Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad with Tales and Miscellanies Now First Collected Volume I Part 10

All, however, have not lovers to lose, or husbands to displease, or friends to affront; and if the women, in compliance with our self-revolving egotism, affect to prostrate themselves, and undervalue one another--do the men allow it to this extent? Do not the Germans most justly boast, that in their land arose the first feeling of veneration for women, the result of the Christian dispensation, grafted on the old German manners? Do they not point to their literature and their inst.i.tutions, as more favourable to your s.e.x than any other? Does not even Madame de Stael exalt the fine earnestness of the German feeling towards you, infinitely above the system of French gallantry?--that flimsy veil of conventional good-breeding, under which we seek to disguise the demoralization of one s.e.x, and the virtual slavery of the other? Have I not heard you say, that it is the present fas.h.i.+on among the poets, artists, and writers of Germany, to defer in all things to the middle ages? Are not the maxims and sentiments of chivalry ready on their lips, the forms and symbols of the old chivalrous times to be traced in every department of literature and art among them?

ALDA.

All this is true; and I will believe that all this is something more than mere theory, when I see the Germans less slovenly in their interior, and less egotistical in their domestic relations. The theme is unwelcome, unpleasant, ungraceful,--in fact, I can scarcely persuade myself to say one word against those high-minded, benevolent, admirable, and "most-thinking people;" so I will not dwell upon it: but I must confess that the personal negligence of the men, and the forbearance of the women on this point, astonished me. I longed to remind these wors.h.i.+ppers of the age of chivalry of that advice of St. Louis to his son--"Il faut etre toujours propre et bien proprement habille, afin d'etre _mieux aime de sa femme_;" the really good-natured and well-bred Germans will, I am sure, forgive this pa.s.sing remark, and allow its truth: they _did_ at once agree with me, that the tavern-life of the men, more particularly the clever professional men in the south of Germany, (another remnant, I presume, either of the age of chivalry, or the Burschen-sitten--I know not which,) was calculated to r.e.t.a.r.d the social improvement and refinement of both s.e.xes. And, apropos to chivalry, the fact is, that the inst.i.tutions of a generous but barbarous period, invented to s.h.i.+eld our helplessness, when women were exposed to every hards.h.i.+p, every outrage, have been much abused, and must be considerably modified to suit a very different state of society. That affectation of poetical homage, which your strength paid to our weakness, when the laws were not sufficient to defend us, we would now gladly exchange for more real honour, more real protection, more equal rights. I speak thus, knowing that, however open to perversion these expressions may be, _you_ will not misapprehend me; you know that I am no vulgar, vehement arguer about the "rights of women;" and, from my habitual tone of feeling and thought, the last to covet any of your masculine privileges.

MEDON.

I do perfectly understand you; but, pray what are our strictly masculine privileges, that you should covet them? Fighting! getting drunk! and keeping a mistress!--I beg your pardon if I shock your delicacy; but certainly, upon the score of masculine privileges, the less that is said the better: there are nations in which it is a masculine privilege to sit and smoke, while women draw the plough. It was some time ago,--and now, in some countries, it is still a masculine privilege to cultivate the mind at all; and in Germany, apparently, it is still a masculine privilege to publish a book without losing _caste_ in society; whereas here, in England, we have fallen into the opposite extreme; female authors.h.i.+p is in danger of becoming a fas.h.i.+on,--which Heaven avert! I should be sorry to see you women taking the pen you have hitherto so honoured, in the same spirit in which you used to make filigree, cobble shoes, and paint velvet.

ALDA.

It is too true that mere vanity and fas.h.i.+on have lately made some women auth.o.r.esses;--more write for money, and by this employment of their talents earn their own independence, add to the comforts of a parent, or supply the extravagance of a husband. Some, who are unhappy in their domestic relations, yet endowed with all that feminine craving after sympathy, which was intended to be the charm of our s.e.x, the blessing of yours, and somehow or other has been turned to the bane of both, look abroad for what they find not at home; fling into the wide world the irrepressible activity of an overflowing mind and heart, which can find no other unforbidden issue,--and to such "fame is love disguised."

Some write from the mere energy of intellect and will; some few from the pure wish to do good, and to add to the stock of happiness and the progress of thought; and many from all these motives combined in different degrees.

