Chapter III · OSSIAN’S INFLUENCE UPON KLOPSTOCK AND THE SO–CALLED BARDS.

§1. Klopstock.

“Klopstock verliert alles, wenn man ihn in der Nähe und im Einzelnen betrachtet. Man muss ihn in einer gewissen Ferne und im Ganzen erfassen. Wenn man ihn liest, scheint er pedantisch und langweilig; wenn man ihn aber gelesen hat, und sich wieder an ihn erinnert, wird er gross und majestätisch. Dann glauben wir einen riesenhaften Geist Ossians zu sehen.”—W. Menzel.

The subject of Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock, were it to receive exhaustive treatment, would greatly exceed the space we can allot to it in a general discussion of the effect that Ossian produced in Germany, and we shall therefore confine ourselves here largely to generalities and attempt only a broad sketch of Klopstock’s attitude toward the Gaelic bard. If we are to accept literally the statement made by Klopstock in a letter to Gerstenberg,[48] to the effect that he did not adopt the mythology of his forefathers until after the appearance of the “Lied eines Skalden” (1766), we ought to begin our discussion with Gerstenberg. It appears, however, that Klopstock gave some attention to old Germanic history and mythology previous to 1766.[49] At any rate, he fell under Ossian’s influence two years before, and set the example to a number of others. It is doubtful whether Ossian of himself would have had as strong an influence upon the so–called bards, had not Klopstock given the necessary encouragement; Gerstenberg’s example alone could not have been expected to produce the same results as that of the author of the Messiah.[50] Indeed, the influences that Ossian and Klopstock exercised upon the bards are in many cases so closely interwoven, that a discussion of Ossian’s influence upon the bards without a previous study of Klopstock would be impracticable.

Two streams of poesy, proceeding from Hagedorn and Haller, respectively, ran side by side in the middle of the 18th century, the former bearing upon its surface the light, fantastic, Frenchified, anacreontic poetry, the latter the more somber verse of Klopstock and his pupils—this latter in the strain of Young’s Night Thoughts.[51] The melancholy Ossian could be assured a cordial reception by a poet like Klopstock, at the bottom of whose really healthy nature there lurked something that had a little earlier responded to the elegiac mood of Young—feelings that had been intensified by the death of his dearly–beloved wife Meta (1758). This bereavement cast a deep shadow over Klopstock, so much so that for several years he wrote little poetry. Much of this time was spent in Germany—he had been living at Copenhagen since 1753—and it was undoubtedly upon one of these visits to his fatherland that he became acquainted with Ossian. Here was sustenance, indeed, for the sentimental side of his nature, for his Gefühlsschwärmerei. The dim forms of Ossian’s heroes, the misty atmosphere of the Highlands in which they lived, were well calculated to cast a spell over the author of the Messiah, whose own genius was not fitted to delineate his characters with sharp, clear–cut lines. There is a certain mistiness in Klopstock’s great epic that reminds one of the shadowy atmosphere in which the heroes of the Ossianic epics are enveloped. More than one passage in the Messiah conveys the impression of representing little more than rhetorical bombast. Macpherson was a kindred spirit.

This was, however, by no means all that Ossian held out to him. He saw something in Ossian that he seized upon even more eagerly—too eagerly, in fact—namely, he regarded Ossian as a German. By this time Klopstock’s activity in the patriotic field had begun; religion no longer engrossed his entire attention. Barring Frederick the Great, there were no glorious figures upon the political stage, and Frederick’s fondness for the literature of France was not calculated to attract Klopstock, who hated the rationalistic poetry of the French. Nor was the empire of the 18th century a political organism to inspire the poet to patriotic effusions. A united fatherland lay, however, in the dim and distant past, almost buried in oblivion, in the days of old, when Arminius and his mighty warriors defied the power of Rome itself. And thither Klopstock turned for inspiration. Tacitus was a good source for historical data and in the famous work of the old Roman historian mention was made of the shouting of a battle–song by the Germani, a baritus (written barditus in some of the manuscripts).[52] Hence the term “bard” was applied to those whose duty it was to incite the warriors to battle by means of songs, and the songs themselves were called by Klopstock Bardiete, a word he applied also to his last historical dramas.[53] Unfortunately these songs of the days of yore, for the existence of which Eginhard’s statement was cited as authority, were apparently lost:

And now Ossian appeared upon the scene, the bard of bards, who sang of the deeds of days gone by. Here was a source of consolation, indeed. If Ossian had only sung the deeds of Arminius! Although Fingal was no hero to be despised, Klopstock laments:

And this regret that only a few notes have been handed down he could not shake off. We meet with it again and again, not only in his odes, e. g., “Unsre Sprache,” but also in his letters, e. g., in an epistle to Denis, dated Copenhagen, Jan. 6, 1767, where he says: “Ich bitte Sie, mich nicht lange auf Ihre Uebersetzung des Ossian warten zu lassen. Ossian ist ein vortrefflicher Barde. Wenn wir doch auch von unsern Barden irgend in einem Kloster etwas fänden!”[56] And in another letter to the same, dated Bernstorff, Sept. 8, 1767, he writes: “Ossians Werke sind wahre Meisterstücke. Wenn wir einen solchen Barden fänden! Es wird mir ganz warm bey diesem Wunsche.”[57] And when Denis informs him of the discovery of the songs of the so–called Illyrian bards,[58] he can not conceal his delight, and writes from Bernstorff under date of July 22, 1768: “Sie haben mir durch Ihre Nachricht, dass noch illyrische Barden durch die Ueberlieferung existiren, eine solche Freude gemacht, dass ich ordentlich gewünscht hätte, dass mir Ihr Ossian weniger gefallen hätte, um Sie bitten zu können, ihn liegen zu lassen und diese Barden zu übersetzen.”[59] Though the Poems of Ossian could not, then, fully compensate for the German treasures that were lost, they offered a standard by which to judge the character of the songs of the old Germani, and threw light upon many old institutions. There was much false material in Macpherson’s various preliminary dissertations, which, unfortunately, was accepted as gospel truth, even by men who might have been credited with more critical acumen. And so when Klopstock was in search of dress and historical material for his Bardiete, what more natural than that in painting the character and customs of the followers of Arminius, he should borrow here and there from the picture of the ancient Celts as presented by Macpherson?[60] That Klopstock interested himself in the history and manners of the ancient Caledonians, we see from a passage in the letter to Denis, dated July 22, 1768, where he refers Denis to John Macpherson’s Critical Dissertations:[61] “Ich vermuthe, dass Sie einige Kleinigkeiten in Ihrer [Vorrede] zum Ossian ändern werden,” he writes, “wenn Sie Macpherson von den Alterthümern der Hochländer gelesen haben werden.”[62]

But what had Ossian to do with the old Germani? We shall let Klopstock answer in his own words: “Und nun eine kleine nicht üble Nachricht von meinen weidmännischen Lustwandlungen in den Wäldern unsrer alten Sprachen, nach gethaner Arbeit nämlich.—Makpherson, der Retter des Barden Ossian (Ossian war deutscher Abkunft, weil er ein Kaledonier war)[63] wird mir, und wie ich hoffe nun bald, die eisgrauen Melodien zu einigen lyrischen Stellen des grossen Dichters schicken. Mit Hülfe dieser Melodien denk’ ich das Sylbenmaass der Barden herauszubringen.”[64] An epigram in the same tone appeared in the Hamburgische Neue Zeitung, 1771, No. 183, and was reprinted in the first edition of the Gelehrtenrepublik, although omitted in the second. It was entitled “Gerechter Anspruch,” and ran as follows:

We see, therefore, that Ossian was unceremoniously annexed by Klopstock; Celts and Germani were all one to him,[65] he drew no narrow distinctions, and not until late in life were his ideas on this point clarified. We are not to suppose, however, that Klopstock alone occupied this position. Far from it. The conceptions that existed at the time as to the genetic relation of peoples and languages were rather hazy, to say the least. Klopstock’s intense patriotism was a factor in preventing him from penetrating more to the root of the matter. “Die allgemein anerkannte und empfundene Vortrefflichkeit dieser Gesänge war es,” says a writer in the periodical Bragur,[66] “welche ... die zärtliche Vaterlandsliebe einiger teutschen Worthies so weit entflammte, dass sie nicht nur den Barden Ossian, weil man bisher die Celten für die Stammväter der Teutschen hielt und die ältesten teutschen Dichter aus der Heidenzeit nicht anders als mit dem Bardennamen zu beschenken gewohnt war, zu einem Landsmanne von uns zu machen suchten, sondern ihn auch wirklich machten. Unsere Väter waren also Celten, unsere ältesten teutonischen Dichter Barden.”

But still another element of confusion made its appearance with the introduction of Norse mythology. The warriors of Arminius were not Christians, nor was their religion based upon the mythology of the Greeks. They had a mythology of their own, of which little was known. Fortunately, the Old Norse Edda had preserved a complete system of divinities, and so Arminius and his followers were constrained to pray to the Old Norse gods. Ferven patriots, who did not hesitate to adopt Ossian as a countryman, could scarcely be expected to distinguish between Old Norse mythology and the mythology of the ancient Cherusci and Catti. Now Ossian having once been stamped as of German descent, it required no great stretch of imagination to make Fingal and his warriors forswear their allegiance to the Spirit of Loda and pray to Wodan and his band, and vice versa to make Norse bards—skalds—assume various characteristics of Ossian’s heroes. Ossian and the characters of Norse mythology went hand in hand, and making their appearance, as they did, about the same time,[67] confusion was bound to arise. This confusion was particularly noticeable in the writings of the first group of German poets that were influenced by Ossian—of Klopstock and the bards—and played much mischief in German literature for several years. Klopstock, not content with introducing the Norse gods into his new poems, proceeded to drive the residents of Olympus out of old ones and to replace them by the dwellers in Walhalla. By the end of the year 1767 this process was completed. It is nowhere better illustrated than in the ode now called “Wingolf,” which was written in 1747 under the title “An des Dichters Freunde.” In the first verse, e. g., Hebe has had to make way for Gna and so on throughout the poem.[68] It will be interesting to mention a few of the changes occasioned by the appearance of Ossian. L. 4: “Feyernd in mächtigen Dithyramben,” now reads: “Feyrend in kühnerem Bardenliede.” Ll. 5–7 which originally read:

have been changed to:

It is evident that these changes are confined to externals, as is also the case when l. 10, “Mit Orpheus Leyer,” becomes “Des Zelten Leyer,” or l. 25, “Dein Priester wartet,” is changed to “Dein Barde wartet,” and so on. As for Orpheus, the Thracians were regarded by Klopstock as a tribe of the Celts, and so Orpheus becomes as much of a German bard as Ossian.[70] Before we leave this ode, let us glance at an example or two, showing how the machinery of Ossian is thrown together with Norse mythology. Ll. 45–9, which originally read:

were changed to:

or ll. 209–12:

which have become:

Klopstock notes with reference to the word Telyn: “Die Leyer der Barden. Sie heisset noch jetzt in der neueren celtischen Sprache so, die am Meisten von der älteren behalten hat.” The term has replaced Leier also in the odes “Thuiskon,” l. 13, “Die Barden,” l. 2; it occurs in ll. 62 and 123 of the ode “Der Hügel, und der Hain,” l. 14 of “Die Barden,” in the Hermannsschlacht, in Hermann und die Fürsten, etc. The introduction of this Celtic word goes back directly to the study of Celtic to which Klopstock was incited by the poems of Ossian. Moreover, it is not the only word he borrowed in this way. In “Die Barden,” l. 14, he speaks of the Telyn of our Filea, and explains the latter term in a note as “Die vortrefflichsten unter den Barden, welche die jüngeren unterrichteten.”[72] Another Celtic word that he introduced is Bardale, which he defines as follows: “Von Barde. So hiess in unsrer älteren Sprache die Lerche. Die Nachtigall verdient’s noch mehr, so zu heissen.” Klopstock applied the word also to the nightingale, but in the ode “Die Lerche und die Nachtigall” he uses it for the lark, a symbol of the song of nature, in contradistinction to the nightingale, whose song is more artificial. The ode “Bardale,” written in 1748, was originally entitled “Aëdone”; it was first published under the simple title “Ode” in the Vermischte Schriften von den Verfassern der Bremischen Beiträge, i, p. 378 (1749). Although these terms are employed occasionally by Klopstock’s imitators and others,[73] they never became popular and soon died out altogether.

Klopstock was an earnest student of versification and nothing could have given him more pleasure at one time of his career than the discovery of the poetical measures of the ancient Germani. The appearance of Macpherson’s Ossian in a prose garb, welcome as it was to some, must have come as a cruel disappointment to one who was so anxious to be enlightened as to the nature and structure of the meter of the Ur–Germanic bardic songs. This disappointment finds expression in the ode “Der Bach,” where he sings:

If Klopstock had only lived to see Ahlwardt’s translation from the so–called Celtic originals, he would have had at least a partial recompense. As it was, all he had to go by was the original (?) of the sixth book of “Temora” and that did not give him much information as to the exact structure of the verse he sought. He therefore entered into correspondence with Macpherson, as we saw above[74] in the letter to Gleim. The intensity of his interest is well illustrated by a few epistolary passages. He writes to Denis under date of July 22, 1768: “In dem Celtischen war ich auch schon ziemlich weit, aber es erklärt uns nichts; und da liess ichs. Ihnen ins Ohr. Macpherson (mit dem ich correspondire), versteht entweder Ossians Quantität, oder das Sylbenmass überhaupt nicht genug. Wenn Sie mir wahrscheinlich machen können, dass die illyrischen Barden wenigstens halbe Deutsche waren, so bekömmt der Uebersetzer einen schweren Stand mit mir, wenn er falsch, nur ein wenig falsch übersetzt.”[75] Again, he writes to Ebert on May 5, 1769: “Wenn mir Macpherson Wort hält; so bekomme ich einige alte Melodien nach Ossian, in unsre Noten gesezt; und so kann ich auch vielleicht etwas nicht unwahrscheinliches von dem Rhythmus der Barden sagen.”[76] It appears, however, that he got but little help from the material that Macpherson sent him, and so he takes his request to Angelica Kauffmann,[77] who resided in London at the time. He writes to Gleim from Bernstorff, Sept. 2, 1769: “Ich bin seit Kurzem in eine deutsche Malerin in London, Angelika Kaufmann, beinahe verliebt. Sie hat einen Briefwechsel mit mir angefangen, und will mir schicken: einen Kopf Ossians nach ihrer Phantasie, ihr Portrait und ein Gemälde aus dem Messias.”[78] Their common admiration for Ossian was no small factor in cementing the friendship between the poet and the artist. Unfortunately nothing came of the portrait of Ossian,[79] and hence we are left in the dark as to the artist’s conception of the Voice of Cona and as to how her conception would have coincided with Klopstock’s. On March 3, 1770, Klopstock wrote to Angelica from Copenhagen: “Könnten Sie nicht in Edingburgh, oder auch weiter hinauf gegen Norden, durch Hülfe Ihrer Freunde, einen Musikus auftreiben, der mir die Melodien solcher Stellen im Ossian, die vorzüglich lyrisch sind, in unsere Noten setzte,” etc.[80] Nothing could better illustrate Klopstock’s profound interest in the subject than the passages just quoted. After this we hear nothing further of the matter, and must conclude that Klopstock’s hoped–for assistance from this quarter proved illusory. What were Klopstock’s conclusions with reference to Ossian’s meter, we are told in one of his essays on the German hexameter, viz., he thought that Ossian’s meter consisted of a mixture of narrative verses of his own invention and other lyrical verses answering to the sense.[81] Of course Ossian’s value for Klopstock lay in the fact that he supposedly sang in natural melodies and was not hampered by artificial measures.

At the height of his enthusiasm for Ossian, Klopstock deemed it no sacrilege to place the Celtic bard alongside of Homer, in accordance with the popular practice of the day.[82] In a letter to Denis, Klopstock writes from Copenhagen under date of August 4, 1767: “Ich liebe Ossian so sehr, dass ich seine Werke über einige Griechische der besten Zeit setze.”[83] In the first edition of the Gelehrtenrepublik (1774) appeared the following epigram, which is a striking illustration of Klopstock’s quondam supreme admiration for Ossian:

Similarly he sings in the ode “Unsre Sprache” (ll. 53–60):

The first four verses of this eulogy became very popular among Ossian’s numerous admirers, and we find them occasionally prefixed to German translations. They are also quoted by Denis in his Vorbericht[85] to the Lieder Sineds (1772).

Let us now briefly consider Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock as it appears in some of his works. Dr. Julius Köster in his Programm Ueber Klopstocks Gleichnisse (Iserlohn, 1878), fixes the beginning of this influence altogether too late. He says: “Ossian hat erst Ende der sechziger Jahre auf Klopstock wirken können, weil er in Deutschland erst um jene Zeit durch die Uebersetzung von Denis bekannt wurde.” We have seen, however, that notices of Ossian had appeared in Germany as early as 1762 and that several translations were published before that of Denis, although to be sure, Denis’s was the first that attracted widespread attention. Klopstock, who of course had become acquainted with Ossian long before the appearance of Denis’s translation, took a warm interest in the translator’s work, as is evidenced by the correspondence that passed between the two. Klopstock had seen bits of the translation before it was published; under date of Sept. 8, 1767, he writes to Denis from Bernstorff: “Sie werden am Ende dieses Briefs einige Ausdrücke finden, mit denen ich in Ihrer Uebersetzung des Ossian und in Ihrer Ode weniger als mit den andern zufrieden bin.”[86] It has been pointed out,[87] that the earliest translations all emanated from North Germany, from Bremen, Hamburg, and Hannover, and they were consequently very liable to fall into Klopstock’s hands. Besides, there is no reason why he should not have read Macpherson’s poems in English, a copy of which he would have had no difficulty in procuring on one of the frequent visits made to Germany between the summer of 1762 and July, 1764. Klopstock had begun the study of English as a youngster at school, and although he, like so many other German literati of the day, like Lenz, for example, never obtained a complete scientific mastery of the language, he would have experienced little difficulty in construing Macpherson’s short, simple periods. Be that as it may, there can be no doubt of the fact that Klopstock became acquainted with Ossian as early as 1764, for the simple reason that some of the odes written in that year show plain traces of Ossian’s influence.

In all attempts to arrive at an exact estimate of Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock, one difficulty will always be encountered, a difficulty based upon the fact that both the language of Macpherson and that of Klopstock rest in large measure upon the same foundations: the Bible, Homer, Milton, Latin poets. Malcolm Laing in his “Dissertation”[88] gave innumerable examples of Macpherson’s borrowings, and although he undoubtedly went a little too far, it can not be denied that many of his conclusions are true. The greatest care has, therefore, to be exercised in attributing anything in Klopstock to Ossian, for the chances are that the Bible, or Milton, or Homer, or Horace, or some other classical poet, is the common source from which both drew.[89] For instance, Macpherson is fond of comparing the voice or song to a stream, but were we to attribute Klopstock’s lines:

to Ossian, we should be led astray, for Klopstock’s source was undoubtedly Horace, Odes, iv, 2, ll. 5–8, where he speaks of the songs of Pindar:

The large majority of Klopstock’s comparisons are taken from nature and so are Ossian’s: comparisons with the moon and the stars, dusk and night, clouds and mist, wind and storm, etc., etc., all are found in Klopstock even before Ossian appeared; indeed, the resemblance of the language of Klopstock to that of Ossian, even in the early songs of the Messiah, especially as far as the imagery is concerned, is striking. The same accumulation of comparisons is of course found in Homer. Köster[90] again and again notes passages from Ossian where an influence proceeding from him is absolutely out of the question, not only in connection with the early songs of the Messiah, but also with reference to odes written before 1764, e. g., he refers to Ossian in connection with the line “Laura war ... Schön wie ein festlicher Tag,” in the ode “Petrarka und Laura” (l. 61). But this ode was written as early as 1748 and consequently Ossian can not be held responsible. When Klopstock in the “Klagode” sings (ll. 10–11):

we can of course point to a resemblance in Ossian, “Lathmon,” p. 271, l. 20: “We decay like the grass of the hill,” or “Berrathon,” p. 382, l. 3: “Like the leaves of woody Morven, they pass away,” but at the same time we must not forget that similar comparisons occur in the Psalms and in Homer (e. g., Iliad, vi, ll. 146–8). Likewise we have the comparison of man’s perishableness to the short life of a flower in Hermann und die Fürsten, Sc. 14: “Vor dem Triumphwagen werd’ ich wie eine Blume hindorren,” and also in Ossian, “Croma,” p. 178, l. 18: “They fall away, like the flower,” etc., but compare Job, 14, 2, Psalms, 103, 15–6, etc. Enough examples have been cited to convince one of the fruitlessness of attempting to draw sharp lines in the treatment of our subject. Of this we may be certain: One reason why Ossian appealed so strongly to Klopstock was, that he found here so much that was familiar to him from his own reading and writing.

