the indistinct mode of
speech of the Pietists. He does not use figurative language nor
primitive phrases, but he loves, like them, a certain mysterious
circumlocution and remote allusions, that sometimes make the meaning
almost incomprehensible and require slow reading. Yet it is necessary
to remember one thing, that the following narrative may not disappoint
expectation: he who here narrates was in fact a man of worth and
refined feeling, who rightly enjoyed the full esteem and veneration of
those who lived with him.
Semler has gone through the separation from the family of Baumgarten,
has returned as Master of Arts from Halle to his father's house at
Saalfeld, and has there renewed his acquaintance with a young lady
friend. He relates thus:--
"My residence in Saalfeld did not last long, but was not quite
satisfactory to me. I saw, it is true, that worthy friend very often,
and we enjoyed ourselves together as much as with our virtuous gravity
we could; but there was nothing in it of the rapture or of the great
joy which our new contemporaries[87] describe as superhuman in so many
novels, or, still more, paint poetically and represent quite
sentimentally. It was truly as if we anticipated that this rare harmony
of two souls and characters was something too elevated for such a union
to fail to our lot. This improbability seemed to me to arise from her
situation; to her, from mine, from very different grounds. My prospects
were remote, as I could not attain the great happiness of becoming
'_Conrector_,' to which position even, she was prepared to lower
herself. I saw also that I must shortly incur some debts which I could
not mention to so estimable a person. Thus I found myself unavoidably
dependent, as it were, on any chance prospect. But her parents were
rather old, and her brothers and sisters entirely unprovided for: how
could she think of pledging herself to me on an uncertainty, and, by
making it known, render herself inaccessible to more fortunate
admirers? Meanwhile, with tender sadness, we promised each other
everything we could, and were convinced of our mutual integrity, but
also determined not to place each other in a difficult position.
"My father had written to an old friend at Coburg, _Kammerrath_,
Fick, and begged of him to make some friendly efforts for getting
me a situation. This he did honourably and with the best
intentions."--(Semler travelled to Coburg, obtained there the title of
professor, but without salary; became editor of the "Coburg State and
Literary Gazette," and lodged with the widow of Doctor Doebnerin, a
cheerful, lively woman, who was glad to converse with him, and put many
theological and historical questions to him. It was a quiet,
respectable household: one daughter, the Demoiselle Doebnerin, was still
at home, about whom the professor, who had much work and little income,
concerned himself little. Thus he lived for a year; then he learnt from
an acquaintance that a professor was wanted at the University of
Altorf, which he could easily obtain, but he must present himself
there. This information excited him much; he was powerfully attracted
towards the University; he had seen no possibility of it; now a
prospect was open to him, but he had no money for the journey--nay, he
was in debt to his landlady for rent and board; he long pined away in
silence.)
"The doctor's widow, my landlady, remarked that for some days I had not
conversed with the cheerfulness that had before pleased her so well,
because it gave her the opportunity of introducing her usual complaints
and old tales; I was no longer of use to her in this, and, still worse,
was always withdrawing from them. So she asked me what was the reason?
I was so surprised, that I confessed I had a proposal to be professor
at Altorf; it required a quick decision, and I must take it into
serious consideration. This information, that I might soon leave,
appeared to excite both mother and daughter, and I now began to be
sharper in my observations than I had been formerly. Hitherto I had
thought nothing about the daughter, who took care of everything in the
house, and seldom remained after we had finished our meals, and only
treated her according to the laws of civility; and I did not consider
it a part of this civility, either to kiss her hand, or to indulge in
small talk. The mother, with all her gay vivacity, had kept her
daughter very strictly, as she was not quite pleased with the free mode
of life which already began to prevail among her sex at Coburg. She
maintained the old principles, in which she had herself been brought up
in Saalfeld; she had few visitors at her house, as indeed she had not
much time for it, so orderly was the manner in which the household was
managed. It is true it was called avarice and parsimony, but for a city
such housekeeping is very necessary; and those who so willingly spend
their money, that they must borrow, should at least not judge ill of
the indispensable benefactors from whom they borrow. I knew the daily
tranquil enjoyment that pervaded this home, and I found therein
assuredly far more happiness than in many others where there were
splendour and bustle.
