Authors and Books.
Henry Heine's long-promised Romanzero has at last appeared in Germany, where the first edition has been greedily snapped up. It is a collection of poems of various name and nature, all after the true Heinian vein. The great curiosity of the book is the preface in which the "dying Aristophanes" discourses on his alleged conversion to religion, in a strain which settles the question, so much discussed for the past two or three years, whether such a conversion has actually taken place or not. He declares that he has "returned to God, like the profligate son, after having long kept swine among the Hegelians. Was it suffering that drove me back? Perhaps a less miserable reason. The celestial home-sickness came over me, and urged me forth through woods and ravines, over the dizziest mountain paths of dialectics. On my way I found the God of the Pantheists, but could not use him." Afterwards he says, that while in politics his views have not changed, in theology he has gone back to belief in a personal divinity. But he denies the report that he has joined any church. "No," he says, "my religions convictions and views remain free from all ecclesiasticism; no bell-ring has seduced me, no altar-candle blinded me. I have played with no symbols, nor altogether renounced my reason. I have sworn off from nothing, not even my old heathen gods, from whom I have indeed parted, but in all love and friendship. It was in May, 1848, the day when I last went out, that I took leave of the gracious idols I had worshipped in the days of my happiness. It was with difficulty that I dragged myself to the Louvre, and I almost fainted as I entered the lofty hall where the blessed goddess of beauty, our dear Lady of Milo, stands on her pedestal. I lay long at her feet, and wept so vehemently that a stone must have been filled with pity. The goddess, too, looked down piteously, as if to say, 'Seest thou not that I have no arms, and cannot help thee?'" It seems evident from this, that whatever change has happened in Heine's notions, there is no vital piety in his heart, but he is the same heathen as ever. The Romanzero is divided into three parts—Histories, Lamentations, and Hebrew Melodies. The former are like the ballads he has before published, except that many of them go farther in the way of indecency, while many others are charming conceits, which are sure of long popularity. The Lamentations are more expressive of the personal state of mind and experience of the author. The Hebrew Melodies are the best of all, and betray a profound affection for the Jewish race and history, which he vainly seeks to hide with sneering and scoffs, and which proclaims him a genuine son of Abraham as well as of the nineteenth century. For the rest, the reader of this book will be reminded of the sharp saying of Gutzkow about Heine: "He is a writer who tries to disguise spoiled meat with a sauce piquante." Heine has also published "Doctor Faust, a Dance Poem, with curious information about the Devil, Witches and Poetic Art." This is intended to serve as the ground-work of a ballet and presents the great problems of existence in the form of a jest and a paradox. It was written for Lumley, the London manager, but his ballet-master declared the performance of it impossible.
The Grenzboten contains a paper on German Romanticism, by Dr. Julian Schmidt, written for the purpose of defeating the last attempts which the romantic school of German writers is making to regain its former ascendency. Baron Eichendorff, almost the last of the old school, has lately brought out a pamphlet for that purpose. It has found a full contradiction in Dr. Schmidt's essay, one which will doubtless be satisfactory to all but the Baron himself.
We cannot too much commend a metrical German translation of the heroic Sagas (Heldensagen) of Firdusi, the chief of Persian poets. It is due to the learning and taste, we might even say the genius, of Herr von Schock, and has lately been published at Berlin. Those who recollect the delicious illustrations which our Emerson has dug out of this old mine of Persian poetry, to adorn some of his more recent lectures with, can need no additional inducement to seek the acquaintance of this book. It contains ten distinct sagas, with an introduction by the translator.
A work bearing a somewhat attractive title has recently been published for Fred Burau, by Brockhaus, of Leipzig, entitled The Secret History of Enigmatic Men, a Collection of Forgotten Notabilities. Among the "odd ones" cited, are the Countess of Rochlitz, Dankelmann and Wartenberg, natural children of the last Stuarts, and of Danish Kings, Count Lewenhaupt, Lord Peterborough, the Duke of Ormond, Frederic Augustus the First, John Lilburne, W. Ludwig Weckerlin, and various other characters, too numerous to mention. We noticed this work while it was in course of preparation last year.
A singular historical concert was given at Dresden, in November. It was made up of works of distinguished Electoral and Royal Saxon Capellmeisters, in chronological order. First appeared John Walther, the friend of Luther, and the original master of Protestant Church music. Next, Heinrich Schutz, the author of the first German opera. The Italians, Lotti and Porpora, and Hasse (who composed in Italian style), represented the golden period of the Electoral Court in the past half of the eighteenth century. Naumann marked the transition to modern German music, while the most recent schools were represented by Morlacchi, Reissiger, Weber, and Richard Wagner.