the Germans sought everywhere. They had handled few national subjects,
or none at all. Schlegel's "Hermann" only showed the way. The idyllic
tendency extended itself without end. The want of distinctive character
with Gessner, with all his great gracefulness and child-like heartiness,
made every one think that he could do something of the same kind. Just
in the same manner, out of the more generally human, some snatch those
poems which should have portrayed a foreign nationality, as, for
instance, the Jewish pastoral poems, those on the patriarchs altogether,
and whatever else related to the Old Testament. Bodmer's "Noachide" was
a perfect symbol of the watery deluge that swelled high around the
German Parnassus, and which abated but slowly. The leading-strings of
Anacreon likewise allowed innumerable mediocre geniuses to reel about at
large. The precision of Horace compelled the Germans, though but slowly,
to conform to him. Comic heroic poems, mostly after the model of Pope's
"Rape of the Lock," did not serve to bring in a better time.
I must here mention a delusion, which operated as seriously as it must
be ridiculous when one examines it more closely. The Germans had now
sufficient historical knowledge of all the kinds of poetry in which the
different nations had distinguished themselves. This pigeon-hole work,
which, properly speaking, totally destroys the inner conception of
poetry, had been already pretty completely hammered together by
Gottsched in his "Critical Art of Poetry;" and it had been shown at the
same time that German poets, too, had already known how to fill up all
the rubrics with excellent works. And thus it ever went on. Each year
the collection was more considerable, but every year one work pushed
another out of the place in which it had hitherto shone. We now
possessed, if not Homers, yet Virgils and Miltons; if not a Pindar, yet
a Horace; of Theocrituses there was no lack: and thus they weighed
themselves by comparisons from without; whilst the mass of poetical
works always increased, so that at last there could be a comparison from
within.
Now though matters of taste stood on a very uncertain footing, there
could be no dispute but that, within the Protestant part of Germany and
of Switzerland, what is generally called common sense began to stir
briskly at that epoch. The scholastic philosophy--which always has the
merit of propounding according to received axioms, in a favorite order,
and under fixed rubrics, every thing about which man can at all inquire-
-had, by the frequent darkness and apparent uselessness of its subject-
matter, by its unseasonable application of a method in itself
respectable, and by its too great extension over so many subjects, made
itself foreign to the mass, unpalatable, and at last superfluous. Many a
one became convinced that nature had endowed him with as great a portion
of good and straightforward sense as, perchance, he required to form
such a clear notion of objects that he could manage them and turn them
to his own profit, and that of others, without laboriously troubling
himself about the most universal problems, and inquiring how the most
remote things which do not particularly affect us may hang together. Men
made the trial, opened their eyes, looked straight before them,
observant, industrious, active, and believed, that, when one judges and
acts correctly in one's own circle, one may well presume to speak of
other things also, which lie at a greater distance.
In accordance with such a notion, every one was now entitled, not only
to philosophize, but also by degrees to consider himself a philosopher.
Philosophy, therefore, was more or less sound, and practised common
sense, which ventured to enter upon the universal, and to decide upon
inner and outer experiences. A clear-sighted acuteness and an especial
moderation, while the middle path and fairness to all opinions was held
to be right, procured respect and confidence for writings and oral
statements of the sort; and thus at last philosophers were found in all
the faculties,--nay, in all classes and trades.
In this way the theologians could not help inclining to what is called
natural religion; and, when the discussion was how far the light of
nature may suffice to advance us in the knowledge of God and the
improving and ennobling of ourselves, they commonly ventured to decide
in its favor without much scruple. According to the same principle of
moderation, they then granted equal rights to all positive religions, by
which they all became alike indifferent and uncertain. For the rest,
they let every thing stand; and since the Bible is so full of matter,
that, more than any other book, it offers material for reflection and
opportunity for meditation on human affairs, it could still, as before,
be always laid as the foundation of all sermons and other religious
treatises.
But over this work, as well as over the whole body of profane writers,
was impending a singular fate, which, in the lapse of time, was not to
be averted. Hitherto it had been received as a matter of implicit faith,
that this book of books was composed in one spirit; that it was even
inspired, and, as it were, dictated by the Divine Spirit. Yet for a long
time already the discrepancies of the different parts of it had been now
cavilled at, now apologized for, by believers and unbelievers. English,
French, and Germans had attacked the Bible with more or less violence,
acuteness, audacity, and wantonness; and just as often had it been taken
under the protection of earnest, sound-thinking men of each nation. As
for myself, I loved and valued it; for almost to it alone did I owe my
moral culture: and the events, the doctrines, the symbols, the similes,
had all impressed themselves deeply upon me, and had influenced me in
one way or another. These unjust, scoffing, and perverting attacks,
therefore, disgusted me; but people had already gone so far as very
willingly to admit, partly as a main ground for the defense of many
passages, that God had accommodated himself to the modes of thought and
power of comprehension in men; that even those moved by the Spirit had
not on that account been able to renounce their character, their
individuality, and that Amos, a cow-herd, did not use the language of
Isaiah, who is said to have been a prince.