"Now I called to mind that some persons in Coburg had already warned me
against this acquaintance, which I nevertheless found so uniformly
blameless. I watched more narrowly, and it appeared to me as if I was
regarded favourably; only when I came to draw my conclusions, whether I
should endeavour to help myself by means of this quiet and virtuous
daughter, my heart fell within me. What reason had I to entertain any
hopes, as I had for nearly a whole year been guilty of marked
inattention? She had already refused a professor, and I knew other
proofs of her acting with independent and not over hasty deliberation,
where many others, from an inclination to vanity, would have decided
hastily. It was the less probable that she would accept me, as I had no
outward advantages to offer. I nevertheless showed greater attention,
both to mother and daughter, than I had done hitherto, but still
undecided in my mind.
"At this time I wrote to my sister at Saalfeld; the contents of this
letter were sad enough; it was to this effect, that on account of some
small debts, merely caused by the difficulty of raising money, I should
be obliged to renounce altogether the dear friend of that place, who
nevertheless, I honoured profoundly. I was not in a position to follow
the bent of my affections.
"If I was to attempt to borrow money in Saalfeld, my father would
certainly prevent it, as I had clearly remarked, that he had always
endeavoured to dissuade me from my plans, and admonished me not to run
counter to Providence by over haste. I passed many sorrowful hours
before I received an answer from Saalfeld, and still more when I did
receive it, and found that this separation was finally settled. Very
serious reflections upon many similar cases tranquillised me by
degrees, although my high esteem for that worthy young person was
unalterable.
"But so much the more I felt my very insignificant position; and, thus
truly humiliated, I reproached myself continually. I asked myself
whether I was to call upon this dutiful and virtuous daughter to give
so much money for me, of which she certainly had as little thought as
her mother; for it was undoubtedly not with this view that she had
shown me so many courtesies. She had long considered me as having a
decided inclination for some one; she often reminded me in a friendly
way about Halle, and how I had often praised openly and with such great
feeling the incomparable Dr. Baumgarten; and just because I had shown
so much diffidence and lively feeling with regard to Halle, she had
thought favourably of me, and had assumed that I had a settled
engagement there. How was I now all at once to convince her that it was
otherwise, without giving an open field for divers detrimental thoughts
and observations on myself? I alone know how entirely depressed was my
spirit at this time; how I spent my days and nights restless and
dejected, till at last I learnt to bow myself to the universal law of
God's government.
"I more than once perplexed myself again with strong doubts whether I
was important enough for Divine Providence to occupy Himself with me,
and whether all my anxieties were not the consequences of my faults and
my inconsiderate conduct; in short, I could no longer continue in this
depressing condition, as I had no time to lose in complaints. I must
announce myself at Nuremberg so many days before Petri Pauli. Now I
wrote two letters, one to the mother, and inclosed in it another to the
daughter, wherein I revealed my views, but at the same time distinctly
showed my present position, and appealed to their own knowledge and
judgment of my principles, and confided myself to them. It was
impossible for me by word of mouth to express so carefully and clearly
all the necessary details.
"This letter I took with me when I went to supper, and placed it in the
mother's prayer-book, which always lay by her place, so that the letter
must, without fail, come into her hands this same evening. I did not
otherwise allow anything to be perceived, but went away somewhat
earlier than I had hitherto done, that there might be more time left
for the discovery, and for their deliberation.
"In the letter I begged of the mother, if she found what I proposed was
decidedly objectionable, that she would not lay the letters before her
daughter, but would send them both back to me, and then would kindly
ascribe my too great confidence to her indulgence. In proportion as my
life had been hitherto solitary, the deeper was the impression made in
my soul by my anxious and uncertain wishes; my spirit now began to
raise itself more earnestly to God in a deep and entire submission,
that I might more and more be weaned from the trivial occurrences of
life and their results, by looking to eternity. I found an increase of
tranquillity, and a contented submission to all the dispensations of
Providence, which I had long so vainly endeavoured to create in myself.
"Three days passed, during which we met as inmates of the same house,
as though nothing had passed between us which required an answer, and I
was persuaded that it was a kind way of sparing my feelings, that my
proposal was to be buried in silence, as they wished to relieve me from
an unpleasant explanation. As usual, I was always too desponding. The
following Sunday--it was the 10th of June, 1751--as I was leaving the
table after dinner, the _Frau Doctorin_ asked me to drink a cup of
coffee with her that afternoon. Still she kept her countenance so
completely, that I could not promise myself much advantage from this
invitation. The next two hours I spent promenading in the open air, in
a very composed state of mind, recalling many vanished ideas and
wishes, and in much sorrow at the prospect of my shortly impending
journey, which must now take me far from Saalfeld and Halle.[88] Thus I
did not return very soon, and went straight to her room. I immediately
discovered such an expression of natural, earnest, and approving
friendship in the countenance of the mother, who came forward to meet
me, that I could no longer doubt the success of my proposal, and my
feelings also became equally visible when I began to speak. The
feelings of all three were similar and showed themselves perceptibly in
our eyes, a kind of joyful solemnity ensued, and we all three returned
thanks to God. The mother laid before me the two letters, and asked,
'Do you confess that you have written these?' 'Oh, yes,' I said, and
kissed her hand. She kissed me warmly, and assured me of her most
hearty approbation.
