become:

Dark, dim, distant, dusky, far, misty, silent are epithets that continually occur in Ossian, over whose distant groves of oaks pours the mist in which ghosts hover. The last three lines quoted certainly present a much more Ossianic picture as they now stand than they did in the original version.

In the ode “Hermann” (1767), three bards are introduced lamenting the death of Arminius. An Ossianic chord is struck at the very beginning, when Werdomar, the chief of the bards, sings, ll. 1–2:

The peculiar expression “Steine der alternden Moose” reminds us of the moss of years that covers most of Ossian’s stones.[92] Other slight reminders of Ossianic description occur throughout the ode.

The bards in Ossian occasionally exercise the power of looking into the mirror of the future. So in the ode “Weissagung” (1773), the poet seizes the Telyn and prophesies; likewise in the ode “Die Rosstrappe” (1771);[93] in both, however, the sacred white horses mentioned by Tacitus, but not found in Ossian, play a part.

A frequent device that we find in Klopstock, especially at the height of his enthusiasm for Ossian, is the conjuring up of the spirits of the departed. Doubtless the songs of Ossian, in which the ghosts of the fallen play such an important rôle, inspired Klopstock with a fondness for this device. We must hold Ossian accountable, for example, when in the ode “Thuiskon” (1764) the hoary ancestor of the German people is made to appear in the grove of the modern German bards. Similarly an old bard is conjured up in the ode “Der Hügel, und der Hain” (1767); in the ode “Rothschilds Gräber” (1766) the souls of the departed appear to the poet, and spirits that hover around Braga or the goddess of the German language occur frequently in the odes of the period that coincides with Klopstock’s most intense interest in Ossian.[94]

The influence of Ossian is particularly manifest in the first of the odes mentioned in the previous paragraph, in “Thuiskon.” We have but to read the ode and for comparison the “Address to the Evening Star” and the “Apostrophe to Fingal and his Times” in “The Songs of Selma,”[95] to notice the resemblance. The time of the ghosts’ appearance in both is at the rising of the evening star, which in “Thuiskon” sends down “entwölkte Schimmer,” while in Ossian it “lifts its head from its clouds.” Compare also ll. 5–6:

with “Fingal comes like a watery column of mist.”[96]

Another ode of the same year, “Die frühen Gräber” (1764), shows undoubted traces of Ossian’s influence. The entire Stimmung is Ossianic and Ossianic touches are not wanting, as when the poet says, ll. 9–10:

The poems of Ossian teem with laments for the departed, whose graves are marked by stones, grown over with moss. The danger of referring everything in Klopstock that savors of the Gaelic bard to Ossian has been pointed out, yet Ossian undoubtedly accentuated and brought into stronger relief much that already existed.

Klopstock’s characterization of the songs of the bards given in ll. 33–40 and 77–84 of the ode “Der Hügel, und der Hain” is based largely upon his knowledge of the poems of Ossian which were supposedly further removed from the limitations of art and closer to nature than the poems of the Greeks.

The description of natural scenery and the comparison at the beginning of the ode “Aganippe und Phiala” (1764) reminds us strongly of Ossian, who was very fond of permitting several as’s and so’s to follow one another in his comparisons, a trick that was widely copied later in the imitations of Ossian and carried to excess.

Compare, e. g., “Fingal,” Book i, p. 221, ll. 4–10:

Ossian is full of long comparisons, with several dependent clauses,[97] and loves to heap up adjectives. Although the comparison of song to a stream frequently occurs in Ossian, we have seen[98] that it would be unsafe to attribute Klopstock’s use of the comparison to Ossian, in fact, we find comparisons of the voice to a storm pouring down from the hills in the early books of the Messiah, and of course in classical poetry.

Another example of the nature of Ossian’s influence upon Klopstock, its power to strengthen existing conceptions, is offered by his use of the oak in comparisons. Köster[99] remarks, that Klopstock’s numerous comparisons to the oak are all found in his later dramas, none in the Messiah. The oak, which Klopstock was so fond of regarding as the national tree—die deutsche Eiche—was as much at home in the highlands of Scotland as in the primeval forests of Germany, and according to Ossian occupied just as high a place in the minds of the Caledonians as in those of the Germani. The grove of oaks, the Hain, came to bear the same relation to bardic poetry that Helicon, the Hügel, bore to Greek poetry. It must have pleased Klopstock to find these groves of oaks so frequently mentioned in Ossian, in “The Songs of Selma,” e. g.,[100] and without a doubt Ossian’s numerous comparisons to the oak had an influence upon Klopstock. In the Hermannsschlacht, Sc. 6, e. g., he says: “... so stürzt’ er in sein Blut, wie die junge, schlanke Eiche der Donnersturm bricht.” Compare “Temora,” Bk. iii, p. 328, ll. 25–6: “Like a young oak falls Tur–lathon;” “Carthon,” p. 163, l. 20: “There he lies, a goodly oak, which sudden blasts overturned!” etc., etc.

Klopstock borrowed a name from Ossian and employed it freely in his odes, Selma, the name of the royal residence[101] of Fingal. He grew quite fond of the euphonious name, used it to apply to a girl, coined a corresponding masculine form Selmar, and out of the two made a pair of ideal lovers. Vetterlein[102] many years ago suggested that the names might have been taken from Selim and Selima, names given by Prevod to a pair of tender lovers in the Memoires d’un homme de qualité;[103] but no one of the present day would subscribe to that opinion. Had he kept the name of the maid in “The Songs of Selma,” Colma, he would have been induced to call her lover, whose real name is Salgar, Colmar, and that would have led to confusion with the Ossianic hero of that name. The ode “Selmar und Selma,” written in 1748, was originally entitled “Daphnis und Daphne.” About the same time that the change of names took place, another ode was written with the title “Selma und Selmar” (1766), in which the lovers promise that the first to die will appear to the other. This is a fancy that we frequently meet in the latter half of the 18th century, and it found nourishment in Ossian. The name Selma occurs furthermore in the ode “Die Erscheinung” (1777), and Selma and Selmar are the two ideal lovers in the ode “Das Bündniss,” as late as 1789. The combination grew to be quite a popular one, and so we find “Elegien von Selma und Selmar” in Kosegarten’s Thränen und Wonnen (Stralsund, 1778), a poem “Selmar und Selma” by Friedrich Stolberg[104] that shows the influence of Ossian, another Ossianic poem of the same title dedicated to Christian Stolberg,[105] and many more. The popularity of the name Selma was still further increased by the translation of “The Songs of Selma” that appeared in Werthers Leiden.

The Hermannsschlacht and the larger part of Hermann und die Fürsten were written at the height of Klopstock’s enthusiasm for Ossian and we shall not search in vain for signs of the bard’s influence in these dramas, particularly in the former. One of the most important and striking constituents of these dramas are the songs of the bards, interspersed throughout, which are thoroughly Ossianic in tone and spirit. Klopstock’s bards, like those of Ossian, encourage the warriors to battle, proclaim the fame of the mighty; they tell of the deeds of the past, and when they sing: “Höret Thaten der vorigen Zeit,” we recall Ossian’s “tales of the times of old,” or his “deeds of other times.” The three choruses in Sc. 3 of the Hermannsschlacht beginning with this exhortation are all decidedly Ossianic, e. g.:

Compare Messiah, xx, ll. 495–9:

Ossian has numerous comparisons to wind and storm, breeze and blast and gale, in much the same tone, for instance the following, “Berrathon,” p. 379, ll. 1–3: “As the noise of an aged grove beneath the roaring wind, when a thousand ghosts break the trees by night.” After the bards have finished in the second scene, first edition, Siegmar exclaims: “Das war gut, Barden, dass Ihr von den Thaten unsrer Väter sangt!” Compare: “... sing nun dem Heere von den Thaten seiner Väter.” “Lathmon,” p. 272, ll. 7–8: “Their words were of the deeds of their fathers,” etc.

When the bards in Sc. 2 sing:

we are reminded of the car of Cuthullin in the first book of “Fingal” and of Ossian’s roaring streams that pour down the hills. Compare Hermann und die Fürsten, Sc. 1:

To liken a host of warriors unto a ‘gathered cloud’ or a ‘ridge of mist’ is a favorite device of Ossian, and similarly in Sc. 2 of the Hermannsschlacht,[108] two choruses sing:

And in the third scene a bard remarks: “Sie ziehn sich, wie ein dicker Nebel, langsam in den Vorderbusch.” And when the bards sing in the second scene:

or in the first edition:

we can point to Ossian’s shouts that are “louder than a storm” or like “thunder on distant hills.”

“Die Flamme des gerechten Zorns,” Hermannsschlacht, chorus, Sc. 3, calls up Ossian’s ‘flame of wrath,’ but undoubtedly the Bible is the source of both.

In Sc. 6 we have the following lines:

Similarly in Ossian the ghosts of the fathers that float on clouds look down upon the warriors.

In Sc. 11 two choruses sing:

and so “Carric–Thura,” p. 151, l. 27, “That shield like the full–orbed moon,” etc., and echoing shields without number.

One striking feature of the Highland scenery according to Ossian is the fact that everything—forest and heath, bay and stream, grove and vale, hill and isle, rocks and fields and banks and walls and numerous other things—is very susceptible to the echo, “the son of the rock,” and the fondness that Klopstock and the bards begin to exhibit for the echo about this time must be traced back largely to Ossian. In addition to the passage just quoted, we have in Sc. 2, e. g., “Wir haben ... den Gesang in den Felsen des Wiederhalls gehört,” “Lasst die Namen ... in allen Felsen des Wiederhalls laut tönen,” etc. In the same scene the bards sing:

In Sc. 11: “Wiederhalls Kluft,” etc.

A few words as to the poet’s attitude towards Ossian in his old age may complete our consideration of Klopstock. As he grew older, and other affairs, above all else the French Revolution, began to engross his attention, Ossian gradually lost interest for him, although he was never entirely forgotten. As late as 1797, Klopstock writes to Böttiger under date of November 9:[109] “Wissen Sie schon etwas von der Ausgabe von Ossians Gesängen, die jetzt in England in seiner Sprache gemacht wird? Ist die Übersezung getreu? Sind Anmerkungen über das Zeltische dabey?” Unfortunately he died before the long–heralded edition was finally published. When his enthusiastic admiration for Ossian subsided and took on a saner aspect, when his views on the subject of the relation of the Celts to the old German tribes assumed a more scientific character, he could not allow Ossian to occupy the position assigned to him at first. Although Klopstock’s fondness for the Celtic Homer diminished in the course of years, it nevertheless possessed a more lasting character than that of Goethe and of Schiller, to whom, as we shall see, it was merely a passing inspiration. Klopstock’s sober second thought revealed to him that he had occasionally gone too far in his blind adoration, and so we find that in later revisions of his works Ossianic reminiscences are occasionally expunged. The eulogistic verses that appeared in the first edition of the Gelehrtenrepublik (1774)[110] were omitted in the second; the ode “Teutone” (1773) gives the first fifty–two lines of “Unsre Sprache” (1767) almost literally, but substitutes sixteen new lines for the eight lines of encomium found in the latter.[111] In the first two Bardiete, the bards play an almost overwhelming rôle with their numerous songs, whereas in Hermanns Tod the bards appear in one scene only, the fifteenth. Then two passages appeared in the first edition of the Hermannsschlacht that were omitted or revised in the second, as e. g., the chorus beginning “Höret Thaten der vorigen Zeit!” in Sc. 2.—Late in life Klopstock in his correspondence with Böttiger occasionally refers to Ossian. One letter has been quoted from. Under date of January 6, 1798, he writes to Böttiger: “Hierbey Macd[onald] und einige Aufschr[iften]. Ich werde eher keinen bestimten Begriff von Ossian bekommen, als bis man mir (könte es nicht Macd. thun?) merklich verschiedene Stellen aus ihm völlig wörtlich übersezt. Sie sehen, dass ich nur Stellen meinen kan, die Oss. gewiss zugehören.”[112] If we read between the lines, we can see feelings of doubt and if we are to place entire confidence in a letter of Sir James Mackintosh to Malcolm Laing,[113] Klopstock at last lost his faith in the authenticity of the songs of Ossian altogether—a strange ending to his earlier unbounded enthusiasm. Sir James writes: “I consider your Ossian and Farmer’s ‘Essay’ on Shakspeare’s pretended learning as the two most complete demonstrations of literary positions that have ever been produced ... You know how bitterly old Klopstock complained of you for having dispelled his Ossianic illusions ...”

§2. The Bards.[114]—Gerstenberg.

The bardic poetry, the way for which had been prepared by Mallet’s influential work, the Introduction à l’histoire de Danemarc with its Supplément: Monumens de la Mythologie et de la Poësie des Celtes et particulièrement des Anciens Scandinaves, and which had received its impulse from Macpherson’s Ossian, aided by the mistaken acceptation of the barditus mentioned by Tacitus, soon gained other supporters, among whom the most prominent were Gerstenberg, Denis and Kretschmann. The various other representatives of the poetry, which, carried to an extreme, became ridiculous and was justly characterized as the Bardengebrüll or Bardengeschrei, were on the whole devoid of talent and scarcely call for serious treatment.

Much of what has been said with reference to Klopstock’s reception of Ossian applies also to the bards, only we see that the thing deteriorated into a fad through imitation. It began to take on the character of mere play; the poets styled themselves bards and gave themselves bardic names, e. g., Klopstock—Werdomar, Gerstenberg—Thorlaug, Denis—Sined,[115] Kretschmann—Rhingulph, Hartmann—Telynhard, Dusch—Ryno, Haschka—Cronnan, etc.[116]

Just as Klopstock had sacrificed the lyre for the telyn, so his followers. The harp of the bards replaced the Zionitic harp. The poet, or rather bard,[117] was no longer crowned with the laurel–wreath but with the leaf of the oak. To–day we smile at these vagaries, but these men were very earnest in their play. Kretschmann, and not Klopstock, is responsible for most of the nonsense. The most pleasing phase of the movement is its patriotic character, and we must give the bards credit for the earnestness with which they strove to inculcate a feeling for national unity. Then they praise virtue and maidenly modesty, a cheerful sign for that age.

If these bards had restricted themselves to singing the mighty deeds of the past, it would not have been so bad, but when Arminius and the old Germani had become exhausted, they came down to the present and endeavored to surround it with an air of antiquity. As a result bardic poetry became largely a matter of vers d’occasion. The unfavorable critics seized upon the aberrations and made a laughing–stock of the whole school, and so the few good illustrations had to suffer with the large majority of those whose poverty of conception and general inability have prevented their names from being handed down to posterity. Thus long before Ossian’s influence in Germany had ceased, bardic poetry was a thing of the past. Much of the machinery of Ossian’s bards was borrowed by the German bardic poets and even the druids were transferred to German soil. The old Norse mythology, which found such ready acceptance by Klopstock and Gerstenberg, is not so important in the poetry of Denis, Kretschmann, and the numerous minor bards. What the bards copied then from Ossian were the general paraphernalia, the characteristic motifs, the tone of the harp, the echoing grove, the ghosts of the departed,[118] and the like. The love for the dismal heath, the stormy sea, and other phases of Ossianic description of wild and forlorn nature, can not be said to predominate in the bardic poetry, although it is frequently noticeable, as e. g., in Maler Müller, who in his bardic poetry loses himself absolutely in the Ossianic descriptions of nature.[119] The importance of Ossian’s landscape painting lay in the circumstance that it acted upon the mood of the reader, and although the general tone of the nature depicted in Ossian does not change much, it was a marked advance to have a description of nature invested with some internal significance, to bring nature and the feelings into interaction with each other. Ossian again and again inserts a picture of nature at the opening of an episode and this device was frequently copied in the bardic poetry, with this only difference: in Macpherson the connection between the introductory description and the following action is evident, whereas in the bardic imitations it generally strikes the reader as something irrelevant. When Ossianic comparisons are introduced, as they frequently are, they usually bear the stamp of servile imitation, being cold and showing no trace of intense personal feeling. At the same time, however, an attempt is occasionally made to enter into the Stimmung of Ossian, reflected at first in mere imitation, but finally striking out for itself.[120] What the bards did not copy were his peculiar delineations of character, his management of the action,[121] although the noble qualities of Fingal and his heroes are transferred to the princes who are being extolled. All details will be left for the separate discussions to follow.

Heinrich Wilhelm Gerstenberg.

We have included Gerstenberg among the bards, but he was far from being a bard as we apply that term to Denis and Kretschmann. Denis wrote little poetry that was not in the bardic vein, whereas Gerstenberg moved in many spheres. Gerstenberg was not a prolific writer, yet three productions of his were quite influential in their day: The Briefe über Merkwürdigkeiten der Litteratur, the Gedicht eines Skalden, and Ugolino; and in all three the shades of Ossian are visible in one form or another. His early productions, including the Tändeleien, written in the Anacreontic manner, do not concern us here and we shall turn our attention at once to the Schleswigische Litteraturbriefe.[122] An account of the place that these letters occupy in the history of German literature, of their tendency and their influence, would lead us too far afield. We are interested here solely in the eighth letter and more particularly in the first portion of the letter which discusses the “Memoire eines Irrländers über die ossianischen Gedichte.”[123] Here for the first time in a German journal we meet with serious doubts as to the genuineness of the poems. Gerstenberg has occasionally been praised, and deservedly so, for having had the sagacity to see through the forgery at once; and he deserves particular credit also for having had the courage to stand by his convictions and to publish personal opinions that were almost certain to be received, if not with scorn, at least with indifference. It was no doubt Gerstenberg to whom Herder referred in his Briefwechsel über Ossian as one who so “obstinately doubted the truth and authenticity of the Scotch Ossian.” Gerstenberg realized that he stood almost alone in his opinion and he refers to the unanimity of the critics near the beginning of his letter. His doubts were not called forth by the “Mémoire,” but had presented themselves to him upon his first perusal of the songs. He says in the letter: “Dass entweder Hr. Macpherson seinen Text ausserordentlich verfälscht, oder auch das untergeschobne Werk einer neuern Hand allzu leichtgläubig für ein genuines angenommen hätte, glaubten wir gleich aus den mancherley Spuren des Modernen sowol, als aus den verschiednen kleinen hints, die der Dichter sich aus dem Homer x. gemerkt zu haben schien, wahrzunehmen.”[124] The more direct proofs he lacked at first were furnished by the author of the “Mémoire,” a synopsis of whose arguments he proceeds to give in a few lines, closing with the words: “... ich enthalte mich aber eines weitern Details, da Sie diess alles in der Urschrift selbst nicht ohne Vergnügen nachlesen werden.” It is unfortunate that Gerstenberg did not pursue the subject further; his views would no doubt have been exceedingly interesting and rather refreshing. He then passes over to the Reliques, which he stamps as more reliable than the songs of Ossian.

Der Skalde (1766).—The same year in which the first two collections of the Schleswigische Litteraturbriefe were published also marks the appearance of the Gedicht eines Skalden, or Der Skalde, as it was called later, one of the best poems written in the bardic manner, and one that exerted great influence upon the bardic poetry. Old Norse mythology was here introduced and combined with a few Ossianic touches. Knowing that Gerstenberg disbelieved in the authenticity of the poems, we should scarcely expect traces of their influence at this time. Der Skalde actually contains but few Ossianic reminiscences, particularly when compared with what we find in some of the poems of Denis. As Pfau has pointed out,[125] Gerstenberg no doubt derived from Ossian the idea of having the ghost of Thorlaug (Himintung) arise from his grave. There is nothing in old Norse mythology corresponding to the ghost–world of Ossian, and the only thing that distinguishes the appearance of Thorlaug’s ghost from that of one in Ossian is that Gerstenberg has breathed a Christian spirit into his resurrection, in contradistinction to the dismal and sometimes terrible apparitions of Ossian. We are reminded of Ossian’s ghosts when Gerstenberg sings:

(1. Canto.)

(2. Canto.)

Compare “Cath–Loda,” Duan iii, first four ll.[128] The tone is Ossianic in the third canto when Thorlaug sings:

‘Lonely’ and ‘forlorn’ are standing epithets of Ossian, and “Fingal,” Bk. iv, p. 252, last line, has: “My sighs shall be on Cromla’s wind;” etc., etc. Pfau[130] has suggested that Ossian may be responsible for the abrupt manner in which the strife between Thorlaug and his foe is commenced, for Ossian’s heroes are always ready to draw the sword. I think it very questionable that Ossian’s influence was at work here. Pfau, however, has correctly observed that the epithet ‘red’ as applied to the eye of Thorlaug’s foe (3. Canto) must be ascribed to Ossian:

Occasional scenic resemblances to Ossian are also found, e. g., in the second canto we have the “silent stone of the hills”[132] and:

Compare “Dar–Thula,” p. 281, ll. 23–4: “The blast came rustling in the tops of Seláma’s groves;” “Fingal,” Bk. i, p. 216, ll. 16–7: “murmuring rivulets;” “Temora,” Bk. iii, p. 326, l. 36–p. 327, l. 1: “On Crona ... there bursts a stream.... It swells in its ... course.... Then comes it white from the hill;” “Temora,” Bk. iv, p. 338, l. 33: “Streams leap down from the rocks,” etc. Ossianic in spirit is also the following description: (4. Canto.)

Iduna. Ariadne auf Naxos.—Gerstenberg very soon turned his attention completely away from the old Norse mythology and we have only one other poem written under its spell, Iduna, which also contains several traces of Ossian’s influence, e. g., the line: “So glitt ich auf Dünsten dahin!”[135] “Am Busen des Windes”[136] recalls Ossian’s “on the bosom of winds,”[137] as “Des Mädchens mit den weissen Armen”[138] suggests Ossian’s “white armed maidens.” The influence is visible also in occasional touches in the cantata Ariadne auf Naxos (1765), for example when Ariadne sings:

we involuntarily recall the secret tears of joy and the rising and swelling of the breasts of Ossian’s maidens, and when she speeds “wie ein Strahl vom Himmel seinen Armen zu”[140] we are reminded of Ossian’s frequent comparisons of a hero or heroine to a beam of the sky or from heaven, or to a stream of light, to a sun–beam or a moon–beam. The entire atmosphere of the cantata is really Ossianic: the maiden lamenting on a desert rock surrounded by the wild ocean:

What is more, the plot reminds us very much of a portion of “Berrathon,” as will be seen by a look at the argument of the latter.

A number of Gerstenberg’s shorter poems make use of the grove with its moss and the oak, the echo, the harp, and other bardic properties, without, however, acquiring the real bardic character. Ossian’s influence is here too inconsiderable to warrant a discussion of the poems in detail.

Ugolino.[142]—The influence that this drama, which was finished in 1767, exerted upon the Storm and Stress movement, its important bearing upon the popularization of Shakspere in Germany, and questions of a similar tenor cannot be entered into here, yet we cannot pass by the drama without pointing out at least some phases of Ossian’s influence, which, while not comparable in importance to that of Shakspere, is nevertheless not inconsiderable. The danger confronts us of attributing Shaksperian characteristics to Ossian. The bard’s influence is noticeable particularly in the figurative language, e. g., when Ugolino in the first act says: “Dass ich nicht in dem gerechten Zorne meiner Seele mich erheben ... konnte!”[143] Compare Ossian’s “rage of his soul,” “rise in wrath,” and the like. In the same act Anselmo says: “Dein Kommen ist mir erwünschter als der jugendliche Morgen,”[144] to which compare “Comala,” p. 139, l. 22: “bright as the coming forth of the morning.” Jacobs[145] suggests that Gerstenberg probably had his Ossian in mind when he had Francesco say in the first act: “Wenn er sich nur nicht ... herab stürzt, gleich dem erhabnen Vogel, der sich ins Steinthal wirft.”[146] Compare “Temora,” Bk. ii, p. 321, ll. 31–2: “Descending like the eagle of heaven, ... the son of Trenmor came;” Bk. viii, p. 369, ll. 11–2: “... the windy rocks, from which I spread my eagle–wings,” etc., etc. In the second act, Anselmo considers himself “flüchtiger als ein junges Reh,”[147] a comparison of which Ossian is exceedingly fond.[148] Gaddo and Anselmo shed regular Ossianic “tears of joy.” In the second act Anselmo refers to Francesco having ridden off “auf dem Rücken des Windes”;[149] compare “The War of Caros,” p. 193, l. 26: “The rustling winds have carried him far away;”[150] “Temora,” Bk. viii, p. 366, l. 21: “From this I shall mount the breeze.” Ossianic furthermore are Anselmo’s exclamations: “Lasst die Hörner tönen am hallenden Fels!”[151] and “o du mit der finstern Stirne!”[152] which call up Ossian’s ‘echoing rock’ and his ‘dark’ or ‘gloomy brow.’

When Gerstenberg has Ugolino say of his wife in the third act: “Kalt [ist] der Schnee ihrer Brust,”[153] and when he speaks of the “Seufzer ihres Busens,”[154] he was no doubt thinking of the snowy breasts of Ossian’s maidens and of the sighs of their bosoms. In the same act Francesco uses a comparison that is taken directly from Ossian:[155] “Du wirst fallen,” he says, “wie der Stamm einer Eiche, alle deine Äste um dich hergebreitet.”[156] Compare “Temora,”[157] Bk. iii, p. 328, ll. 25–6: “Like a young oak falls Tur–lathon, with his branches round him,” etc. In the last act Ugolino, speaking of the death of his son, says: “Wann ward dieser erste Ast vom Stamme gerissen?”[158] His opening monolog in the fourth act shows a decided Ossianic influence; e. g., “sein bleifarbigtes wässeriges Angesicht tobte vom Sturm seiner Seele; er wälzte seine ... Augen weit hervor,”[159] etc. In Ossian we have a “watery and dim face,” a “grey watery face,” and a soul “folded in a storm,” and as for rolling eyes, that is a property that no Ossianic warrior may be without, and one of the first that a Storm and Stress poet would be led to adopt. Further along in the monolog, Ugolino says: “Doch der grosse Morgen wird ja kommen! schrecklich, dunkelroth und schwül von Gewittern wird er ja kommen! In seinem schwarzen Strahle will ich erlöschen! In seiner gebärenden Wolke soll, wie Feuer vom Himmel, mein Geist über Pisa stehn!”[160] This picture is as Ossianic as it can be. The ghosts of Ossian sit upon their clouds; they ride on beams of fire, and are compared to meteors of fire or to a terrible light. Ossianic spirits appear again a little later in the act, when Francesco says of Anselmo: “... seine Geister scheinen sich zu sammeln,”[161] and in the last act, where we read of a “wandernden Geist,” which shall remain near the beloved ones.[162] And then Francesco: “Ah! deine Geister sind im Aufruhr! Sammle sie, geliebter theurer Anselmo.” All this, however, is only a weak foretaste of the great importance that the ghosts of Ossian assume in Gerstenberg’s later drama, in Minona, to the discussion of which I shall proceed after a short reference to Der Waldjüngling. The illustrations given are not intended to be exhaustive, but to give a general idea of the character of Ossianic traces as they are exhibited in the various works.

Der Waldjüngling.—As an appendix to his treatise on Ugolino, Jacobs published a fragment by Gerstenberg entitled Der Waldjüngling, which in spirit shows a combination of Rousseau’s doctrine of the return to nature plus the leaning towards Norse antiquity, towards the poetry of the bards. The combination is attempted by sketching the life of a primitive man, un homme sauvage, transferred to the woods of Scandinavia. The small portion of the drama that has been preserved to us was written probably in 1770.[163]

As it incorporates the bardic spirit in its very essence, we shall not search in vain for reminiscences of Ossian, which, as in Ugolino, are met with in large part in the epithets and images. The Scandinavian scenery partakes of the characteristics of the Scotch Highlands as pictured by Ossian. The names of the characters, Hvanar, Cindiskraka (cp. Ossian’s Craca), Svanhilde, Arnas, Flino, Heener, Mimur, have Celtic as well as Germanic elements, and these characters talk much like the characters of Ossian. Mimur, e. g., in l. 122 laments in the strain of Ossian: “Ich bin alt und schwach,” etc. In l. 9, Cindiskraka is addressed as “Du Bewohnerinn der Felshöhle mit dem krähschwarzen Haar,” to which compare Ossian’s “dweller of the rock,”[164] and hair “dark as the raven’s wing.”[165] Further along (l. 36) we have a flute “Die des armen Mädchens verschwiegenen Kummer einsam seufzt.” This is a typical line. Ossian’s maidens have a habit of sitting ‘alone,’ nursing their ‘silent grief,’ giving vent to their sorrow in ‘secret sighs.’—Mimur styles Hilde (l. 78) in true Ossianic language: “Der Ruhm der Hirtinnen auf dem Gebirg,” and invests the forest youth in ll. 114–5 with the characteristic attributes of the ideal heroes of Ossian, ‘terrible’ in battle, but in peace ‘generous and mild’:[166]