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CARLYLE'S

MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS.

JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER.

[EDINBURGH REVIEW, 1827.]

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DR. JOHNSON, it is said, when he first heard | monger, whose grand enterprise, however, is of Boswell's intention to write a life of him, his Gallery of Weimar Authors; a series of announced, with decision enough, that, if he strange little biographies, beginning with Schilthought Boswell really meant to write his life, ler, and already extending over Wieland and he would prevent it by taking Boswell's! That Herder,-now comprehending, probably by great authors should actually employ this pre- conquest, Klopstock also, and lastly, by a sort ventive against bad biographers is a thing we of droit d'aubaine, Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, would by no means recommend; but the truth neither of whom belonged to Weimar. Auis, that, rich as we are in biography, a well-thors, it must be admitted, are happier than the written life is almost as rare as a well-spent old painter with his cocks: for they write, naone; and there are certainly many more men turally and without fear of ridicule or offence, whose history deserves to be recorded than the name and description of their work on the persons willing and able to furnish the record. title-page; and thenceforth the purport and But great men, like the old Egyptian kings, tendency of each volume remains indisputable. must all be tried after death, before they Doering is sometimes lucky in this privilege; can be embalmed: and what, in truth, are for his manner of composition, being so pecuthese "Sketches," "Anas," "Conversations," liar, might now and then occasion difficulty, "Voices," and the like, but the votes and plead- but for this precaution. His biographies he ings of the ill-informed advocates, and jurors, works up simply enough. He first ascertains, and judges, from whose conflict, however, we from the Leipzig Conversationslexicon or Jörshall in the end have a true verdict? The worst den's Poetical Lexicon, Flögel, or Koch, or other of it is at the first; for weak eyes are precisely such Compendium or Handbook, the aate and the fondest of glittering objects. And, accord-place of the proposed individual's birth, his ingly, no sooner does a great man depart, and leave his character as public property, than a crowd of little men rushes towards it. There they are gathered together, blinking up to it with such vision as they have, scanning it from afar, hovering round it this way and that, each cunningly endeavouring, by all arts, to catch some reflex of it in the little mirror of himself; though, many times, this mirror is so twisted with convexities and concavities, and, indeed, so extremely small in size, that to expect any true image, or any image whatever from it, is out of the question.

Richter was much better-natured than Johnson; and took many provoking things with the spirit of a humorist and philosopher; nor can we think that so good a man, even had he foreseen this work of Doering's, would have gone the length of assassinating him for it. Doering is a person we have known for several years, as a compiler, and translator, and ballad

* Jean Paul Friedrich Richter's Leben, nebst Characteristik seiner Werke; von Heinrich Doering. (Jean Paul Friedrich Richter's Life, with a Sketch of his Works; by Heinrich Doering.) Gotha. Hennings, 1826. 12mo.

pp. 208.

parentage, trade, appointments, and the titles of his works; (the date of his death you already know from the newspapers;) this surves as a foundation for the edifice. He then goes through his writings, and all other writings where he or his pursuits are treated of, and whenever he finds a passage with his name in it, he cuts it out, and carries it away. In this manner a mass of materials is collected, and the building now proceeds apace. Stone is laid on the top of stone, just as it comes to hand; a trowel or two of biographic mortar, if perfectly convenient, being perhaps spread in here and there, by way of cement; and so the strangest pile suddenly arises; amorphous, pointing every way but to the zenith,-here a block of granite, there a mass of pipe-clay; till the whole finishes, when the materials are finished,—and you leave it standing to posterity, like some miniature Stonehenge, a perfect architectural enigma.

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To speak without figure, this mode of lifewriting has its disadvantages. For one thing, the composition cannot well be what the critics call harmonious; and, indeed, Herr Doering's transitions are often abrupt enough. His hero

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changes his object and occupation from page | rating (decidedly in bombast) over the grave.

Then, it seems, there were meetings held in various parts of Germany, to solemnize the memory of Richter; among the rest, one in the Museum of Frankfort on the Maine; where a Doctor Börne speaks another long speech, if possible in still more decided bombast. Next come threnodies from all the four winds, mostly on very splay-footed metre. Thewhole of which is here snatched from the kind oblivion of the newspapers, and "lives in Settle's numbers one day more."

to page, often from sentence to sentence, in the most unaccountable way; a pleasure journey, and a sickness of fifteen years, are despatched with equal brevity; in a moment you find him married, and the father of three fine children. He dies no less suddenly;—he is studying as usual, writing poetry, receiving visits, full of life and business, when instantly some paragraph opens under him, like one of the trap doors in the Vision of Mirza, and he drops, without note of preparation, into the shades below. Perhaps, indeed, not for ever: we have instances of his rising after the funeral, and winding up his affairs. The time has been, that when the brains were out the man would die; but Doering orders these matters dif-hibit in the epicedial style. They rather tesferently.