Having thus far regarded the question mainly from a negative standpoint, it now remains for us to give some examples of a positive influence. Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock is visible particularly in the odes written in 1764, 1766 and 1767, and in the first Bardiet, Die Hermannsschlacht, although traces appear in the later odes and Bardiete. Doubtless a closer examination of the language of the later books of the Messiah would also reveal the influence of Ossian. Salomo contains an Ossianic reminiscence or two, but nothing that can be distinctly localized. Klopstock’s unbounded admiration for Ossian really did not last much over a decade and the old bard’s influence gradually diminished, just as Klopstock’s fondness for Norse mythology grew less and less pronounced. By the time he began to turn his attention to the French Revolution, both Ossian and the Norse divinities appear more like a memory of the days of old. The year 1764, in which Klopstock probably first became acquainted with Ossian, marks the beginning of a period of renewed activity in the field of the ode, and I am inclined to conclude that Ossian’s appearance helped to further that activity. The influence of Norse mythology upon the works of Klopstock manifests itself largely in externals; similarly does that of Ossian. Klopstock borrowed much from the bardic machinery, just as he did from that of the Norse gods, without at the same time entering very deeply into the spirit of Ossian. In fact, he did not need to, for much of what he found in Ossian was not foreign to his nature. That we are justified in placing Klopstock’s acquaintance with Ossian as far back as 1764 needs no further proof than a reference to the ode “Der Jüngling” written in that year, in which the poet treats the theme of the perishableness of youth, a subject upon which Ossian loved to harp. Indeed, Klopstock’s poem is directly based upon Ossian’s reflections on youth in “The War of Inis–Thona,” p. 203, ll. 1–5.[91] The entire dress of the poem is Ossianic.

It strikes us as rather savoring of Ossian, when nature is allowed to take on a dimmer, mistier aspect in the new form of the ode “Wingolf,” e. g., in l. 196 “wallenden Opferrauche” is changed to “schweigenden Dämmerungen;”

ll. 269–71:

become:

Dark, dim, distant, dusky, far, misty, silent are epithets that continually occur in Ossian, over whose distant groves of oaks pours the mist in which ghosts hover. The last three lines quoted certainly present a much more Ossianic picture as they now stand than they did in the original version.

In the ode “Hermann” (1767), three bards are introduced lamenting the death of Arminius. An Ossianic chord is struck at the very beginning, when Werdomar, the chief of the bards, sings, ll. 1–2:

The peculiar expression “Steine der alternden Moose” reminds us of the moss of years that covers most of Ossian’s stones.[92] Other slight reminders of Ossianic description occur throughout the ode.

The bards in Ossian occasionally exercise the power of looking into the mirror of the future. So in the ode “Weissagung” (1773), the poet seizes the Telyn and prophesies; likewise in the ode “Die Rosstrappe” (1771);[93] in both, however, the sacred white horses mentioned by Tacitus, but not found in Ossian, play a part.

A frequent device that we find in Klopstock, especially at the height of his enthusiasm for Ossian, is the conjuring up of the spirits of the departed. Doubtless the songs of Ossian, in which the ghosts of the fallen play such an important rôle, inspired Klopstock with a fondness for this device. We must hold Ossian accountable, for example, when in the ode “Thuiskon” (1764) the hoary ancestor of the German people is made to appear in the grove of the modern German bards. Similarly an old bard is conjured up in the ode “Der Hügel, und der Hain” (1767); in the ode “Rothschilds Gräber” (1766) the souls of the departed appear to the poet, and spirits that hover around Braga or the goddess of the German language occur frequently in the odes of the period that coincides with Klopstock’s most intense interest in Ossian.[94]

The influence of Ossian is particularly manifest in the first of the odes mentioned in the previous paragraph, in “Thuiskon.” We have but to read the ode and for comparison the “Address to the Evening Star” and the “Apostrophe to Fingal and his Times” in “The Songs of Selma,”[95] to notice the resemblance. The time of the ghosts’ appearance in both is at the rising of the evening star, which in “Thuiskon” sends down “entwölkte Schimmer,” while in Ossian it “lifts its head from its clouds.” Compare also ll. 5–6:

with “Fingal comes like a watery column of mist.”[96]

Another ode of the same year, “Die frühen Gräber” (1764), shows undoubted traces of Ossian’s influence. The entire Stimmung is Ossianic and Ossianic touches are not wanting, as when the poet says, ll. 9–10:

The poems of Ossian teem with laments for the departed, whose graves are marked by stones, grown over with moss. The danger of referring everything in Klopstock that savors of the Gaelic bard to Ossian has been pointed out, yet Ossian undoubtedly accentuated and brought into stronger relief much that already existed.

Klopstock’s characterization of the songs of the bards given in ll. 33–40 and 77–84 of the ode “Der Hügel, und der Hain” is based largely upon his knowledge of the poems of Ossian which were supposedly further removed from the limitations of art and closer to nature than the poems of the Greeks.

The description of natural scenery and the comparison at the beginning of the ode “Aganippe und Phiala” (1764) reminds us strongly of Ossian, who was very fond of permitting several as’s and so’s to follow one another in his comparisons, a trick that was widely copied later in the imitations of Ossian and carried to excess.

Compare, e. g., “Fingal,” Book i, p. 221, ll. 4–10:

“As rushes a stream of foam from the dark shady deep of Cromla, when the thunder is travelling above, and dark–brown night sits on half the hill; through the breaches of the tempest look forth the dim faces of ghosts: So fierce, so vast, so terrible rushed on the sons of Erin. The chief, like a whale of ocean, whom all his billows pursue, poured valour forth as a stream, rolling his might along the shore.”

Ossian is full of long comparisons, with several dependent clauses,[97] and loves to heap up adjectives. Although the comparison of song to a stream frequently occurs in Ossian, we have seen[98] that it would be unsafe to attribute Klopstock’s use of the comparison to Ossian, in fact, we find comparisons of the voice to a storm pouring down from the hills in the early books of the Messiah, and of course in classical poetry.

Another example of the nature of Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock, its power to strengthen existing conceptions, is offered by his use of the oak in comparisons. Köster[99] remarks, that Klopstock’s numerous comparisons to the oak are all found in his later dramas, none in the Messiah. The oak, which Klopstock was so fond of regarding as the national tree—die deutsche Eiche—was as much at home in the highlands of Scotland as in the primeval forests of Germany, and according to Ossian occupied just as high a place in the minds of the Caledonians as in those of the Germani. The grove of oaks, the Hain, came to bear the same relation to bardic poetry that Helicon, the Hügel, bore to Greek poetry. It must have pleased Klopstock to find these groves of oaks so frequently mentioned in Ossian, in “The Songs of Selma,” e. g.,[100] and without a doubt Ossian’s numerous comparisons to the oak had an influence upon Klopstock. In the Hermannsschlacht, Sc. 6, e. g., he says: “... so stürzt’ er in sein Blut, wie die junge, schlanke Eiche der Donnersturm bricht.” Compare “Temora,” Bk. iii, p. 328, ll. 25–6: “Like a young oak falls Tur–lathon;” “Carthon,” p. 163, l. 20: “There he lies, a goodly oak, which sudden blasts overturned!” etc., etc.

Klopstock borrowed a name from Ossian and employed it freely in his odes, Selma, the name of the royal residence[101] of Fingal. He grew quite fond of the euphonious name, used it to apply to a girl, coined a corresponding masculine form Selmar, and out of the two made a pair of ideal lovers. Vetterlein[102] many years ago suggested that the names might have been taken from Selim and Selima, names given by Prevod to a pair of tender lovers in the Memoires d’un homme de qualité;[103] but no one of the present day would subscribe to that opinion. Had he kept the name of the maid in “The Songs of Selma,” Colma, he would have been induced to call her lover, whose real name is Salgar, Colmar, and that would have led to confusion with the Ossianic hero of that name. The ode “Selmar und Selma,” written in 1748, was originally entitled “Daphnis und Daphne.” About the same time that the change of names took place, another ode was written with the title “Selma und Selmar” (1766), in which the lovers promise that the first to die will appear to the other. This is a fancy that we frequently meet in the latter half of the 18th century, and it found nourishment in Ossian. The name Selma occurs furthermore in the ode “Die Erscheinung” (1777), and Selma and Selmar are the two ideal lovers in the ode “Das Bündniss,” as late as 1789. The combination grew to be quite a popular one, and so we find “Elegien von Selma und Selmar” in Kosegarten’s Thränen und Wonnen (Stralsund, 1778), a poem “Selmar und Selma” by Friedrich Stolberg[104] that shows the influence of Ossian, another Ossianic poem of the same title dedicated to Christian Stolberg,[105] and many more. The popularity of the name Selma was still further increased by the translation of “The Songs of Selma” that appeared in Werthers Leiden.

The Hermannsschlacht and the larger part of Hermann und die Fürsten were written at the height of Klopstock’s enthusiasm for Ossian and we shall not search in vain for signs of the bard’s influence in these dramas, particularly in the former. One of the most important and striking constituents of these dramas are the songs of the bards, interspersed throughout, which are thoroughly Ossianic in tone and spirit. Klopstock’s bards, like those of Ossian, encourage the warriors to battle, proclaim the fame of the mighty; they tell of the deeds of the past, and when they sing: “Höret Thaten der vorigen Zeit,” we recall Ossian’s “tales of the times of old,” or his “deeds of other times.” The three choruses in Sc. 3 of the Hermannsschlacht beginning with this exhortation are all decidedly Ossianic, e. g.:

Compare Messiah, xx, ll. 495–9:

Jetzo schwieg der Gesang; doch tönete fort der gehauchte Hall, und die Saite. So tönet der Hain, wenn weit in der Ferne Ströme durch Felsen stürzen; und nah von den Bächen es rieselt: Wenn es vom Winde rauscht in den tausendblättrigen Ulmen.

Ossian has numerous comparisons to wind and storm, breeze and blast and gale, in much the same tone, for instance the following, “Berrathon,” p. 379, ll. 1–3: “As the noise of an aged grove beneath the roaring wind, when a thousand ghosts break the trees by night.” After the bards have finished in the second scene, first edition, Siegmar exclaims: “Das war gut, Barden, dass Ihr von den Thaten unsrer Väter sangt!” Compare: “... sing nun dem Heere von den Thaten seiner Väter.” “Lathmon,” p. 272, ll. 7–8: “Their words were of the deeds of their fathers,” etc.

