the Jewish nation, show us now, in conclusion, a form by which the hopes
and fancies of the young in particular are agreeably excited,--Joseph,
the child of the most passionate wedded love. He seems to us tranquil
and clear, and predicts to himself the advantages which are to elevate
him above his family. Cast into misfortune by his brothers, he remains
steadfast and upright in slavery, resists the most dangerous
temptations, rescues himself by prophecy, and is elevated according to
his deserts to high honors. He shows himself first serviceable and
useful to a great kingdom, then to his own kindred. He is like his
ancestor Abraham in repose and greatness, his grandfather Isaac in
silence and devotedness. The talent for traffic, inherited from his
father, he exercises on a large scale. It is no longer flocks which are
gained for himself from a father-in-law, but nations, with all their
possessions, which he knows how to purchase for a king. Extremely
graceful is this natural story, only it appears too short; and one feels
called upon to paint it in detail.
Such a filling-up of biblical characters and events given only in
outline, was no longer strange to the Germans. The personages of both
the Old and New Testaments had received through Klopstock a tender and
affectionate nature, highly pleasing to the boy, as well as to many of
his contemporaries. Of Bodmer's efforts in this line, little or nothing
came to him; but "Daniel in the Lion's Den," by Moser, made a great
impression on the young heart. In that work, a right-minded man of
business, and courtier, arrives at high honors through manifold
tribulations; and the piety for which they threatened to destroy him
became, early and late, his sword and buckler. It had long seemed to me
desirable to work out the history of Joseph; but I could not get on with
the form, particularly as I was conversant with no kind of versification
which would have been adapted to such a work. But now I found a
treatment of it in prose very suitable, and I applied all my strength to
its execution. I now endeavored to discriminate and paint the
characters, and, by the interpolation of incidents and episodes, to make
the old simple history a new and independent work. I did not consider,
what, indeed, youth cannot consider, that subject-matter was necessary
to such a design, and that this could only arise by the perceptions of
experience. Suffice it to say, that I represented to myself all the
incidents down to the minutest details, and narrated them accurately to
myself in their succession.
What greatly lightened this labor was a circumstance which threatened to
render this work, and my authorship in general, exceedingly voluminous.
A well-gifted young man, who, however, had become imbecile from over-
exertion and conceit, resided as a ward in my father's house, lived
quietly with the family, and, if allowed to go on in his usual way, was
contented and agreeable. He had, with great care, written out notes of
his academical course, and acquired a rapid, legible hand. He liked to
employ himself in writing better than in any thing else, and was pleased
when something was given him to copy; but still more when he was
dictated to, because he then felt carried back to his happy academical
years. To my father, who was not expeditious in writing, and whose
German letters were small and tremulous, nothing could be more
desirable; and he was consequently accustomed, in the conduct of his own
and other business, to dictate for some hours a day to this young man. I
found it no less convenient, during the intervals, to see all that
passed through my head fixed upon paper by the hand of another; and my
natural gift of feeling and imitation grew with the facility of catching
up and preserving.
As yet, I had not undertaken any work so large as that biblical prose-
epic. The times were tolerably quiet, and nothing recalled my
imagination from Palestine and Egypt. Thus my manuscripts swelled more
and more every day, as the poem, which I recited to myself, as it were,
in the air, stretched along the paper; and only a few pages from time to
time needed to be re-written.
When the work was done,--for, to my own astonishment, it really came to
an end,--I reflected, that from former years many poems were extant,
which did not even now appear to me utterly despicable, and which, if
written together in the same size with "Joseph," would make a very neat
quarto, to which the title "Miscellaneous Poems" might be given. I was
pleased with this, as it gave me an opportunity of quietly imitating
well-known and celebrated authors. I had composed a good number of so-
called Anacreontic poems, which, on account of the convenience of the
metre, and the lightness of the subject, flowed forth readily enough.
But these I could not well take, as they were not in rhyme; and my
desire before all things was to show my father something that would
please him. So much the more, therefore, did the spiritual odes seem
suitable, which I had very zealously attempted in imitation of the "Last
Judgment" of Elias Schlegel. One of these, written to celebrate the
descent of Christ into hell, received much applause from my parents and
friends, and had the good fortune to please myself for some years
afterwards. The so-called texts of the Sunday church-music, which were
always to be had printed, I studied with diligence. They were, indeed,
very weak; and I could well believe that my verses, of which I had
composed many in the prescribed manner, were equally worthy of being set
to music, and performed for the edification of the congregation. These,
and many like them, I had for more than a year before copied with my own
hand; because through this private exercise I was released from the
copies of the writing-master. Now all were corrected and put in order,
and no great persuasion was needed to have them neatly copied by the
young man who was so fond of writing. I hastened with them to the book-
binder: and when, very soon after, I handed the nice-looking volume to
my father, he encouraged me with peculiar satisfaction to furnish a
similar quarto every year; which he did with the greater conviction, as
I had produced the whole in my spare moments alone.