Out of such views and convictions, especially with a constantly
increasing knowledge of languages, was very naturally developed that
kind of study by which it was attempted to examine more accurately the
Oriental localities, nationalities, natural products, and phenomena, and
in this manner to make present to one's self that ancient time.
Michaelis employed the whole strength of his talents and his knowledge
on this side. Descriptions of travels became a powerful help in
explaining the Holy Scriptures; and later travellers, furnished with
numerous questions, were made, by the answers to them, to bear witness
for the prophets and apostles.
But whilst they were on all sides busied to bring the Holy Scriptures to
a natural intuition, and to render peculiar modes of thought and
representation in them more universally comprehensible, that by this
historico-critical aspect many an objection might be removed, many
offensive things effaced, and many a shallow scoffing be made
ineffective, there appeared in some men just the opposite disposition,
since these chose the darkest, most mysterious, writings as the subject
of their meditations, and wished, if not to elucidate them, yet to
confirm them through internal evidence, by means of conjectures,
calculations, and other ingenious and strange combinations, and, so far
as they contained prophecies, to prove them by the results, and thus to
justify a faith in what was next to be expected.
The venerable Bengel had procured a decided reception for his labors on
the Revelation of St. John, from the fact that he was known as an
intelligent, upright, God-fearing, blameless man. Deep minds are
compelled to live in the past as well as in the future. The ordinary
movements of the world can be of no importance to them, if they do not,
in the course of ages up to the present, revere prophecies which have
been revealed, and in the immediate, as well as in the most remote
futurity, predictions still veiled. Hence arises a connection that is
wanting in history, which seems to give us only an accidental wavering
backwards and forwards in a necessarily limited circle. Doctor Crusius
was one of those whom the prophetic part of Scripture suited more than
any other, since it brings into action the two most opposite qualities
of human nature, the affections, and the acuteness of the intellect.
Many young men had devoted themselves to this doctrine, and already
formed a respectable body, which attracted the more attention, as
Ernesti with his friends threatened, not to illuminate, but completely
to disperse, the obscurity in which these delighted. Hence arose
controversies, hatred, persecution, and much that was unpleasant. I
attached myself to the lucid party, and sought to appropriate to myself
their principles and advantages; although I ventured to forebode, that
by this extremely praiseworthy, intelligent method of interpretation,
the poetic contents of the writings must at last be lost along with the
prophetical.
But those who devoted themselves to German literature and the /belles-
lettres/ were more nearly concerned with the efforts of such men,
who, as Jerusalem, Zollikofer, and Spalding, tried, by means of a good
and pure style in their sermons and treatises, to gain, even among
persons of a certain degree of sense and taste, applause and attachment
for religion, and for the moral philosophy which is so closely related
to it. A pleasing manner of writing began to be necessary everywhere;
and since such a manner must, above all, be comprehensible, so did
writers arise, on many sides, who undertook to write about their studies
and their professions clearly, perspicuously, and impressively, and as
well for the adepts as for the multitude.
After the example of Tissot, a foreigner, the physicians also now began
to labor zealously for the general cultivation. Haller, Unzer,
Zimmerman, had a very great influence; and whatever may be said against
them in detail, especially the last, they produced a very great effect
in their time. And mention should be made of this in history, but
particularly in biography; for a man remains of consequence, not so far
as he leaves something behind him, but so far as he acts and enjoys, and
rouses others to action and enjoyment.
The jurists, accustomed from their youth upward to an abstruse style,
which, in all legal papers, from the petty court of the Immediate Knight
up to the Imperial Diet at Ratisbon, was still maintained in all its
quaintness, could not easily elevate themselves to a certain freedom,
the less so as the subjects of which they had to treat were most
intimately connected with the external form, and consequently also with
the style. But the younger Von Moser had already shown himself an
independent and original writer; and Putter, by the clearness of his
delivery, had also brought clearness into his subject, and the style in
which he was to treat it. All that proceeded from his school was
distinguished by this. And even the philosophers, in order to be
popular, now found themselves compelled to write clearly and
intelligibly. Mendelssohn and Garve appeared, and excited universal
interest and admiration.
With the cultivation of the German language and style in every
department, the capacity for forming a judgment also increased, and we
admire the reviews then published of works upon religious and moral, as
well as medical, subjects; while, on the contrary, we remark that the
judgments of poems, and of whatever else may relate to the /belles-
lettres/, will be found, if not pitiful, at least very feeble. This
holds good of the "Literary Epistles" ("Literaturbriefen"), and of "The
Universal German Library," as well as of "The Library of the Belles-
Lettres," notable instances of which could easily be produced.