When the bards in Sc. 2 sing:

we are reminded of the car of Cuthullin in the first book of “Fingal” and of Ossian’s roaring streams that pour down the hills. Compare Hermann und die Fürsten, Sc. 1:

To liken a host of warriors unto a ‘gathered cloud’ or a ‘ridge of mist’ is a favorite device of Ossian, and similarly in Sc. 2 of the Hermannsschlacht,[108] two choruses sing:

And in the third scene a bard remarks: “Sie ziehn sich, wie ein dicker Nebel, langsam in den Vorderbusch.” And when the bards sing in the second scene:

or in the first edition:

we can point to Ossian’s shouts that are “louder than a storm” or like “thunder on distant hills.”

“Die Flamme des gerechten Zorns,” Hermannsschlacht, chorus, Sc. 3, calls up Ossian’s ‘flame of wrath,’ but undoubtedly the Bible is the source of both.

In Sc. 6 we have the following lines:

Similarly in Ossian the ghosts of the fathers that float on clouds look down upon the warriors.

In Sc. 11 two choruses sing:

and so “Carric–Thura,” p. 151, l. 27, “That shield like the full–orbed moon,” etc., and echoing shields without number.

One striking feature of the Highland scenery according to Ossian is the fact that everything—forest and heath, bay and stream, grove and vale, hill and isle, rocks and fields and banks and walls and numerous other things—is very susceptible to the echo, “the son of the rock,” and the fondness that Klopstock and the bards begin to exhibit for the echo about this time must be traced back largely to Ossian. In addition to the passage just quoted, we have in Sc. 2, e. g., “Wir haben ... den Gesang in den Felsen des Wiederhalls gehört,” “Lasst die Namen ... in allen Felsen des Wiederhalls laut tönen,” etc. In the same scene the bards sing:

In Sc. 11: “Wiederhalls Kluft,” etc.

A few words as to the poet’s attitude towards Ossian in his old age may complete our consideration of Klopstock. As he grew older, and other affairs, above all else the French Revolution, began to engross his attention, Ossian gradually lost interest for him, although he was never entirely forgotten. As late as 1797, Klopstock writes to Böttiger under date of November 9:[109] “Wissen Sie schon etwas von der Ausgabe von Ossians Gesängen, die jetzt in England in seiner Sprache gemacht wird? Ist die Übersezung getreu? Sind Anmerkungen über das Zeltische dabey?” Unfortunately he died before the long–heralded edition was finally published. When his enthusiastic admiration for Ossian subsided and took on a saner aspect, when his views on the subject of the relation of the Celts to the old German tribes assumed a more scientific character, he could not allow Ossian to occupy the position assigned to him at first. Although Klopstock’s fondness for the Celtic Homer diminished in the course of years, it nevertheless possessed a more lasting character than that of Goethe and of Schiller, to whom, as we shall see, it was merely a passing inspiration. Klopstock’s sober second thought revealed to him that he had occasionally gone too far in his blind adoration, and so we find that in later revisions of his works Ossianic reminiscences are occasionally expunged. The eulogistic verses that appeared in the first edition of the Gelehrtenrepublik (1774)[110] were omitted in the second; the ode “Teutone” (1773) gives the first fifty–two lines of “Unsre Sprache” (1767) almost literally, but substitutes sixteen new lines for the eight lines of encomium found in the latter.[111] In the first two Bardiete, the bards play an almost overwhelming rôle with their numerous songs, whereas in Hermanns Tod the bards appear in one scene only, the fifteenth. Then two passages appeared in the first edition of the Hermannsschlacht that were omitted or revised in the second, as e. g., the chorus beginning “Höret Thaten der vorigen Zeit!” in Sc. 2.—Late in life Klopstock in his correspondence with Böttiger occasionally refers to Ossian. One letter has been quoted from. Under date of January 6, 1798, he writes to Böttiger: “Hierbey Macd[onald] und einige Aufschr[iften]. Ich werde eher keinen bestimten Begriff von Ossian bekommen, als bis man mir (könte es nicht Macd. thun?) merklich verschiedene Stellen aus ihm völlig wörtlich übersezt. Sie sehen, dass ich nur Stellen meinen kan, die Oss. gewiss zugehören.”[112] If we read between the lines, we can see feelings of doubt and if we are to place entire confidence in a letter of Sir James Mackintosh to Malcolm Laing,[113] Klopstock at last lost his faith in the authenticity of the songs of Ossian altogether—a strange ending to his earlier unbounded enthusiasm. Sir James writes: “I consider your Ossian and Farmer’s ‘Essay’ on Shakspeare’s pretended learning as the two most complete demonstrations of literary positions that have ever been produced ... You know how bitterly old Klopstock complained of you for having dispelled his Ossianic illusions ...”

§2. The Bards.[114]—Gerstenberg.

The bardic poetry, the way for which had been prepared by Mallet’s influential work, the Introduction à l’histoire de Danemarc with its Supplément: Monumens de la Mythologie et de la Poësie des Celtes et particulièrement des Anciens Scandinaves, and which had received its impulse from Macpherson’s Ossian, aided by the mistaken acceptation of the barditus mentioned by Tacitus, soon gained other supporters, among whom the most prominent were Gerstenberg, Denis and Kretschmann. The various other representatives of the poetry, which, carried to an extreme, became ridiculous and was justly characterized as the Bardengebrüll or Bardengeschrei, were on the whole devoid of talent and scarcely call for serious treatment.

Much of what has been said with reference to Klopstock’s reception of Ossian applies also to the bards, only we see that the thing deteriorated into a fad through imitation. It began to take on the character of mere play; the poets styled themselves bards and gave themselves bardic names, e. g., Klopstock—Werdomar, Gerstenberg—Thorlaug, Denis—Sined,[115] Kretschmann—Rhingulph, Hartmann—Telynhard, Dusch—Ryno, Haschka—Cronnan, etc.[116]

Just as Klopstock had sacrificed the lyre for the telyn, so his followers. The harp of the bards replaced the Zionitic harp. The poet, or rather bard,[117] was no longer crowned with the laurel–wreath but with the leaf of the oak. To–day we smile at these vagaries, but these men were very earnest in their play. Kretschmann, and not Klopstock, is responsible for most of the nonsense. The most pleasing phase of the movement is its patriotic character, and we must give the bards credit for the earnestness with which they strove to inculcate a feeling for national unity. Then they praise virtue and maidenly modesty, a cheerful sign for that age.

If these bards had restricted themselves to singing the mighty deeds of the past, it would not have been so bad, but when Arminius and the old Germani had become exhausted, they came down to the present and endeavored to surround it with an air of antiquity. As a result bardic poetry became largely a matter of vers d’occasion. The unfavorable critics seized upon the aberrations and made a laughing–stock of the whole school, and so the few good illustrations had to suffer with the large majority of those whose poverty of conception and general inability have prevented their names from being handed down to posterity. Thus long before Ossian’s influence in Germany had ceased, bardic poetry was a thing of the past. Much of the machinery of Ossian’s bards was borrowed by the German bardic poets and even the druids were transferred to German soil. The old Norse mythology, which found such ready acceptance by Klopstock and Gerstenberg, is not so important in the poetry of Denis, Kretschmann, and the numerous minor bards. What the bards copied then from Ossian were the general paraphernalia, the characteristic motifs, the tone of the harp, the echoing grove, the ghosts of the departed,[118] and the like. The love for the dismal heath, the stormy sea, and other phases of Ossianic description of wild and forlorn nature, can not be said to predominate in the bardic poetry, although it is frequently noticeable, as e. g., in Maler Müller, who in his bardic poetry loses himself absolutely in the Ossianic descriptions of nature.[119] The importance of Ossian’s landscape painting lay in the circumstance that it acted upon the mood of the reader, and although the general tone of the nature depicted in Ossian does not change much, it was a marked advance to have a description of nature invested with some internal significance, to bring nature and the feelings into interaction with each other. Ossian again and again inserts a picture of nature at the opening of an episode and this device was frequently copied in the bardic poetry, with this only difference: in Macpherson the connection between the introductory description and the following action is evident, whereas in the bardic imitations it generally strikes the reader as something irrelevant. When Ossianic comparisons are introduced, as they frequently are, they usually bear the stamp of servile imitation, being cold and showing no trace of intense personal feeling. At the same time, however, an attempt is occasionally made to enter into the Stimmung of Ossian, reflected at first in mere imitation, but finally striking out for itself.[120] What the bards did not copy were his peculiar delineations of character, his management of the action,[121] although the noble qualities of Fingal and his heroes are transferred to the princes who are being extolled. All details will be left for the separate discussions to follow.

Heinrich Wilhelm Gerstenberg.

We have included Gerstenberg among the bards, but he was far from being a bard as we apply that term to Denis and Kretschmann. Denis wrote little poetry that was not in the bardic vein, whereas Gerstenberg moved in many spheres. Gerstenberg was not a prolific writer, yet three productions of his were quite influential in their day: The Briefe über Merkwürdigkeiten der Litteratur, the Gedicht eines Skalden, and Ugolino; and in all three the shades of Ossian are visible in one form or another. His early productions, including the Tändeleien, written in the Anacreontic manner, do not concern us here and we shall turn our attention at once to the Schleswigische Litteraturbriefe.[122] An account of the place that these letters occupy in the history of German literature, of their tendency and their influence, would lead us too far afield. We are interested here solely in the eighth letter and more particularly in the first portion of the letter which discusses the “Memoire eines Irrländers über die ossianischen Gedichte.”[123] Here for the first time in a German journal we meet with serious doubts as to the genuineness of the poems. Gerstenberg has occasionally been praised, and deservedly so, for having had the sagacity to see through the forgery at once; and he deserves particular credit also for having had the courage to stand by his convictions and to publish personal opinions that were almost certain to be received, if not with scorn, at least with indifference. It was no doubt Gerstenberg to whom Herder referred in his Briefwechsel über Ossian as one who so “obstinately doubted the truth and authenticity of the Scotch Ossian.” Gerstenberg realized that he stood almost alone in his opinion and he refers to the unanimity of the critics near the beginning of his letter. His doubts were not called forth by the “Mémoire,” but had presented themselves to him upon his first perusal of the songs. He says in the letter: “Dass entweder Hr. Macpherson seinen Text ausserordentlich verfälscht, oder auch das untergeschobne Werk einer neuern Hand allzu leichtgläubig für ein genuines angenommen hätte, glaubten wir gleich aus den mancherley Spuren des Modernen sowol, als aus den verschiednen kleinen hints, die der Dichter sich aus dem Homer x. gemerkt zu haben schien, wahrzunehmen.”[124] The more direct proofs he lacked at first were furnished by the author of the “Mémoire,” a synopsis of whose arguments he proceeds to give in a few lines, closing with the words: “... ich enthalte mich aber eines weitern Details, da Sie diess alles in der Urschrift selbst nicht ohne Vergnügen nachlesen werden.” It is unfortunate that Gerstenberg did not pursue the subject further; his views would no doubt have been exceedingly interesting and rather refreshing. He then passes over to the Reliques, which he stamps as more reliable than the songs of Ossian.

