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Updated: May 5, 2025
In the foreground, beside the trail, a wolf-dog, bristling with frost, thrust a long snout heavenward and mourned. "Must I, then, must I, then, now leave this town And you, my love, stay here?" Schwabian Folk-song.
That Schwabian folk-song sounded strangely pathetic under the cold northern stars, and did not do the men good who lounged about the fire after the toil of the day. It put a dull ache into their hearts, and a yearning which was akin to belly-hunger, and sent their souls questing southward across the divides to the sun-lands. "For the love of God, Sigmund, shut up!" expostulated one of the men.
"It is All Saints' Day," said Christophe. "The day when all are forgiven." Softly, so as not to wake the child, he sang a few bars of the old Schwabian folk-song: "... Fur die Zeit, wo du g'liebt mi hast, Da dank' i dir schon, Und i wunsch', dass dir's anders wo Besser mag geh'n...."
Like the serene and subtle Schwabian, Hegel, who had waited until after Leipzig and Waterloo to assimilate the cause of his philosophy with the Prussian State their interests having changed, their principles had changed too. When they were defeated they said that Germany's ideal was humanity. Now that they had defeated others, they said that Germany was the ideal of humanity.
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