"The daughter very soon after lost her heretofore shyness, and raised
her eyes pleasantly, because she knew it did not displease her mother,
and she had now a right to make herself pleasant. We had neither of us
had any romantic training, otherwise she would not have waited for this
till I had spoken and had obtained the mothers consent. Thus this
affair, which was so difficult and so important for me, took a smooth
course, without the intervention of any other person, or the employment
of those arts or intrigues with which brides are entrapped by many.
"It is not necessary for me to tell the holy and humble thankfulness of
my soul to God, nor how much I endeavoured to preserve my inward peace
and tranquillity, in spite of the gossip that followed upon this my
resolution.
"I immediately investigated the character of my bride; she had an
agreeable aspect, although the smallpox, which she had passed through
after she was grown up, had materially injured her complexion. Her
education had been carried on partly under the eyes of a grandmother
and an excellent aunt, partly by the mother, who kept a tutor for her
and her brother. After the death of the father, the mother and daughter
had lived in great retirement. But she had only the more cultivated all
those qualifications which are most advantageous to her sex; her
judgment was so good, that her mother generally preferred it to her own
in household arrangements. The style of her letters was good, the
handwriting pretty and even, and there were very few faults of
orthography. In this she excelled all her many relations. Accounts she
understood far better than her mother, and had, when scarcely fifteen
years of age, during a long absence of her mother, so accurately
reckoned up the details of an income of 1800 gulden, that there was
nothing missing. She had for some years kept her own accounts in
respect of a property which she had inherited from an uncle at
Coburg, amounting to a thousand gulden or more. She had learned to
dance, and held herself well, but was not particularly fond of it; her
head-dresses she made herself, and many of her clothes, and always in
good taste. This pleasure in the work of her own hands was considered
by others of her own age, who had no such pleasure in it, as the result
of great parsimony, which it certainly was not, as I shall presently
show.
"We now associated more freely, and during the few remaining days of my
stay, often walked together, especially in the great garden on the
Lossau. There we sat, sometimes under the trees overlooking the city.
She was so frank with me, that she said to me of her own accord, 'Now
you must exert yourself, and take some control over me, to wean me from
the faults which long solitude has engendered in me. I may, by my
devotion perhaps, and by my pure good heart, recommend myself to you;
but, as we must mix with many people and become a portion of the
so-called great world, you must help me, that I may not then appear to
disadvantage, till I can myself judge rightly with respect to
externals. For you are superior to me in understanding and in the
refinements of language and social intercourse.' This honesty brought
tears into my eyes. She wept with me, asking whether I now repented,
and whether I had not long known these defects of hers?
"In answer to this, I said, 'I have more cause to be uneasy than you,
lest you should repent of having given your hand and heart to a
Professor, whom you will soon find deficient in all external means,
although very laborious. And now I will lay before you all my
anxieties, entirely without reserve. You know it is true that my father
can give me nothing; but you do not know that I cannot at present pay
you for board and lodging, and that I must incur many small debts, that
we may leave Coburg in suitable style.'
"She looked at me tenderly, and said: 'If you have really no other
cause for uneasiness, I am truly very happy to say that I can help to
place you in a better position. Think, therefore, only of making me
more worthy of you, that I may not injure you in society. I am mistress
of my own fortune, in the management of which I have hitherto sometimes
asked advice of Dr. Berger, as my guardian. He esteems you too highly,
for him to put the least obstacle in the way of my serving you when I
wish to do so.'
"Thus this worthy person has always evinced an unselfish, honourable
manner of thinking, and relieved me from all shame and uneasiness about
my position.
"Now I began to think about my journey, that I might not arrive too
late at Nuremberg.
"At Nuremberg there were still very many features of great antiquity,
which made much impression on me. Birkmann, preacher at the church of
St. Giles, had kindly offered that I should take up my quarters with
him. I was received by him very lovingly, and he gave me a room
up-stairs, in which were his books; a neighbourhood which was very
useful to me, as I was able in the evening to search out some accounts
of Nuremberg, that everything might not be so entirely strange to me.