Der Skalde (1766).—The same year in which the first two collections of the Schleswigische Litteraturbriefe were published also marks the appearance of the Gedicht eines Skalden, or Der Skalde, as it was called later, one of the best poems written in the bardic manner, and one that exerted great influence upon the bardic poetry. Old Norse mythology was here introduced and combined with a few Ossianic touches. Knowing that Gerstenberg disbelieved in the authenticity of the poems, we should scarcely expect traces of their influence at this time. Der Skalde actually contains but few Ossianic reminiscences, particularly when compared with what we find in some of the poems of Denis. As Pfau has pointed out,[125] Gerstenberg no doubt derived from Ossian the idea of having the ghost of Thorlaug (Himintung) arise from his grave. There is nothing in old Norse mythology corresponding to the ghost–world of Ossian, and the only thing that distinguishes the appearance of Thorlaug’s ghost from that of one in Ossian is that Gerstenberg has breathed a Christian spirit into his resurrection, in contradistinction to the dismal and sometimes terrible apparitions of Ossian. We are reminded of Ossian’s ghosts when Gerstenberg sings:

(1. Canto.)

(2. Canto.)

Compare “Cath–Loda,” Duan iii, first four ll.[128] The tone is Ossianic in the third canto when Thorlaug sings:

‘Lonely’ and ‘forlorn’ are standing epithets of Ossian, and “Fingal,” Bk. iv, p. 252, last line, has: “My sighs shall be on Cromla’s wind;” etc., etc. Pfau[130] has suggested that Ossian may be responsible for the abrupt manner in which the strife between Thorlaug and his foe is commenced, for Ossian’s heroes are always ready to draw the sword. I think it very questionable that Ossian’s influence was at work here. Pfau, however, has correctly observed that the epithet ‘red’ as applied to the eye of Thorlaug’s foe (3. Canto) must be ascribed to Ossian:

Occasional scenic resemblances to Ossian are also found, e. g., in the second canto we have the “silent stone of the hills”[132] and:

Compare “Dar–Thula,” p. 281, ll. 23–4: “The blast came rustling in the tops of Seláma’s groves;” “Fingal,” Bk. i, p. 216, ll. 16–7: “murmuring rivulets;” “Temora,” Bk. iii, p. 326, l. 36–p. 327, l. 1: “On Crona ... there bursts a stream.... It swells in its ... course.... Then comes it white from the hill;” “Temora,” Bk. iv, p. 338, l. 33: “Streams leap down from the rocks,” etc. Ossianic in spirit is also the following description: (4. Canto.)

Iduna. Ariadne auf Naxos.—Gerstenberg very soon turned his attention completely away from the old Norse mythology and we have only one other poem written under its spell, Iduna, which also contains several traces of Ossian’s influence, e. g., the line: “So glitt ich auf Dünsten dahin!”[135] “Am Busen des Windes”[136] recalls Ossian’s “on the bosom of winds,”[137] as “Des Mädchens mit den weissen Armen”[138] suggests Ossian’s “white armed maidens.” The influence is visible also in occasional touches in the cantata Ariadne auf Naxos (1765), for example when Ariadne sings:

we involuntarily recall the secret tears of joy and the rising and swelling of the breasts of Ossian’s maidens, and when she speeds “wie ein Strahl vom Himmel seinen Armen zu”[140] we are reminded of Ossian’s frequent comparisons of a hero or heroine to a beam of the sky or from heaven, or to a stream of light, to a sun–beam or a moon–beam. The entire atmosphere of the cantata is really Ossianic: the maiden lamenting on a desert rock surrounded by the wild ocean:

What is more, the plot reminds us very much of a portion of “Berrathon,” as will be seen by a look at the argument of the latter.

A number of Gerstenberg’s shorter poems make use of the grove with its moss and the oak, the echo, the harp, and other bardic properties, without, however, acquiring the real bardic character. Ossian’s influence is here too inconsiderable to warrant a discussion of the poems in detail.

Ugolino.[142]—The influence that this drama, which was finished in 1767, exerted upon the Storm and Stress movement, its important bearing upon the popularization of Shakspere in Germany, and questions of a similar tenor cannot be entered into here, yet we cannot pass by the drama without pointing out at least some phases of Ossian’s influence, which, while not comparable in importance to that of Shakspere, is nevertheless not inconsiderable. The danger confronts us of attributing Shaksperian characteristics to Ossian. The bard’s influence is noticeable particularly in the figurative language, e. g., when Ugolino in the first act says: “Dass ich nicht in dem gerechten Zorne meiner Seele mich erheben ... konnte!”[143] Compare Ossian’s “rage of his soul,” “rise in wrath,” and the like. In the same act Anselmo says: “Dein Kommen ist mir erwünschter als der jugendliche Morgen,”[144] to which compare “Comala,” p. 139, l. 22: “bright as the coming forth of the morning.” Jacobs[145] suggests that Gerstenberg probably had his Ossian in mind when he had Francesco say in the first act: “Wenn er sich nur nicht ... herab stürzt, gleich dem erhabnen Vogel, der sich ins Steinthal wirft.”[146] Compare “Temora,” Bk. ii, p. 321, ll. 31–2: “Descending like the eagle of heaven, ... the son of Trenmor came;” Bk. viii, p. 369, ll. 11–2: “... the windy rocks, from which I spread my eagle–wings,” etc., etc. In the second act, Anselmo considers himself “flüchtiger als ein junges Reh,”[147] a comparison of which Ossian is exceedingly fond.[148] Gaddo and Anselmo shed regular Ossianic “tears of joy.” In the second act Anselmo refers to Francesco having ridden off “auf dem Rücken des Windes”;[149] compare “The War of Caros,” p. 193, l. 26: “The rustling winds have carried him far away;”[150] “Temora,” Bk. viii, p. 366, l. 21: “From this I shall mount the breeze.” Ossianic furthermore are Anselmo’s exclamations: “Lasst die Hörner tönen am hallenden Fels!”[151] and “o du mit der finstern Stirne!”[152] which call up Ossian’s ‘echoing rock’ and his ‘dark’ or ‘gloomy brow.’

When Gerstenberg has Ugolino say of his wife in the third act: “Kalt [ist] der Schnee ihrer Brust,”[153] and when he speaks of the “Seufzer ihres Busens,”[154] he was no doubt thinking of the snowy breasts of Ossian’s maidens and of the sighs of their bosoms. In the same act Francesco uses a comparison that is taken directly from Ossian:[155] “Du wirst fallen,” he says, “wie der Stamm einer Eiche, alle deine Äste um dich hergebreitet.”[156] Compare “Temora,”[157] Bk. iii, p. 328, ll. 25–6: “Like a young oak falls Tur–lathon, with his branches round him,” etc. In the last act Ugolino, speaking of the death of his son, says: “Wann ward dieser erste Ast vom Stamme gerissen?”[158] His opening monolog in the fourth act shows a decided Ossianic influence; e. g., “sein bleifarbigtes wässeriges Angesicht tobte vom Sturm seiner Seele; er wälzte seine ... Augen weit hervor,”[159] etc. In Ossian we have a “watery and dim face,” a “grey watery face,” and a soul “folded in a storm,” and as for rolling eyes, that is a property that no Ossianic warrior may be without, and one of the first that a Storm and Stress poet would be led to adopt. Further along in the monolog, Ugolino says: “Doch der grosse Morgen wird ja kommen! schrecklich, dunkelroth und schwül von Gewittern wird er ja kommen! In seinem schwarzen Strahle will ich erlöschen! In seiner gebärenden Wolke soll, wie Feuer vom Himmel, mein Geist über Pisa stehn!”[160] This picture is as Ossianic as it can be. The ghosts of Ossian sit upon their clouds; they ride on beams of fire, and are compared to meteors of fire or to a terrible light. Ossianic spirits appear again a little later in the act, when Francesco says of Anselmo: “... seine Geister scheinen sich zu sammeln,”[161] and in the last act, where we read of a “wandernden Geist,” which shall remain near the beloved ones.[162] And then Francesco: “Ah! deine Geister sind im Aufruhr! Sammle sie, geliebter theurer Anselmo.” All this, however, is only a weak foretaste of the great importance that the ghosts of Ossian assume in Gerstenberg’s later drama, in Minona, to the discussion of which I shall proceed after a short reference to Der Waldjüngling. The illustrations given are not intended to be exhaustive, but to give a general idea of the character of Ossianic traces as they are exhibited in the various works.

Der Waldjüngling.—As an appendix to his treatise on Ugolino, Jacobs published a fragment by Gerstenberg entitled Der Waldjüngling, which in spirit shows a combination of Rousseau’s doctrine of the return to nature plus the leaning towards Norse antiquity, towards the poetry of the bards. The combination is attempted by sketching the life of a primitive man, un homme sauvage, transferred to the woods of Scandinavia. The small portion of the drama that has been preserved to us was written probably in 1770.[163]

As it incorporates the bardic spirit in its very essence, we shall not search in vain for reminiscences of Ossian, which, as in Ugolino, are met with in large part in the epithets and images. The Scandinavian scenery partakes of the characteristics of the Scotch Highlands as pictured by Ossian. The names of the characters, Hvanar, Cindiskraka (cp. Ossian’s Craca), Svanhilde, Arnas, Flino, Heener, Mimur, have Celtic as well as Germanic elements, and these characters talk much like the characters of Ossian. Mimur, e. g., in l. 122 laments in the strain of Ossian: “Ich bin alt und schwach,” etc. In l. 9, Cindiskraka is addressed as “Du Bewohnerinn der Felshöhle mit dem krähschwarzen Haar,” to which compare Ossian’s “dweller of the rock,”[164] and hair “dark as the raven’s wing.”[165] Further along (l. 36) we have a flute “Die des armen Mädchens verschwiegenen Kummer einsam seufzt.” This is a typical line. Ossian’s maidens have a habit of sitting ‘alone,’ nursing their ‘silent grief,’ giving vent to their sorrow in ‘secret sighs.’—Mimur styles Hilde (l. 78) in true Ossianic language: “Der Ruhm der Hirtinnen auf dem Gebirg,” and invests the forest youth in ll. 114–5 with the characteristic attributes of the ideal heroes of Ossian, ‘terrible’ in battle, but in peace ‘generous and mild’:[166]

Ossianic is Hvanar’s characterization of himself (l. 152): “Ich bin ein Sohn des Meeres, rauh, wie der Sturm, ...” and a few Ossianic images from nature also occur.

