PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION.
More than twenty years ago I translated “Peter Schlemihl.” I had the advantage of the pen and genius of George Cruikshank, to make the work popular, and two editions were rapidly sold.
At that time the real author was unknown. Everybody attributed it to Lamotte Fouqué, on whose literary shoulders, indeed, Adelbert von Chamisso placed the burden of its responsibilities.
The appearance of the English edition, I have reason to know—thanks to the merit of Cruikshank’s original and felicitous sketches—excited the greatest delight in the mind of Chamisso. In his autobiography he says that “Peter” had been kindly received in Germany, but in England had been renowned (volksthumlich).
Several English translations have since occupied the field. Mine, as the first-born, naturally claims its own heritage, though it has been long out of print, and in the shape of a third edition, commends itself anew to public patronage.
John Bowring.
January, 1861.
To my old Friend, Peter Schlemihl.
Well! years and years have pass’d,—and lo! thy writing
Comes to my hands again,—and, strange to say,
I think of times when the world’s school, inviting
Our early friendship, new before us lay;—
Now I can laugh at foolish shame—delighting
In thee, for I am old—my hair is grey,—
And I will call thee friend, as then—not coldly,
But proudly to the world—and claim thee boldly.
My dear, dear Friend! the cunning air hath led me
Through paths less dark and less perplexed than thine,
Struggling for blue, bright dawnings, have I sped me,
But little, little glory has been mine.
Yet can the Grey Man boast not that he had me
Fast by my shadow! Nay! he must resign
His claims on me,—my shadow’s mine. I boast it,—
I had it from the first, and never lost it.