Another circumstance increased my tendency to these theological, or,
rather, biblical, studies. The senior of the ministry, John Philip
Fresenius, a mild man, of handsome, agreeable appearance, who was
respected by his congregation and the whole city as an exemplary pastor
and good preacher, but who, because he stood forth against the
Herrnhüters, was not in the best odor with the peculiarly pious; while,
on the other hand, he had made himself famous, and almost sacred, with
the multitude, by the conversion of a free-thinking general who had been
mortally wounded,--this man died; and his successor, Plitt, a tall,
handsome, dignified man, who brought from his /chair/ (he had been
a professor in Marburg) the gift of teaching rather than of edifying,
immediately announced a sort of religious course, to which his sermons
were to be devoted in a certain methodical connection. I had already, as
I was compelled to go to church, remarked the distribution of the
subject, and could now and then show myself off by a pretty complete
recitation of a sermon. But now, as much was said in the congregation,
both for and against the new senior, and many placed no great confidence
in his announced didactic sermons, I undertook to write them out more
carefully; and I succeeded the better from having made smaller attempts
in a seat very convenient for hearing, but concealed from sight. I was
extremely attentive and on the alert: the moment he said Amen, I
hastened from church, and spent a couple of hours in rapidly dictating
what I had fixed in my memory and on paper, so that I could hand in the
written sermon before dinner. My father was very proud of this success;
and the good friend of the family, who had just come in to dinner, also
shared in the joy. Indeed, this friend was very well disposed towards
me, because I had made his "Messiah" so much my own, that in my repeated
visits, paid to him with a view of getting impressions of seals for my
collection of coats-of-arms, I could recite long passages from it till
the tears stood in his eyes.
The next Sunday I prosecuted the work with equal zeal; and, as the
mechanical part of it mainly interested me, I did not reflect upon what
I wrote and preserved. During the first quarter these efforts may have
continued pretty much the same; but as I fancied at last, in my self-
conceit, that I found no particular enlightenment as to the Bible, nor
clearer insight into dogmas, the small vanity which was thus gratified
seemed to me too dearly purchased for me to pursue the matter with the
same zeal. The sermons, once so many-leaved, grew more and more lean:
and before long I should have relinquished this labor altogether, if my
father, who was a fast friend to completeness, had not, by words and
promises, induced me to persevere till the last Sunday in Trinity;
though, at the conclusion, scarcely more than the text, the statement,
and the divisions were scribbled on little pieces of paper.
My father was particularly pertinacious on this point of completeness.
What was once undertaken had to be finished, even if the inconvenience,
tedium, vexation, nay, uselessness, of the thing begun were plainly
manifested in the mean time. It seemed as if he regarded completeness as
the only end, and perseverance as the only virtue. If in our family
circle, in the long winter evenings, we had begun to read a book aloud,
we were compelled to finish, though we were all in despair about it, and
my father himself was the first to yawn. I still remember such a winter,
when we had thus to work our way through Bower's "History of the Popes."
It was a terrible time, as little or nothing that occurs in
ecclesiastical affairs can interest children and young people. Still,
with all my inattention and repugnance, so much of that reading remained
in my mind that I was able, in after times, to take up many threads of
the narrative.
Amid all these heterogeneous occupations and labors, which followed each
other so rapidly that one could hardly reflect whether they were
permissible and useful, my father did not lose sight of the main object.
He endeavored to direct my memory and my talent for apprehending and
combining to objects of jurisprudence, and therefore gave me a small
book by Hopp, in the shape of a catechism, and worked up according to
the form and substance of the institutions. I soon learned questions and
answers by heart, and could represent the catechist as well as the
catechumen; and, as in religious instruction at that time, one of the
chief exercises was to find passages in the Bible as readily as
possible; so here a similar acquaintance with the "Corpus Juris" was
found necessary, in which, also, I soon became completely versed. My
father wished me to go on, and the little "Struve" was taken in hand;
but here affairs did not proceed so rapidly. The form of the work was
not so favorable for beginners, that they could help themselves on; nor
was my father's method of illustration so liberal as greatly to interest
me.