As soon as I possibly could I presented myself before the gentlemen of
the council, in the great hall of the Council-house, at the hour when
they entered the hall from their separate rooms. The great impression
made on me by this grand building, and the unusual circumstances in
which I was placed, had a good effect upon me, so that I with modesty
and emotion spoke out freely, which, together with my pressing
recommendations, obtained me the gracious approbation of these
venerable persons. Herr von Ebner, whose own learning and noble manner
of thinking filled every one with respect, desired me afterwards to be
told that he expected me in the afternoon at his house. I sought to
recover the composure of my mind, that I might be distracted as little
as possible by so many unexpected events, and turn this visit the more
to my advantage. As this gentleman was almost blind I was deprived of
much assistance, for by an unaffected modest attitude, which I always
liked, I had elsewhere frequently procured myself a hearing, even from
those who hitherto had been prepossessed against me. After I had stood
some minutes, and had expressed my feelings of gratitude in the best
sentences I could utter, avoiding equally bombast and common-place, he
said: 'Herr Professor, your voice and speech please me so much that I
regret not being able to see you distinctly. Seat yourself near me; I
must speak to you on various things. The great man whom we have lost,
Professor Schwarz, has especially and confidentially recommended you to
me; but there is truly no want of competitors for the place which he
has vacated.' Now he came to my '_miscellaneas lectiones_' parts of
which had been read to him, and asked so many particulars that the
conversation resembled an examination. At last he said to me, with
evident pleasure, 'You are just the man; if I say it you will be
chosen. I heartily wish you happiness for yourself and Altorf.' Then he
caused Trident wine to be brought, and the servant was not to allow the
glass to stand empty. Now he was so gracious, that when I rose he said,
'If I can provide you with a rich wife, tell me so straightforwardly.'
I kissed his hand reverently, pressed it with my forehead, and said at
once, with great feeling, 'I thank you.' 'I shall be all the better
pleased,' he said, 'if you have no disquiet in your outward life.' He
desired me, when I returned again from Altorf, to ask for him;
meanwhile he took me into his garden, and wished to talk on other
matters with me, which afterwards took place. I must say that such
noble affability, and active regard, as were shown by the gentlemen of
Nuremberg to their men of learning, I have seldom met with elsewhere.
"The preacher Birkmann travelled with me to Altorf. On the way I
thought it right to give the excellent man to understand that Herr von
Ebner had wished to make a good marriage for me; but I had found it
necessary already at Coburg to discharge this duty, and free myself
from the anxiety, so that all other well-meant arrangements were
useless. Meanwhile I revolved many new thoughts in my mind.
"I arrived safely at Coburg, and brought the vocation with me. On the
26th August, 1751, the amiable Doebnerin was married to me in the
sacristy."--
Thus far we give the account of the husband, who, in the further course
of his autobiography, takes every opportunity of expressing his love
and admiration for the wife of his choice, and composed a special
eulogy on her after death. Unfortunately no letter has been preserved
from the Frau Professorin, whose style was so much praised by the
Professor. But a love-letter will be given of the year 1750, from one
of her circle of Coburg acquaintance,[89] which one may presume gives
pretty accurately the style of the Demoiselle Doebnerin; the same
customary forms and artificial tenderness under which the warm feelings
of a human heart are only occasionally perceptible. This letter, from a
betrothed to her intended in Coburg, runs thus:--
"Chosen one of my heart! As I do not doubt that the holy Christmas
season will have brought with it to my loved child all its best and
most desired blessings, so do I hope that the good God will mercifully
hear my fervent prayers, and pour upon him in rich measure so much
health, bliss, and all pleasures, that I may continually have cause to
praise Him. I also send my congratulations on the approaching new year,
and will express my sincere heartfelt wishes in these few words: 'Most
Highest, hear my prayer! for the sake of my dearest child take the half
of my life and add it to his years, so will my temporal welfare which
germinates through his goodness soon develope the ripe fruit of bliss,
in spite of the foaming of envy and malevolence.'
"My love has given me very great pleasure by his agreeable letter, as I
have seen that he, whose frequent occupations might easily cause me to
be forgotten, has not been hindered from thinking most kindly of me,
therefore I return my beloved my most bounden thanks. He was pleased in
his dear letter to mention that the ring is ready, but it is not stated
what I am to pay for it, I therefore expect in the next a few lines
concerning this, and also touching the honourable brother-in-law.
