of Goethe bequeathed it to the world. We need not therefore bring down our historical sketch to a point lower than the date here reached.

Briefly now as to the forms or kinds in which the literature thus sketched has appeared.

Unlike the French, and like the English, German literature inclines as naturally to assume the form of verse as it does the form of prose. In epic poetry, however, that is, epic poetry of the first class, it cannot be reckoned rich. The two chief German poems which might claim for themselves the highest epic rank are the Nibelungen Lied and the Messiah of Klopstock; of which the former is rather interesting and remarkable than really great, and of which the latter is remarkable, perhaps, but hardly either great or interesting.

In dramatic poetry German literature is strong; Schiller's single name being sufficient to give it beyond cavil that character. With Schiller's name, however, are to be joined the names, not far unequal to his, of Goethe and of Lessing, as representatives of the drama in Germany. It is to tragedy, rather than to comedy, that the grave German genius instinctively turns to find its favorite dramatic expression. Still, Lessing was witty enough to be a successful writer of comedy. German Molière, there is none; but that he would have liked to be one is a confession of Lessing's.

In lyric poetry German literature may vie with any other literature, either of ancient or of modern times. What battle peans are finer than Körner's? What strains of patriotism more spirit-stirring, or more pathetic, than Körner's, Arndt's, Uhland's? What love-ditties sweeter than the best of Goethe's and the best of Heine's? What songs of sentiment tenderer than those which any one of these masters of the German lyre upon occasion sings? And finally, what hymns of worship nobler than a few at least which Luther and Paul Gerhardt have led the whole Christian Church in lifting up on high?

If we go now from verse to prose, we light at once upon a kind of literature in which German prose and German verse find common ground, and in which German literature easily surpasses every other national literature in the world. We refer to the literature of folk-lore: the traditionary tale, the fairy story, the popular myth, the romance of the supernatural. Goethe speaks of the "eternal womanly." So we might speak of the "eternal child-like,” and predicate this as a common characteristic of the German mind. And of the German child-likeness of genius there is no better expression than that found in its "Märchen," so-called; a class of stories in which the improbable, the whimsical, the weird, the ghostly, the grotesque, runs riot without check. The brothers Grimm are universally known as masters in this kind. Goethe, who loved to try his hand at whatever man could do, wrote Märchen. So did Tieck, so did Hoffman.

In history-to make the transition now from the world of fancy to the world of fact-in history, considered as science and as philosophy, Germans have long been pioneers, discoverers, leaders, marching in the van and forefront of the world; but in history, considered as literature, they are not proportionately conspicuous. The historians Niebuhr, Ne. ander, Ranke, Mommsen, are great names; but even Mommsen, the most brilliant writer of the four, is less brilliant as a writer than he is profound and exhaustive as an historical scholar. And it is curious, almost paradoxical, that of the brilliancy which does belong to him as a writer, a large part is the brilliancy of the advocate and the sentimentalist, rather than the brilliancy of the narrator. Respecting Schiller, it may be said that it is chiefly his fame as poet that keeps up his credit as historian.

In criticism, Germany again takes high rank-the very highest, perhaps, according to what is now accepted as the wisest current opinion. This remark applies to criticism in that wide sense of the word which includes criticism of art, as well as criticism of literature. Winckelmann, Lessing, Herder, Schlegel, Humboldt, Goethe, are held to have ad

vanced the work of the critic from mere empiricism to the dignity of a science and a philosophy.

In metaphysics, in psychology, in speculative theology, and in exact scholarship as well, there have always been found Germans to take great delight and to achieve remarkable results. There are, in the realm of pure thought, no names, ancient or modern, mightier than Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Schelling. German theologians we need not name, nor German scholars. But, as has already been hinted, the results of such intellectual activity have not often been presented to the world by Germans in form to constitute elegant literature.

There is one kind of literature in which Germans have always been singularly weak, and that is the literature of public discourse, eloquence, oratory. Whether it is due to fault in the language, to defect in the national genius, or to infelicity of historical circumstance, the fact remains, that there is absolutely almost no great oratory in German literature. If Luther is not the only exception, we at least can not name any other. With the growth of freedom in Germany, perhaps, this will change. But which is it that produces the other? Does freedom give birth to eloquence? Or is it eloquence that gives birth to freedom?