Minona.—We have no conclusive proof that Gerstenberg later in life lost his early scruples in regard to Ossian’s authenticity, but if circumstantial evidence carry any weight, there can be no doubt that he came to regard Ossian as genuine, at least for a time. And this evidence is furnished by the drama Minona, first published in 1785, Gerstenberg’s favorite production and one that gave him the greatest concern in the preparation of the edition of his works late in life. For this edition (1815–6) he worked over the entire drama and increased it from four acts to five, and by assigning to it the place of honor at the head of the list, furnished testimony to his fondness for this particular child of his muse. The action of the drama is laid in Britain in the fifth century, at the time when the Low German continental tribes were called over by the Britons to assist them against the incursions of the Picts. The Romans, who had refused to aid the British province against the Picts, also play an important part. Everything is mixed together, and of course anachronisms abound: Norse gods, skalds, druids, bards, Ossianic spirits, all are thrown together in one multi–colored complex. The spirit of the play is Ossianic throughout, and external as well as internal characters of Ossian’s influence are not lacking. Several of the characters are taken directly from Ossian, others only in name, e. g., Trenmor, King of Morven; Minona, his sister; Ryno, a bard of Ossian; Swaran, Lord of Lochlin. Edelstan, the hero, lord of Inisthona, is a son of Frothal and a grandson of Bosmina. During the perusal of the drama we are continually reminded that the author has made a thorough study of his Ossian. Selma is the name of the royal residence in Morven, just as it is in Ossian. Minona is a typical Celtic maiden as described by Ossian, just as Ryno is the Ossianic bard comme il faut. Just as Ossian’s Minona was possessed of the gift of song,[167] so Gerstenberg’s Minona has the reputation of being the “gesangreichste der Harfen Selma’s.”[168] In the review of the drama that appeared in the Allgemeine deutsche Bibliothek,[169] Minona is characterized as “grossmüthig und liebevoll, aber auch sittsam und duldend, eine würdige Schülerin der Barden,” and Ryno as “ein kraftvoller, biedrer Barde.” The Roman Äzia betrothed to Aurelius, a Roman commander, in spite of her dazzling personal charms, suffers in comparison with the modest Celtic maiden in much the same way as the heroes of Homer were often put to shame by their Celtic rivals.

The Ossianic scene par excellence is the third division of the first scene of the second act, where Äzia and Edelstan are interrupted in a tête–à–tête by Ryno, the bard of Ossian. Nothing can convey a better idea of the hold that Ossian had on Gerstenberg than to quote a passage from this scene.[170] Ryno announces himself as:

“ehemals Ferchio’s Gefährt’ in jener berühmten Schlacht deines Vaters Frothal zu Inisthona, ein Barde Ossians, heisse Ryno.”

Edelstan. Ryno?—ein Gefährte Ferchio’s?—ein Barde Ossian’s?—Welche Thaten, welche andre Zeiten, ... rufst du in mein Gedächtniss zurück?—Ryno?—... der mich jene unvergesslichen Gesänge von den Schlachten Lochlin’s lehrte, wie Ossian, die Stimme Selma’s, seinen geliebtern Oscar, den Mann aus andern Zeiten, nach Angeley—in der Sprache Morvens wie tönender! nach Inisthona—zu Hülfe sandte dem Vater meiner Väter, dem trauernden Annir—

Ryno. Wie der blutige Cormalo dem Arm des Starken aus Morven erlag, ‘dass die Söhne der vergifteten Lano, wo die Wolke des Tages rastet, gleich dunkelbraunen Hindinnen dahinflohen, unfähig den Gram ihres Stolzes zu rächen;’ wie Fingals holde Tochter, Bosmina mit den schwarzrollenden Augen, Runa’s tönende Halle betrat, ein wiederkehrender Stern dem Abend der Tage Annirs:—Bosmina später vermählt dem gewaltigen Ina, der einzigen übriggebliebenen Stütze des jammernden Annir, da Ruro fiel! da Argon fiel! dem hinterlassenen Säuglinge Ruro’s, die Mutter des königlichen Frothal, der erhabne Stamm deines so herrlich wieder aufblühenden Geschlechts ...

Edelstan. ...

Ryno. ... Gesegneter, wenn ich mich dir ein Bote des Friedens genaht hätte, würdig erfunden, den getrennten Stamm einer Eiche wieder aufzurichten, dass er noch einmal umherschaue, wie er vormals stand, sein tausendastiges Haupt weit umher verbreitend von Selma’s Halle bis zur Halle Runa’s, von Inisthona’s wogigem Strande bis über Morven’s fernher rauschende Thale!”[171]

How characteristically a bit of Ossianic history is told here and how faithfully the language of the poems of Ossian is copied! We should have to search long to find a passage in German literature that shows a more complete immersion in the spirit of Ossian.

In the scene from which we have just quoted, Fingal is called “das finstre Auge Morvens,” Trenmor “zog mit dem Winde seiner Küste luftig daher,” Fingal draws his sword against Lochlin “da Cuchullin unter Swaran’s Zehntausenden schwankte,” Ossian is referred to as “die Harfe aus andern Zeiten,”[172] etc., etc. It is scarcely necessary to give parallels from Ossian. Any one who has ever read a poem of Ossian will be struck by the close resemblance of all that has been quoted above. The historical allusions, the comparisons, the metaphorical expressions, the standing epithets, are all taken directly from the songs of Ossian.

Before taking up the spirits of Ossian, and in that connection the lyrical passages which are given much prominence throughout the drama—especially in the third act—I shall quote a few more instances of borrowings from Ossian. We have in the drama a hand “blendender als Schnee”[173] and a “blendend weisse Hand;”[174] Minona has dark–black hair, which “floss vermuthlich in niedlichen Ringelchen über ihren blendend weissen Nacken herunter.”[175] Ryno and Edelstan “glaubten ... ein Sausen in der Luft zu hören, als wenn der Wind sich erhebt.”[176] The motif of Edelstan’s delivery from the cave is taken from Ossian, “Calthon and Colmal,”[177] as is Minona’s imprisonment in a cave on the isle of ghosts.[178] The scenic description of the cave in which Minona is held captive is characteristic: “Scene eine dunkle Höhle; über der Höhle der Mond im ersten Viertel, der ein schwaches Licht in das Innere der Höhle wirft.”[179]

Nothing gave the critics so much concern upon the first appearance of Minona as the machinery of the spirits. They begin their influential incantations in the second act, and from that moment on occupy a prominent position in the economy of the play to the very end. Some of these lyrical passages are by no means of a mean order, but we are now and again at a loss to grasp the poet’s meaning. The critic in the Neue Bibliothek der schönen Wissenschaften, speaking of the songs at the close, says: “Diese Gesänge sind, uns wenigstens, verschlossene Worte;”[180] and again, speaking of that of the spirits in the second act: “Dass uns manche Stellen dieses Liedes ganz unerklärbar geblieben sind, hat uns desto weniger befremdet, da, wie Ryno oben versicherte, selbst nur wenigen Barden die ätherischen Ströme dieses Gesanges verständlich sind.”[181] And in the same strain the critic in the Allgemeine Literaturzeitung writes: “In dem was die Geister zuletzt singen ... sind schöne Verse: Aber manche so schwer zu verstehn, dass der Leser, geschweige der Hörer ihren Sinn nicht fasst..”.[182] The same reviewer refers to the unusually lofty, simple Ossianic tone of the spirit scenes. The importance assigned to these spirits in the structure of the drama can best be judged by reading Gerstenberg’s own view as expressed in the second Schreiben prefixed to his works: “Mit den Ossianischen Geistern, über die mancher damalige Kunstrichter den Kopf schüttelte bin ich weniger verlegen: sie sind die Unterlage des Ganzen, und ich brauche der Anlage nach, ihnen nur mehr Spielraum zu verschaffen; mein Drama von den Angelsachsen würde nicht zugleich meine Oper von Minona und der Zukunft seyn, wenn ich die Geister aus dem Spiele liesse.”[183] This is not the place to discuss the question whether Gerstenberg was justified in the introduction of this mystic spirit–world into his drama, and so I shall proceed to look at the songs at once. The ghosts, or rather the voices of the ghosts, make their first appearance, as has been observed, in the second act. Minona, captive in the cave is singing a song to the accompaniment of the harp, when enchanting spirit voices become audible and cause her to be filled with rapture. This song, in which she is interrupted, as well as her other airs and recitatives, are Ossianic in tone and motif, indeed, wherever Gerstenberg falls into the lyric strain, Ossian’s influence becomes apparent in one feature or another:

Minona gives expression to her rapture in ecstatic terms, of course in Ossianic language, and what is more, in Macpherson’s rhythmic prose. A paragraph or two may serve for illustration:

Diese Fluth von wunderbaren Tönen, die sich wie ein Meer über mich ausgiesst, die durch den hohlen Abgrund der Felsen im Donner des Wohllauts daher rollt, ist sie ein Spiel der Lüfte in den Wölbungen der Tiefe? widerprallend an den jähen Wänden des innern Gebirgs?[185]

[Ist’s] Vielleicht Fingal’s Schild aus der hängenden Wolke herab? vielleicht Fingals geistige Hand, die an dem Schilde vorüberrauscht?