No matter in how motley a manner all this might be confused, still, for
every one who contemplated producing any thing from himself,--who would
not merely take the words and phrases out of the mouths of his
predecessors,--there was nothing further left but, early and late, to
look about him for some subject-matter which he might determine to use.
Here, too, we were much led astray. People were constantly repeating a
saying of Kleist, which we had to hear often enough. He had sportively,
ingeniously, and truly replied to those who took him to task on account
of his frequent, lonely walks, "that he was not idle at such times,--he
was going to the image-hunt." This simile was very suitable for a
nobleman and soldier, who by it placed himself in contrast with the men
of his rank, who did not neglect going out, with their guns on their
shoulders, hare-hunting and partridge-shooting, as often as an
opportunity presented itself. Hence we find in Kleist's poems many such
individual images, happily seized, although not always happily
elaborated, which, in a kindly manner, remind us of nature. But now they
also recommended us, quite seriously, to go out on the image-hunt, which
did not at last leave us wholly without fruit; although Apel's garden,
the kitchen-gardens, the Rosenthal, Golis, Raschwitz, and Konnewitz,
would be the oddest ground to beat up poetical game in. And yet I was
often induced by that motive to contrive that my walk should be
solitary; and because many objects neither beautiful nor sublime met the
eye of the beholder, and, in the truly splendid Rosenthal, the gnats, in
the best season of the year, allowed no tender thoughts to arise, so did
I, by unwearied, persevering endeavor, become extremely attentive to the
small life of nature (I would use this word after the analogy of "still
life"); and, since the pretty events which one perceives within this
circle represent but little in themselves, so I accustomed myself to see
in them a significance, which inclined now towards the symbolical, now
towards the allegorical, side, accordingly as intuition, feeling, or
reflection had the preponderance. I will relate one incident in place of
many.
I was, after the fashion of humanity, in love with my name, and, as
young, uneducated people commonly do, wrote it down everywhere. Once I
had carved it very handsomely and accurately on the smooth bark of a
linden-tree of moderate age. The following autumn, when my affection for
Annette was in its fullest bloom, I took the trouble to cut hers above
it. Towards the end of the winter, in the mean time, like a capricious
lover, I had wantonly sought many opportunities to tease her and cause
her vexation: in the spring I chanced to visit the spot; and the sap,
which was rising strongly in the trees, had welled out through the
incisions which formed her name, and which were not yet crusted over,
and moistened with innocent vegetable tears the already hardened traces
of my own. Thus to see her here weeping over me,--me, who had so often
called up her tears by my ill conduct, filled me with confusion. At the
remembrance of my injustice and of her love, even the tears came into my
eyes; I hastened to implore pardon of her, doubly and trebly: and I
turned this incident into an idyl, [Footnote: Die Laune des Verliebten,
translated as The Lover's Caprice, see p. 241.] which I never could read
to myself without affection, or to others without emotion.
While I now, like a shepherd on the Pleisse, was absorbed childishly
enough in such tender subjects, and always chose only such as I could
easily recall into my bosom, provision from a greater and more important
side had long been made for German poets.
The first true and really vital material of the higher order came into
German poetry through Frederick the Great and the deeds of the Seven
Years' War. All national poetry must be shallow or become shallow which
does not rest on that which is most universally human,--upon the events
of nations and their shepherds, when both stand for one man. Kings are
to be represented in war and danger, where, by that very means, they
appear as the first, because they determine and share the fate of the
very least, and thus become much more interesting than the gods
themselves, who, when they have once determined the fates, withdraw from
all participation in them. In this view of the subject, every nation, if
it would be worth any thing at all, must possess an epopee, to which the
precise form of the epic poem is not necessary.
The war-songs started by Gleim maintain so high a rank among German
poems, because they arose with and in the achievements which are their
subject; and because, moreover, their felicitous form, just as if a
fellow-combatant had produced them in the loftiest moments, makes us
feel the most complete effectiveness.
Ramler sings the deeds of his king in a different and most noble manner.
All his poems are full of matter, and occupy us with great, heart-
elevating objects, and thus already maintain an indestructible value.
For the internal matter of the subject treated is the beginning and end
of art. It will not, indeed, be denied that genius, that thoroughly
cultivated artistical talent, can make every thing out of every thing by
its method of treatment, and can subdue the most refractory material.
But, when closely examined, the result is rather a trick of art than a
work of art, which should rest upon a worthy object, that the treatment
of it, by skill, pains, and industry, may present to us the dignity of
the subject-matter only the more happily and splendidly.