MEDON.

And have none of these motives produced auth.o.r.esses in Germany?

ALDA.

Yes; but fas.h.i.+on and vanity, and the love of excitement, have not as yet tempted the German women to print their effusions; their most distinguished auth.o.r.esses have become so, either from real enthusiasm or from necessity; and in the lighter departments of literature they boast at present some brilliant names. I will run over a few.

There is Helmina von Chezy--but before I speak of _her_, I should tell you of her famous grandmother, Anna Louisa Kars.h.i.+n, though _she_ belonged to the last century. The Kars.h.i.+n was the daughter of a poor innkeeper and brewer, in a little village of Silesia. She spent her early years in herding cows. She learned to read by stealth, by stealth she became a poetess; was first married to a boorish sulky weaver, secondly to a drunken tailor, and suffered for years every extremity of poverty and misery; at one time she travelled about the neighbouring country, the first example of an itinerant poetess, declaiming her own verses, and always ready with an ode or a sonnet to celebrate a wedding, or hail a birthday. In this strange profession she excited much astonishment--went through some singular, but not disreputable adventures--and earned considerable sums of money, which her husband spent in drink and profligacy. Gifted with as much energy as genius, she struggled through all, and gradually became known to several of the critics and poets of the last century, particularly Count s...o...b..rg and Gleim, and obtained the t.i.tle of the German Sappho. She found means to reach Berlin, where she worked her way up to distinction, and supported herself, two children, and an orphan brother, by her talents. She was recommended to Frederick the Great as worthy of a pension, and--would you believe it?--that _munificent_ patron of his country's genius, sent her a gratuity of two dollars, in a piece of paper. This extraordinary and spirited woman, who had probably subsisted for half her life on charity, instantly returned them to the n.i.g.g.ardly despot, after writing in the envelope four lines impromptu, which are yet repeated in Germany.

I am not quite sure that I remember them accurately, and it is no matter, for they have not much either of poetry or point.

"Zwey Thaler sind zu wenig; Zwey Thaler macht kein Gluck; Zwey Thaler gebt kein Konig; Fritz, hier send ich sie zuruck."

She died in 1791, and a selection of her poems was published in the following year.

The granddaughter of the Kars.h.i.+n, the more celebrated Helmina von Chezy, is likewise a poetess; her princ.i.p.al work is a tale of chivalry, in verse, _Die drei Weissen Rosen_, (The three White Roses) which was published in 18--, and she wrote the opera of Euryanthe, for Weber to set to music. Her songs and lighter poems are, I am told, exceedingly beautiful.

Caroline Pichler, of Vienna, I need only mention. I believe her historical romances have been translated into half-a-dozen languages.

The Siege of Vienna is reckoned her best.

Madame Schoppenhauer, the daughter of a senator of Dantzic, is celebrated for her novels, travels, and works on art. She resided for many years at Weimar, where she drew round her a brilliant literary circle, which the talents of her daughter farther adorned. Since Goethe's death she has fixed her residence at Bonn, where it is probable the remainder of her life will be spent. One of the best of her novels, "Die Tante," has been translated by Madame de Montolieu, under the t.i.tle of "La Tante et la Niece." Another very pretty little book of hers, "Ausflucht an dem Rhein," I should like to see translated. Beside being an excellent writer on art, Madame Schoppenhauer is herself no mean artist. Moreover, she is a kind-hearted, excellent old lady, with a few old lady-like prejudices about England and the English, which I forgave her,--the more easily as I had to thank her in my own person for many and kind attentions.

Madame von Helvig, of Weimar, (born Amalia von Imhoff,) was the friend of Schiller, under whose auspices her first poems were published. Her rare knowledge of languages, her learning and critical taste in works of arts, have distinguished her almost as much as her genius for poetry.

The second wife of the Baron de la Motte-Fouquet, was a very accomplished woman, and the author of several poems and romances.

Frederica Brun, (born Munter,) the daughter of a learned ecclesiastic of Gotha, is celebrated for her prose writings, and particularly her travels in Italy, where she resided at different periods. Madame Brun was a friend of Madame de Stael, who mentions her in her de l'Allemagne, and describes the extraordinary talents for cla.s.sical pantomime possessed by her daughter Ida Brun.