Vielleicht die tonvolle Harfe aus andern Lüften, Ossians Harfe aus andern Zeiten?[186]

These voices have given Minona a foretaste of the delights beyond the grave:

Wo, mich schwesterlich bewillkommend, Malvina, Bosmina, Comala, Guthona, die holdseligen, von ihrem und meinem Ossian so edel besungenen, Töchter der Vorzeit alle, in der Begeisterung seines erhabenen Gesanges zu seinen Füssen hingelagert und horchend, beisammen sässen, und ich, seine neu angelangte ... Zuhörerin, in Wonnethränen der namenlosesten Gefühle überflösse![187]

The ghosts that chant these songs are endowed with all the qualities of their Ossianic prototypes—especially with the gift of foretelling the future—and why should they not, seeing that they are intended to represent the incarnation of the songs of Ossian.[188] They are the spirits of Ossian, and the spirits of Ossian “sind die veredelte Menschlichkeit selbst.”[189] As for the songs of the ghosts, the solos, duets, choruses, and what not, as they begin in this act and are continued throughout the third and fifth acts, it would be impossible to take up each verse in detail. Suffice it to say, that the songs bear the ideal stamp of the influence of Ossian, which is expressed in more ways than one. I quote one or two passages in illustration. Several voices sing in the second act:

Compare “Fingal,” Bk. vi, p. 261, l. 24: “Fingal leaned on the shield;” also Ossian’s skirt, edge, or side of the cloud. So in the third act Minona sings:

Compare “The War of Inis–Thona,” p. 206, ll. 15–6: “Stormy clouds ... their edges are tinged with lightning,” etc.—Minona is referred to by the ghosts as the ‘daughter of Selma,’ and Edelstan as the ‘star of Inis–Thona,’ and the ‘star of night.’ Towards the end of the third act the voices sing:

In rebellious opposition to these spirits of Ossian are the druids, who refer to the songs of the ghosts as “die verführerischen Gesänge Ossians, des Tonangebers der ganzen harfnenden Bande,”[194] and again as “die aufrührerischen Gesänge eines unserer Barden—Ossian hiess der Erzketzer.”[195] The druids rely on the spirits of Brumo,[196] the god of human sacrifice, and Brumo’s spirits, says the chief druid, “pflegen nicht in dieser weibisch weichen ... Ossianssprache ... zu reden.”[197] Brumo corresponds very closely to Ossian’s Loda, to his ‘terrible spirit of the circle of stones.’ Ossian likewise furnished abundant material for the rites of the druids as they are described in the last act.

In addition to the songs of the ghosts, we have two Bardiete in the drama, one in Act 4, 8, the other in Act 4, 9. Needless to say, Ossian’s influence is plainly discernible. The first begins thus:

In the first edition the ending of the drama was somewhat differently motivated, inasmuch as Äzia, clothed in the armor of a warrior, allows herself to be captured by some of Edelstan’s soldiers and makes an attempt to assassinate Minona, but is foiled in the effort by Ryno. Undoubtedly this motif of the disguise was taken from Ossian, where we find almost a dozen examples of maids taking on the disguise of a youth.[199]

Many of the geographical and historical notes to the drama are based upon Macpherson, “dessen historische Data noch Niemand angefochten hat.”[200] From the notes to the first edition of Minona we can get some idea of Gerstenberg’s opinion of Ossian in the middle of the eighties. He says in note 8: “Auch können wir uns aus dem Ossian, dessen historische Data wenigstens itzt keinen Einwand mehr leiden, wenn gleich die Ächtheit seiner gegenwärtigen epischen und dramatischen Gestalt noch etwaz zweydeutig seyn möchte, ganz vernünftig überzeugen,” etc. And in note 14 he writes: “Es wäre ein gut Theil gewagter gewesen, einer alten Chronik, als der lautern Quelle Ossians nachzuspüren.” Another note (the 10th) gives evidence of the popularity that Ossian still enjoyed as late as 1785: “Was übrigens die ossianische Urkunde von Inisthona betrifft, ... so hat sich der Verfasser berechtigt geglaubt, diese Geschichte als aus einem der classischen Werke unsers Jahrhunderts allgemein bekannt vorauszusetzen...” These notes are omitted in the final version of 1815, a fact which leads me to believe that Gerstenberg’s early scruples returned to him late in life. Minona had served to dispel them momentarily, but no doubt the unsatisfactory character of the Report of the Committee of the Highland Society and the aspersions cast upon Macpherson’s translation by Ahlwardt served to reëstablish them in his wavering mind.

§3. Johann Nepomuk Cosmas Michael Denis.[201]

No one did more to increase the knowledge of Ossian in Germany and to enlarge the sphere of his influence there, than did the Jesuit Michael Denis, a native of Bavaria, who took up his residence in Vienna early in life and there spent the remainder of his days. Although himself the author of a considerable number of poetic productions, his contemporary fame was based primarily upon his translation of Ossian, which created a great stir at the time of its appearance, setting all the previous efforts at translation in the shade for good and all. It remained for many years the standard, the classical German translation of the works of Ossian, in spite of the fact that the mold in which it is cast aroused the most violent opposition from many quarters.

Denis had been led to the study of English by his admiration for Klopstock’s Messiah, the prototype of which, Paradise Lost, he was desirous of reading in the original. When he began his translation in 1767, he was well equipped for the task as far as a knowledge of the language is concerned, and the true poetical genius that he lacked was compensated for in large measure by the sincere enthusiasm with which he set about his task. A serious obstacle presented itself at the very outset: there was not a copy of Macpherson’s Ossianic poems to be had in Vienna. Nothing daunted, Denis commenced by translating from Cesarotti’s Italian translation—which had appeared at Padua in 1763[202]—a fact that explains the presence of the notes from Cesarotti interspersed throughout his translation. Fortunately he soon obtained a copy of the English original from Prague, whereupon he destroyed all he had so far done and started in afresh. His enthusiasm for the Messiah led to the choice of the hexameter for his translation. Denis was a very rapid worker, a quality that stood him in good stead in the manufacture of the many occasional poems that emanated from his pen. Once on the right track, he worked at his translation with the utmost diligence and persistence and pushed it rapidly to a conclusion, volumes 1 and 2 appearing in 1768, and volume 3 in the following year. The two editions that appeared simultaneously apparently found a ready sale. In the preface to the first volume, Denis confesses what an instantaneous effect the songs of Ossian had upon him. “Kaum hatte ich ein paar Gedichte durchgelesen,” he says, “als ich ihn in meinen Gedanken Homern und Virgiln an die Seite setzte.” And when Ossian received Klopstock’s stamp of approval, Denis was overjoyed. “Wie froh war ich! Ich fieng zu übersetzen an.”[203] At the conclusion of the preface he expresses doubts as to the gracious reception of the translation: “Ossian ist viel zu sonderlich,” he thinks, “viel zu unmodern, viel zu unterschieden von denen Dichtern, die man immer in den Händen hat. Allein, wenn man nur einmal mit seinem Geiste bekannter wird, wenn seine Art sich auszudrücken durch ein wiederholtes Lesen ihre Ungewöhnlichkeit verlieret, dann, dächte ich, sollte er nach dem Engländer am ersten bei einem Deutschen sein Glück machen.” It was only a few years later that the real Ossian craze began in Germany, and then Denis was to realize that these unmodern poems with their sentimental coloring appealed even more strongly to the German soul than they did to the English.

Dr. Blair’s arguments were not needed to convince Denis of the authenticity of the poems. He could not accept as spurious poems whose author he had in his first enthusiasm placed by the side of Homer and Vergil, unless irrefutable proof of forgery were given, and this was not forthcoming. And so when Dr. Blair in the appendix to his “Dissertation” in the edition of 1765 undertakes to defend the poems for external reasons also, Denis is led to remark: “Alle diese Gründe dürften für England und Irland, wo vielleicht Scheelsucht und Partheylichkeit Zweifler erwecket haben mag, nöthiger seyn. Einen von Vorurtheilen freyen deutschen Kenner wird immer der innere Gehalt genugsam überzeugen, das[s] Ossians Gedichte nicht unterschoben, sondern wahrhaft alte Gedichte sind.” Denis never took the trouble to institute any original researches or to devote himself to a serious study of this field, but accepted the genuineness of the poems as a matter of course. The unanimity of the German critics allowed no scruples to arise in his mind to vex him.

The reception granted the translation was most flattering indeed, and Denis could not but feel completely satisfied with the result of his labors. Nicolai, e. g., writes from Berlin, as early as Nov. 14, 1769: “Ihre vortreffliche Übersetzung des Ossian, ist auch in unsern Gegenden in den Händen aller Kenner; ich auch habe sie mit grossem Vergnügen gelesen, und sie stets für eins der wichtigsten Neuen Werke gehalten.”[204] Gleim sends Denis his ‘poetical trifles,’ “aus Dankbarkeit vornehmlich für das Vergnügen, welches der deutsche Ossian ihm machte.”[205] Denis writes in the preface to Vol. 3: “Seitdem der erste Band dieser Uebersetzung in Deutschland bekannt geworden ist, sind mir verschiedene Beweise zugekommen, dass sie dort ganz gut aufgenommen worden sey, wo ich es am meisten wünschte.” The reviews in the Neue Bibliothek der schönen Wissenschaften, in the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, in the Göttingische Anzeigen von gelehrten Sachen, and elsewhere, all were extremely gratifying, and only one note of disapproval insisted upon asserting itself, a note that found most emphatic expression in the Erfurtische gelehrte Zeitungen: the form of the translation met with pronounced opposition. The most important of these reviews is that in the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek. It was written by Herder, who designates the departure as “neu und schön,” and refers to the poems of Ossian as “diese kostbaren Ueberbleibsel aus der alten celtischen oder gallischen Sprache.” But soon doubts arise: “So sind also die Gedichte Ossians in Hexameter übersezt—aber würde Ossian, wenn er in unsrer Sprache sie abgesungen, sie hexametrisch abgesungen haben? oder wenn die Frage zu nah und andringend ist; mag er in seiner Originalsprache den Hexameterbau begünstigt haben? ... Oder ...: thut Ossian in seinem homerischen Gewande eben die Würkung, als Ossian der Nordische Barde?”[206] Here was the rub: Denis had given Ossian, the Gaelic bard, the ‘rough, sublime Scotchman’ in the measure of a Greek rhapsodist. “Vielleicht aber wird er dadurch verschönert, und gleichsam classisch? Er mag es werden: nur er verliert mehr, als er gewinnt, den Bardenton seines Gesangs.”[207] The translation makes an epic, a heroic impression, but does not reproduce its natural Scotch heroic impression. Herder proceeds to show how Ossian and Homer are antitheses in almost every respect, and holds that in consequence the difference in expression should be emphasized by the choice of different meters. Although Herder regards many of Denis’s hexameters as melodious and euphonious, he opines that the free meters introduced by Klopstock in his odes are better adapted to a translation of the bard. That the translation made a favorable impression upon Herder in spite of its metrical drawbacks is evidenced by the concluding lines of the review: “Wir freuen uns überhaupt auf die ganze Fortsetzung der Dennisschen Arbeit mehr, als auf manche neuere süsslallende Originale in Deutschland, und wünschen, dass Ossian der Lieblingsdichter junger epischer Genies werde!”[208] Herder here had in mind Vol. 1 only; his review of Vols. 2 and 3 did not appear until three years later, in 1772, being written at about the same time as the “Auszug aus einem Briefwechsel über Ossian und die Lieder alter Völker,” which opened the Blätter von Deutscher Art und Kunst.[209] His view–point and line of argument are to all intents and purposes identical in the review and the essay. In the review he laments: “Noch immer Ossian der Hexametrist, der Klopstockianer, da man Ossian den kurztönenden, unregelmässigen Celtischen Barden hören sollte.”[210] Again and again Herder returns to the attack; he can not reconcile the smooth poetry of Denis with the unpolished bard. The soft lyric cadence of Denis’s verses appeals to Herder, to be sure, but “hier, so sanft, so vieltönig und schön sie sey, hier passet sie Ossianen oft so an, als etwa einen Samojedischen Gesandten bey der russischen Gesetzkommission das Ceremonienkleid des Hofmarschalls.”[211] But not alone the hexameters aroused Herder’s dissatisfaction; his displeasure increases when he views Denis’s attempt to translate a poem in the measure employed by Gerstenberg in his Gedicht eines Skalden. Here Denis employs rime with poor success, and we must agree with Herder when he says: “Denis gelingen nicht Reime!”[212]

