Lay of love for lady bright,
Faery tale to lull the heir,
Goblin grim the maids to scare!
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Germany! land of mystery and of mind! birth-place of Schiller and Goëthe, with what emotions does not every lover of romance sit down to peruse thy own peculiar, dreamy traditions! Thy very name conjures up visions of demons, and imps, and elfs, and all the creations of faery land, with their varied legends of diablerie, almost incredible in number and singular in detail—and romance, in his gloomy mood, seems here to have reared his strong hold.
At a time when a taste for the beauties of German literature is becoming general throughout this country, we conceive that a few specimens of her traditions may not be unacceptable to the reader. Few subjects are more interesting than the popular legends of a country, which are the source from whence many of our later novelists draw several of their writings: they offer a field for reflection to the contemplative observer of man; and those of Germany, although some are disfigured with a little too much absurdity in their details, are confessedly a mine of wealth to the lover of research in such matters. Here Schiller first drew the sources of his inspiration; here Goëthe first electrified mankind with his writings—works which will render both immortal; it is, indeed, a mine which has been and will bear much working.
We have chosen the following tradition, both on account of the merit it possesses, and its being the unquestionable origin of Washington Irving's inimitable Rip Von Winkle. Indeed, the similarity of the story is strikingly obvious. We believe there are several legends on this subject, which, with the present, probably all refer to the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, whose adventures form the source of many a story among the Germans. The original tale is nearly as follows:—It seems the emperor was once compelled to conceal himself, with a party of his followers, amongst the Kyffhaüsen mountains; there he still lives, but is under the influence of magic. He sits with his adherents on a seat before a stone table, leaning his head upon his hands, seeming to slumber; but apparently his sleep is very restless, and his head nods, and seems as if he were going to awake, and his red beard has grown through the table down to his feet. He takes pretty long naps, not more than a hundred years in length at a stretch: when his slumber is interrupted, he is fabled to be very fond of music; and it is said that there was a party of musicians, who once gave him a regular serenade in his subterranean retreat, doubtless expecting some wonderful token of his generosity in return; but they received nothing for their pains but a number of green boughs, which so disgusted them, that they all threw them away on their return to earth, save one, who, however, had no suspicion of its worth, for on showing it to his wife, to his great astonishment, each leaf became a golden coin.
An author before us observes, that this tale of the emperor's slumbers cannot, perhaps, be deemed original, and is probably a popular version of the Seven Sleepers, "not a little disfigured by the peculiar superstition of the country." The same writer remarks, with justice, that it is surprising how few are the sources, and how scanty the parent stock, from whence all the varieties of European legend are derived. Indeed, the foundation of a great part of these legendary stories seems to have been the heathen mythology of the different countries, and the various tales of superstition being handed down from one generation to another, have gradually assumed the shape they now bear; from whence may be traced most of our popular superstitions.
THE LEGEND OF THE GOATHERD.
When I behold a football to and fro,