GERMAN WRITERS.

HEINRICH HEINE.

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BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

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Ludwig Börne, the well-known author of Letters from Paris, once said, that Voltaire was only the John the Baptist of Antichrist, but that Heine was Antichrist himself. Perhaps he paid Heine too great a compliment yet the remark is true so far as this, that it points him out as the leader of that new school in Germany which is seeking to establish a religion of sensuality, and to build a palace of Pleasure on the ruins of the church.

This school is known under the name of Young Germany. It is skeptical, and sensual; and seems desirous of trying again the experiment so often tried before, but never with any success, of living without a God. Heine expresses this in phrases too blasphemous or too voluptuous to repeat; and Gutzkow, his follower exclaims: “Let the only Priest, that weds our hearts, be a moment of rapture, not the church, with her ceremonies, and her servants with parted hair;” and again with a sigh: “Alas! had the world known nothing of God, it would have been happier!”

Thus the old and oft-repeated follies of mankind come up and are lived over again by young men, who despise the wisdom of the Past, and imagine themselves wiser than their own generation. Nor are these young men without their admirers and advocates. Madame Dacier, of classic memory, defended Sappho’s morals, and in reply to the hereditary scandal against her, coldly said: “Sappho had her enemies.” Nearly in the same way is Young Germany defended; and even theologians have not been wanting, to palliate, excuse and justify.

In this country, there are certain persons, who seem disposed to enact this same tragic farce; for we too, have our Young America, which mocks the elder prophets, and cries “Go up, bald-head!”—Young ladies read with delight such books as Festus, and think the Elective Affinities “religious almost to piety.” Young men, who profess to be Christians, like the Pagan of Lafontaine, believe in God by a kind of patent-right,—par bénéfice d’inventaire. Nature, we are told, must not be interfered with in any way, at any time; and so much is said about this, that many respectable people begin to say with old Voss, “Dear Nature! thou seemest to me quite too natural!”

I do not, however, propose to discuss these points in the following sketch; nor to consider Heine’s plans for regenerating society, which, at best, are but vague opinions thrown out recklessly and at random, like fire-brands, that set in a flame whatever light matter they fall upon. It is the Author only, that I shall attempt to sketch.

Henry Heine was born in 1797 at Düsseldorf on the Rhine; and studied at the Universities of Bonn, Berlin, and Göttingen. He afterwards resided in Hamburg, Berlin and Munich; and since 1830 has lived in Paris. His principal writings are Buch der Lieder, a collection of lyrical poems; two tragedies, Almansor and Radcliff; the four volumes of Reisebilder; the Beiträge zur Geschichte der neuern schönen Literatur in Deutschland; the Frangësische Zustände; and Der Salon,—the last two being collections of his various contributions to the German newspapers. The most popular of his writings is the Reisebilder, (Pictures of Travel.) The Beiträge has been translated into English, by Geo. W. Haven, under the title of Letters auxiliary to the History of modern Polite Literature in Germany, Boston, 1836. The same work, with many additions, has been published in Paris, under the title of De l’Allemagne.

The style of Heine is remarkable for vigor, wit and brilliancy; but is wanting in taste and refinement. To the recklessness of Byron he adds the sentimentality of Sterne. The Reisebilder is a kind of Don Juan in prose, with passages from the Sentimental Journey. He is always in extremes, either of praise or censure; setting at nought the decencies of life, and treating the most sacred things with frivolity. Throughout his writings you see traces of a morbid, ill-regulated mind; of deep feeling, disappointment and suffering. His sympathies seem to have died within him, like Ugolino’s children in the tower of Famine. With all his various powers, he wants the one great power—the power of truth! He wants, too, that ennobling principle of all human endeavors, the aspiration “after an ideal standard, that is higher than himself.” In a word, he wants sincerity and spirituality.

In the highest degree reprehensible, too, is the fierce, implacable hatred with which Heine pursues his foes. No man should write of another as he permits himself to do at times. In speaking of Schlegel, as he does in his German Literature, he is utterly without apology. And yet to such remorseless invectives, to such witty sarcasms, he is indebted in a great degree for his popularity. It was not till after he had bitten the heel of Hercules, that the Crab was placed among the constellations.

The following passages from the Reisebilder, will give the reader a general idea of Heine’s style; exhibiting at once his beauties and defects—his poetic feeling—his spirit—his wit—his want of taste. The first is from his description of a Tour to the Harz Mountains; the second from his Journey from Munich to Genoa.

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