THE

DUBLIN REVIEW.

OCTOBER, 1837.

ART. I.-Novalis Schriften. Herausgegeben von L. Tieck und F. Schlegel. Berlin. 1826.-The Writings of Novalis. Edited by L. Tieck and F. Schlegel. Berlin. 1826. 4th Edit.

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OVALIS belonged to that brilliant society, consisting, besides himself, of Tieck and the two Schlegels, which, at the commencement of the present century, produced a mighty revolution in German literature; and has exerted an influence not more extensive than beneficial on the German mind. If new and purer views of art"* have been established-if the progress of that literary Paganism which Lessing, and Herder, and Voss, and Göthe, had encouraged and promoted, hath been happily arrested-if while the fullest justice hath been rendered to the claims of antique genius, the long-neglected art and literature of the Middle Age have regained their hold on our sympathies and admiration-if, as in the case of Novalis and F. Schlegel, the foundations have been laid for a Christian school in history and metaphysics-it is by the illustrious men we speak of, that these benefits have been achieved. And if to these we add the name of Stolberg, for the department of theology and ecclesiastical history, we have then named the five Promethean spirits that in our age brought down new fire from heaven, and recast, as it were, the mould of the German mind.

In this article it is our intention to review the interesting biography of Novalis, which Tieck has prefixed to the fourth edition of his friend's writings; next among those writings we shall particularly call the reader's attention to a beautiful historical fragment, entitled "Christendom," as well as to many of his detached thoughts on religion, literature, and politics; and we shall conclude with a short parallel between him and his most distinguished literary friend and associate.

Frederick von Hardenberg, called Novalis, was born on the 2nd of May, 1772, on a family estate in the Countship of

* Wiseman's "Connexion of Science and Revealed Religion." VOL. III.-NO. VI.

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Mansfeld. His father, the Baron von Hardenberg, was director of the salt-mines of Saxony. He was a member of the community of Hernhutters; and was distinguished as much for his frankness and liveliness of character, as for his virtue and piety. His wife belonged to the same religious community, and was a pattern of domestic virtue. The occupations of her husband often occasioning his absence from home, the care of directing her children's education devolved upon her; and this trust she executed with a zeal and an intelligence, crowned by Providence with the best success. Novalis was the second of eleven children. In his first years he was very weakly, very quiet and retiring in his manners, giving no indication of particular talent, and remarked only by his peculiar fondness for his mother. recovering from a dangerous illness, which he experienced in his ninth year, he became more lively and active, and evinced greater aptitude for learning. At twelve years of age, he already possessed a pretty tolerable knowledge of Latin, and some acquaintance with Greek; and his biographer informs us, that at that early period he composed some pieces of poetry, which are to be found among his papers.

On

From this time his application was unremitting; and history, especially, he read with uncommon avidity. In the year 1790, he went to study at the University of Jena; and in 1792 visited, with his brother Erasmus, the University of Leipzig. There he remained till the following year, when he repaired to the University of Wittenberg, and there completed his studies.

"At this time," says his distinguished friend and biographer Tieck, "he made the acquaintance of Frederick Schlegel, whose warmest friend he soon became; he also came to know Fichte, and these two spirits exerted a great and permanent influence on his whole life. The philosophical system of Fichte he studied after some time with unwearied zeal. When he had quitted Wittenberg, he went to Arnstadt in Thuringia, in order to initiate himself in affairs of public business under the director of the Circle, Just. This excellent man soon became one of his most confidential friends. It was not long after his arrival in Arnstadt, that on a neighbouring estate he was introduced to Sophia von K-———. The first view of this fair and surprisingly lovely creature decided his destiny; nay, we might almost say, that the deep lasting impression she made on his soul, formed the tenour of his whole existence. Even in the forms of infancy, there is at times an expression, which, as it is too sweet, too spiritually lovely, we call unearthly or heavenly; and these luminous and almost transparent faces usually excite an apprehension, that they are too tender, too delicately framed for this life, and that it is death or immortality which from those brilliant eyes gazes on us so significantly. And too often doth a rapid decay realize our fearful anticipations. Still more

captivating are those forms when they have happily passed infancy, and when they bloom in the first years of maidenhood. All those who have known the charming creature, the object of our friend's affection, concur in stating, that the grace and heavenly sweetness which encompassed this unearthly being, the beauty which shone about her, and the interest and majesty wherewith she was invested, exceeded all power of description. Novalis became a poet as often as he spoke of her. She had concluded her thirteenth year when he first became acquainted with her; the spring and summer of 1795 was the most blooming period of his life; every hour which he could snatch from business he passed in Grüningen, and in the autumn of that year he received from Sophia's parents the promise which was to decide his future destiny. Shortly after, Sophia fell dangerously ill of a fever, accompanied with stitches in the side; and although after some weeks she recovered, still the pains in the side continued, and by their extreme acuteness marred many a fair hour. Novalis was deeply affected by the illness of a creature he so much idolized; yet the assurance of her physician that these pains were not of a serious nature, tended to remove his uneasiness."-Life, p. 11-12.