Louisa Brachmann is, I believe, more renowned for her melancholy death than her poetical talents; both together have procured her the name of the "German Sappho." The wretched woman threw herself into the river at Halle, and perished, as it was said, for the sake of some faithless Phaon. This was in 1822, when she must have been between forty and fifty; and pray observe, I do not notice this fact of her age in ridicule. A woman's heart may overflow _inwardly_ for long, long years, till at last the acc.u.mulated sorrow bursts the bounds of reason, and then all at once we see the result of causes to which none gave heed, and of secret agonies to which none gave comfort--in folly, madness, destruction. Whatever might have been the cause,--thus she died. Her works in prose and verse may be found in every bookseller's shop in Germany. There is also a life of this unhappy and gifted woman by professor Schutz.

f.a.n.n.y Tarnow is one of the most remarkable and most fertile of all the modern German auth.o.r.esses. Her genius was developed by misfortune and suffering: while yet an infant, she fell from a window two stories high, and was taken up, to the amazement of the a.s.sistants, without any apparent injury, except a few bruises; but all the vital functions suffered, and during ten or twelve years she was extended on a couch, neither joining in any of the amus.e.m.e.nts of childhood, nor subjected to the usual routine of female education. She educated herself. She read incessantly, and, as it was her only pleasure, books of every description, good and bad, were furnished her without restraint. She was about eleven years old when she made her first _known_ poetical attempt, inspired by her own feelings and situation. It was a dialogue between herself and the angel of death. In her seventeenth year she was sufficiently recovered to take charge of her father's family, after he had lost, by some sudden misfortune, his whole property. He held subsequently, a small office under government, the duties of which were princ.i.p.ally performed by his admirable daughter. Her first writings were anonymous, and for a long time her name was unknown. Her most celebrated novel, the "Thekla," was published in 1815; and from this time she has enjoyed a high and public reputation. f.a.n.n.y Tarnow resides, or did reside, in Dresden.

I have yet another name here, and not the least interesting, that of Johanna von Weissenthurn, one of the most popular dramatic writers in Germany. She was educated for the stage, even from infancy, her parents and relations being, I believe, strolling players. She lived, for many years, a various life of toil, and adventure, and excitement; such, perhaps, as Goethe describes in the Wilhelm Meister; a life which does sometimes blunt the nicer feelings, but is sure to develop talent where it exists. Johanna at length rose through all the grades of her profession, and became the first actress at the princ.i.p.al theatre at Vienna. She played in the "Phoedra," before Napoleon, when he occupied the Austrian capital in 1806, and the conqueror sent to her, after the performance, a complimentary message, and a gratuity of three thousand francs; but her lasting reputation is founded on her dramatic works, which are played in every theatre in Germany. The plots, which, I am told, are remarkable for fancy and invention, have been borrowed, without acknowledgment, both by French and English playwrights. I was quite charmed with one of her pieces which I saw at Munich, (Die Erben--the Heirs,) and with another which was represented at Frankfort.

Johanna von Weissenthurn has also written poems and tales.

I have come to the end of my memoranda on this subject, and regret it much. I might easily give you more names, and quote second-hand the opinions I heard of the merits and characteristics of these auth.o.r.esses; but I speak of nothing but what I _know_, and not being able to form any judgment myself, I will give none. Only it appears to me that the Germans themselves a.s.sign to no female writer the same rank which here we proudly give to Joanna Baillie and Mrs. Hemans. I could hear of none who had ever exercised any thing like the moral influence possessed by Maria Edgeworth and Harriet Martineau, in their respective departments; nor could learn that any German woman had yet given _public_ proof that the most feminine qualities were reconcilable with the highest scientific attainments--like Mrs. Marcet and Mrs. Somerville.

MEDON.

You said the other night, that you had not formed any opinion as to the moral and social position of the women in Germany; but you must have brought away some general impressions of manner and character;--frankly, were they favourable or unfavourable?

ALDA.

Frankly, they were most favourable. Remember that I am not prepared with any general sweeping conclusions: I cannot a.s.sure you from my own knowledge, that among my own s.e.x the proportion of virtue and happiness is greater in Germany than in England. On the contrary--

----In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth, Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand, The downward slope to death.

