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I received a translation of 'Iphigenia' by Gottsched, and Quintus read it to me. I had the French with me, and I did not understand a word. He also brought me a poem by Pietsh, but I threw it aside." "I threw it aside, also," said Gellert, smiling. The king smiled pleasantly. "Should I remain here, you must come often and bring your fables to read to me." Gellert's brow clouded slightly.
You will be a conqueror, and will cultivate and polish barbarians!" Gottsched did not perceive the mockery which lay in these words of the king, but received them smilingly as agreeable flattery. "The German language is well fitted to express tender emotions. I pledge myself to translate any French poem faithfully, and at the same time melodiously," said he.
He had written thus far out of the fervor of his soul, and theory of any sort had touched him but little. From Rousseauite literature he had caught a fantastic conception of 'nature', and this had led him to portray men and women who were scarcely more natural than those of Gottsched himself.
I only know the history of the German States written by Pere Barre." "He has written a German history as well as a foreigner could write it," said Gottsched. "For this purpose he made use of a Latin work, written by Struve, in Jena. He translated this book nothing more. Had Barre understood German, his history would have been better; he would have had surer sources of information at his command."
"Bring me first the scholar and philologist," said the king, laughing. "Perhaps the man has already discovered in this barbarous Dutch tongue a few soft notes and turns, and if so, I am curious to hear them. Go, then, and bring me Professor Gottsched. I have often heard of him, and I know that Voltaire dedicated an ode to him.
The conversation was carried on with more vivacity when they spoke of poetry and history, and the king entered upon this theme with warm interest. "In the history of Germany, I believe there is still much concealed," said Frederick; "I am convinced that many important documents are yet hidden away in the cloisters." Gottsched looked up at him proudly.
The latter was succeeded by a Swiss school, which imitated the witty and liberal-minded criticisms of Addison and other English writers, and opposed French taste and Gottsched. At its head stood Bodmer and Breitinger, who recommended nature as a guide, and instead of the study of French literature, that of the ancient classics and of English authors.
The king was about to reply, when a servant entered and gave him a letter from the professor, Gottsched. "I find, Quintus," said the king, "that my brother in Apollo does me the honor to treat me with confidence. If I was at all disposed to be arrogant, I might finally imagine myself to be his equal. Let us see with what sort of dedication the Cygne des Saxons has honored us."
"Be pleased to remark," said the king, with assumed solemnity, "that Gottsched announces himself as the Pindar of Germany, and he will have the goodness to commend me in his rhymes to after-centuries. And now, tell me, Quintus, if this is German poetry? Is your innermost soul inspired by these exalted lines?"
While the quasi-poetry of Livius proceeded, somewhat like that of Gottsched in Germany, from purely external impulses and moved wholly in the leading-strings of the Greeks, his successor emancipated Roman poetry, and with the true divining-rod of the poet struck those springs out of which alone in Italy a native poetry could well up national history and comedy.
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