"If my beloved desires that I should know or look after aught else, may
it please him to speak out freely: his orders shall at all times be
commands to me. To the most highly-esteemed Frau Mamma and the Frau
Schwester I send my dutiful congratulations on this new year, and
request of them further their gracious favour. My papa and mamma send
equally their compliments, and wish my beloved to enjoy in undisturbed
contentment all blessings and prosperity. We expect with great desire a
kind answer, and my papa is the more desirous to receive one, as he
himself dictated mamma's letter. I am anxious to learn what resolution
his honour has come to touching this matter. I beg leave, my heart, to
send with this a bad specimen of my workmanship for a waistcoat, humbly
requesting his honour not to regard the smallness of its value, but
rather the goodwill with which it is given, for I assure him there are
not as many stitches in it, as there are good wishes accompanying it.
In conclusion, I remain, with constant esteem,
"My beloved one's
"Most affectionate
"C. C. K.
"A. Monsieur, Monsieur ... at Coburg."
So cautious, formal, and florid were the love-letters of a true-hearted
frank maiden, like the dear wife of Professor Semler.
But he himself, Johann Salomo Semler,--the father of modern theology,
long the highly-honoured head of the University, who, in his scientific
views, was a bolder, rasher man than his older contemporaries,--how
should we judge him, if measured by the standard of our time? Because
he has no money for his journey, and some debts in Coburg, he
determines to marry; he informs his love in Saalfeld of his situation,
and woos the daughter of his wealthy landlady, to whom hitherto he had
appeared indifferent. The like of this in our time, speaking mildly,
would be called--pitiful. And yet when the aged Professor gave his
narrative to the public, he plainly assumed that his conduct would not
appear dishonourable in the eyes of his contemporaries. There is no
reason to doubt that the friends of his youth thought exactly the same,
perhaps somewhat less conscientiously. When he was young, what rights
had the heart of a poor scholar against a cold, tyrrannical world?
Little as yet. What was the aim and object of his life? To learn and
labour from early mom till dead of night, in order to instil his
painfully gained knowledge into other souls, to spread by writings and
teaching, all that was important and new that he searched out,
descried, or conceived. Therein lay his highest duty and honour, the
object and pride of his earthly days; to this must his private life be
adapted and accommodated. Thus it was not only the few, that felt a
burning ambition, it was a general feeling, as with Semler, in many
hundreds who starved, bowed themselves before the powerful and changed
their faith, in order to be able to live for science. There is nothing
noble in this, but it is nevertheless a seeking after something nobler;
it is the old German yearning for something to be devoted to, which is
immeasurably more estimable than devotion to self. Let manly power be
united with such a tone of mind, together with the feeling of being a
ruler upon earth, and something will arise which all following ages
will call great and good.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: In this battle (A.D. 9) Armin defeated the Romans, and
freed Germany.]
[Footnote 2: J. Arends, in "East Friesland and Jever" (vol. ii. p.
190), has collected traces of ancient culture on the excavated ground.
The coast of the North Sea, from Borkum to Schleswig, stretched, in the
time of the Romans, probably farther to the north; the encroachment of
the sea had already begun at the time that Pliny wrote, and since that
it has taken more than it has given. The Dollart and the Zuyderzee
(1164) were formed by several great inundations after the Crusades, and
the Jahde in the fifteenth century.]
[Footnote 3: The smoked meats of Germany were named as an article of
traffic under Diocletian.]
[Footnote 4: Thus, for example, in the monastery of Alpirspach, in the
Black Forest, from which Ambrosius Blaurer escaped in 1622, a certain
holy Pelagius and John the Baptist had both their vassals, who rejoiced
in peculiar privileges.]
[Footnote 5: Dialogue of "New Karsthans." This is the fictitious name
assumed by Ulrich von Hutten, the author of a political squib at that
period.]
[Footnote 6: Seifried Helbling, viii., in Moriz Haupt, periodical for
German Antiquity, Vol. iv., p. 164. The Austrian knight laments the
intrusion of the peasant into his order as an abuse. He wrote,
according to Karajan, the eighth of his little books about 1298.]
[Footnote 7: The quaint way in which the old language is here mixed
with foreign dialects cannot be rendered.]
[Footnote 8: Our word _pferd_ (horse), then the Roman elegant word for
the German horse.]
[Footnote 9: Duke Ernst of Swabia, a celebrated poem of the middle
ages.]
[Footnote 10: These names could hardly have been invented by
Helmbrecht, to characterise the robbers; it is probable, from what
follows, that the like wild nicknames were humorously given by the
nobles themselves, and used as party names.]