In every land I thought that, more or less, The stronger, sterner nature overbore The softer, uncontroll'd by gentleness, And selfish evermore![27]

--Why do you smile?

MEDON.

You amuse me with the perseverance with which you ring the changes on your favourite text, in prose and in verse; and yet, to adopt Voltaire's witty metaphor, _we_ are the hammers and _you_ the anvils all the world over. But is that all? You need not have gone to Germany to verify that!

ALDA.

No, sir; it is not _all_. In the first place, you know I have a sufficient contempt for our English intolerance, with regard to manners--

MEDON.

Why, yes; with reason. The influence of mere _manner_ among our fas.h.i.+onable people, and the stress laid upon it as a distinction, have become so vulgarized and abused, that I should be relieved even by a reaction which should throw us out of the insipidity of conventional manner into primeval rudeness.

ALDA.

No, no, no!--no extremes: but though so sensible to the ridicule of referring the social habits, opinions, customs, of other nations, to the arbitrary standard of our own, still I could not help falling into comparisons; certain distinctions between the German and the English women struck me involuntarily. In the highest circles a stranger finds society much alike every where. A court-ball--the _soiree_ of an amba.s.sadress--a minister's dinner--present nearly the same physiognomy.

It is in the second cla.s.s of society, which is also every where, and in every sense, the best, that we behold the stamp of national character.

I was not condemned to see my German friends always _en grande toilette_; I had better opportunities of judging and appreciating their domestic habits and manners, than most travellers enjoy.

I thought the German women, of a certain rank, more _natural_ than we are. The moral education of an English girl is, for the most part, _negative_; the whole system of duty is thus presented to the mind.

It is not "this you must do;" but always "you must not do this--you must not say that--you must not think so;" and if by some hardy, expanding nature, the question be ventured, "Why?"--the mamma or the governess are ready with the answer--"It is not the custom--it is not lady-like--it is ridiculous!" But is it wrong?--why is it wrong?--and then comes answer, pat--"My dear, you must not argue--young ladies never argue." "But, mamma, I was thinking----" "My dear, you must not think--go write your Italian exercise," and so on! The idea that certain pa.s.sions, powers, tempers, feelings, interwoven with our being by our almighty and all-wise Creator, are to be put down by the fiat of a governess, or the edict of fas.h.i.+on, is monstrous. Those who educate us imagine that they have done every thing, if they have silenced controversy, if they have suppressed all external demonstration of an excess of temper or feeling; not knowing, or not reflecting, that unless our nature be self-governed and self-directed by an appeal to those higher faculties, which link us immediately with what is divine, their labour is lost.

Now, in Germany the women are less educated to suit some particular fas.h.i.+on; the cultivation of the intellect, and the forming of the manners, do not so generally supersede the training of the moral sentiments--the affections--the impulses; the latter are not so habitually crushed or disguised; consequently the women appeared to me more natural, and to have more individual character.

MEDON.

But the English women pique themselves on being natural, at least they have the word continually in their mouths. Do you know that I once overheard a well-meaning mother instructing her daughter how to be natural? You laugh, but I a.s.sure you it is a simple fact. Now, I really do not object to natural insipidity, but I do object to conventional insipidity: I object to a rule of elegance which makes the negative the test of the natural. It seems hard that those who have hearts and souls must needs put them into a strait-waistcoat, in order to oblige those who choose to have none; and be guilty of the grossest affectation, to escape the imputation of being affected!

ALDA.

I think there is less of this among the Germans; more of the individual character is brought into the daily intercourse of society--more of the poetry of existence is brought to bear on the common realities of life.

I saw a freshness of feeling--a genuine (not a taught) simplicity, which charmed me. Sometimes I have seen affectation, but it amused me; it consisted in the exaggeration of what is in itself good, not in the mean renunciation of our individuality--the immolation of our soul's truth to a mere fas.h.i.+on of behaviour. As Rochefoucauld called hypocrisy, (that last extreme of wickedness,) "_the homage which vice pays to virtue_;" so the _nature de convention_, that last and worst excess of affectation, is the homage which the artificial pays to the natural.