Not only by the warlike state in which we lived for some years, but also
by civil life itself, and the perusal of history and romances, was it
made clear to me that there were many cases in which the laws are
silent, and give no help to the individual, who must then see how to get
out of the difficulty by himself. We had now reached the period when,
according to the old routine, we were to learn, besides other things,
fencing and riding, that we might guard our skins upon occasion, and
present no pedantic appearance on horseback. As to the first, the
practice was very agreeable to us; for we had already, long ago,
contrived to make broad-swords out of hazel-sticks, with basket-hilts
neatly woven of willow, to protect the hands. Now we might get real
steel blades, and the clash we made with them was very merry.
There were two fencing-masters in the city: an old, earnest German, who
went to work in a severe and solid style; and a Frenchman, who sought to
gain his advantage by advancing and retreating, and by light, fugitive
thrusts, which he always accompanied by cries. Opinions varied as to
whose manner was the best. The little company with which I was to take
lessons sided with the Frenchman; and we speedily accustomed ourselves
to move backwards and forwards, make passes and recover, always breaking
out into the usual exclamations. But several of our acquaintance had
gone to the German teacher, and practised precisely the opposite. These
distinct modes of treating so important an exercise, the conviction of
each that his master was the best, really caused a dissension among the
young people, who were of about the same age: and the fencing-schools
occasioned serious battles, for there was almost as much fighting with
words as with swords; and, to decide the matter in the end, a trial of
skill between the two teachers was arranged, the consequences of which I
need not circumstantially describe. The German stood in his position
like a wall, watched his opportunity, and contrived to disarm his
opponent over and over again with his cut and thrust. The latter
maintained that this mattered not, and proceeded to exhaust the other's
wind by his agility. He fetched the German several lunges too, which,
however, if they had been in earnest, would have sent him into the next
world.
On the whole, nothing was decided or improved, except that some went
over to our countryman, of whom I was one. But I had already acquired
too much from the first master; and hence a considerable time elapsed
before the new one could break me of it, who was altogether less
satisfied with us renegades than with his original pupils.
With riding I fared still worse. It happened that they sent me to the
course in the autumn, so that I commenced in the cool and damp season.
The pedantic treatment of this noble art was highly repugnant to me.
From first to last, the whole talk was about sitting the horse: and yet
no one could say in what a proper sitting consisted, though all depended
on that; for they went to and fro on the horse without stirrups.
Moreover, the instruction seemed contrived only for cheating and
degrading the scholars. If one forgot to hook or loosen the curb-chain,
or let his switch fall down, or even his hat,--every delay, every
misfortune, had to be atoned for by money; and one was laughed at into
the bargain. This put me in the worst of humors, particularly as I found
the place of exercise itself quite intolerable. The wide, nasty space,
either wet or dusty, the cold, the mouldy smell, all together was in the
highest degree repugnant to me; and since the stable-master always gave
the others the best and me the worst horses to ride,--perhaps because
they bribed him by breakfasts and other gifts, or even by their own
cleverness; since he kept me waiting, and, as it seemed, slighted me,--I
spent the most disagreeable hours in an employment that ought to have
been the most pleasant in the world. Nay, the impression of that time
and of these circumstances has remained with me so vividly, that
although I afterwards became a passionate and daring rider, and for days
and weeks together scarcely got off my horse, I carefully shunned
covered riding-courses, and at least passed only a few moments in them.
The case often happens, that, when the elements of an exclusive art are
taught us, this is done in a painful and revolting manner. The
conviction that this is both wearisome and injurious has given rise, in
later times, to the educational maxim, that the young must be taught
every thing in an easy, cheerful, and agreeable way: from which,
however, other evils and disadvantages have proceeded.
With the approach of spring, times became again more quiet with us; and
if in earlier days I had endeavored to obtain a sight of the city, its
ecclesiastical, civil, public, and private structures, and especially
found great delight in the still prevailing antiquities, I afterwards
endeavored, by means of "Lersner's Chronicle," and other Frankfortian
books and pamphlets belonging to my father, to revive the persons of
past times. This seemed to me to be well attained by great attention to
the peculiarities of times and manners and of distinguished individuals.