The Prussians, and with them Protestant Germany, acquired thus for their
literature a treasure which the opposite party lacked, and the want of
which they have been able to supply by no subsequent endeavors. Upon the
great idea which the Prussian writers might well entertain of their
king, they first established themselves, and the more zealously as he,
in whose name they did it all, wished once for all to know nothing about
them. Already before this, through the French colony, afterwards through
the king's predilection for the literature of that nation and for their
financial institutions, had a mass of French civilization come into
Prussia, which was highly advantageous to the Germans, since by it they
were challenged to contradiction and resistance; thus the very aversion
of Frederick from German was a fortunate thing for the formation of its
literary character. They did every thing to attract the king's
attention, not indeed to be honored, but only noticed, by him; yet they
did it in German fashion, from an internal conviction; they did what
they held to be right, and desired and wished that the king should
recognize and prize this German uprightness. That did not and could not
happen; for how can it be required of a king, who wishes to live and
enjoy himself intellectually, that he shall lose his years in order to
see what he thinks barbarous developed and rendered palatable too late?
In matters of trade and manufacture, he might indeed force upon himself,
but especially upon his people, very moderate substitutes instead of
excellent foreign wares; but here every thing comes to perfection more
rapidly, and it needs not a man's life-time to bring such things to
maturity.
But I must here, first of all, make honorable mention of one work, the
most genuine production of the Seven Years' War, and of perfect North-
German nationality: it is the first theatrical production caught from
the important events of life, one of specific, temporary value, and one
which therefore produced an incalculable effect,--"Minna von Barnhelm."
Lessing, who, in opposition to Klopstock and Gleim, was fond of casting
off his personal dignity, because he was confident that he could at any
moment grasp and take it up again, delighted in a dissipated life in
taverns and the world, as he always needed a strong counterpoise to his
powerfully laboring interior; and for this reason, also, he had joined
the suite of Gen. Tauentzien. One easily discovers how the above-
mentioned piece was generated betwixt war and peace, hatred and
affection. It was this production which happily opened the view into a
higher, more significant, world, from the literary and citizen world in
which poetic art had hitherto moved.
The intense hatred in which the Prussians and Saxons stood towards each
other during this war could not be removed by its termination. The Saxon
now first felt, with true bitterness, the wounds which the upstart
Prussian had inflicted upon him. Political peace could not immediately
re-establish a peace between their dispositions. But this was to be
brought about symbolically by the above-mentioned drama. The grace and
amiability of the Saxon ladies conquer the worth, the dignity, and the
stubbornness of the Prussians; and, in the principal as well as in the
subordinate characters, a happy union of bizarre and contradictory
elements is artistically represented.
If I have put my reader in some perplexity by these cursory and
desultory remarks on German literature, I have succeeded in giving them
a conception of that chaotic condition in which my poor brain found
itself, when, in the conflict of two epochs so important for the
literary fatherland, so much that was new crowded in upon me before I
could come to terms with the old, so much that was old yet made me feel
its right over me, when I believed I had already cause to venture on
renouncing it altogether. I will at present try to impart, as well as
possible, the way I entered on to extricate myself from this difficulty,
if only step by step.
The period of prolixity into which my youth had fallen, I had labored
through with genuine industry, in company with so many worthy men. The
numerous quarto volumes of manuscript which I left behind with my father
might serve for sufficient witnesses of this; and what a mass of essays,
rough draughts, and half-executed designs, had, more from despondency
than conviction, gone up in smoke! Now, through conversation, through
instruction in general, through so many conflicting opinions, but
especially through my fellow-boarder Hofrath Pfeil, I learned to value
more and more the importance of the subject-matter and the conciseness
of the treatment; without, however, being able to make it clear to
myself where the former was to be sought, or how the latter was to be
attained. For, what with the great narrowness of my situation; what with
the indifference of my companions, the reserve of the professors, the
exclusiveness of the educated inhabitants; and what with the perfect
insignificance of the natural objects,--I was compelled to seek for
every thing within myself. Whenever I desired a true basis in feeling or
reflection for my poems, I was forced to grasp into my own bosom;
whenever I required for my poetic representation an immediate intuition
of an object or an event, I could not step outside the circle which was
fitted to teach me, and inspire me with an interest. In this view I
wrote at first certain little poems, in the form of songs or in a freer
measure: they are founded on reflection, treat of the past, and for the
most part take an epigrammatic turn.
And thus began that tendency from which I could not deviate my whole
life through; namely, the tendency to turn into an image, into a poem,
every thing that delighted or troubled me, or otherwise occupied me, and
to come to some certain understanding with myself upon it, that I might
both rectify my conceptions of external things, and set my mind at rest
about them. The faculty of doing this was necessary to no one more than
to me, for my natural disposition whirled me constantly from one extreme
to the other. All, therefore, that has been confessed by me, consists of
fragments of a great confession; and this little book is an attempt
which I have ventured on to render it complete.