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We have too much reverence for the name of Richter to think of laughing over these unhappy threnodies and panegyrists; some of whom far exceed any thing we English can ex

tify, however maladroitly, that the Germans have felt their loss,-which, indeed, is one to Europe at large; they even affect us with a certain melancholy feeling, when we consider how a heavenly voice must become mute, and nothing be heard in its stead but the whoop of quite earthly voices, lamenting, or pretending to lament. Far from us be all remembrance of Doering and Company, while we speak of Richter! But his own works give us some glimpses into his singular and noble nature; and to our readers a few words on this man, certainly one of the most remarkable of his age, will not seem thrown away.

We beg leave to say, however, that we really have no private pique against Doering: on the contrary, we are regular purchasers of his ware; and it gives us true pleasure to see his spirits so much improved since we first met him. In the Life of Schiller, his state did seem rather unprosperous: he wore a timorous, submissive, and downcast aspect, as if like Sterne's Ass, he were saying, "Don't thrash me ;-but if you will, you may!" Now, however, comforted by considerable sale, and praise from this and the other Literaturblatt, which has commended his diligence, his fidelity, and, strange to say, his method, he advances with Except by name, Jean Paul Friedrich Richerect countenance and firm hoof, and even re-ter is little known out of Germany. The only calcitrates contemptuously against such as do thing connected with him, we think, that has him offence. Glück auf dem Weg! is the worst reached this country, is his saying, imported we wish him. by Madame de Staël, and thankfully pocketed by most newspaper critics: "Providence has given to the French the empire of the land, to the English that of the sea, to the Germans that of-the air!" Of this last element, indeed, his own genius might easily seem to have been a denizen: so fantastic, many-coloured, far-grasp

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Of his Life of Richter, these preliminary observations may be our excuse for saying but little. He brags much, in his preface, that it is all true and genuine; for Richter's widow, it seems, had, by public advertisement, cautioned the world against it; another biography, partly by the illustrious deceased himself, part-ing, every way perplexed and extraordinary in ly by Otto, his oldest friend and the appointed his mode of writing, that to translate him is next editor of his works, being actually in prepara- to impossible; nay, a dictionary of his works tion. This rouses the indignant spirit of Doer- has actually been in part published for the use ing, and he stoutly asseverates, that, his docu- of German readers! These things have rements being altogether authentic, this biogra- stricted his sphere of action, and may long rephy is no pseudo-biography. With greater truth strict it to his own country: but there, in rehe might have asseverated that it was no bio-turn, he is a favourite of the first class; studied graphy at all. Well are he and Hennings of Gotha aware that this thing of shreds and patches has been vamped together for sale only. Except a few letters to Kunz, the Bamberg bookseller, which turn mainly on the purchase of spectacles, and the journeyings and freightage of two boxes that used to pass and repass between Richter and Kunz's circulating library; with three or four notes of similar importance, and chiefly to other booksellers, there are no biographical documents here, which were not open to all Europe as well as to Heinrich Doering. Indeed, very nearly one-half of the Life is occupied with a description of the funeral and its appendages,-how the "sixty torches, with a number of lanterns and pitch- The biography of so distinguished a person pans," were arranged; how this patrician or pro- could scarcely fail to be interesting, especialfessor followed that, through Friedrich-street, ly his autobiography; which, accordingly, we Chancery-street, and other streets of Bayreuth; and how at last the torches all went out, as Doctor Gabler and Doctor Spatzier were pero

through all his intricacies with trustful admiration, and a love which tolerates much. During the last forty years, he has been continually before the public, in various capacities, and growing generally in esteem with all ranks of critics; till, at length, his gainsayers have been either silenced or convinced; and Jean Paul, at first reckoned half-mad, has long ago vindicated his singularities to nearly universal satisfaction, and now combines popularity with real depth of endowment, in perhaps a greater degree than any other writer; being second in the latter point to scarcely more than one of his contemporaries, and in the former second to none.

wait for, and may in time submit to our readers, if it seem worthy: meanwhile, the history of his life, so far as outward events characterize

