Germany from the Earliest Period, vol 4 | Page 6

him, there were, besides the French, other nations on which he could model himself, the ancient Greeks and the English, from each of whom he gathered something until he had converted himself into a sort of universal abstract. The great poets, who shortly before and after the seven years' war, put an end to mere partial imitations, were not actuated by a reaction of nationality, but by a sentiment of universality. Their object was, not to oppose the German to the foreign, but simply the human to the single national element, and, although Germany gave them birth, they regarded the whole world equally as their country.
Lessing, by his triumph over the scholastic pedants, completed what Thomasius had begun, by his irresistible criticism drove French taste from the literary arena, aided Winckelmann to promote the study of the ancients and to foster the love of art, and raised the German theatre to an unprecedented height. His native language, in which he always wrote, breathes, even in his most trifling works, a free and lofty spirit, which, fascinating in every age, was more peculiarly so at that emasculated period. He is, however, totally devoid of patriotism. In his "Minna von Barnhelm," he inculcates the finest feelings of honor; his "Nathan" is replete with the wisdom "that cometh from above" and with calm dignity; and in "Emilia Galotti" he has been the first to draw the veil, hitherto respected, from scenes in real life. His life was, like his mind, independent. He scorned to cringe for favor, even disdained letters of recommendation when visiting Italy (Winckelmann had deviated from the truth for the sake of pleasing a patron), contented himself with the scanty lot of a librarian at Wolfenbüttel, and even preferred losing that appointment rather than subject himself to the censorship. He was the boldest, freest, finest spirit of the age.
Herder, although no less noble, was exactly his opposite. Of a soft and yielding temperament, unimaginative, and gifted with little penetration, but with a keen sense of the beautiful in others, he opened to his fellow countrymen with unremitting diligence the literary treasures of foreign nations, ancient classical poetry, that, hitherto unknown, of the East, and rescued from obscurity the old popular poetry of Germany. In his "Ideas of a Philosophical History of Mankind," he attempted to display in rich and manifold variety the moral character of every nation and of every age, and, while thus creating and improving the taste for poetry and history, ever, with childlike piety, sought for and revered God in all his works.
Goethe, with a far richer imagination, possessed the elegance but not the independence of Lessing, all the softness, pathos, and universality of Herder, without his faith. In the treatment and choice of his subjects he is indubitably the greatest poet of Germany, but he was never inspired with enthusiasm except for himself. His personal vanity was excessive. His works, like the lights in his apartment at Weimar, which were skilfully disposed so as to present him in the most favorable manner to his visitors, but artfully reflect upon self. The manner in which he palliated the weaknesses of the heart, the vain inclinations, shared by his contemporaries in common with himself, rendered him the most amiable and popular author of the day. French frivolity and license had long been practiced, but they had also been rebuked. Goethe was the first who gravely justified adultery, rendered the sentimental voluptuary an object of enthusiastic admiration, and deified the heroes of the stage, in whose imaginary fortunes the German forgot sad reality and the wretched fate of his country. His fade assumption of dignity, the art with which he threw the veil of mystery over his frivolous tendencies and made his commonplace ideas pass for something incredibly sublime, naturally met with astonishing success in his wonder-seeking times.
Rousseau's influence, the ideas of universal reform, the example of England, proud and free, but still more, the enthusiasm excited by the American war of independence, inflamed many heads in Germany and raised a poetical opposition, which began with the bold-spirited Schubart, whose liberal opinions threw him into a prison, but whose spirit still breathed in his songs and roused that of his great countryman, Schiller. The first cry of the oppressed people was, by Schiller, repeated with a prophet's voice. In him their woes found an eloquent advocate. Lessing had vainly appealed to the understanding, but Schiller spoke to the heart, and if the seed, sown by him, fell partially on corrupt and barren ground, it found a fostering soil in the warm, unadulterated hearts of the youth of both sexes. He recalled his fellow-men, in those frivolous times, to a sense of self-respect, he restored to innocence the power and dignity of which she had been deprived by ridicule, and