Among the ancient remains, that which, from my childhood, had been
remarkable to me, was the skull of a State criminal, fastened up on the
tower of the bridge, who, out of three or four, as the naked iron spikes
showed, had, since 1616, been preserved in spite of the encroachments of
time and weather. Whenever one returned from Sachsenhausen to Frankfort,
one had this tower before one; and the skull was directly in view. As a
boy, I liked to hear related the history of these rebels,--Fettmilch and
his confederates,--how they had become dissatisfied with the government
of the city, had risen up against it, plotted a mutiny, plundered the
Jews' quarter, and excited a fearful riot, but were at last captured,
and condemned to death by a deputy of the emperor. Afterwards I felt
anxious to know the most minute circumstance, and to hear what sort of
people they were. When from an old contemporary book, ornamented with
wood-cuts, I learned, that, while these men had indeed been condemned to
death, many councillors had at the same time been deposed, because
various kinds of disorder and very much that was unwarrantable was then
going on; when I heard the nearer particulars how all took place,--I
pitied the unfortunate persons who might be regarded as sacrifices made
for a future better constitution. For from that time was dated the
regulation which allows the noble old house of Limpurg, the Frauenstein-
house, sprung from a club, besides lawyers, trades-people, and artisans,
to take part in a government, which, completed by a system of ballot,
complicated in the Venetian fashion, and restricted by the civil
colleges, was called to do right, without acquiring any special
privilege to do wrong.
Among the things which excited the misgivings of the boy, and even of
the youth, was especially the state of the Jewish quarter of the city
(/Judenstadt/), properly called the Jew Street (/Judengasse/);
as it consisted of little more than a single street, which in early
times may have been hemmed in between the walls and trenches of the
town, as in a prison (/Zwinger/). The closeness, the filth, the
crowd, the accent of an unpleasant language, altogether made a most
disagreeable impression, even if one only looked in as one passed the
gate. It was long before I ventured in alone; and I did not return there
readily, when I had once escaped the importunities of so many men
unwearied in demanding and offering to traffic. At the same time, the
old legends of the cruelty of the Jews towards Christian children, which
we had seen hideously illustrated in "Gottfried's Chronicle," hovered
gloomily before my young mind. And although they were thought better of
in modern times, the large caricature, still to be seen, to their
disgrace, on an arched wall under the bridge-tower, bore extraordinary
witness against them; for it had been made, not through private ill-
will, but by public order.
However, they still remained the chosen people of God, and passed, no
matter how it came about, as a memorial of the most ancient times.
Besides, they also were men, active and obliging; and, even to the
tenacity with which they clung to their peculiar customs, one could not
refuse one's respect. The girls, moreover, were pretty, and were far
from displeased when a Christian lad, meeting them on the sabbath in the
Fischerfeld, showed himself kindly and attentive. I was consequently
extremely curious to become acquainted with their ceremonies. I did not
desist until I had frequently visited their school, had assisted at a
circumcision and a wedding, and formed a notion of the Feast of the
Tabernacles. Everywhere I was well received, pleasantly entertained, and
invited to come again; for it was through persons of influence that I
had been either introduced or recommended.
Thus, as a young resident in a large city, I was thrown about from one
object to another; and horrible scenes were not wanting in the midst of
the municipal quiet and security. Sometimes a more or less remote fire
aroused us from our domestic peace: sometimes the discovery of a great
crime, with its investigation and punishment, set the whole city in an
uproar for many weeks. We were forced to be witnesses of different
executions; and it is worth remembering, that I was also once present at
the burning of a book. The publication was a French comic romance, which
indeed spared the State, but not religion and manners. There was really
something dreadful in seeing punishment inflicted on a lifeless thing.
The packages burst asunder in the fire, and were raked apart by an oven-
fork, to be brought in closer contact with the flames. It was not long
before the kindled sheets were wafted about in the air, and the crowd
caught at them with eagerness. Nor could we rest until we had hunted up
a copy, while not a few managed likewise to procure the forbidden
pleasure. Nay, if it had been done to give the author publicity, he
could not himself have made a more effectual provision.
But there were also more peaceable inducements which took me about in
every part of the city. My father had early accustomed me to manage for
him his little affairs of business. He charged me particularly to stir
up the laborers whom he set to work, as they commonly kept him waiting
longer than was proper; because he wished every thing done accurately,
and was used in the end to lower the price for a prompt payment. In this
way, I gained access to all the workshops: and as it was natural to me
to enter into the condition of others, to feel every species of human
existence, and sympathize in it with pleasure, these commissions were to
me the occasion of many most delightful hours; and I learned to know
every one's method of proceeding, and what joy and sorrow, what
advantages and hardships, were incident to the indispensable conditions
of this or that mode of life. I was thus brought nearer to that active
class which connects the lower and upper classes. For if on the one side
stand those who are employed in the simple and rude products, and on the
other those who desire to enjoy something that has been already worked
up, the manufacturer, with his skill and hand, is the mediator through
whom the other two receive something from each other: each is enabled to
gratify his wishes in his own way. The household economy of many crafts,
which took its form and color from the occupation, was likewise an
object of my quiet attention; and thus was developed and strengthened in
me the feeling of the equality, if not of all men, yet of all human
conditions,--the mere fact of existence seeming to me the main point,
and all the rest indifferent and accidental.