As a preface to the present work, which, perhaps, more than
another requires one, I adduce the letter of a friend, by which so
serious an undertaking was occasioned.
"We have now, my dear friend, collected the twelve parts of
your poetical works, and on reading them through, find much that is
known, much that is unknown; while much that had been forgotten is
revived by this collection. These twelve volumes, standing before
us, in uniform appearance, we cannot refrain from regarding as a
whole; and one would like to sketch therefrom some image of the
author and his talents. But it cannot be denied, considering the
vigour with which he began his literary career, and the length of
time which has since elapsed, that a dozen small volumes must
appear incommensurate. Nor can one forget that, with respect to the
detached pieces, they have mostly been called forth by special
occasions, and reflect particular external objects, as well as
distinct grades of inward culture; while it is equally clear, that
temporary moral and æsthetic maxims and convictions prevail in
them. As a whole, however, these productions remain without
connexion; nay, it is often difficult to believe that they emanate
from one and the same writer.
"Your friends, in the meantime, have not relinquished the
inquiry, and try, as they become more closely acquainted with your
mode of life and thought, to guess many a riddle, to solve many a
problem; indeed, with the assistance of an old liking, and a
connexion of many years? standing, they find a charm even in the
difficulties which present themselves. Yet a little assistance here
and there would not be unacceptable, and you cannot well refuse
this to our friendly entreaties.
"The first thing, then, we require, is that your poetical
works, arranged in the late edition according to some internal
relations, may be presented by you in chronological order, and that
the states of life and feeling which afforded the examples that
influenced you, and the theoretical principles by which you were
governed, may be imparted in some kind of connexion. Bestow this
labour for the gratification of a limited circle, and perhaps it
may give rise to something that will be entertaining and useful to
an extensive one. The author, to the most advanced period of his
life, should not relinquish the advantage of communicating, even at
a distance, with those whom affection binds to him; and if it is
not granted to everyone to step forth anew, at a certain age, with
surprising and powerful productions, yet just at that period of
life when knowledge is most perfect, and consciousness most
distinct, it must be a very agreeable and re-animating task to
treat former creations as new matter, and work them up into a kind
of Last Part, which may serve once more for the edification of
those who have been previously edified with and by the
artist."
This desire, so kindly expressed, immediately awakened within
me an inclination to comply with it; for, if in the early years of
life our passions lead us to follow our own course, and, in order
not to swerve from it, we impatiently repel the demands of others,
so, in bur later days, it becomes highly advantageous to us, should
any sympathy excite and determine us, cordially, to new activity. I
therefore instantly undertook the preparatory labour of separating
the poems of my twelve volumes, both great and small, and of
arranging them according to years. I strove to recall the times and
circumstances under which each had been produced. But the task soon
grew more difficult, as full explanatory notes and illustrations
were necessary to fill up the chasms between those which had
already been given to the world. For, in the first place, all on
which I had originally exercised myself were wanting, many that had
been begun and not finished were also wanting, and of many that
were finished even the external form had completely disappeared,
haring since been entirely reworked and cast into a different
shape. Besides, I had also to call to mind how I had laboured in
the sciences and other arts, and what, in such apparently foreign
departments, both individually and in conjunction with friends, I
had practised in silence, or had laid before the
public.
All this I wished to introduce by degrees for the
satisfaction of my well-wishers; but my efforts and reflections
always led me further on; since while I was anxious to comply with
that very considerate request, and laboured to set forth in
succession my internal emotions, external influences, and the steps
which, theoretically and practically, I had trod, I was carried out
of my narrow private sphere into the wide world. The images of a
hundred important men, who either directly or indirectly had
influenced me, presented themselves to my view; and even the
prodigious movements of the great political world, which had
operated most extensively upon me, as well as upon the whole mass
of my contemporaries, had to be particularly considered. For this
seems to be the main object of Biography, to exhibit the man in
relation to the features of his time; and to show to what extent
they have opposed or favoured his progress; what view of mankind
and the world he has formed from them, and how far he himself, if
an artist, poet, or author, may externally reflect them. But for
this is required what is scarcely attainable, namely, that the
individual should know himself and his age: himself, so far as he
has remained the same under all circumstances; his age, as that
which carries along with it, determines and fashions, both the
willing and the unwilling; so that one may venture to pronounce,
that any person born ten years earlier or later would have been
quite a different being, both as regards his own culture and his
influence on others.
In this manner, from such reflections and endeavours, from
such recollections and considerations,arose the present
delineation; and from this point of view, as to its origin, will it
be the best enjoyed and used, and most impartially estimated. For
anything further it may be needful to say, particularly with
respect to the half-poetical, half-historic mode of treatment, an
opportunity will, no doubt, frequently occur in the course of the
narrative.