[Footnote 11: The old German wedding custom. In the thirteenth century
the Church had seldom any concern in the nuptials of country people and
courtlings. It was only in the fourteenth century it began to be
considered unrefined not to have the blessing of a priest. When our
junkers declaim against civil marriages they forget that it was the
fashion of their forefathers.]
[Footnote 12: An ancient popular superstition. It was similar with the
wooers in the "Odyssey" before their end.]
[Footnote 13: This song is to be found in Kornmann's "Frau Veneris
Berg," 1614 p. 306. Similar songs in Uhland.]
[Footnote 14: The great poet for the people, a native of Nuremberg.]
[Footnote 15: Means Hoejack, which was adopted by Ulrich von Hutten as
a characteristic title of a political squib in defence of the
peasantry.--_Trans_.]
[Footnote 16: Quaint title of a series of pamphlets denouncing abuses
in Church and State, published about 1521.--_Trans_.]
[Footnote 17: A colloquy between a fox and wolf, in the "Staigerwaldt,"
1524, p. 6. Under the similitude of a wolf and fox two fugitive junkers
of the Sickingen party discourse together. The plundering of the nobles
having been strongly spoken of, the wolf says: "By this voracity, we
have made enemies of many citizens and peasants, who have lately bound
themselves to take away all our lives, if they can catch us." Fox: "Who
are these citizens and peasants?" Wolf: "Those who live in Upper
Swabia, Augsburg, Ulm, Kempten, Bibrach, Memmingen, and by the Neckar,
and the Nurembergers and Bavarians on the frontier."]
[Footnote 18: Full details of the sufferings of the country people
during the war will be found in the second volume of "The Pictures of
German life."]
[Footnote 19: "Imperial Privileges and Sanctions for Silesia," vols.
i., p. 166; iii., 759.]
[Footnote 20: Ib., vol. i., pp. 150-59.]
[Footnote 21: "Imperial Privileges and Sanctions for Silesia," vol. i.,
p. 125.]
[Footnote 22: Ib., vol. i., p. 138.]
[Footnote 23: Seven hundred and fifty of these have been reckoned by C.
H. von Lang, in his "Historical Development of German Taxation," 1793.]
[Footnote 24: F. von Liebenroth: "Fragments from my Diary," 1701, p.
159. The writer was a Saxon officer, a sensible and loyal man.]
[Footnote 25: District regulations for the Principalities of Oppeln and
Ratibor of the year 1561.]
[Footnote 26: The provincial ordinances for the Principalities of
Oppeln and Ratibor, year 1561.]
[Footnote 27: Von Hohberg: "Country Life of the Nobles," 1687. See the
Introduction.]
[Footnote 28: Imperial Privil. and Sanct., vol. iv., p. 1213.]
[Footnote 29: One may nearly estimate the proportion of the peasants to
the collective population of Germany, about 1750, at from 65 to 70 per
cent.; of these four-fifths were villeins, thus more than half the
people.]
[Footnote 30: "The Exposure of the Vices, Morals, and Evils of the
thick-skinned, coarse-grained, and wicked Peasantry," by _Veroandro_,
of _Truth Castle_, 1684. The author appears to have been the same
clergyman who added verses to the later editions of the Simplicissimus,
and pointed the moral.]
[Footnote 31: "The Happy and Unhappy Peasantry," p. 178. Frankfort, s.
a. About 1700.]
[Footnote 32: "Lasterprob," p. 82.]
[Footnote 33: "The Happy and Unhappy Peasant Class." p. 155.]
[Footnote 34: "Kurtze Beschreibung, der Acker-Leuthe und Ehrenlob," p.
33. Hof. 1701.]
[Footnote 35: "Imperial Privil. and Sanct.," vols. ii., p. 584; v.,
1511.]
[Footnote 36: F. von Liebenroth, p. 146.]
[Footnote 37: Supreme Court of the Empire.]
[Footnote 38: J. V. Bohlen; "Georg von Behr; A picture of Pomeranian
Life," p. 24, 1859.]
[Footnote 39: Imp. Priv. and Sanct., 1577, 1602, 1617, vols. i., 93,
100; iii., 1108.]
[Footnote 40: Even in the years 1602 and 1617; Ib., vol. iii, 1107.]
[Footnote 41: A well-known literary society.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 42: Dietrich von Kracht, the Brandenburg colonel, was called
in this society "the Biter;" his herb was the horseradish.]
[Footnote 43: This complaint may be found in "Imp. Sanct.," 9th Feb.,
1684.]
[Footnote 44: For most of these details from the manuscript diary of an
Austrian, Baron von Teuffel, in 1672 and the following years, the
Editor has to thank the kindness of Graf Wolf Baudissin.]
[Footnote 45: Compare this with the Silesian Robinson, Oct. 8, 1723,
vol. i., p. 16. The first part of this Robinsonade is a vivid sketch
from the diary of a Silesian noble, which appears to be lost.]
[Footnote 46: P. Winckler, "The Nobleman," p. 510.]
[Footnote 47: We are averse to quoting the erotic books which corrupted
German readers; we shall only mention a short and scarce tale, wherein
some such orgies are described after the Dutch original: "The
Perverted, but at the same time Converted, Soldier Adrian Wurmfeld von
Orsoy," by Crispinus Bonifacius von Duesseldorp, p. 4. 1675. 4to.]
[Footnote 48: _Pfeffersaecke_, Pepper-sack, and _Krippenreiter_, a
poor country Squire, who rides about living on the bounty of the
gentry.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 49: The Student's cap used in sham fights.]
[Footnote 50: In 1603 this was already denounced from Vienna; the abuse
became very bad during the war.--Kais. Privil. und Sanct., vol. i., p.
117.]
[Footnote 51: Kais. Privil. und Sanct., vol. iv., p. 1125.]
[Footnote 52: Kais. Privil. und Sanct., vol. i, p. 377, year 1712.]
[Footnote 53: Kais. Privil. und Sanct., vol. iii., pp. 989 and 1021.]
[Footnote 54: J. B. von Bohr, "Ceremoniel Wissenschaft," p. 229.]
[Footnote 55: J. B. von Bohr, _ibid._, p. 33.]
[Footnote 56: For when the splendid prince had arrived at the object of
his wishes by countless bribery to the Polish grandees, and after he
had proved his new Catholicism to his party--less through the enforced
testimony of the Pope than by the expenditure of some thalers and a
half measure of brandy to each noble elector--then, at his eventful
coronation on the 5th of September, 1697, the inventive powers of the
chamberlain were strained to the uttermost, for the costume was to be
antique, at the same time Polish and also fashionable and suitable to a
cavalier. Therefore the king wore on his well-powdered head a Polish
cap with a heron's plume; on his body a strong golden breastplate, over
his short French breeches a short Roman tunic, on his feet sandals,
over all a blue ermine cloak; the whole dress covered with splendid
precious stones. He became faint at the coronation, and it was doubtful
whether it was owing to the uncomfortable costume or to shame. The
Poles ate on this day three roast oxen, while at the Emperor's
coronation at Frankfort only one was customary.--Compare Foerster, "Hoefe
und Cabinette Europas," vol. iii., p. 51.]
[Footnote 57: Letters of recommendation entitling the holder to
sustenance in some ecclesiastical foundation.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 58: She certainly was not a girl of loose character, as
Huellmann in the "Staedtewesen," vol. ii., assumes; on the contrary, she
passed in the sports as the symbol of a city which was supposed to be
under the protection of the Holy Virgin, and, till the time of Tilly,
boasted of never having been taken. It is possible that the maiden may
have been a serf, but this is not certain.]
[Footnote 59: Wolffgang Ferber, Prietzschenmeister--jest
maker--"Gruendliche Beschreibung eines fuernehmen fuerstlichen
Armbrustschiessens zu Coburg," 1614.]
[Footnote 60: On a Franconian gem of the sixteenth century an archer
and a crossbow are portrayed.--Bechstein Museum, II., figure 4.]
[Footnote 61: For example, in the circular of the Meiningens, 1579,
"crooked or straight rifled barrels are forbidden." Quarrels must have
arisen sometimes concerning this at the public shooting meetings, for
in 1563 Elector August of Saxony decided that rifled barrels should
only be allowed, if all the shooters agreed to it.]
[Footnote 62: Pritschmeister, a species of Merry Andrew--master of the
ceremonies and provost marshal.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 63: The favourite preamble of their poem. They wander poor
and full of cares into the free expanse of nature; then comes joyful
news of a shooting meeting. It was undoubtedly traditional, and it was
a fitting and refined beginning, which one learned from the other.]
[Footnote 64: Wolfgang Ferber. "Gruendliche beschreibung eines Armbrust
Schiessens zu Coburg." 1614.]
[Footnote 65: A square coin.]
[Footnote 66: Welser-Gasser, "Chronika von Augspurg," p. 182.]