There was still another side from which Herder attacked the translation; he was not content with the language employed, which he did not consider natural enough; too many words were not sufficiently indigenous. “War Ossian nicht unser Bruder?” he asks, “und welch’ ein Glück, welch ewiges Verdienst wäre es, ihn so zu verdeutschen, als ob er, ein Deutscher gewesen wäre: das er doch, der Hälfte nach, gewesen ist.”[213]

I hinted above that Herder was not the only critic who was ill–pleased with Denis’s choice of the hexameter. A similar chord is struck in other reviews, in the introductions to several later translations, and elsewhere.

The most appreciative notice of Denis’s translation was that in the Neue Bibliothek der schönen Wissenschaften. From beginning to end the review teems with praise for the translator, as well as for old Ossian himself. “Wir haben die Entdeckung der Gedichte Ossians,” begins the critic, “immer für eine der wichtigsten Begebenheiten dieses Jahrhunderts in der Geschichte des Witzes und Geschmacks unsers Jahrhunderts gehalten. Ihre Avthenticität ist nunmehro eben so sehr entschieden, als ihre Vortrefflichkeit.”[214] Not only does the critic refrain from discountenancing the employment of the hexameter, but, like the reviewer in the Hamburgischer Correspondent, he even expresses his admiration for the verses. “In der That,” he says, “haben wir kaum wohlklingendere deutsche Hexameter gesehen.”[215] In order to bring the value of the poetical translation more vividly before the reader, an extract from Denis’s translation is given[216] and compared with a literal prose translation that follows.[217] The value of such long extracts must not be underestimated. They occurred frequently and no doubt aroused an interest in the original in many a reader. As an illustration of the lyrical measure in which Denis translated the distinctively lyrical passages of Ossian, Carril’s song on the death of Crugal is given.[218] Besides we have an extract from the beginning of “Comala” and a prose version of the extract for comparison. “Comala” is one of the poems that Denis had clothed in rime, giving it the form of a modern Singspiel, and with this raiment the reviewer is not quite satisfied. Other voices were raised in opposition to the general form Denis had given the dramatic poem. The latter, appreciating the justice of the position of the critics, changed the structure for the edition of 1784,[219] but at the same time inserted the poem in its original form in another volume,[220] in order to satisfy those who preferred it in that shape. The objection to the first form of “Comala” we find also in the review in the Göttingische gelehrte Anzeigen, where the critic writes: “Die Comala deucht uns nicht sehr glücklich ausgefallen zu seyn....Will man sagen: es sey Ossians Comala in ein Singspiel verwandelt, so sind wir zufrieden. Aber Ossian ist es nicht.”[221] Otherwise this review of the first volume of Denis’s translation is full of compliments to the genius of the translator. The critic expresses the opinion that the poems of Ossian have gained much by the new form. Especially does the hexameter tend to give “Fingal” the character of a true epic. On the whole, the reviewer is as much impressed with the necessity of the translation on the one hand as with the beauty of the original on the other, “Es kan diese Uebersetzung nach unserm deutschen epischen Originaldichter [Klopstock] billig gesetzet werden, billig einen nahen Platz erhalten; selbst in so fern der alte Barde mit unserm Gefühl, und mit unsern National–Begriffen von den ersten Zeiten weit mehr übereinstimmt, als ein Homer und Virgil.”[222]

I shall refrain from a detailed discussion of the character of the translation and would refer the reader to Hofmann–Wellenhof’s biography, pp. 163–91. Denis’s was the first translation to give the works of Ossian in full, and attracted attention by reason of that fact alone. He adhered as closely as possible to the original, but from the very nature of the case, he had often to expand.[223] Provincialisms abound. It cannot be denied that he failed to reproduce the spirit as given to the original by Macpherson, yet when all is said, Denis’s translation is facile princeps among the complete German translations. The hexameters lend an air of stateliness and dignity to the poems and give them more the air of a classic. What is more, the novel introduction of hexameters evoked a lively discussion and so stimulated the popular interest in Ossian. The translation became a model for the school of the bards, most of whom derived their knowledge primarily from the version of their revered confrère. During Denis’s lifetime, that is, until the opening of the new century, his translation remained the standard for Germany.[224] About the time of his death, the so–called Gaelic original began to occupy the chief attention, and when Ahlwardt’s translation from the Gaelic appeared, it superseded that of Denis in the popular favor for a time, that is to say, until it began to be suspected that the Gaelic original was not all that was claimed for it.

The first collection of Denis’s poems, of the songs of Sined, appeared in 1772 under the title of Die Lieder Sineds des Barden. We have not far to go to discover a typical instance of the nature of Ossian’s influence. The very first poem, “An Ossians Geist,” will serve as a splendid example. The poem begins as follows:

And so on. It is scarcely necessary to point out how closely the Ossianic spirit and nature coloring have been adhered to. The Ossianic paraphernalia are all present, the silent vale,[226] the moon, the sacred oaks, the ghosts of the bards, the clouds upon which they float along the sides of the mountains,[227] the songs of the times of old attuned to the accompaniment of the harp; not even the echo is missing, resounding from woods and fields. These and similar Ossianic properties are continually resorted to in Denis’s bardic productions. They give an archaic character to the whole, and lend a certain picturesqueness to the scene—when not employed to excess. We have further along “Saiten von Selma,” Ossian’s oft repeated ‘harp of Selma,’ “Zähren der Wehmuth,” “Wipfel der Eichen,” “moosige Trümmer,” etc. Denis proceeds to narrate the principal subjects of the poems of Ossian, and then confesses what an effect Ossian made upon him from the very outset; he tells us how he persisted in his purpose in spite of the fact that many of his old listeners deserted him. He concludes with the following lines:

We should expect Denis, as a strong admirer and pupil of Klopstock, to follow in the footsteps of his master by introducing the old Norse mythology into his bardic efforts. As a matter of fact, however, it is almost completely lacking, a circumstance perhaps best explained by his religious calling.[230] About the sole indications of an interest in Old Norse are the seven songs following the first poem. Being translations and paraphrases of Old Norse material, they do not concern us here.

Next come a number of occasional poems addressed to Maria Theresa and to Joseph II. On pages 85–143 we have the “Bardenfeyer am Tage Theresiens,” first published in Vienna in 1770, in which the various offices and qualities of the empress are sung by different bards. The spirit of Klopstock and Ossian hovers over all these poems, as will appear from the extracts to follow. We shall notice also that the bardic machinery and Ossian’s imagery are not neglected. The bards are described as “Die Geber des Ruhmes, die Söhne der Lieder,”[231] and are endowed with all the other characteristics of those of Ossian, as, for example, with the power of looking into the future.[232]

The poem “An Ossians Geist” showed us that Denis adopted the spirit world of Ossian, and like Klopstock and Gerstenberg, he has ghosts appear on all possible occasions, e. g., in “Theresia die Fürstinn,” which begins (p. 89):

So in Ossian “the forms of the fathers bend” from their ‘cloudy–hall.’

In the same poem (p. 92) we have a “verfinsterte Seele,” Ossian’s ‘darkened soul.’[234]

In the next poem, “Theresia die Gattinn,” we have several Ossianic expressions, e. g. (p. 98):

We have had occasion before to point out Ossian’s comparisons to a deer, and his locks black as a raven’s wings. Theresa, in true Ossianic manner, is compared to the rainbow, a star, a pine,[235] etc., and in the following poem she is said to be fairer than the moon or an oak.[236] After the death of her husband she often visits his grave:

“the joy of grief.” His ghost, of course, does his duty and pays her an occasional visit.[238]

A truly Ossianic picture and comparison are given in the third stanza of the following poem, “Theresia die Mutter” (p. 103):

Ossian’s maidens are generally either “bright as the sun–beam,” or else “fair as the moon.” Compare also Ossian’s apostrophe to the moon, beginning of “Dar–Thula.” In another line of the poem (p. 106) we have “Seelen schmelzen” and likewise in “Calthon and Colmal,” p. 183, ll. 21–2: “The soul ... melted;” “Temora,” Bk. ii, p. 318, ll. 3–4, etc., etc.

The tenth stanza of “Theresia die Kriegerinn” is decidedly Ossianic:

Compare “Carric–Thura,” p. 149, ll. 35–6: “The tear rolled down her cheek,” etc. The comparison of swords to lightning, to beams of fire, or to meteors occurs again and again in Ossian.[240] In the following stanza the rush of the warriors is described (p. 110):

Ossian is very fond of comparing the rush of a host to the wind.[241] Bartmar has to sing of battle, and it is not astonishing that we find in his song more traces of Ossian’s influence than in any other song of the “Bardenfeyer,” the general peaceful atmosphere of which does not offer the same possibilities for the insertion of Ossianic material. The ghosts of the fallen warriors make their appearance before the close of the battle. Theresa’s eye makes the warrior bold: