__________________________________________________________________ Title: Christian Singers of Germany Creator(s): Winkworth, Catherine Print Basis: London: R. Clay, sons, and Taylor, n.d. (handwritten gift dedication, 1884) Rights: Public Domain LC Call no: BV480.W5 LC Subjects: Practical theology Worship (Public and Private) Including the church year, Christian symbols, liturgy, prayer, hymnology Hymnology Hymns in languages other than English __________________________________________________________________ Portrait of Paul Gerhardt Paul Gerhardt -- P. 202 CHRISTIAN SINGERS OF GERMANY BY CATHERINE WINKWORTH Portrait of Hans Sachs MACMILLAN & CO PUBLISHERS Electronic Edition featuring [1]Comprehensive Indexes __________________________________________________________________ PREFACE. The hymns of Germany are so steadily becoming naturalized in England that English readers may be glad to know something of the men who wrote them, and the times in which they had their origin. Scarcely one of the numerous hymn-books which have been compiled here within the last fifteen years is without its proportion--sometimes a considerable proportion--of German hymns. This is, in fact, one of the many ways in which the literature of each nation now tends to become, through the medium of translations, the common property of both. But hymns form only a part, though an important part, of the religious poetry of Germany, which itself constitutes but one sharply defined branch of the general literature of the country. Yet it is impossible to trace the course historically of even this one channel of national expression, without being brought into contact with those great movements which have stirred the life of the people, and finding the passing fashions of each successive age, in thought or phraseology, reflected from its surface. Such a work as the present cannot attempt more than an outline of a subject which is thus linked on the one side to the general history and literature of Germany, while on the other it has a separate history of its own, full of minute and almost technical details. Only the principal schools and authors are described, and specimens are selected from their works; but other writers of secondary rank are mentioned, to enable readers who may be inclined to do so, to fill up the picture of any particular school or period more completely for themselves. The choice of the specimens has been determined partly by their intrinsic merits, partly by their novelty to the English public; hence nearly all the great classical hymns are named as illustrating the spirit of certain times, but they are not given in full, because they have been previously translated, and are in many instances familiar to us already. A very few, which it was impossible to pass over, form the only exceptions to this rule. In reading the poems scattered through the following pages, it must be remembered that they suffer under the disadvantage of being all translations and from one hand, which inevitably robs them of somewhat of that variety of diction which marks, in the original, the date of the composition or the individuality of the author. Still, as far as possible, their characteristic differences have been carefully imitated, and the general style and metre of the poem retained. Verses have been occasionally omitted for the sake of brevity, and once or twice a Trochaic metre has been altered into an Iambic, where the change did not seriously affect the shape of the poem, whilst it enabled the English version to reproduce certain striking expressions in the German. Single rhymes have been throughout substituted for double ones, cxcept where the latter constitute an essential element of the metre; this modification necessitates the addition or the omission of a syllable in the line, but makes it possible to give a more faithful and spirited rendering than can be managed within the very limited range of English dissyllabic rhymes. The frequent recurrence of particular phrases and rhymes is not accidental, but is a peculiarity of all German popular poetry from the Niebelungen Lied downwards. Besides the specimens given in this volume, many of which are rather poems than hymns, between three and four hundred German hymns in English dress may now be found in various collections of translations. Of these the chief are "Hymns from the Land of Luther;" "Sacred Hymns from the German" by Miss Cox; the "Spiritual Songs of Luther" and "Lyra Domestica" of Mr. Massie; "Hymns for the Church of England" by Arthur Tozer Russell; the "[2]Lyra Germanica" [and the "[3]Second Series"] and the "[4]Chorale Book for England." Nearly all the German hymns in our ordinary hymnbooks are drawn from some one of these sources or from John Wesley. Where only the first English line is mentioned in this work, the complete hymn may generally be met with in the "[5]Lyra Germanica," or is one of [6]Wesley's well-known versions. [1] It seems out of place in a work like this to give a list of authorities, which would necessarily be long. German hymns, like our own, have undergone many revisions, and are to be met with in very varying forms; of course these specimens have been taken from what appeared to me the most trustworthy sources at my command. But I may be allowed to express my obligations to the following important works:--Wackernagel's great work, "das Deutsche Kirchenlied," both in the edition of 1842 and the one now in progress; his lives and editions of Heermann and Gerhardt, and his brother's "Altdeutsches Lesebuch;" the "Geschichte des Kirchenliedes und Kirchengesanges," by Dean Koch of Wurtemberg, to which I owe many details of the biographies of the chief hymn writers; the "Geistliche Volkslieder" of Hommel; Von Hagenbach's "Kirchengeschichte," Gervinus' "Geschichte der deutschen Dichtung;" and Gustav Freitag's charming series of sketches of German life, "Bilder aus der deutschen Vergangenheit." CLIFTON, April 1869. __________________________________________________________________ [1] [The electronic edition includes hyperlinks in such cases.] __________________________________________________________________ CONTENTS. PAGE Of all the joys that are on earth Vor allen Freuden auf Erden--LUTHER. 1 CHAPTER I. THE EARLY DAWN OF GERMAN SACRED POETRY AND SONG. A.D. 800-900 3 Now warneth us the Wise Men's fare Manot unsih thisu fart--OTFRIED. 17 CHAPTER II. A LONG TWILIGHT. A.D. 900-1100 21 Our dear Lord of grace hath given Unsar trohtin hat farsalt--IX. Century. 28 Thou heavenly Lord of Light Du Himilisco trohtin--X. Century. 29 God, it is Thy property Got thir eigenhaf ist--IX. Century. 29 CHAPTER III. THE MORNING. A.D. 1100-1250 30 Christ the Lord is risen Christus ist erstanden--ANON. 37 Now let us pray the Holy Ghost Nu biten wir den heiligen geist--ANON. 38 All growth of the forest Wurze des waldes--SPERVOGEL. 38 He is full of power and might Er ist gewaltic unde Starc--SPERVOGEL. 39 O Rose, of the flowers I ween thou art fairest Diu rose ist die schoeneste under alle--DER MEISSENAERE. 41 My joy was ne'er unmixed with care Min froeede wart nie sorgelos--HARTMANN VON DER AUE. 42 Now in the name of God we go In Gotes namen faren wir--ANON. 43 E'er since this day the cross was mine Des tages do ich daz kriuze nam--REINMAR VON HAGENAU. 44 Alas! for my sorrow O we des smerzen--ANON. 45 When the flowers out of the grass are springing So die bluomen uz dem grase dringent--WALTER VON DER VOGELWEIDE. 46 Would ye see the lovely wonder Muget in schowen waz dem meien--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 47 Ye should raise the cry of welcome Ir sult sprechen willekomen--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 48 In safety may I rise to-day Mit saelden mueeze ich hiute uf steh--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 50 Lord God, if one without due fear Swer ane vorhte, herre Got--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 50 How seldom praise I Thee, to whom all lauds belong Vil wol gelobter Got wie selten ich dich prise--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 51 Now at last is life worth living Nu alrest leb ich mir werde.--W. V. D. VOGELWEIDE. 51 Sir Percival. Eight extracts Parzival, WOLFRAM VON ESCHENBACH--(uebersetzt von San Marte.) 60 CHAPTER IV. DARK TIMES AND BRIGHT TIMES. A.D. 1253-1500 69 From outward creatures I must flee Ich muez die creaturen fliehen--TAULER. 74 O Jesu Christ, most good, most fair O Jesu Christ, ein lieblichz gut--TAULER. 75 My joy is wholly banished Min vreude ist gar zergangen--FRAUENLOB. 78 Now will I nevermore despair of heaven Nu wil ich nimmer mer verzwifeln--FRAUENLOB. 80 A ship comes sailing onwards Es komt ein schif geladen--TAULER. 84 A spotless Rose is blowing Es ist ein Ros entsprungen--ANON. 85 There went three damsels ere break of day Es giengen dri frewlin also frue--ANON. 85 Rejoice, dear Christendom, to-day Nu frew dich liebe Christenheit--ANON. 87 So holy is this day of days Also heilig ist der Tag--ANON. 89 Fair Spring, thou dearest season of the year Du lenze gut, des jares teureste quarte--CONRAD VON QUEINFURT. 88 O world, I must forsake thee O Welt, ich muz dich lassen--ANON. 91 I would I were at last at home Ich wolt daz ich daheime wer--LOUFENBURG. 92 Ah! Jesu Christ, my Lord most dear Ach, lieber herre Jesu Christ--LOUFENBURG. 93 In dulci Jubilo, sing and shout, all below In dulci Jubilo, singet und seid froh--ANON. 94 CHAPTER V. LUTHER AND HIS FRIENDS. A.D. 1500-1580 98 I've ventured it of purpose free Ich hab's gewagt mit Sinnen--ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 99 A sure stronghold our God is He Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott--LUTHER. 110 Dear Christian people, now rejoice Nun freut euch liebes Christen gemein--LUTHER. 112 In peace and joy I now depart Mit Fried und Freud ich fahr dahin--LUTHER. 114 If God were not upon our side Wo Gott der Herr nicht zu uns haelt--JUSTUS JONAS. 117 I fall asleep in Jesu's arms In Jesu Wunden schlaf ich ein--PAUL EBER. 121 CHAPTER VI. HYMNS OF THE REFORMATION. A.D. 1520-1600 122 Salvation hath come down to us Es ist das Heil uns kommen her--SPERATUS. 123 What pleaseth God, that pleaseth me Wie's Gott gefaellt, gefaellt's mir auch--BLAURER. 124 Grant me, Eternal God, such grace Genad' mir Herr, Ewiger Gott--MARGRAVE OF BRANDENBURG. 125 Awake, my heart's delight, awake Wach' auf meines Herzens Schoene--HANS SACHS. 131 O Christ, true Son of God Most High Christe, wahrer Sohn Gottes frohn--HANS SACHS. 134 Praise, glory, thanks be ever paid Lob und Ehr mit stettem Danckopfer--BOHEMIAN BRETHREN. 137 Lord, to Thy chosen ones appear Erscheine allen auserwaehlten--BOHEMIAN BRETHREN. 139 Now God be with us, for the night is closing Die Nacht ist kommen drinn wir ruhen sollen--BOHEMIAN BRETHREN. 139 When my last hour is close at hand Wenn mein Stuendlein vorhanden ist--NICOLAS HERMANN. 143 O Father, Son, and Holy Ghost O Vater, Sohn, und Heil'ger Geist--MATTHESIUS. 144 CHAPTER VII. AN INTERVAL. A.D. 1560-1616 146 Lord Jesu Christ, my Highest Good Herr Jesu Christ, mein hoechstes Gut--RINGWALDT. 149 Lord Jesu Christ, with us abide Ach bleib bei uns, Herr Jesu Christ--SELNECKER. 152 Make me Thine own and keep me Thine Lass mich dein sein und bleiben--SELNECKER. 152 From God shall nought divide me Von Gott will ich nicht lassen--HELMBOLDT. 154 In God, my faithful God Auf meinen treuen Gott--WEINGARTNER. 156 Thou burning Love, Thou holy Flame Brennende Liebe, du heilige Flamme--ANON. 157 O Morning Star, how fair and bright! Wie schoen leuecht't uns der Morgenstern--NICOLAI. 160 CHAPTER VIII. THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. A.D. 1618-1650 165 O Light, who out of Light wast born O Licht geboren aus dem Lichte--OPITZ. 173 Let nothing make thee sad or fretful Lass dich nur nichts nicht dauern--FLEMMING. 175 Can it then be that hate should e'er be loved Ist's moeglich, dass der Hass auch kann geliebet sein?--FLEMMING. 175 All glories of this earth decay Die Herrlichkeit der Erden--GRYPHIUS. 177 In life's fair spring In meiner ersten Bluet'--GRYPHIUS. 179 Now thank we all our God Nun danket alle Gott--RINKART. 181 O ye halls of heaven Schoener Himmelssaal--S. DACH. 185 Worthy of praise the Master-hand Der Meister ist ja lobenswerth--ROBERTHIN. 187 O darkest woe! ye tears forth flow O Traurigkeit, O Herzeleid--JOHANN VON RIST. 191 Now God be praised, and God alone Gott sei gelobet der allein--J. VON RIST. 192 Ah, Lord our God, let them not be confounded Herr unser Gott, lass nicht zu Schanden werden--J. HEERMANN. 197 Zion mourns in fear and anguish Zion klagt mit Angst und Schmerzen--J. HEERMANN. 198 Jesu, Saviour, since that Thou Jesu, der du bist, mein Heil--J. HEERMANN. 200 Thou loving Jesu Christ Du suesser Jesu Christ--J. HEERMANN. 200 Jesu, who didst stoop to prove Jesu der du tausend Schmerzen--J. HEERMANN. 200 Jesu, Victor over sin Jesu, Tilger meiner Sueden.--J. HEERMANN. 201 That Death knocks at my door, too well Der Tod klopft an bei mir, dass--J. HEERMANN. 201 CHAPTER IX. PAUL GERHARDT AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. A.D. 1620-1680. 202 Hence, my heart, with such a thought Weg mein Herz mit dem Gedanken--PAUL GERHARDT. 210 To God's all-gracious heart and mind Ich hab' ergeben Herz und Sinn--P. GERHARDT. 213 Full of wonder, full of art Voller Wunder, voller kunst--P. GERHARDT. 215 I will return unto the Lord Ich will von meiner Missethat--ELECTRESS LOUISA. 221 Patience and humility Wer Geduld und Demuth liebet--ANTON ULRICH. 225 Jesu, priceless treasure Jesu meine Freude--JOHANN FRANK. 228 CHAPTER X. THE NEW SCHOOL. A.D. 1635-1700 230 Aphorisms by FRIEDRICH VON LOGAU Sinn sprueche von SALOMON VON GOLAW. 232 Reader, dost thou seek to know Leser, moechtest du erkennen--LOGAU. 233 Generous Love, why art thou hidden so on earth Edele Lieb, wie bist du hier so gar verborgen--ANDREA. 235 The gloomy winter now is o'er Der truebe Winter ist vorbei--SPEE. 242 Thou Good beyond compare Du unvergleichlich Gut--ANGELUS. 249 Morning-star in darksome night Morgenstern in finst'rer Nacht--ANGELUS. 251 Aphorisms by ANGELUS Sinnsprueche von ANGELUS SILESIUS. 252 Jesu, be ne'er forgot Jesu, gieb uns dein' Gnad--ANON. 255 Why is it that life is no longer sad Woher denn kommt' es zu dieser Zeit--ANON. 255 CHAPTER XI. THE PIETISTS. A.D. 1660-1750 256 Thou art First and Best, Jesu, sweetest Rest Wer ist wohl wie du, Jesu suesse Ruh--FREYLINGHAUSEN. 267 Shall I o'er the future fret Sollt' ich mich denn taeglich kraenken--SPENER. 270 Jehovah, God of boundless strength and might Jehovah, hoher Gott, von Macht und Staerke--BOGATZKY. 274 Courage, my heart, press cheerly on Frisch, frisch hindurch, mein Geist und Herz--DESSLER. 277 Thou fathomless Abyss of Love Abgrund wesentlicher Liebe--P. F. HILLER. 281 Bed of sickness! thou art sweet Angenehmes Alrankenbette--P. F. HILLER. 283 O Thou true God alone Unbegreiflich Gut, wahrer Gott alleine--JOACHIM NEANDER. 286 CHAPTER XII. THE MYSTICS AND SEPARATISTS. A.D. 1690-1760 289 Anoint us with Thy blessed Love Salb' uns mit deiner Liebe--GOTTFRIED ARNOLD. 293 Full many a way, full many a path Gar mancher Weg, gar manche Bahn--G. ARNOLD. 295 I leave Him not, who came to save Ich lass Ihn nicht, der einst gekommen--G. ARNOLD. 296 Lost in darkness, girt with dangers--GERHARD TERSTEEGEN. Extract from Jesu, mein Erbarmer, hoere. 298 I lose me in the thought Wo find ich mich--G. TERSTEEGEN. 302 Out! out, away! Aus, aus, hinaus--G. TERSTEEGEN. 303 Within! within, O turn Hinein, hinein--G. TERSTEEGEN. 303 Lovely, shadowy, soft, and still Lieblich, dunkel, sanft und stille--G. TERSTEEGEN. 304 To praise the Cross while yet untried Das Kreuz zu ruehmen weun es fern.--G. TERSTEEGEN. 304 Nay! not sore the Cross's weight Nein, das Kreuz hat keine Last--G. TERSTEEGEN. 304 Ah God! the world hath nought to please Ach, Gott, es taugt doch draussen nicht--G. TERSTEEGEN. 304 Jesu, day by day Jesu, geh voran--ZINZENDORF. 309 Such the King will stoop to and embrace Solche Leute will der Koenig kuessen--ZINZENDORF. 310 Lamp within me! brightly burn and glow Brenne hell du Lampe meiner Seele--ALBERTINI. 311 CHAPTER XIII. MODERN TIMES. A.D. 1750-1850 313 When these brief trial-days are spent Nach einer Pruefung kurzer Tage--GELLERT. 318 O ye, who from your earliest youth Die ihr, des Lebens edle zeit--CRAMER. 321 Trembling I rejoice Zitternd freu' ich mich--KLOPSTOCK. 329 Round their planet roll the moons Um Erden wandeln Monde--KLOPSTOCK. 332 Rise again! yes, rise again wilt thou Aufterstehn, ja aufterstehn wirst du--KLOPSTOCK. 333 At dead of night sleep took her flight Um Mitternacht bin ich erwacht--RUeCKERT. 337 In Bethlehem the Lord was born Er ist in Bethlehem geboren--RUeCKERT. 338 __________________________________________________________________ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE [7]PAUL GERHARDT Frontispiece 202 [8]HANS SACHS Vignette on Titlepage. [9]ULRICH VON HUTTEN To face 98 [10]JUSTUS JONAS To face 115 [11]PAUL EBER To face 119 [12]FRIEDRICH GOTTLIEB KLOPSTOCK To face 323 __________________________________________________________________ "A PREFACE TO ALL GOOD HYMN-BOOKS." By [13]DR. MARTIN LUTHER, 1543. Lady Musick speaketh. Vor allen Freuden auf Erden Of all the joys that are on earth Is none more dear nor higher worth, Than what in my sweet songs is found And instruments of various sound. Where friends and comrades sing in tune, All evil passions vanish soon; Hate, anger, envy, cannot stay, All gloom and heartache melt away; The lust of wealth, the cares that cling, Are all forgotten while we sing. Freely we take our joy herein, For this sweet pleasure is no sin, But pleaseth God far more, we know, Than any joys the world can show; The devil's work it doth impede And hinders many a deadly deed. So fared it with King Saul of old; When David struck his harp of gold, So sweet and clear its tones rang out, Saul's murderous thoughts were put to rout. The heart grows still when I am heard, And opens to God's Truth and Word; So are we by Elisha taught, Who on the harp the Spirit sought. The best time o' the year is mine, When all the little birds combine To sing until the earth and air Are filled with sweet sounds everywhere; And most the tender nightingale Makes joyful every wood and dale, Singing her love-song o'er and o'er, For which we thank her evermore. But yet more thanks are due from us To the dear Lord who made her thus, A singer apt to touch the heart, Mistress of all my dearest art. To God she sings by night and day, Unwearied, praising Him alway; Him I too laud in every song, To Whom all thanks and praise belong. __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER I. THE EARLY DAWN OF GERMAN SACRED POETRY AND SONG. A. D. 800-900 Each Christian people has brought its own characteristic tribute to the vast treasury of devotional thought and literature, which is the common property of the whole Christian Church. The tribute of Germany is pre-eminently that of sacred song, of verse and music in combination and adapted for use in the Church and among the people. Her literature begins with a work of religious poetry, and from that time onwards has been always remarkably rich in productions of this class. The very genius of the people--its inborn love for music, especially for part-singing, its bent towards the expression of feeling in the lyrical form--peculiarly fitted it for this work; and the result has been the creation of a literature of hymns and hymn-tunes, which has had a wide influence not only within but beyond Germany. The hymn-books of Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Iceland, and in part those of Holland, consist, to a large extent (until recently it would have been correct, we believe, to say, almost entirely), of translations and adaptations from the German; which have, however, become so completely naturalized among the people that their alien origin is forgotten, and they have furnished the model on which the hymns of native growth have been composed. In Switzerland, in the Protestant Church of France, and to some extent in Holland, the spread of the German hymns has been checked by the influence of the Calvinistic Churches, which have always feared to give a prominent place to art of any kind in the worship of God--rather indeed have allowed it to creep in on sufferance, than delighted to introduce it as a free-will offering of beauty. Yet here, too, hymns adopted from the German, or of the German type, have gradually made their way. In England the national character of our Reformation has left less scope for the influence of foreign elements. Our Church has distinguished its services more by the beauty of its prayers than its hymns, while our Nonconformist sects have been strongly imbued with those Calvinistic views of worship of whose influence we have just spoken. But a people with so marked a genius for poetry as the English, could not but use their gift in the service of religion as well as in secular ways; though the fact that hymns occupied a less important place in the religious worship of England than Germany, produced a marked difference in form in the compositions of the two countries. Germany's preeminence is in her hymns; but in sacred poetry not of this class, she has had no names of equal rank with those of Milton or Herbert of old, or Keble, Coleridge, and Wordsworth in the present day. In course of time, however, her hymns reached us too. There can be no doubt that the acquaintance of the Wesleys with the stores of her hymnology led them to see both the beauty of this form of poetry and the immense advantages that might be drawn from it, in spreading a knowledge of the truth among the common people, and in increasing the warmth and attractiveness of worship. They not only translated many German hymns, but wrote a large number themselves in the same style; and it is from their time that the impulse dates which has led to the study of hymnology, not only of English or German, but also of Latin and Eastern growth, and to the rise among us of a large number of new and very good hymn-writers and hymn-books. The story of the hymnology of Germany in the sense we have here given it, begins properly speaking with the Reformation. It was not until the people possessed the word of God and liberty to worship Him in their own language, that such a body of hymns could be created, though vernacular hymns and sacred lyrics had existed in Germany throughout the Middle Ages. But it was then that a great outburst of national poetry and music took place which reflected the spirit of those times; and on a somewhat smaller scale the same thing has happened both before and since that time at every great crisis in the history of the German people. The most marked of these periods are the twelfth and thirteenth centuries--the era of the Crusades abroad and the rise of the great cities at home; the Reformation; the great struggle for religious liberty in the seventeenth century; and the revival of literature towards the close of the eighteenth century, after the exhaustion that followed the Thirty Years' War. As far back, however, as we hear anything of the German race, we hear of their love for song. They sang hymns, we are told, in their heathen worship, and lays in honour of their heroes at their banquets; and their heaven was pictured as echoing with the songs of the brave heroes who had fallen in battle. The first dawn of Christianity came to the Gothic races from Greece, but in Southern Germany it seems to have proceeded from the many missionaries who were sent out by the British and Irish monasteries in the sixth century, who sought no special authorization from Rome, and did not carry with them the Roman liturgy. But the chief instruments in the conversion of the remoter regions were the Anglo-Saxon monk Winifred, better known as St. Boniface, who was martyred in 755, and Charlemagne. Both these great men saw the imperative need of some centre of unity and order to restore society and preserve anything of faith or of letters in those times of utter chaos and discord, and believed that they had found the means to this end in the unity of the Church. That they greatly promoted civilization there is no doubt, but their work, even that of Boniface, had its darker side, where it came in contact with an already existing Christianity, and forcibly repressed what was national and distinctive in its character. For wherever they went they introduced at once not only the Christian religion, but the hierarchy and liturgy of Rome, and with it the Gregorian Church music and the Latin hymns. __________________________________________________________________ Ambrosian Church Music This style of music owes its origin to Pope Gregory the Great, who ascended the papal chair in 590, and thenceforward devoted his extraordinary abilities and energy to securing the unity and independence of the Church. Here, however, we are only concerned with his influence on Church music. Before his time the Ambrosian style had been widely prevalent through the Western Church. It was founded on the Greek system of music, and was introduced by [14]St. Ambrose, with the assistance of Pope Damasius, into the Great Church of Milan in the year 386. A true instinct taught St. Ambrose to adopt for his hymns the most rhythmical form of Latin verse that was then in use, and for his tunes a popular and congregational style of melody, and thus both spread rapidly through the Western Church, and became a powerful engine for affecting the minds of the people of all classes. In a well-known passage of his "Confessions," [2] St. Augustine tells us (he is addressing our Lord):--"How did I weep, in Thy Hymns and Canticles, touched to the quick by the voices of Thy sweet-attuned Church! The voices flowed into my ears, and the Truth distilled into my heart, whence the affections of my devotion overflowed, and tears ran down, and happy was I therein. Not long had the Church of Milan begun to use this kind of consolation and exhortation, the brethren zealously joining with harmony of voice and hearts. For it was a year, or not much more, that Justina, mother to the Emperor Valentinian, a child, persecuted Thy servant, Ambrose, in favour of her heresy, to which she was seduced by the Arians. The devout people kept watch in the Church, ready to die with their bishop, Thy servant. Then it was first instituted that after the manners of the Eastern Churches, hymns and psalms should be sung, lest the people should wax faint through the tediousness of service; and from that day to this the custom is retained, almost all The congregations throughout other parts of the world following herein." One tune from the Ambrosian period is still preserved in Germany to the present day, in connexion with Luther's German version of St. Ambrose's great hymn, Veni Redemptor gentium. It is a simple, dignified, somewhat quaint melody. [3] In course of time, however, there is no doubt that Church music had become deteriorated by the introduction of a more secular style, and that this was one cause of the reaction under Gregory the Great. Yet another may perhaps be found in the fact that the Ambrosian style was an intrinsically congregational method of singing, which enabled all the people to bear a part, and not a small one, in the service; while the Gregorian, which had less melody and rhythm, and was extremely difficult to acquire, was necessarily restricted to the clergy and the trained choir, and therefore harmonized better with the hierarchical principles of Gregory. __________________________________________________________________ [2] Library of the Fathers. St. Augustine's "Confessions," p. 166. [3] It may be found in German tune-books under the name of "Nun kommt der Geidenheiland," and is No. 72 in the Chorale-Book for England. __________________________________________________________________ Gregorian Church Music It was natural, therefore, that from this period onwards, as the hierarchical element in the Church gained strength, this system should have rapidly supplanted its rival; nor would it be fair to say that this was altogether without its advantage, for in those distracted times the impulse towards unity in the Church was in many ways a true instinct towards self-preservation, and a common liturgy is one of the strongest bonds of a common religious life. There is, too, undoubtedly much grandeur and beauty in this style, which adapt it for certain forms and occasions of worship; but its stiffness and monotony, and its aptness to degenerate into a nasal unmusical chant in the hands of untrained singers, unfit it for truly popular and common use. It has maintained its place in the Roman Church to the present day, and has exerted a strong influence on the music of the reformed Churches. During the eighteenth century this influence showed itself markedly in Germany in the adoption of a certain slow and uniform style of singing the old chorales, admitting only notes of equal length, and in "common" time. Recently there has again been a reaction towards the freer and more varied rhythm of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the laity delighted to assert their right to a share in the Christian priesthood, by bearing a part in the public service of God. One thing that helped to make the Gregorian chanting an affair of the learned, was the very complicated method of notation then employed, and it was soon found necessary to establish schools, in which singers went through a training that lasted often for years. Gregory founded a famous school in Rome, with a prior and four masters, and for many generations afterwards the sofa was shown on which he used to recline while himself examining the scholars. They were mostly orphan boys who were entirely maintained here, and afterwards received appointments from the Pope. In the days of King Ethelbert, forty of them came to England, and introduced the Gregorian music into this country. Charlemagne, like our own Alfred, was an enthusiastic lover of Church music, and especially of this style which he had learnt to know in Rome. In his own chapel he carefully noted the powers of all the priests and singers, and sometimes acted as choir-master himself, in which capacity he proved a very strict, often severe master, He extinguished the last remnants of the Ambrosian style at Milan, and it was with his approval that Pope Leo