[Footnote 67: Compare vol. ii of "Pictures of German Life," chap.
"Rogues and Adventurers."]
[Footnote 68: Benedict Edlbeck, pritschmeister: "Ordentliche
beschreibung des grossen Schiessen in Zwickau," 1574, p. 82.]
[Footnote 69: Even the valiant Quad von Kinkelbach counts this as one
of the wonders of Frankfort: "Teutscher Nation Herlichbuit," 1609, p.
171. Compare it with Christoff Roesener: "Ehren Tittel der Ritterlichen
Freyen Kunst der Fechter," 1589, p. 4. The _Federfechter_ gave their
freedom to their scholars at princes' courts; also, for example,
at Dresden, 1614, at the great Schaufechter which followed the
prize-shooting, where a Fechter was stabbed by a rapier.--Wolffgang
Ferber's "Relation eines fuernehmen Stahlschiessens zu Dresden," 1614.]
[Footnote 70: Derisive terms applied to certain localities.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 71: Invitation circular of the Kehlheimers in "Bairische
Annalen."]
[Footnote 72: The Swiss also were subject to the _pritschmeister_. In
the woodcut on the title-page of the curious poem "Aussreden der
Schuetzen von Hans Heinrich Grob, Zuerich, 1602," there is delineated a
rifle shooting, in which the _pritschmeister_, in complete fool's
dress, is castigating two Shooters in the way above described.]
[Footnote 73: Called Koenigsschiessen, as a king was elected for the
occasion.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 74: An open space round the town.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 75: A court entertainment, representing life in an
inn.--_Tr_.]
[Footnote 76: Von Rohr, "Ceremoniel-Wissenschaft," p. 261.]
[Footnote 77: "_De ratione status in Imperio nostro Romano-Germanico_,
1640." The expression is not invented by Chemnitz, it had been
introduced before him in diplomatic jargon by the Italians--their
_ragione di Dominio_, or _di Stato_ (in Latin, _ratio status_; in
French, _raison d'estat_; in German, _Staatsklugheit_) denotes the
method of dealing in the finesses of politics, a system of unwritten
maxims of government in which only practical statesmen were versed.]
[Footnote 78: The title runs thus: "_Idolum Principium_, that is, the
rulers' idol, which they worship in these days and call _Ratio Status_,
described in a not fabulous fable, after the manner of history."]
[Footnote 79: "Lebens Beschreibung Johannis Petersen," 1717; 2nd edit.
1719, 8. "Leben Frauen Johanna Eleonora Petersen," 1718; 2nd edit.
1719, 8.]
[Footnote 80: The stranger was Spener.]
[Footnote 81: The father now held a situation at a pious court; the
princess, whose attendant he was, was an active promoter of the match.]
[Footnote 82: A special virtue was ascribed by the superstitious not
only to inherited metal but to inherited knowledge, particularly of
smiths, shepherds, and executioners.]
[Footnote 83: Mounted mercenaries who had no groom boy. The einspaenner
performed in peace the service of gensdarmes.]
[Footnote 84: The Duke of Holstein is Bishop of Lubeck. The court
preacher called him, according to the case, his duke or bishop. This
double position of the weak prince, and his conduct, denote the
helpless condition of the Protestant Church.]
[Footnote 85: J. M. von Loen, "Der Adel," 1732, pp. 133-4.]
[Footnote 86: He related the story later with glee; his wife, from
living with him, had become quite different. But Kate's question,
whether the German Commander-in-Chief was brother of the Prussian Duke,
appeared so extraordinary to Luther, because just then, 1526, all
details concerning Albrecht of Prussia were discussed in the circle of
the Wittenbergers; and she, the most closely united to Luther, knew
nothing of him. Katherine had then already lived in the families of
friends at Wittenberg two years, so that it was not entirely the fault
of the convent that she sat so quiet and helpless in the house of her
husband.]
[Footnote 87: Dr. Johann Salomo Semler's "Lebensbeschriebung," drawn up
by himself, 2nd part, appeared in 1781. The here-mentioned lady friend
is not named; she appears to have been noble, or of the higher official
class.]
[Footnote 88: He sought for composure by thinking of both the
demoiselles, in Halle and Saalfeld.]
[Footnote 89: The letter is given, because its purport is almost
identical with one written by the beautiful Ursula Freherin to her
bridegroom in 1598, in vol. i. of "Pictures of German Life," p. 233.
For the letter here published the Editor has to thank Baron Ernst von
Stockmar.]
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.