In English:
Behold me landed now on Saxon ground,
Where lovely damsels on the trees are found.
A taste for litterature is indeed general throughout the whole nation; and this city is considered as the Athens of Germany.
DRESDEN, Nov. 8th.
I have been at the theatre and witnessed the representation of a tragedy called Die Schuld, written by Adolphus Müllner. It is a most interesting piece, and the novelty of it has made a striking impression on me. It is written in the eight-footed trochaic metre, similar to that in which the Spanish tragedies are written. It hinges on a prophecy made by a Gipsey, in which the person to whom the prophecy is made, in endeavoring to avert it, hastens its accomplishment. The piece is full of interest and the versification harmonious. I have been twice at the Italian opera, where I saw the Gazza Ladra and Il Matrimonio secreto. I came here with the idea of giving myself up entirely to the study of the German language; but such is the beauty of the country environing Dresden that, though winter has commenced I employ the greatest part of the day in long walks. For instance I have been to Pillnitz, which is on the right bank of the Elbe about seven miles from Dresden, ascending the river. The road is on the bank of the river the whole way. The Palace at Pillnitz is vast and well built. During a part of the year the Royal family reside there. Pillnitz will remain "damn'd to everlasting fame" as the place where the famous treaty was signed, the object of which was to put down the French Revolution, which Mr Pitt and the British ministry knew of and sanctioned, tho' they pretended ignorance of it and professed to have no desire to interfere with the affairs of France.
Every thing pleases me at Dresden except the beds. I wish it were the fashion to use blankets and édredons for the upper covering instead of the lits de plumes; for they are too heavy and promote rather too intense a perspiration, and if you become impatient of the heat, and throw them off you catch an intense cold. You know how partial I am to the Germans, and can even put up with their eternal smoking, tho' no smoker myself, but to their beds I shall never be reconciled. A German bed is as follows: a paillasse, over that a mattress, then a featherbed with a sheet fastened to it, and over that again another featherbed with a sheet fastened to it; and thus you lie between two featherbeds; but these are not always of sufficient length, and you are often obliged to coil up your legs or be exposed to have them frozen by their extending beyond the featherbeds; for the cold is very great during the winter.
The more I see of the people here, the more I like them. The national character of the Germans is integrity, tho' sometimes cloaked under a rough exterior as in Bavaria and Austria; but here in Saxony it is combined with a suavity of manners that is very striking, for the Saxons are the Tuscans of Germany in point of politeness, and they are far more accomplished because they take more pains in cultivating their minds.
A savant in Italy is a man who writes a volume about a coin, filled with hypotheses, when, with all his learning forced into the service, he proves nothing; and this very man is probably ignorant in the extreme of modern political history, and that of his own times, and has more pedantry than taste. Such a man is often however in Italy termed a Portento, but in Dresden and in most of the capitals of Germany where there are so many of science and deep research, a man must not only be well read in antiquities, but also well versed in political economy and in analysis before he can venture to give a work to the public. Latin quotations, unsupported by reason and philosophical argument will avail him nothing, for the German is a terrible Erforscher and wishes to know the what, the how and the when of every thing; besides an Italian savant is seldom versed in any other tongue than his own and the Latin, with perhaps a slight knowledge of French; whereas in Germany it is not only very common to find a knowledge of French, English, Italian, Latin and Greek united in the same person, but very many add Hebrew, Arabic and even Sanscrit to their stock of Philology. As a specimen for instance of German industry, I have seen, at the club of the Ressource, odes on the Peace in thirty-six different languages, and all of them written by native Saxons. This shows to what an extent philology is cultivated in Germany; indeed, it is quite a passion and a very useful one it is. I know that many people regard it as a loss of time, and say that you acquire only new words, and no new ideas; but I deny this. I maintain that every new language learned gives you new ideas, as it puts you at once more au fait of the manners and customs of the people, which can only be thoroughly learned by reading popular authors in their original language: for there are several authors of the merit of whose style it is impossible to form an adequate idea in a translation, however correct and excellent it be. Indeed I wonder that the study of the German language is not more attended to in England, France, and Italy; but to the English, methinks, it is indispensable. All the customs and manners of Europe are taken from the German; all modern Europe bears the Teutonic stamp. We are all the descendants of the Teutonic hordes who subjugated the Roman Empire and changed the face of Europe; 'tis they who have given and laid down the grand and distinguishing feature between modern Europe and ancient Europe and Asia: I mean the respect paid to women. To what nation, I say, is due the chivalrous respect to women which is the surest sign of civilization, and which was unknown to the ancient Greeks and Romans, except to the Germans, who even in their most uncivilized state paid such veneration to their women as to consult them as oracles on all occasions and to admit them to their councils? Tacitus particularly mentions this; and speaking of the Germans of his time, he says, "They have an idea that there is something divine about a woman."[126] It is this feeling, handed down to us from our Teutonic ancestors, that contributes mainly to make the European so superior to all the Asiatic nations, where woman still remains a degraded being, and 'tis this feeling that gives to us the palm above all Greek and Roman glory. What are the modern European nations, the English, French, Italians, Switzers, even Spanish and Portuguese, but the descendants of these warlike Teutonic tribes who swept away the effeminate Romans from the face of the earth? and do we not see the Teutonic policy and usages, defective and degenerated as they sometimes are, the best safeguard of liberty against the insidious interpretation of the Roman law, which is founded on the pretended superiority of one nation, the inferred inferiority of all the rest?
With regard to theatricals, I have witnessed the representation of a tragedy, lately published, called Sappho, by a young poet of the name of Grillparzer. This tragedy is strictly on the Greek model. Its versification in iambics is so beautiful that it is regarded as the triumph of the Classics over the Romantics; and by this piece Grillparzer has proved the universality of his genius; for he wrote a short time ago a dramatic piece in the romantic style and in the eight rhymed trochaic metre called die Anhfrau (the ancestress) where supernatural agency is introduced. This I have read; it is a piece full of interest; still it was thought too outré by the Classiker. It was supposed that this was the peculiar style of the author, and that he adopted it from inability to compose in the classic taste, when behold! by way of proving the contrary, he has given us a drama simple in its plot, where all the unities are preserved, and where the subject one would think was too well known to produce much interest; he has given, I say, to this piece (Sappho), from the extreme harmony of its versification and the pathos of the sentiments expressed therein, an effect which I doubt any tragedy of Euripides or Sophocles surpasses. The character of Sappho and her passion for Phaon; his indifference to her and attachment to the young Melitta, an attendant and slave of Sappho's, and Sappho throwing herself into the sea after uniting Phaon and Melitta, constitute the plot of the drama. But simple as the plot, and old as the story is, it excites the greatest interest, and never fails to draw tears from the audience. What can be more artless and pathetic, for instance, than these lines of the young Melitta when she regrets her expatriatioa:
Kein Busen schlägt mlr bier in diesem Lande,
Und meine Freunden wohnen weit von hier.