Soon after her recovery, Novalis repaired to Weisenfels, and was appointed auditor in the department in which his father was director. The winter of 1795 found Novalis engaged in his new official pursuits, and enjoying the beloved society of his parents, and brothers, and sisters. The letters which he received from Grüningen gave him the most satisfactory accounts of Sophia's health; and he now confidently looked forward to a speedy union with the object of his most ardent affections. Alas! too soon were these pleasing hopes destined to be blighted. In the summer of 1796, Novalis received the distressing intelligence that Sophia had been obliged to repair to Jena to undergo a dangerous operation for an abscess on the lungs. He hastened thither to meet her. Her medical attendant gave him reason to think that her recovery would be slow. It was found necessary to repeat the operation; and this, the physician feared her feeble frame would be incapable of enduring. She languished for many months in a state of great debility, enduring all her sufferings with a heavenly fortitude and resignation. At last, on the 17th of March, 1797, this interesting creature expired in the arms of her sister, and of her faithful and affectionate governess, a Madlle. Danscours.

These melancholy tidings his brother Charles ventured, after some difficulty, to convey to Novalis.

"The latter," says his biographer, "secluded himself, and after three days and nights of weeping, repaired to his faithful friends at Arnstadt, in order to be near the spot which contained the remains of all he most valued on earth."

Among his writings we have found a beautiful letter, which he addressed to a friend on the death of Sophia. We shall take the liberty to translate one of the most interesting passages :

"It is my melancholy duty to convey to you the intelligence that Sophia is no more. After indescribable sufferings, which she endured with the most exemplary fortitude, she expired on the 17th of March, at half-past ten o'clock in the morning. She was born on the 17th of March, 1783, and on the 15th of March, 1795, I received from her the assurance that she would be mine. Since the 17th of November, 1795, she has been suffering. Eight days before her death I left her, with the strongest conviction that I should never again see her. It was beyond my power to remain an impotent spectator of the painful struggles under which youth in its first bloom succumbed-to witness the fearful anguish of this celestial creature. This fate I had never apprehended. It was but three weeks ago that I first perceived its threatening. Evening has closed around me, while I was yet looking for the dawn. My grief is as boundless as my love. For three years she was my hourly thought. She alone attached me to life, to my country, to my occupations. With her I am severed from all things, for I have almost lost my very self."-Works, p. 209.

This heart, so true, so devoted in love, was, as our readers may suppose, open to all the kindly feelings of fraternal affection.

His brother Erasmus, who had been long ailing, Novalis had the misfortune to lose on the 14th of April, 1797, about a month after Sophia's death. In a letter, which he addressed on this melancholy occasion to his brother Charles, who was absent on a journey, he writes as follows: "Be comforted, Erasmus hath triumphed; the flowers of the lovely wreath have detached themselves here, only to grow into a fairer and immortal crown above."

"At this period," says his biographer, "Novalis lived only for his grief: it had become natural to him to consider the visible and invisible world but as one, and to separate life and death only by his desire after the latter. For him existence assumed a glorified aspect, and his whole life flowed along as in a clear conscious dream of a higher state of being. The sanctity of grief, deep inward love, and pious aspirations after death, pervaded his whole being and all its creations: nay, it is very possible that it was this period of profound sorrow which sowed in his constitution the germs of death, were it not already his predestined fate so early to be snatched away from us."— Life, p. 14.

After having passed some weeks in Thuringia, he returned consoled to his occupations, which he prosecuted with more than ordinary zeal. At this time he composed many of those literary and philosophical fragments, of which we propose giving some interesting specimens, before we conclude this article. In the

year which followed, he formed the acquaintance of his biographer, Tieck-an acquaintance which soon ripened into the most lasting friendship. Tieck speaks of the many happy hours which he passed in his society, as well as in that of Schelling, Ritter, and the two Schlegels, who then formed a brilliant assemblage of talent at Jena.

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About this time he became acquainted with Julia von Chand his biographer makes a sort of apology, that he should have been affianced to her a year after the demise of Sophia.

"Sophia," says he, as we see from Novalis's works, "still remained the centre of his thoughts-in death she received from him a worship almost more devoted than when she was yet visible; but he thought beauty and amiability might in some degree compensate the severe loss he had sustained."-Life, p. 15.

This defence is not sophistical. These generous natures yearn for sympathy; and reciprocity of affection is, as it were, a necessity of their being. Hence, when death has deprived them of the objects of their first deep enthusiastic love, it is in new affections they seek the solace of a grief, otherwise too poignant for human endurance; and they search in other beings for a reflection, however faint, of the charms which first captivated their feelings. It is thus, when the glorious sun hath gone down, we love to watch the glowing clouds, that give back, however feebly, the varied splendour of his setting beams.

It was at this period, Novalis composed his beautiful romance of "Ofterdingen," wherein, as in a clear mirror, are reflected all the feelings, the aspirations, the projects, and the occupations of his own life. It was intended, as he himself says, to be "an apotheosis of poetry." On this romance, as well as on the poetry of Novalis, we regret that our limits will not permit us to enlarge at present; but perhaps we may find another occasion to bring his poetical productions before our readers. Our main business at present is with his historical and philosophical writings, or rather fragments, which the hand of death prevented him from finishing.

His religious poetry, especially his hymns to the Blessed Virgin, are full of grace, tenderness, and piety. There are also many beautiful poetical pieces scattered through the romance we have just spoken of. Among these, we may notice in particular the Song of the Miner, in celebration of the toils and pleasures of his craft.

On a visit which Tieck in the summer of 1800 paid to his friend, he found him observing a vegetable diet, in order to guard against the danger of decline. His spirits were good, but his increasing paleness and emaciation inspired his relatives with