So much for the different recognized species or forms in which German literature has appeared.

In the course of its appearing in these various forms, German literature has exhibited certain exterior peculiarities of which something has been already incidentally said in preceding pages. We may perhaps usefully resume and supplement the suggestions thus made.

The abundance of books in German, the comparative scarcity of German books highly admirable at once for matter and for form, the lateness of German literature in beginning, the interruptedness of its subsequent history, are points which have been sufficiently remarked.

A further point attracting attention in the present survey is the dependent, imitative, parasitic disposition constantly

manifested by the Germans in their literature. Menzel reckons five different epidemics of literary imitation in Germany, which he names in order-a Gallomania, a Græcomania, an Anglomania, a New Anglomania, a New Gallomania.

Another noteworthy thing is the tendency, at once quarrelsome and social, prevalent among German writers, to classify and cluster themselves in mutually conflicting local schools or coteries. There were the Göttingen group, the Leipsic group, the Hamburg group, the Zurich group, the Silesian, earlier and later, the Swabian, and, greater than any other, greater than all others, the Weimar group. The associative tendency thus pointed out may be referred to the same originating cause with the national tendency spoken of to follow foreign models in literature. Both tendencies probably sprang, we will not say from weakness, but from a sense of weakness, in the German mind, an instinctive feminine leaning toward exterior support.

It is possible, however, looking to a still different peculiarity, yet to be named-a peculiarity very profoundly qualifying German literature-to find an alternative explanation, one more honorable to the national intellect, for the extraordinary tendency characteristic of German authors to attach themselves to one another in groups, and to addict themselves to foreign literary leaders. The quest, however, of this alternative explanation carries us over from a consideration of the exterior, to a consideration of the interior, characteristics of German literature. Let us then take, finally, some account of those fundamental traits which make up what we may call the national literary idiosyncrasy of Germans.

One of the most distinctive and most admirable gifts belonging to the national genius of Germany is its unrivaled catholic capacity to recognize and appreciate intellectual merit abroad as well as at home; in fact, indifferently, wherever found, no matter in what age or what race of mankind. German literary admiration is the least jealously patriotic, the most open-heartedly hospitable, the most cosmopolitan,

in the world. Beyond all other men, Germans believe in intellectual free-trade. With them there is no restriction to the commerce of ideas. Breadth, generosity, welcome, is accordingly a legend covering the whole face of German literature.

Nearly allied to this embracing catholicity of literary spirit, on the part of the Germans, is a trait, to be additionally reckoned, of their intellectual character, namely, their passion for philosophy. This passion is with Germans a universally penetrating literary influence. It makes them wish to be deep, to go to the bottom of things; it makes them wish to be broad, to work with a radius long enough to sweep their circumference around every thing knowableand unknowable, too, for that matter. The Germans are often credited with having been the first to ground literary criticism in principles of philosophy. The "philosophy of history" is, if we mistake not, a German phrase, whether or not, also, a German idea.

Once more. Profound thinking and broad thinking imply free thinking. Freedom of thought, accordingly-paradoxical though it be to make the assertion-is as salient a thing in German literature as is imitativeness of literary form. Freedom-in fact, intrepidity-in thinking, intrepidity carried not seldom to the verge of foolhardy, eccentric caprice, is a characteristic of the German mind. We shall not exceed the truth to say that Germany, in the realm of ideas, leads the van of the world; leads, but, alas, too often misleads. It was, we suppose, in part for the purpose of expressing this leadership of his country in thought, that Richter once, with a humor which probably had for its author a tinge of patriotic pathos in it (it was the time of nadir, or near it, in the national humiliation of Germany), remarked, “Providence has assigned to France the empire of the earth, to England the empire of the ocean, and to Germany the empire of-the air!"

The present writer lately, in quoting this remark of Jean Paul's, was surprised and confounded by a straightfor