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the streets of Bayreuth, we have heard, he was seldom seen without a flower in his breast. A man of quiet tastes, and warm, compassionate affections! His friends he must have loved as few do. Of his poor and humble mother he often speaks by allusion, and never without reverence and overflowing tenderness. "Un

mother has not made all other mothers venerable !" and elsewhere: O thou who hast still a father and a mother, thank God for it in the day when thy soul is full of joyful tears, and needs a bosom wherein to shed them!" We quote the following sentences from Doering, almost the only memorable thing he has written in this volume:

it, may be stated in few words. He was born at Wunsiedél in Bayreuth, in March, 1763. His father was a subaltern teacher in the Gymnasium of the place, and was afterwards promoted to be clergyman at Schwarzbach on the Saale. Richter's early education was of the scantiest sort; but his fine faculties and unwearied diligence supplied every defect. Un-happy is the man," says he, " for whom his own able to purchase books, he borrowed what he could come at, and transcribed from them, often great part of their contents,-a habit of excerpting, which continued with him through life, and influenced, in more than one way, his mode of writing and study. To the last, he was an insatiable and universal reader; so that his extracts accumulated on his hands, "till they filled whole chests." In 1780, he "Richter's studying or sitting apartment ofwent to the University of Leipzig; with the fered, about this time, (1793,) a true and beauhighest character, in spite of the impediments tiful emblem of his simple and noble way of which he had struggled with, for talent and ac- thought, which comprehended at once the high quirement. Like his father, he was destined and the low. Whilst his mother, who then for Theology; from which, however, his va- lived with him, busily pursued her household grant genius soon diverged into Poetry and Phi- work, occupying herself about stove and dreslosophy, to the neglect, and, ere long, to the ser, Jean Paul was sitting in a corner of the final abandonment, of his appointed profession. same room, at a simple writing-desk, with few Not well knowing what to do, he now accepted or no books about him, but merely with one a tutorship in some family of rank; then he or two drawers containing excerpts and manuhad pupils in his own house,-which, how-scripts. The jingle of the household operations ever, like his way of life, he often changed; for by this time he had become an author, and, in his wanderings over Germany, was putting forth, now here, now there, the strangest books, with the strangest titles: For instance,— Greenland Lawsuits-Biographical Recreations under the Cranium of a Giantess;-Selection from the Papers of the Devil;-and the like. In these indescribable performances, the splendid faculties of the writer, luxuriating as they seemed in utter riot, could not be disputed; nor, with all its extravagance, the fundamental strength, honesty, and tenderness of his nature. Genius will reconcile'men to much. By degrees, Jean Paul began to be considered not a strange, crackbrained mixture of enthusiast and buffoon, but a man of infinite humour, sensibility, force, and penetration. His writings procured him friends and fame; and at length a wife and a settled provision. With Caroline Mayer, his good spouse, and a pension (in 1802) from the King of Bavaria, he settled in Bayreuth, the capital of his native province; where he lived thenceforth, diligent and celebrated in many new departments of literature; and died on the 14th of November, 1825, loved as well as admired by all his countrymen, and most by those who had known him most intimately.

A huge, irregular man, both in mind and person, (for his portrait is quite a physiognomical study,) full of fire, strength, and impetuosity, Richter seems, at the same time, to have been, in the highest degree, mild, simplehearted, humane. He was fond of conversation, and might well shine in it: he talked, as he wrote, in a style of his own, full of wild strength and charms, to which his natural Bayreuth accent often gave additional effect. Yet he loved retirement, the country, and all natural things; from his youth upwards, he himself tells us, he may almost be said to have lived in the open air; it was among groves and meadows that he studied, often that he wrote. Even in

seemed not at all to disturb him, any more than did the cooing of the pigeons, which fluttered to and fro in the chamber,—a place, indeed, of considerable size."-P. 8.

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Our venerable Hooker, we remember, also enjoyed "the jingle of household operations," and the more questionable jingle of shrewd tongues to boot, while he wrote; but the good thrifty mother, and the cooing pigeons, were wanting. Richter came afterwards to live in finer mansions, and had the great and learned for associates; but the gentle feelings of those days abode with him: through life he was the same substantial, determinate, yet meek and tolerating man. It is seldom that so much. rugged energy can be so blandly attempered; -that so much vehemence and so much softness will go together.

The expected edition of Richter's works is to be in sixty volumes: and they are no less multifarious than extensive; embracing subjects of all sorts, from the highest problems of transcendental philosophy, and the most passionate poetical delineations, to Golden Rules for the Weather-Prophet, and instructions in the Art of Falling Asleep. His chief productions are novels: the Unsichtbare Loge (Invisible Lodge); Flegeljahre (Wild-Oats); Life of Fixlein; the Jubelsenior (Parson in Jubilee); Schmelzle's Journey to Flätz; Katzenberger's Journey to the Bath; Life of Fibel; with many lighter pieces; and two works of a higher order, Hesperus and Titan, the largest and the best of his novels. It was the former that first (in 1795) introduced him into decisive and universal estimation with his countrymen: the latter he himself, with the most judicious of his critics, regarded as his master-piece. But the name Novelist, as we in England must understand it, would ill describe so vast and discursive a genius: for, with all his grotesque, tumultuous pleasantry, Richter is a man of a truly earnest, nay, high and solemn character

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