III. (795-810) imposed a penalty of exile or imprisonment on any singer who might deviate from the orthodox Cantus firmus et choralis. He not only founded schools of music in France, but throughout Germany, at Fulda, Mayence, Treves, Reichenau, and other places. Trained singers from the famous choirs in Rome were sent for to take charge of these institutions, and seem to have been not a little shocked at first by the barbarism of their pupils. One says that their notion of singing in Church was to howl like wild beasts; while another, Johannes Didimus, in his Life of Gregory, affirms that--"These gigantic bodies, whose voices roar like thunder, cannot imitate our sweet tones, for their barbarous and ever-thirsty throats can only produce sounds as harsh as those of a loaded waggon passing over a rough road." __________________________________________________________________ A Benedictine Monastery The new style of Church music naturally found its most zealous promoters in the cloisters, among whom we may name Rabanus Maurus, a pupil of Alcuin, and abbot of the great convent of Fulda, and Walafrid (nicknamed Strabo), abbot of Reichenau. The Benedictine monasteries which were henceforward founded in increasing numbers north of the Alps, were for the next two or three centuries, the asylums where arts and letters were preserved through the storms of those stormy times. Every convent, in fact, constituted a little town in itself when it had attained its full proportions. It began generally in the humblest manner. The abbot of some considerable monastery would send a small band of missionary monks to some spot, chosen either for its natural advantages, or from the needs, or perhaps the earnestly-expressed wishes, of the surrounding population. First, the monks would fell the trees, and erect temporary huts for themselves; then the chapel was built and service celebrated; then more permanent abodes were constructed, and gardens and fields were brought into cultivation. Then, if possible, the relics of some saint were procured, and deposited within the altar to give a special sanctity to the place, and attract worshippers in the hope of obtaining miraculous cures, and henceforward the number of monks and dependants would rapidly increase. When the institution was completed, we know by plans still preserved in the archives of St. Gall, that it would consist of the church as centre, the monks' dwellings, the cloisters, and the convent school within the inner inclosure; around which clustered handsome buildings for the abbot's and physician's houses; for the secular school, the hospital, the lodgings for travellers, whether monks or laymen; and the smaller abodes and workshops necessary for the various artificers whose crafts here found employment. The whole of this little town, so to speak, was itself inclosed within a ditch, and in later times fortified with walls and towers. __________________________________________________________________ Notker's Sequences Among the most complete and famous of these monasteries was that of St. Gall. In that lonely but sheltered spot on the lower slopes of the Alps, and not far from Lake Constance, which gave access to Southern Germany, there was cherished for centuries a sacred fire of true enthusiasm for learning, which spread its light by degrees into many a half-barbarous court and distant convent. Here the earliest and most strenuous efforts were made to tame the rough mother-tongue of the Germans, and teach it to express as far as might be the shades of thought and feeling which the languages of Greece and Rome had so marvellously embodied, and all that the Christian faith had to say besides. There exists in its archives a very ancient Latin and German dictionary traditionally ascribed to St. Gall himself (died 638), and many other glossaries, paraphrases, and interlinear translations from the Latin. Among those who thus occupied themselves in the ninth century was a monk named [15]Notker, whom Walafrid, then Dean of St. Gall's, strongly urged to devote himself to sacred poetry. He wrote, however, in Latin, and his hymns therefore concern our subject only because he was the originator of a form of Latin hymnology, which when translated into German gave rise to the earliest German hymns, properly so called, with which we are acquainted. This was the Latin Sequence or Prose. It was customary in all cases where a Hallelujah was introduced to prolong the last syllable, and to sing on the vowel "ah" a series of elaborate passages intended to represent an outburst of jubilant feeling. These were termed Sequences, because they followed the Hallelujah and repeated its notes, and were of course sung without words. What Notker did was to write words for them, and he tells us himself how he came to do it, in a letter addressed to Bishop Luitward, to whom he dedicated a volume of these compositions. "When I was yet young and could not always succeed in retaining in my memory the long-drawn melodies on the last syllable of the Hallelujah, I cast about in my mind for some method of making them easier to remember. Now it happened that a certain priest from Gimedia came to us who had an Antiphonarium, wherein were written some strophes to these melodies, but indeed by no means free from faults. This put it into my mind to compose others for myself after the same manner. I showed them to my teacher, Yso, whom they pleased on the whole, only he remarked, that as many notes as there were in the music, so many words must there be in the text. At this suggestion I went through my work again, and now Yso accepted it with full approbation, and gave the text to the boys to sing." These Sequences spread rapidly, for they supplied the want that was beginning to be felt of melodies in which sometimes the people could join, and words which could be adapted to special occasions beyond the ordinary service of the mass. They increased in number therefore more quickly than the hymns properly so called, and gradually assumed a strictly metrical form, which at first they did not possess. Notker himself composed thirty-five of them; and one which still finds a place in our own Burial Service, the "[16]Media vita in morte," is traditionally ascribed to him, and said to have been written while watching some workmen building the bridge of St. Martin at the peril of their lives. It cannot however be certainly traced beyond the eleventh century, but from that time onwards it was in use in the Latin, and afterwards in a German version as a battle-song, which was supposed to exert magical influences. __________________________________________________________________ The Heliand It is to this same ninth century, and in one instance, to the teachings of the convent of St. Gall, that we owe the two earliest specimens of German sacred poetry. They are both Harmonies of the Gospels, and it strikingly shows the affinity of the Teutonic mind for the Jewish Scriptures, that the earliest monuments of its written literature are all drawn from this source--the translation of the Bible into Gothic by Ulphilas, the great Bishop of the Goths, who died in 388, and the two books now before us. The earliest of them is called "The Heliand," or the Saviour, and is written in Saxon, therefore in the ancient Low German dialect. It is said to have been suggested by Louis the Pious to teach the newly-converted Saxons something of the faith they had accepted, and to have been carried out by a peasant who heard in his sleep a voice summoning him to the undertaking. About thirty years later, a similar task was achieved by Otfried, a monk probably of Alemannic race, who had been educated at first at Fulda under Rabanus Maurus, then had lived many years in St. Gall, and finally removed to Weissenburg in Alsace, another of the numerous monasteries scattered along the border of Switzerland, where the mountains break down to the lakes and cultivated country of Northern Europe. Though they thus belong to the same period of time, these works were composed under widely different circumstances. In Southern Germany the Romans had founded large cities, and Roman and Celtic elements were mingled with the Teutonic blood. Christianity had early made its way there, and a considerable amount of it existed before the earliest missionaries from Rome came thither. In the seventh century St. Emmeran found a multitude of priests and churches in Bavaria; the land had already gloried in several native saints before the time of Charlemagne; and culture must have made no inconsiderable progress, when we are told that the noble lady Theudelinde was able to maintain a pious and learned correspondence with Pope Gregory the Great. In Northern Germany, on the other hand, little had been done for the introduction of Christianity until Charlemagne converted the people by force, and the country long remained scantily populated and unsettled. Vast tracts of forest or heath were interrupted by solitary farmsteads of immense extent, where cattle and sheep were the chief source of wealth; for, until the close of the tenth century, there was but little agriculture; towns and monasteries existed but in small numbers and at great distances, and it was long before any churches except the convent chapels were built. Slowly the new religion permeated this wild and scattered people; but as it did so, it rooted itself the more deeply in the popular life, and bore less of the impress of the hierarchical and Roman element than the religion of Southern Germany, a distinction which has maintained itself even to the present day. The form of the two works is contrasted as we might expect from their origin; the Heliand is written in the alliterative measure of the ancient ballads, but without strophes; the work of Otfried is composed in four-lined verses with rhyme. Rhyme is a peculiarly Christian ornament of verse, and the struggle was long between accented and rhymed forms of poetry, and the ancient forms of classical metre. Otfried's is the first rhymed poem we possess, and thus has always marked an important epoch in European literature. The Heliand is not so much a Harmony of the Gospels as a Saxon epic on the life of our Lord, and it seems to have been intended to form part of a larger work embracing the whole course of Scripture History. The style is simple and naive: the writer nowhere brings forward his own personality, but is evidently inspired by a strong love to his subject. The relation of the disciples, and implicitly the relation of all Christians to their Lord, is conceived after the true Teutonic type as that of followers bound by an oath to their duke or leader; all that expresses personal loyalty and obedience on the one hand, or affectionate condescension on the other, is brought out with quick insight and strong feeling. In general, the writer keeps very close to his authorities, but in some passages, where the heathen lays may have been recalled to his mind, he permits himself a more excursive description, and echoes of the old Scandinavian ballads float through his verse. The Sermon on the Mount specially attracts him, and he gives it with fulness and evident predilection. __________________________________________________________________ Otfried of Weissenburg Otfried, on the other hand, continually betrays his acquaintance with classical models, and the self-consciousness of the educated barbarian in the presence of a higher culture. He is constantly lamenting his own incompetence and the barbarism of the German tongue; he gives fewer facts and less of the distinctly ethical discourses than his Saxon contemporary; but he much more frequently introduces episodes, sometimes similes or allegories from ecclesiastical works, sometimes mystical and moral reflections of his own. But there are passages where he rises to warmth and true poetry, as where, in describing the journey of the Magi, he speaks of the longing of the soul for its heavenly fatherland; and the very idea of thus endeavouring to make the grounds of their faith intelligible to the common people, marks him out as no common man. The following is a version of the passage just mentioned. The rhyme and metre of the original are very irregular, and here and there a rhyme is wanting altogether; still, as its structure constitutes a marked difference between this poem and its predecessors, it seemed best to imitate, as far as possible, its rhythm, while keeping close to the meaning; but in such a process somewhat of the poetical element is apt to vanish. __________________________________________________________________ MYSTICE DE REVERSIONE MAGORUM AD PATRIAM. Manot unsih thisu fart Now warneth us the Wise Men's fare That hereof we be well aware, How we should to ourselves take heed, And seek our native land with speed. Ye wot not what I say, I wis; That land is hight the Paradise: I verily could laud it sore, For wordes fail me nevermore. But if of all my members each Were gifted with the gift of speech, Yet could not any words avail To tell out all its wondrous tale. Never couldst thou believe it right Save thou shouldst see it with thy sight, Nor couldst thou well, not even then, Tell what thou saw'st to other men. For there is life withouten doom, And there is light withouten gloom; There wonneth the angelic race, And everlasting blessedness. We have forsaken it, alas! Well may we rue that came to pass; Well may we never stay to weep After the home we did not keep. We fared forth hastily from thence Misled by pride and arrogance, Lured in some fond and secret guise, By lusts that tempted us with lies. Ah! then we list not to obey, And bear the mark thereof alway! Now here as exiles we must stand Sore weeping in an alien land: Unused, alas! from age to age Lieth our proper heritage, Untasted what it hath of good,-- So wrought for us our haughty mood. We now must suffer and be sad For lack of joy we might have had; We now must bear, as best we may, Sore want and many a bitter day. Now full of sorrow we bemoan Our lot in this land not our own, And bear the wounds that sin doth smite, And many griefs of our sad plight. Here many a trial night and day Lurketh in wait beside our way, And yet we orphans sad and weak Not yet our home are fain to seek. Ah, well-a-day, thou stranger land! Hard art thou truly to our band, Heavy art thou and hast no ruth, I tell thee this in very truth. Sore griefs do here the heart beset That for its home is pining yet: Well have I found this true in me, Nought joyous have I met in thee. The only gifts thou dost bestow Are a heart laden with its woe, A mood that aye is fain to weep, And sorrows manifold and deep. But if into our mind it come That we once more will seek our home, And if our hearts would swift return, And with a dolorous longing yearn: Then like the Wise Men shall we fare By a new road to bring us there, Seeking the true way that will lead Back to the home we sorely need. That path, I wot, is fair and sweet, But must be trod with washen feet: Such is the manner, well I ween, Of men that would thereon be seen. Kindness must in thy soul be bred, And great and willing lowlihead; And, most of all, within thy heart True love must live in every part. Learn thou to find thy joy in guise Of fair and ready sacrifice; Yield to the good thy will alway, And never thine own lusts obey. Within the love-shrine of thy heart, Let love of this world have no part; From things of passing time now flee, Their very loss shall profit thee. Remember what I erst did say, This is that new and other way; Choose thou to tread it, as I rede, And surely to thy home 'twill lead. And when thou dost that life possess, And knowest all its blessedness, To God Himself wilt thou be dear, And nevermore know harm or fear. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER II. A LONG TWILIGHT. A.D. 900-1100. Barbarian Incursions The two centuries we have now reached are a very barren period for literature. Charlemagne had given an impulse to arts and letters of which the effects are traceable as long as there were any pupils left of the circle of learned men whom he gathered round his court. But these gradually died out, and his vast empire fell to pieces. Then came a time when men had something else to do than to read or write; had too often to fight or flee for their lives to have much leisure or thought for more peaceful tasks. The frontiers of Germany had to be secured, its lands brought under cultivation, its towns built, its social polity developed. It was not until the great defeat of the Normans in 891 by Arnulf, at Loven on the Dyle, that Germany was delivered from their attacks, and its eastern portion was kept in constant alarm by the incursions of the Hungarian and Slavonic tribes, until nearly the close of the eleventh century. Thus on one occasion, early in this century, the whole of Germany between the Elbe and the Oder was ravaged; the most horrible cruelties were practised, especially against monks and priests, and all the churches were burnt down. The cause of offence was that the chief had asked in marriage the daughter of the Duke of Saxony, and had received the scornful reply that it was not meet to give a Duke's daughter to a dog,--a play on the words Hun and Hund, or hound. A vivid description of one of these incursions is left us by Eckhard IV., a monk and chronicler of St. Gall. In the year 924, an invasion of the Hungarians took place, which lasted for two years. The wild hordes first burst into Bavaria, swept over all the south of Germany, and then vanish from our story as they pass down the Rhine. They carried with them cattle and carts containing their plunder. At night they placed their carts in a circle, lit watch-fires, and stationed watchmen outside the barrier, while within it they encamped on the ground. By day they ravaged the country, plundering and burning on all sides; so that their approach was heralded by the red glare of burning villages on the horizon. When the abbot of St. Gall heard of them, he assembled the brethren and all the dependants, and commanded that they should at once begin to make spears, and shields, and other weapons, and also prepare a fortified asylum in case of attack. He himself and the other monks put on their coats of steel, and drew over them the monk's cloak and cowl, and laid their own hands to the work of fortifying the point he had chosen, a spot at the junction of three streams, which could only be approached by a narrow way. The monks and servants would not believe in the coming danger, and so it was but just in time that they transported their valuables to this retreat. The very next day the Huns appeared. Only two persons had been left in the convent, a holy woman who had made a vow of seclusion and refused to leave her cell, and a half-witted monk who could not be induced to accompany his brethren into their fortress. The former was murdered, the latter was treated with a rough good-nature, and given as much wine and meat as he could take,--"though of a truth the discourteous people, when I had drunk enough, forced me to drink more with blows," he said afterwards. The Hungarians took all they could find, and observing that the highest point of the building, the vane, was crowned by a shining cock, they concluded this to be the god of the place, and supposed his image would be of gold. Two men therefore tried to ascend the tower and bring down the weathercock, but both fell and were killed. Their companions, enraged, next endeavoured to burn down the church, but its thick walls defied their efforts, on which they withdrew to the gardens, saying that the god was too strong for them. They then sent spies to examine the abbot's place of refuge, but these reported that its natural strength and the determination of its defenders seemed so great, that it would be best to leave it alone; and so, after a long and wild banquet in the convent gardens, the barbarians gradually drew off, and fell upon the neighbouring villages. For some weeks, however, the abbot could not venture to leave his fort, fearing their return, but every day he and some of the bolder monks stole down to the abbey, and said mass at its altar. At last he heard that the enemy was really gone. One of the suburbs of Constance had been burnt down, but the town itself and the abbey of Reichenau, which had been next attacked, had been successfully defended, and the barbarians were on their way to the Rhine. By very slow degrees these wild people were either subdued and converted to Christianity, or pressed back into the vast plains and thick forests and morasses of Central Europe, and the frontiers of Germany became at peace. But within them was constant fighting still. All the great nobles claimed the right of private war; there was no regular administration of justice; trial by ordeal was practised; and a revolt against the Emperor himself appeared to his powerful vassals the most natural thing to be undertaken when they had any grievance to avenge, or when his absence in Italy offered a fair opportunity. These early Othos and Henrys of the Saxon and Salic lines, were indeed, for the most part, men of ability and energy, who strove hard to establish order and promote civilization; but their power in the State depended almost entirely on their personal character and the wealth and consequence of their families, and was weakened by their frequent absences in Italy. The Truce of God In Germany itself, the clergy, on the whole, frequently sided with the Emperor as against the nobles, and to some extent thus constituted themselves protectors of the common people. They treated their dependants more mildly than other lords did, and their methods of agriculture were superior to any other; they gave employment, too, to many handicrafts, and thus it was not unnatural that towns gradually grew up or rapidly increased round the great abbeys and bishops' sees. It was to two assemblies of bishops, moreover, that the distracted world owed that Truce of God, proclaimed in the year 1032, which gave breathing-time to the poor down-trodden peasant or townsman, and was the beginning of a more settled state of society. It was an agreement that no violence or weapons of any kind should be used from sunset on Wednesday to sunrise on Monday, nor on any high festival of the Church, and whosoever violated this peace was to pay his fine or wehrgeld, or suffer excommunication. Many of the nobles at first refused to submit to this, and declared their intention of adhering to the good old customs of their forefathers, and fighting on every day in the week: but a succession of bad harvests and a great dearth which occurred about this time was pointed out to them by the bishops as a sign of God's anger with their conduct; and even the turbulent Normans of France yielded to this argument. Nor indeed was it untrue, for it is evident that the local scarcities of food, which were of terribly frequent occurrence at this period, were in great measure due to the evil passions and ignorance of men. From this time onwards, however, we can trace an increase in the extent of land brought under cultivation; mining was introduced in the Harz district, and the towns steadily grew in wealth and importance. But how much of heathen superstition still lingered in the most Christian and civilized places, is curiously shown by a Mirror of Confession written by a Bishop Burchardt of Worms, early in the eleventh century. There we find penances assigned for worshipping the sun, the moon, the starry heavens, the new moon, or an eclipse, and for trying to restore the moon's light when eclipsed, by wild outcries, "as though the elements could help thee, or thou couldst help them." So, too, offering prayers and sacrifices by a well, at a cross-road, or to stones is forbidden, and so is the old wives' custom at the birth of a child, of placing food and drink and three knives on the table to propitiate the Parcae or Three Sisters. The good old bishop believes in trial by ordeal, but we cannot but feel a great respect for him when we find the belief in the possibility of witchcraft and in divination classed among utterly vain and empty superstitions; and when we observe the heavy penalties affixed to slaying a bondsman even at the command or by the hand of his lord, unless he were a thief and a murderer; and to selling or entrapping any human being into slavery. To the former of these offences it seems no secular penalty was then attached, the lord possessing the power of life and death over his bondsman. Yet side by side with these superstitions there was a great deal of genuine Christian faith, among the laity as well as the clergy. The separation between these two classes was not indeed so marked as it afterwards became. Many of the secular clergy were married--Bishop Burchardt imposes a penance on any one who should despise or refuse the ministrations of a married priest,--and the monks often vied with the knights in field sports, as they did with the farmer in agriculture. When the need arose of defending land or faith by arms, the abbot raised his troops like the lord of any other fief, and could even on occasion, as we have seen at St. Gall, put on his own coat of mail and become general himself. On the other hand, many knights rivalled the monks in pious exercises, and the cloister was their natural refuge when pressed by conscience or the troubles of a restless life. It was in the secular school of the convent that their children were educated, and it was among the higher clergy that the princes sought for State-advisers and secretaries. Ezzo of Babingberg Throughout this period the literature of Germany remained exclusively in the hands of the clergy, and was written in Latin, the then universal medium of communication for the learned class. Even so truly popular a subject as the story of "Renard the Fox" was treated in Latin, for the earliest existing MS. of it is a Latin version, which it is, however, supposed was based on a Flemish original now lost. [4] This was indeed a sort of flowering time of mediaeval Latin poetry, while native German poetry was almost extinct. Only a very few German poems remain from these centuries, and these are not remarkable except for their date. The principal are two long poems, by Ezzo, a learned canon of Babingberg, on the miracles of Christ, and on the mysteries of redemption and creation. __________________________________________________________________ Early Hymns In the public services of the Church the people's share was confined to uttering the response, "Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison," at certain intervals during the singing of the Latin hymns and psalms. These words were frequently repeated, sometimes two or three hundred times in one service, and were apt to degenerate into a kind of scarcely articulate shout, as is proved by the early appearance, even in writing, of such forms as "Kyrieles." But soon after [17]Notker had created the Latin Sequence, the priests began to imitate it in German, in order to furnish the people with some intelligible words in place of the mere outcry to which they had become accustomed. They wrote irregular verses, every strophe of which ended with the words, "Kyrie Eleison," from the last syllables of which these earliest German hymns were called Leisen. They were, however, never used in the service of the mass, but only on popular festivals, on pilgrimages, and such occasions. The most ancient that has been handed down to us is one on St. Peter, dating from the beginning of the tenth century, of which we give an imitation, as well as we can manage it, in English; and also of a prayer from the tenth century, which is found at the close of a copy of Otfried's work, inscribed, "The Bishop Waldo caused this Evangelium to be made, and Sigibart, an unworthy priest, wrote it." The language of both differs so widely from modern German, as to be unintelligible without a glossary; but both are written in irregular metre, and in rhyme, though the rhymes are very imperfect. __________________________________________________________________ ST. PETER. i Unsar trohtin hat farsalt [18]Anon. trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 Our dear Lord of grace hath given To St. Peter power in heaven, That he may uphold alway, All who hope in him, and say Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! Therefore must he stand before The heavenly kingdom's mighty door; There will he an entrance give To those who shall be bid to live: Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! Let us to God's servant pray, All, with loudest voice to-day, That our souls which else were lost May dwell among the heavenly host: Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! __________________________________________________________________ PRAYER. 7,7,7,7 Du Himilisco trohtin trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 Thou Heavenly Lord of Light, Guide us with grace and might To Thine own realm, to be For ever like to Thee. Lord Christ, from heaven above Send us Thy Father's love, That we to heaven may go, Nor suffer the least woe. __________________________________________________________________ ANOTHER PRAYER (Ninth Century). 7,7,7,7 Got thir eigenhaf ist [19]Anon. trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 God, it is Thy property Ever merciful to be; Hear the prayers we now outpour, For we need Thy mercy sore. We are bound without, within, With the heavy chains of sin; Tenderly and speedily Let Thy pity set us free. __________________________________________________________________ [4] The earliest German version dates from 1170. __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER III. THE MORNING. A.D. 1100-1250 A wonderful change came over Germany during the next two centuries. There was a great change in the mere external aspect of the country. The peasant who looked out from the door of his farmstead saw a very different landscape from that which greeted his forefather's eyes. The forest indeed still skirted the horizon, but the cleared spaces were wider, and the monotonous green of the broad stretches of pasture land was broken up by the more varied colouring of arable crops. The villages were far more thickly studded over the land, and nearly every one had its wooden church with its one tinkling bell; while farther off, by the river-side, stood some great abbey with its stone buildings, round which a busy town was rapidly growing up, where the village found a market for its produce and employment for its superfluous population. But one new feature would not please the peasant quite so well: on any neighbouring height which commanded the fertile meadows beneath, there was almost sure to be perched a new stone dwelling, inhabited by some armed follower of the prince or great lord of the country, and from these strongholds a lawless crew often issued to carry off the fruits of peaceful industry. During the next two hundred years, indeed, the most marked changes in the social aspect of the age were the growth of the great towns in size, wealth, political power, and all the arts of life; and the rise of a large class of armed and mounted followers of the great lords of the empire, whom the institution of chivalry placed, in a certain sense, on a level with their chiefs, while it constituted a barrier between them and the unknightly classes--an order which in after-times developed into the lesser nobility of the empire. Frederick Barbarossa But it was altogether an era of rapid growth, one of those times when men's minds are awake and alive, and full of energy to attempt new enterprises in any field. Germany was ruled by the Hohenstauffens, a vigorous, ambitious, warlike race, whose dream it was to prove themselves true heirs of Charlemagne by re-establishing the Empire of the West, and who fell at last in that struggle with the popes of which the real basis was the question whether the headship of Western Christendom was to belong to the State or the Church. The noblest of them, Frederick Barbarossa (1152-1189), had all the qualities that made him the darting hero of the people: brave, handsome, able in war and in council--a liberal patron of the singers and builders, whose arts were beginning everywhere to flourish on the German soil--the champion of his country against the Papal chair--the conqueror of the warlike Normans of Southern Italy,--he stirred the hearts of the people with an enthusiasm that was in itself an education. The very manner of his death threw a legendary halo round his memory. That their monarch should at last have taken the Cross in his old age, and far away in the Eastern land, when a river had to be crossed, should have plunged in on horseback before his whole army, to show the way, and perished in the attempt, seemed a fitting end for so brave a life; yet the mass of the people would not believe he was dead: in the popular imagination he became confounded with his great predecessor Charlemagne, and the legend was transferred to him, of the sleeping monarch in a hidden cave who was to start to life again in his country's utmost need. The Crusades But not only did the frequent expeditions of the Hohenstauffens into Italy bring the Germans into contact with the more refined culture of the Lombard cities and the southern Normans, yet wider fields were opened to them by the Crusades. It was at this period that one mighty impulse thrilled through Western Christendom, and drew men, women, and children even, nobles and peasants alike, to the service of the Cross. It was no wonder that men's hearts were attracted to a service which in this new form touched the springs of loyal allegiance to the invisible Lord, and of reverent compassion for His earthly sufferings, and also of worldly ambition and love of adventure, and opened to the soldier a means of securing as high a place in the heavenly kingdom by his own craft of fighting, as the monk could gain by prayer and mortification. And so for the next two hundred years there was a constant stream of Crusaders going to and returning from the East, and rendering the intercourse between the East and West almost as close as that between Europe and America in our own day. If these expeditions wrought much harm and misery by their terrible drain on the strongest part of the population, by the wild habits and unknown forms of disease (such as the Oriental leprosy and plague) which were brought home by returning bands of pilgrims, they also wrought much good. Many joined them from a true impulse of devotion, and came back trained and tempered knights and warriors who had learned letters and refinement from the Normans and Provenc,als; the priest and scholar brought back new ideas and new manuscripts from Greece; the merchant discovered new channels for commerce, and carried home new fruits and luxuries to his native fields and city. Germany, however, was less affected by the universal enthusiasm than the other European nations: it was longer before the fire was kindled in the slow hearts of the people: the struggles with the popes made enterprises patronised by them less popular; and there were never wanting men who looked on them with a disenchanted eye. "If it were of a truth so grievous to our Lord Christ," says one of the Minne-singers, "that the Saracens should rule over the spot of His entombment, could not He alone humble the power of the heathen nation, and would He need our hands to help Him?" An old monkish chronicle of Wurzburg begins its narration of the second crusade under the Emperor Conrad III., by declaring that in the year 1147, "there came into the country false prophets, sons of Belial, sworn servants of Antichrist, who by their empty words seduced Christians, and by their vain preaching impelled all kinds of men to go forth to deliver Jerusalem from the Saracens." It goes on to describe the mixed multitude that was gathered together for this purpose, and the very mixed motives that actuated them. "The one had this, the other that object. For many were curious after new things, and went forth to behold a strange land; others were constrained by poverty and the meanness of their circumstances at home, and these were ready to fight not only with the foes of the Cross of Christ, but with any good friends to Christendom, if thereby they might but get rid of this their poverty. Others again were burdened with debt, or hoped secretly to escape from the services they owed to their lord, or they feared the merited punishment of their misdeeds; all these simulated great zeal for God, but they were zealous only to throw down the heavy load of their own troubles. Scarce a few could be found who had not bowed the knee to Baal; who were guided by a pious and meritorious intention, and were so inflamed by the love of the Divine Majesty, that they were ready to shed their blood for the Most Holy Place. But we will leave this matter to Him who can read all hearts, only adding, that God best knoweth who are His." Similar judgments are expressed by many other writers throughout the twelfth century; and even where the poet or chronicler is filled with enthusiasm for the great idea embodied in these enterprises, we find a curiously frank and shrewd exposure of the defects in their execution. This mood of mind, a sort of slow practical good sense and perception of actual facts, may explain the circumstance noticed by many of their contemporaries, that the Germans were the last to join and the first to discontinue the Crusades. Still there is also a great capacity for enthusiasm in the German people, and they by no means stood apart altogether from what constituted the great life of Europe in those days. Four of their emperors took the Cross, and were followed to the East by immense armies, and many knights joined in other expeditions. The immediate fruit of this participation in the common life of Christendom was the rapid development of the institution of chivalry, and of a national literature--the first great outburst of German poetry and song. It came almost suddenly. We seem to pass at a bound from an age when literature was almost exclusively Latin and in the hands of the clergy, to one when it is German and chiefly in the hands of the knightly order. A few compositions indeed remain from the early part of the twelfth century which mark the period of transition; for though in language and subject they approach the new school, they are still the work of the clerical class. Such in religious poetry are the "Life of Jesus," by a nun who died in 1127, the version of the Pentateuch, and in secular poetry the Lays of Roland and of Alexander, &c., written by priests. But very soon a whole large [5] class of lyrical poets sprang up who are known to us as the Minne-singers; their works are in German, and show a wonderful mastery over the language. Instead of the imperfect rhymes and halting metre of the previous age, we have long poems in intricate metre and crowded with rhymes, which occur often in the middle as well as at the end of each line. It became the fashion to compose if possible, at least to learn and sing these poems. They flew over the country on the wings of the tunes attached to them; wandering knights and grooms taught them to each other; they were sung at village-wakes, and at courts and tournaments; and ladies had collections of them written on slips of parchment and tied together with bright-coloured ribbons. The subjects of this new poetry were, except in some rare cases, limited in range. It concerned itself almost entirely with ladies' love, with feats of arms, and with that contrast between the bright and dark side of human life which was so strongly felt throughout the mediaeval times, and never more so than at this period. It was, unlike that which had preceded it, an age when there was great enjoyment of life,--delight in adventure, in social intercourse, and knightly pastimes; delight in natural beauty, such as the glow of summer and the song of birds, in the beauty of women, of costume, of verse, of stately buildings. There is a strain of almost childlike gaiety to be heard in most of these old poets. But it was also a time when life was peculiarly uncertain; when long partings from home and friends, strange vicissitudes of fortune, or death, might overtake at any moment those in highest place; while the Christian faith had awakened in the thoughtful Teutonic race that sense of the incompleteness and inadequacy of all finite beauty, of remorse for sin, of mysterious awe in face of the eternal destinies of man, which once roused could never be wholly laid to sleep again. The very changes of the seasons came with a sharper contrast to those men in their rude uncomfortable abodes than we in our ceiled and glazed houses can well imagine. Winter was a time of darkness, discomfort, and isolation; spring brought life and hope, and was welcomed all over the country by symbolic festivals at which the prince and princess of May and their followers encountered and overcame the representative of savage Winter. Summer brought the happy out-of-doors toil to the husbandman; the tournament, or the real combat, or the wandering life to lady, and knight, and squire. No wonder then, that in the poetry of these days, the alternation of joy and sorrow, "Freud und Leid," meets us in every form; in the happiness of greeting and the pain of parting; in the gloom of winter and the joyousness of the May-time; in the praise of pleasure, and in meditations on penitence and death. __________________________________________________________________ German Sequences In the Church, too, the voice of native song now made itself heard. The German Sequences, "Leisen," or "Leiche," [6] as they were also called, became much more common, and at the highest festivals were sung even at the service of the mass itself. One for Easter, which we meet with in many various forms, and another for Whitsuntide, were thus used, and have descended to the present day as the first verses of two of Luther's best-known hymns:-- Christus ist erstanden [20]Luther "Christ the Lord is risen, Out of Death's dark prison, Let us all rejoice to-day, Christ shall be our hope and stay: Kyrie eleison. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia! Let us all rejoice to-day; Christ shall be our hope and stay. Kyrie eleison." Or in other forms-- "Christ hath risen again, Broken every chain;" Or, "Christ is risen again, Out of all that pain." And for Whitsuntide, "here singeth the whole Church," as an old manuscript says,-- Nu biten wir den heiligen geist [21]Spervogel. Twelfth century. trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 "Now let us pray the Holy Ghost For that True Faith we need the most, And that He may keep us when death shall come, And from this ill world we travel home. Kyrie eleison." These are attributed to [22]Spervogel, a writer of the twelfth century, of whom we only know that he was a priest, of a burgher family, and a favourite sacred poet of that time. He composed many short didactic poems, almost epigrammatic in brevity and condensed thought, which were the beginning of a class of religious poetry that was much loved and practised in the next two or three centuries. __________________________________________________________________ Another "Leich" or "Sequence" of his, which became extremely popular, is THE PRAISE OF GOD. i Wurze des waldes [23]Spervogel. Twelfth century. trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 All growth of the forest, The deep-hidden gold, All secret abysses, Thine eye doth behold; In Thy Hand all things lie. All the hosts of the heavens Cannot fill up the meed of Thy praises on high. __________________________________________________________________ Another of his poems is called HEAVEN AND HELL. i Er ist gewaltic unde Starc [24]Spervogel. Twelfth century. trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869 He is full of power and might Who was born on Christmas night, The holy Christ is He; Praised of all things that be, Save the devil, whose lothely pride Brooked not once to bow the knee, So must he in hell abide. In that hell is mickle woe, Well doth he who dwells there know; Shineth not the sun so bright, Helpeth not the moon by night, Not a star he there may see, Foul is all that meets his sight, Ah how fain in heaven were he! But in heaven there stands a Home, A golden way thereto doth come, The pillars are of marble fair, Set about with jewels rare, That our Lord for it doth win: But no man may enter there, Save that he be pure from sin. He who goeth to church full fain, Pure from envy and from stain, Gladsome life he well may have; Him await beyond the grave, Angel friends and blithesome morn, Heavenly life so fair and brave; Well for him that he was born! Alas! that I have served so long A lord that is both fell and strong; Evil wage from him I win, Ah I rue me of my sin! Holy Ghost, now succour me Ere my woes in hell begin, Break his bonds and set me free. __________________________________________________________________ [6] The origin of this term is uncertain, but it is thought to have denoted at first a certain dance measure. It is often applied to very long poems of somewhat irregular structure. __________________________________________________________________ The Minne-Singers Several of the great Latin hymns were also translated into German at this time; and that these hymns and sequences were used in church is proved by a passage in a Life of St. Bernard by a contemporary and disciple, in which it is expressly mentioned that in the cathedral at Cologne the people broke out into hymns of praise in the German tongue at every miracle wrought by the saint; and the writer regrets that when they left the German soil this custom ceased, as the nations who spoke the Romanic languages did not possess native hymns after the manner of the others. Still undoubtedly their use in church was very restricted, and was always regarded with suspicion by the more papal of the clergy; but there were many other occasions in life on which they were employed: they seem to have been commonly sung at the saints' festivals and special services which were frequently held outside the church, and on pilgrimages. So St. Francis, in an address to his monks in the year 1221, says: "There is a certain country called Germany, wherein dwell Christians, and of a truth very pious ones, who as you know often come as pilgrims into our land, with their long staves and great boots; and amid the most sultry heat and bathed in sweat, yet visit all the thresholds of the holy shrines, and sing hymns of praise to God and all His saints." It may give us some idea of the quantity of poetry written from this time onwards, that the great collection by M. Wackernagel of religious poetry prior to the Reformation, contains nearly 1500 pieces, and the names of 85 different poets, while many of the poems are anonymous, and much no doubt has perished. Among the names still left a large number are secular, others are those of monks and priests, and the vanity of the world forms not unnaturally their frequent theme. Here is a graceful little poem of this kind by a monk of the thirteenth century, entitled __________________________________________________________________ THE BEAUTY OF THIS WORLD. Diu rose ist die schoeneste under alle O Rose! of the flowers, I ween, thou art fairest, But thorny and worthless the stem that thou bearest, Fleeting thy beauty, unlovely thy fruit; World, I would liken thee unto the roses, Sweet are thy flatteries, sad are their closes, Virtue and goodness in thee have no root. Red is the berry, O Rose! on thy bushes, Harsh is its inside, though fairly it blushes; So, World, dost thou lure us and mock us with lies: Outside thy seeming is gracious and sunny, Outside thy greetings are sweet as the honey, Bitter thy kernel;--O man, then be wise! __________________________________________________________________ But in the list we also find the greatest of the knightly Minne-singers, Hartmann von der Aue, Reinmar von Hagenau, Gottfried von Strasburg, Wolfram von Eschenbach, and the noble singer Walther von der Vogelweide. Hartmann "of the Meadow," as he calls himself has left us several crusaders' songs, and among them the following:-- CRUSADER'S HYMN. Min froeede wart nie sorgelos My joy was ne'er unmixed with care Until the day I took this sign that now I bear, Christ's flower of May: It tells us of a summer-time, That will not wither, A lovely, eye-delighting clime: God bring us thither! Up to the numerous choirs, From which to deepest fires, His falsehood hurled the Prince of Ill; But to the good stand open still. For so the world with me hath dealt, My mind no more Longs for her gifts; what once I felt, Thank God, is o'er! God hath been very good to me O'er many another, Since He from cares hath set me free That choke and smother Love in the heart, and bind to home The foot that fain afar would roam; While I exultant onward fare, The triumphs of Christ's hosts to share. __________________________________________________________________ Another crusading song, which was very widely used on pilgrimages in these days, was sung to a melody which has been preserved to the present time, by its connexion with one of Luther's hymns; [7] it is this:-- PILGRIM'S SONG. In Gotes namen faren wir Now in the name of God we go, His grace be round us evermo; God's strength be with us every hour And fill us with His mighty power. Kyrie eleison. And may the Holy Cross be still Our shield from every ghostly ill, The Cross where Christ endured such woe; O thence shall all our gladness flow! Kyrie eleison. And also from the Holy Tomb, Where He Himself lay wrapped in gloom, With the five wounds He deigned to bear; Rejoicing, let us onward fare Toward thee, Jerusalem. Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison! O help us now, Thou Holy Ghost, O Thou most blessed Voice of God, To tread with joy the toilsome road Toward thee, Jerusalem! Kyrie eleison! __________________________________________________________________ [7] That on the Ten Commandments. __________________________________________________________________ Another crusader and Minne-singer of those days, Sir Reinmar of Hagenau, gives us a glimpse of the struggle that must have gone on in many minds between the love of pleasure and the self-control that befitted a soldier of the Cross, a struggle of which we may still use his own words, "full many another feels it too:--" UNRULY THOUGHTS. Des tages do ich daz kriuze nam E'er since the day this Cross was mine, I set a guard upon my thought, As well beseems the Holy Sign, And as a faithful pilgrim ought; To God I raise my thoughts by night and day, That from His service ne'er my foot may stray But they would have their will, and roam Unchecked as they were wont to do; Nor is this trouble mine alone, Full many another feels it too. All other things were lightly borne, If but my thoughts would keep true ways; The God whom I to serve have sworn They help me not enough to praise,-- Not as I ought, and for my soul were well. On the old stories they are fain to dwell, And lure me back to pleasures past That I was eager once to seek; Christ, Thou forbid them, turn them thence; For my own strength is all too weak. But I would not forbid them quite To seek by times their native land; Awhile I let them take their flight, Then want them swiftly here at hand; So there to greet our friends they oft are sent, Then back they come to help me to repent, To win forgiveness for us both, For sins that all my past beset Yet fear I their deceitfulness, Fear they may oft mislead me yet. Farewell then, Pleasure! well for him To whom thou comest harmlessly; Thou haunt'st me still in visions dim, Though of thy bondage I am free: The days, the nights, when once I shunned thee not, By many an effort have I now forgot, Closed are the paths that toward thee lead; Let no man point the way to thee Afresh,--I count him else a foe To my sworn service and to me. __________________________________________________________________ A little anonymous poem of the same date, the last verse of which appears, from the metre, to be incomplete, surprises us by what seems to us the modern tone of its tender and passionate LAMENT. O we des smerzen Alas for my sorrow! My heart is in pain; Where is hope for the morrow To whom now complain? O God, take compassion On me lying low, And comfort, O comfort me, Through Thine own woe. Keenly regretful, I call to my mind How we are forgetful, How He is so kind! Who gladly, yet painfully, Yielded His breath, Only to ransom us Ever from death. Where shall I find Him, Him dearest to me, Who let His foes bind Him That we might be free? __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ Walter von der Vogelweide But among all these singers, Walter von der Vogelweide (of the Birds' nests or the aviary) may be singled out as their highest type. He was the darling of his own times, and is constantly referred to by other poets as "their master in the lovely art of words and tones," "the sweetest of all nightingales," &c. It is not known what part of Germany was his birthplace, but he travelled all over it in the course of his life; he was a welcome guest at its courts, especially those of Thuringia and Austria, and he was a crusader. His poems give us the picture of a life such as we can well understand in these days, however different the circumstances may be,--a life full of travel, and of interest in questions of politics and religion, and even of literature. For the frequent reference to each other's works by these Minne-singers, with criticism or with praise, shows that those days too had their literary world. A large number of his poems are like those of the other Minne-singers, filled with praises of his lady, and of the May-time,--graceful, tender, often quaint and naive lyrics. So one begins:-- __________________________________________________________________ So die bluomen uz dem grase dringent "When the flowers out of the grass are springing, And seem to laugh at the glorious sun, On an early morning in May, And the little birds are all loudly singing Their very best, because summer's begun, 'Tis half heaven itself in the May." __________________________________________________________________ And again-- MAY MIRACLES. * * * * Muget in schowen waz dem meien Would ye see the lovely wonder Wrought us by the May? See how all are laughing yonder, Whether priest or lay. Mighty magic doth she hold, Whence it cometh who shall tell? But so far as reigns her spell, No one feeleth old. We are full of joy and springing, Welcoming the May With our dancing, laughing, singing: No sad dumps to-day! Heavy looks were now to blame; Since the birds in happy throngs Carol forth their sweetest songs, Let us do the same! Gentle May, thou showerest fairly Gifts afar and near; Clothest all the woods so rarely And the meadows here: O'er the heath new colours glow; Flowers and clover on the plain, Merry rivals, strive amain Which can fastest grow. Lady! part me from my sadness, Love me while 'tis May: Mine is but a borrowed gladness If thou frown alway; Look around and smile anew! All the world is glad and free; Let a little joy from thee Fall to my lot too! __________________________________________________________________ But others treat of higher and more serious themes, and show us a man deeply engaged in the political and religious life of his day. He was a warm lover of his country, but he does not hesitate to rebuke and satirize his countrymen, whether clergy or laity, for their faults and shortcomings. In the great struggle between the Pope and the Emperor, he is heart and soul on the national side, and writes such stern reproofs and bitter epigrams on the Head of the Church, as startle us from one of its sons. But he is an earnest Christian, sometimes lamenting his own sins with simple penitence, sometimes expressing a strong and manly faith. He preaches the Crusade, and so heartily that he refuses the meed of a poet's praises to the archangels themselves, if they come not to the succour of Christendom. We give first one of his famous patriotic songs, then three of his religious poems, and then a crusader's hymn. __________________________________________________________________ THE PRAISE OF GERMANY. Ir sult sprechen willekomen Ye should raise the cry of "Welcome To the bearer of tidings"--for I am he! All that ye have heard aforetime Was merely a wind;--now ask of me! But my guerdon must not fail; If ye make me now good cheer, I have that to say ye will love to hear; Look, what bid ye for my tale? I will tell to German ladies Such gentle tidings in this fair land, As on earth may none be sweeter;-- Nor great the guerdon I demand. Ah what could I from them require? They are too high for me, I trow; I am modest, nor ask them to bend so low, Fair greetings only I desire. I have seen full many a country, And sought out the best in every part, But if alien scene or customs Could ever like German please my heart, May evil hap that heart befall! I speak the truth, for of what avail To strive unfairly with words or in mail? German breeding surpasseth all. From the Elbe stream to the Rhine, And back to the far Hungarian ground, Dwell the best and sweetest women That I in all the world have found. If my skill be true and keen In noble breeding and beauty rare, Better the women are here, I swear, Than high dames I have elsewhere seen. German men are brave and modest, Like angels in truth their women seem; He who blames them is deluded, No otherwise of him I deem. Noble Virtue, constant Love, Let him come hither who seeks for these, They dwell in this land, with joy and ease: Long may I live there, no more to rove! __________________________________________________________________ A MORNING PRAYER. Mit saelden mueeze ich hiute uf steh In safety may I rise to-day; Lord God, defend Thou all my way, Where'er I go or ride throughout the land. O Christ, now suffer me to prove The mighty power of Thy dear love, And for Thy mother's sake guard me on every hand: As holy angels from on high Once guarded Thee when Thou didst lie, Thou ancient God, a babe of days, Before the ox and ass so meek and still; When Joseph ever good and true To Thee and them gave tendance due, With faithful care that still hath praise: So care Thou, Lord, for me, in me fulfil Thine own commands, and keep me in Thy ways. __________________________________________________________________ EQUALITY BEFORE GOD. Swer ane vorhte, herre Got Lord God, if one without due fear Repeat Thy ten commandments here, And break them then,--not true His love to Thee. So if one call Thee Father, yet His brethren own not, or forget, Sick is his heart, though sound his words may be. Thou madest us of self-same blood, We eat alike, and live by food; If one should find a heap of bones From which the worms have stripped the fleshly pall, How could he lord from servant tell, Though once he might have known them well? God sits above all earthly thrones, And feeds all living creatures great and small; Jews, Heathens, Christians, are His servants all. __________________________________________________________________ REPENTANCE. Vil wol gelobter Got wie selten ich dich prise How seldom praise I Thee, to whom all lauds belong! Yet since from Thee I hold both speech and song, How dare thy vassal do Thy rule such wrong? Alas! nor rightful works, nor proper love is mine To Thee, my Father, nor my fellows here, None yet to me as my own self was dear: Father and Son, one God, Thy Spirit in me shine! How shall I love him who hath wrought me ill? He who hath done me good must aye be dearer still. Forgive my sins, I yet towards this will set my will! __________________________________________________________________ IN THE HOLY LAND. Nu alrest leb ich mir werde. Now at last is life worth living, Since my sinful eyes behold This pure land, where One forgiving Wrought such mighty deeds of old! What I prayed for now I have, I behold the soil, the grave, Where God dwelt as Man, to save. Lovely Land, so rich in story, Far above all I have seen Dost thou bear the palm of glory; Ah what wonders here have been! That a Virgin bare a Child Lord of angels, yet so mild, Sounds it not a wonder wild? Here baptized was He most holy, Purity for us to win, Stooped to bondage sore and lowly, To set free the slaves of sin. But for Him were we forlorn, His sharp spear and crown of thorn; Heathen, dare ye Him to scorn? Ah how far His pity stretches, Tasting death in very deed, He the rich for us poor wretches, But to save us in our need! That He shrank not from such woe, Willingly could bend so low, Greater wonder could one know? Here the Son to hell descended From the grave wherein He lay, By the Father still attended And the Spirit, whom none may Sever from Him. They are One, Sole and glorious as the sun; So it was ere time begun. There He hath the devil vanquished, Whom no Kaiser e'er could quell, Freed those who in prison languished; Then sore griefs the Jews befell, He whom they had wrought such woes Broke their strictest watch, and rose Living Conqu'ror o'er His foes. Forty days this land beholds Him, Forty days, and then He went Where the Father's light enfolds Him, Whence His Spirit He hath sent,-- May He keep us in His grace! Holy is this land and place That hath seen God face to face! Here He told of that expected Day of terrors, long deferred, When the prayers, by men rejected, Of the widow shall be heard, And the oppressed shall find a friend, And the wise no arts defend; Chasten now, ere comes that end! Then that judge's righteous sentence No lament hath power to stay; Here, O here may be repentance, Wait not for the final day; Pledge nor hostage then avail, Thou must answer without fail, And thyself meet bliss or bale. But if what I now have spoken Seemeth not to you too long, List one moment yet, ere broken Fails the current of my song. All God's mightiest works for man Here in this fair land began, Here too ends the wondrous plan. Christians, Heathens, Jews assever Each that it is theirs of right; God alone, the bless'd for ever, Must decide it with His might. All the world is fighting here, Ours the rightful cause, no fear God will make its justice clear! __________________________________________________________________ The Minne-songs, which form a purely lyrical poetry, were soon followed by poems of the narrative and didactic class. Early in this same thirteenth century the Nibelungen-Lied received its present shape; and the old legends, some like this taken from the heathen times, others of purely Christian origin, became the favourite subjects of the poets. The stories of Tristram, Percival, and the quest of the Holy Grail--knightly romances and histories of saints that were half mystical and symbolical, half legendary--must have filled the imaginations of youths and ladies in those days as novels do in ours. Most of these stories were connected with that circle of legends of which King Arthur and his Round Table form the centre, and were thus derived from a foreign, generally from a French or Provenc,al source, but their treatment was entirely German. It soon betrays two opposite tendencies, one of which takes up the external side of these romances, that of love of adventure and worldly success; while the other brings into relief their religious element and the development of character, and anticipates in the latter respect somewhat of the characteristics of the modern novel. Of these schools the representative types are Gottfried von Strasburg and Wolfram von Eschenbach. The former chose for the subject of his longest poem the story of Tristram and Iseult, and makes it the vehicle of depicting the knightly life of his own times on its most stirring and fascinating side. The latter selects the quest of the Holy Grail by Sir Percival, and embodies in his poem those grave and high conceptions of knightly duty and religious faith, which characterise the more serious thought of his day. Wolfram von Eschenbach was a Bavarian by birth, of ancient and noble family, but being a younger son, he possessed but little worldly wealth, and seems to have led a wandering life, welcome as knight and poet alike at the German courts and castles. From the frequent allusions in his principal poem to the court of Thuringia, he no doubt formed one of the band of knights, poets, and adventurers, who gathered round the Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia, and made that little court at once brilliant and disturbed. Wolfram's lifetime coincided with the brightest period of the German Empire under the Hohenstauffens, for he was born under Frederick Barbarossa, and died under Frederick II. German chivalry was then at its highest point, and religious fervour was kindled to enthusiasm by the Crusades; thus it is but natural that these should form the moving springs of his romance. __________________________________________________________________ Sir Percival It opens with the history of Gamuret, the father of Percival, a younger son of the noble house of Anjou, a knight of the adventure-loving order, who can never enjoy life but in stirring action. He takes service at one time under the Caliph of Bagdad, and wins the hand of a Saracen princess. But he soon leaves her to seek new conflicts, and after his departure she bears him a son, who grows up a heathen, but a very brave and noble knight. At last in Spain he obtains, as victor in a tournament, the hand of the queen and a large territory, and for a time lives happily with his wife; but hearing that his former sovereign is in need of his services, he sets out for the East, and is slain by the way. The queen almost dies of grief for his death, but lives at last for the sake of her little son Percival. Fearing, however, lest he should inherit his father's spirit and meet with his father's fate, she retires with him into a deep forest, where she brings him up in perfect seclusion, and forbids the few faithful attendants who had followed her, ever to name chivalry or knighthood in his presence:-- But her precautions are unavailing. One day three shining knights come riding through the green forest. The boy thinks they must be gods, they are so bright, and kneels to them. They tell him they are knights, show him their weapons, and, when he wants to know how he may become like them, tell him to seek King Arthur's court. Now nothing can detain the boy, his mother finds her tears are useless, and gives permission for his departure; but hoping to drive him back to her through disgust with the world, she sends him forth in a fool's dress, bidding him to wear it for her sake, to honour old men, and to prize a woman's kiss and her ring. So he sets out, and meets with various adventures to which his simplicity and unknightly dress give a half-comic air; he makes his way, however, by dint of courage and straightforwardness, and comes at last to King Arthur's court. Here he undertakes a combat with a knight in red armour, Ither, and slays him; but though Arthur and Guinevere receive him kindly, touched by his beauty, his courage, and his simplicity, he finds himself an object of derision to the other knights and ladies, and makes his escape carrying with him the armour and horse of the Red Knight. After a while he reaches the castle of a grey-haired noble knight, and, remembering his mother's instructions to ask the counsel of old men, he goes up to the knight and requests from him shelter and advice. Here he remains for some time, and speedily becomes proficient in knightly exercises and demeanour, assisted partly by a flying fancy that he feels for his host's fair daughter, Liasse. But he knows that he has not yet earned the right to a lady's love, and moreover the longing for action is upon him, and so once more he departs:-- In time he meets with a most beautiful princess, Konduiramir, who is besieged by cruel foes; he rescues her, falls deeply in love with her, and is at last rewarded by her hand and crown, and lives for a time happily with her. The land flourishes under his wise and mild sway, and all seems going well, till he remembers how long it is since he has had news of his mother, and sets forth to find her once more. Riding alone beside a lake in the deep forest, he meets with the sick king, Amfortas, disguised as a fisherman, who directs him to a wondrous castle, Monsalvas, which is in truth the abode of the Sangreal, or as it is always called in this poem, "the Holy Grail." The Holy Grail was said to be a vessel of pure emerald, belonging to Joseph of Arimathaea, from which our Lord had partaken of the Last Passover, and which had received the blood that flowed from His wounded Side. Since then it was said to dwell in a certain palace, guarded and served by knights and ladies. Wherever it appeared it bestowed what was needed for earthly wants, and for the soul's salvation; but none could see it except by special grace, and none were admitted to its service except the pure and devoted. Sir Percival is now put to the test, by being permitted to behold the Holy Grail. He is admitted to the splendid castle, and treated with hospitality; he sees the sick King Amfortas, who is suffering acute anguish from a poisoned wound. The Holy Vessel is borne through the banqueting hall by its train of beautiful virgins, but Sir Percival remains unmoved; he asks not the meaning of what he sees, he asks not why Amfortas is suffering thus. So he goes to rest; when he wakes the next morning, the castle is still and deserted; in the courtyard he finds his horse ready saddled and bridled, but no one is to be seen. As he leaves the castle a groom calls after him from one of the towers, bidding him depart as hateful to the sun. Percival turns in anger, but the window is closed, and not a creature is visible. A little further he meets his cousin Sigima, who is mourning in the forest over the death of her lover, and the story of whose faithful love and grief forms a touching episode. She hears where he has been, and explains to him all he has witnessed, but when she finds that neither pity nor wonder had moved him to speak, she cries woe upon him and drives him from her. Percival rides on "with a thorn in his heart," but without clearly seeing what he has done wrong, nor does he for some time experience any ill effects from it. On the contrary, after various successful adventures, he reaches King Arthur's court, where he is received with acclamations; a splendid banquet is prepared in his honour, and Gawain, the King's nephew, shows him especial friendship. But in the midst of the banquet, when the festivity is at its height, his fate overtakes him. Kundria the sorceress, a terrible messenger from the Sangreal, rides into the hall, tells the knights that they and their Round Table are dishonoured by the fellowship of Percival, relates the story of his visit to Monsalvas, then tells them of another quest of the Castle Merveilleux, in which also honour is to be won, and disappears. She is followed by a strange knight, who accuses Gawain of wrong, and challenges him fiercely. All the knights rise from table, and gather round Gawain and Percival to console them. But Percival is inconsolable:-- * * * * * * * * He determines to start at once on the quest of the Holy Grail, and not to return until his honour is restored. Gawain undertakes the quest of the Castle Merveilleux, and so the two depart. From this point the story divides, sometimes following the fortunes of one, sometimes of the other hero. But the story of Gawain is not a mere episode: he represents the child of this world; brave, ready, untroubled by deeper thoughts, he meets with difficulties indeed, but with far more good luck and brilliant success than Percival, until the latter accomplishes his object at last. Percival, on the contrary, encounters life in a much more dreary and commonplace aspect; for five years he wanders on, never reconciled to God, taking no pleasure in anything, meeting with no brilliant adventures, but carrying in his heart an intense longing to behold once more the Holy Grail, repair his fault, and then to be reunited to his wife, whom he never forgets. At last he meets with a hermit, Trevizrent, a brother of Amfortas, to whom he tells all his sorrows, and whose instructions at last restore him to faith. Percival says:-- Trevizrent replies by making Percival see bow his conduct at Monsalvas proved him unworthy of the honour that had been done him in admitting him to the vision of the Holy Grail; how his youthful impetuosity had been the cause of his mother's death, who had expired of grief for his long absence; and how his love of strife had led him to kill the Red Knight, who was his own cousin, a man of great virtue and purity, and would have been his friend. Towards God his sin is defined as disloyalty, the forsaking his rightful allegiance on the touch of trial. Throughout the poem we find that man's highest duty is conceived as loyalty to the various relations in which he may be placed, whether towards God or man. Doubt, fickleness, inconstancy are the deepest stains on a knight. Trevizrent thus vindicates the justice of God in punishing him, and then goes on to speak of the help he may yet expect from Him:-- * * * * * * * * Percival now becomes reconciled to God; he remains fifteen days sharing the hermit's fare, and learning from him the true history of the Holy Grail, and the meaning of all he saw, and then once more sets out on his quest. In course of time he arrives at King Arthur's court, just at the moment when Gawain has returned from his successful expeditions, bringing with him the beautiful Duchess Orgueilleuse, who has consented to become his wife. Once she had attempted to lure Percival from his allegiance to Konduiramir, but in vain. Gawain has now invited the whole Round Table to witness his nuptials, and his combat with Gramoflanz. Early in the morning he rides out to try his powers, he meets with Percival, and, not recognising him, attacks him; they fight long. Just as Percival is about to win the victory an exclamation of the squire's betrays to him his opponent's name; he instantly flings away his sword, dismounts, and reproaches himself for having fought with his friend. The combat with Gramoflanz is postponed to the next day, to give Gawain time to recover. Percival however contrives at dawn to take it upon himself, in order to spare Gawain, and overthrows Gramoflanz. He gives him his life; Gawain and he are reconciled, and three marriages are arranged at once. Percival is restored to his place at the Round Table, and treated with the highest distinction. Many a lady would fain try to console the stately knight, who never smiles except in courtesy; but he cares for no one but Konduiramir, and all the happy love around him only quickens his longing after her. He lies awake till dawn, then But his time of trial is now nearly at an end. Not far from the camp he encounters his half-brother the heathen Feirefiss; they fight: Percival is almost overcome, but his strength is restored by prayer, and he is on the point of conquering, when his sword breaks in his hand. The relationship is now discovered; Percival returns to Arthur's camp with his brother, and in the midst of the rejoicings Kundria the sorceress appears once more to tell him that he is accepted as the monarch of the Holy Grail. He sets out for Monsalvas, heals Amfortas by the power of prayer, and then is suffered to meet with Konduiramir. * * * * * * * * They now all proceed to Monsalvas. Feirefiss receives baptism, which enables him to behold the Holy Grail; he marries the royal virgin who has hitherto borne it, and the two return to the far East to spread the true faith there. The younger of Percival's twin sons is sent back to the world to become the king of his temporal dominions, and Percival himself with Konduiramir and his elder son are left reigning at Monsalvas. Such is a slight sketch of the finest and most earnest of these early German romantic epics. The style is at times long-winded and prolix,--thus we have two pages full of all the remedies tried by Amfortas for his wounds,--but the poem is pervaded not only by a lofty tone of thought and feeling, but by much grace, tenderness, and imagination, with touches of humour, and half-sarcastic, half-courtly allusions to the life and the writings of his own times. "Each morn he bathes him in the stream; Of care or harm he does not dream; But when the birds' delicious song Held ear and heart in magic strong, His breast swells with a longing deep; The child runs to his mother's side; But when she asks, 'What makes thee weep?' He cannot tell and will not bide, As children wont at every tide. His mother, filled with wakeful care, Watches his footsteps everywhere, Till once, unseen, she sees her boy Lost in a dream of vaguest joy, Listening to that sweet song. Then she Swore the birds' enemy to be; She bade her squires to catch and kill All birds they found, the good and ill. But ah! the birds were craftier yet; They slipped away from bow and net, And sweeter still o'er copse and corn Rang their dear song at break of morn. The boy then asked her wherefore she To harmless birds was enemy,-- 'Dear mother, let these murders cease, And let us live with them at peace.' The mother kissed her lovely boy; 'How could I thus break God's command, Who made them but for purest joy!' Awhile the boy doth musing stand; 'Who is God? mother mine,' he saith. 'My child, receive my words in faith: God dwells above us bright as day; Mercy and love are His alway: Cry to Him in the hour of need; He loves to help, and that with speed. But there is one, His direst foe, Faithless and cruel; far below That Black one dwells in darkest night: Heed not his lures, nor fear his might, But even in thought from him, O flee From him and Doubt, O keep thee free.'" "In dress and manners now need he Ne'er blush in noblest company; Yet had his master's teachings stirred Thoughts that till then had slept unheard, That made his heart beat restlessly. Too small his world seems now to him, Too strait its bounds, its light too dim; A mist before his eyes seemed spread, No charm was in the verdant mead, In him and round him twilight grey;-- His ignorance had passed away." "There stunned and mute sits Percival,-- Ah, what avails the manhood now Of that brave heart, its chastity, Its lofty aims and ardent glow? He is disgraced before them all. Yet innocent and pure is he, No vice can in his life be found, Ne'er have his steps transgressed the bound Of modesty, the soul's true prize And fairest crown in noble eyes. "Gawain embraced the valiant man, And strives to cheer him as he can, 'O friend, thy journey well I know Will bring thee many a toil and woe: God give thee luck, and grant to me In time of need to succour thee.' But Percival cried, 'What is God? Would He have suffered such a load Of scorn to fall on thee and me Were He so good and great and free? The fountain of His might is dry. Him truly served my arm and heart, My recompense is this sore smart; Henceforth His service I resign, If He hath wrath, that wrath be mine. O friend, thou go'st to war and strife, Take for thy aid a faithful wife, A woman fair and chaste and good, Complete in tender womanhood; Be she thy guide, thy strength, and guard, Her love will be thy best reward.'" "Like to a dream my joy is fled, A weight of grief is on my head; Where church and minsters fairly rise, I ne'er am seen by mortal eyes; In strife and combat am I known, Yet hate I none but God alone; For He, revengeful, sends me scorn And sorrows scarcely to be borne. if God would give us help indeed, No anchor else my life would need, But jealous of my just renown, Fate all my deeds with thorns doth crown; And could God help it, could He right:-- Let men praise as they will His might;-- I cry aloud unjust is He Who leaves me bound by misery." "Eternally shall sound His praise Who showed to man such wealth of grace, His noble nature bowed to us And stooped to wear our likeness thus. God's name and nature is pure Truth, He hateth all disloyalty; Then think upon thy life with ruth, And let thy firm decision be Never from Him to turn aside, Who still is true whate'er betide. He is the Father far above, Whose essence is unfaltering Love; Yet love or wrath the world may choose; Ah woe! if thou that love refuse! But God is also radiant Light, Piercing the thickest walls with might; No secret impulse stirs the breast But stands before that eye confest; The swiftest thought He sees and tries Ere it from heart to lips can rise. If God so judge each thought that lurks Within thee, on thy own vain works How wilt thou dare to found a claim? Must thou not bend with inward shame Before that Perfect Purity, And ask His grace to succour thee? Thou hast thy choice, or love or wrath, But choose, oh choose, the better path; Changed be thy mind, then shalt thou prove That God can look on thee with love." "His eye dath on the armour rest That lies before him, and his breast Anew is filled with heavy sighs: 'If Fate for aye to me denies What on her favourites she bestows, The joy of happy love, whose power Can put to flight the sorest woes, Nought else I ask that she can shower. But God wills not such happiness! If we had loved each other less, The tie might break, and I might find Some solace elsewhere to my mind. But her love hath such hold on me, Who never from my griefs am free, No love or joy can in me dwell, My sickness is incurable. Fate loves to give in lavish measure To those who strive for earthly pleasure! God give sweet joy to all men here! But from their host I disappear.'" "So Percival rode all night through To meet that lady sweet and true; Till with the earliest blush of day A host of tents before him lay, Pitched on the dewy flowery sward, Bright banners floating all abroad. He finds the tent where sleeps the Queen Among her women, and between Her beauteous twins;--Ah, now at last His joy is come, his griefs are past! There on the bed of whitest snow Three lovely heads like roses glow, Lit by the morning beam they sleep, Smiling in slumber calm and deep. Till the Queen wakened, opes her eyes, Beholds him there with glad surprise, And springs to her great hero's breast, By joy itself o'ercome, opprest, With kisses covers all his face, And holds him in a close embrace. She cries: 'Thee now my God doth send, My heart's delight, my only joy; At last, at last there is an end Of mournful days and long annoy; I have my heart's most fervent prayer, And fled is every thought of care.'" "So I, Wolfram von Eschenbach, Following the Master whom I trust, Have told the story true and just Of the great deeds of Percival, His noble race, his children all; I leave him in that lofty place Where he was called by Heaven's high grace, And he whose life shall end like this, Whose soul no guilt or bitterness From God above hath power to part, Whose valiant arm and noble heart Earth's homage too of right obtain,-- I trow he hath not lived in vain." __________________________________________________________________ [5] More than two hundred are known to us still by name. __________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER IV. DARK TIMES AND BRIGHT TIMES. A.D.1253-1500 But as dark days came over Germany, after the fall of the Hohenstauffens, the bloom of her knightly poetry faded, and another style, chiefly didactic or mystical, but of much lower poetic merit, took its place. Perplexed and troubled indeed must have been many hearts in the trials that now fell on Germany. Frederick II., the last of the Hohenstauffens, a wise and brave prince, a patron of the large cities and of learning, and a successful crusader, died in 1250; and for twenty-three years Germany was without a settled head, until the choice of the princes devolved on Rudolph of Hapsburg. To a great extent every man did that which was right in his own eyes; and as there existed a numerous class of returned crusaders and unemployed soldiers, the smaller castles all over the country were soon transformed into robber-strongholds, whose inhabitants lived by levying a sort of black-mail on the merchants and peasants whom they despised. The great cities alone were able to protect themselves; they purchased or assumed their freedom from the lords who still asserted manorial rights over them, and leagued together to defend it, forming the Swabian league in the South and the Hanseatic in the North; and from this time onwards we find them sending deputies to the diet, and recognised as an independent portion of the empire. Rudolph of Hapsburg did his best to restore order, and destroyed, it is said, in Thuringia alone seventy of the robber-castles, whose ruins still add to the picturesqueness of that region of wooded hills and romantic glens. But the twenty years of his reign were but an interval of peace amid a succession of storms. During the first half of the fourteenth century the distractions of Germany reached their height. There were rival emperors at home, rival popes abroad, and bitter conflicts between the civil and ecclesiastical powers. On the 25th November, 1314, two emperors, Frederick of Austria and Louis of Bavaria, were crowned at once; and for eight years, until the battle of Muehldorff in 1322, a desolating warfare between their respective partisans was carried on all over the country. While the struggle lasted the Pope declined to pronounce decisively in favour of either candidate, but was supposed to lean to the side of Louis of Bavaria. When, however, Louis was left master of the field, the Pope refused to acknowledge him, unless he consented in the fullest terms, to hold the empire as a fief of the Holy See. To this Louis would not accede, and he was supported by the diet, who gave him their undivided vote, and at last declared that the unanimous choice of the country was the true source of the imperial dignity, and sufficed to bestow it without any consent of the Pope. The Pope now laid Germany under an interdict, which was not removed from some districts for twenty-six years. During an interdict all the ordinary ministrations of religion were suspended; no church was open, no bell was heard, no sacrament but those of baptism and extreme unction was administered. The Flagellants To these social and spiritual calamities were added, as is often the case in times of political convulsion, natural ones. Germany was visited with earthquakes, plagues of grasshoppers or locusts, and bad harvests, in the train of which came that fearful pestilence known as the Black Death, which swept over Europe in the middle of this century, and the full extent of which we are only now beginning to appreciate. It passed over Germany in 1348, bringing the usual accompaniments of such terrible visitations, in lawlessness, outbursts of despair, and some scattered examples of heroic devotion. It was no wonder that men's minds grew unsettled. Some believed that the last times had come, and that the end of the world was at hand. Some looked for a Messiah in the person of the "Priest-hater," Frederick II., who was to rise from the dead, do justice, humble the clergy, and lay down his crown on the Mount of Olives. Some thought only of averting the wrath of God in the present, and so that strange epidemic of religious frenzy sprang up, which brought into all the highroads and market-places of Europe the ghastly processions of the Flagellants and the White Hoods. Hundreds of either sex wandered in bands from town to town, half-naked, or clothed in white shirts spotted with blood. On reaching a town they proceeded to the church, and after a service, if they could have one, formed into a circle, in which they paced round in pairs singing their wild chant: "Now raise your hands to God, and cry That this great death may pass us by: Now raise your arms to God, and call That He have mercy on us all." They then adjured the crowd of spectators to imitate their penance, and finally, casting themselves on the ground, scourged each other till they were weary. On their way from town to town they sang hymns and sequences in German, exhorting the people to repentance; and it is certainly a fact that the use of hymns in the vernacular becomes much more common from this time onwards, no doubt partly from their being thus introduced into many parts hitherto unacquainted with them. The mode of life of these Flagellants, however, led in some cases to acts of license, which by degrees turned the popular feeling strongly against them, and so they vanish from our sight. The Mystics In such times as these it must have been difficult for men not to be either fanatics, like these poor Flagellants, or altogether indifferent to the religion which presented itself in such a shape as it wore then, when rival Popes disputed the Headship of Christendom, and the Papacy appeared as the enemy of civil authority and political liberty; while the bishops and most of the richer monastic clergy lived lives of self-indulgence and worldly ambition. But, like the remnant in old days that had not bowed the knee to Baal, so now there grew up in various parts of the country a set of men who formed themselves into no sect, but who kept alive the flame of love and faith and hope in many hearts where it had else died out. The names best known to us (though many others are still preserved) are those of Eckhardt and [25]Tauler, especially the latter, and in the next century the same tone of thought and piety meets us again in the works attributed to the more famous Thomas `a Kempis. __________________________________________________________________ Tauler Tauler was a Dominican monk of Strasburg, a man of the deepest piety, and of great courage and ability, whose sermons were the delight of Luther, and are full of instruction to us now. The Dominicans and Franciscans had for some time availed themselves of the privilege early granted to their order of celebrating mass during a time of interdict, and had thus earned themselves a high place in the popular favour; but after the open breach between the Emperor and the Pope in 1338, they too, in many instances, refused to say mass. Tauler was one of the few who steadily adhered to the national side; and, believing that the Pope himself had no right to deny the guidance and consolations of religion to the people, considered it his duty to disregard the interdict. Throughout this period, therefore, and especially when the Black Death was raging, he laboured assiduously, not only in Strasburg, but in all the great cities along the Rhine to Cologne; and being a mighty preacher, he was followed by grateful crowds, his sermons were taken down by listening friends, and with his letters widely circulated over Germany. Tauler and those who thought like him were called Mystics, because they spoke often of a mystical or hidden life of God in the soul, and the worthlessness of the creature and outward things. But though there is much in their phraseology and turn of thought which belongs to their age, and seems at fir