precious moment. I rejoice much that every one knows of my happiness, and that I can speak of it to everybody; and I do speak of wife and children as one who has suddenly grown rich and prattles of his thousands." - Vol. I. pp. 233, 234.

In these letters we find nothing but geniality, expressing always kindness of heart and consideration for others. We quote again from a playful correspondence on the subject of a portrait of Schleiermacher, which he had sent to his betrothed as a Christmas present:

"Your letter has come to me like a New Year's present. You have such joy, dear heart, over the picture, that I am sorry that I wrote you lately so jestingly about it. You plainly practise an idolatry toward it, sweet bride; but shall I not be glad of it? I allow myself, indeed, to be willingly pleased that the eye of love flatters me, and I can scarcely tell you how it has moved me. Yet I beg you earnestly, do not make of the picture such a picture of me that you cannot find again in me. My brow has perhaps something peculiar and characteristic in it, but handsome it is not indeed; and of my eyes the artist could say as little good as myself. You know how I always complain of their immovable, glassy nature. I believe that they are rather curtains for my soul than windows, and am vexed that so little can be read in them of what goes on in me. But you know there is a saying, and surely not a fabulous one, that if married people live together as they should, for a long time, they grow like each other. You shall see what you can make out of these bad eyes."- Vol. II. p. 202.

In answer, Henriette writes:

"How you do talk about the picture! Pray be reconciled to sending it to me. I have the dear face with all its canaillerie impressed upon me in many ways, and far more tenderly than the picture impresses me; but there is an influence especially peculiar in coming suddenly before a portrait. The silent presence, often so animating, so inspiring, so purifying, no, I thank you from my whole heart that you gave it to me. When I have you, perhaps indeed it may be no longer to me what it is now."

In our rendering of these letters we are obliged to rob them of the tenderness expressed in the German "Du," which scarcely finds its fit translation in the English "thou." The use of the term "thou" by the Friends even is rather a tribute to truthfulness, which will not make use of the plural

number when only a single person is to be addressed, than the sentiment which singles out the one dearest person from the many. In this respect the English use of language is defective, and in translation we succeed only in giving a formal tone, rather than an endearing one, in an effort to use the more intimate "thou" of a foreign language.

The letters after Schleiermacher's marriage grow naturally less frequent.

"These intimate correspondences naturally fall into an earlier period of Schleiermacher's life, but cease after he established a home and found simultaneously a circle of duties which demanded all his powers and activity, in a way which scarcely allowed him time to carry on an intercourse by writing with his friends, as he had done before, and which was a necessity for him. This necessity, indeed, existed no longer, since he was no longer impelled to seek at a distance what he now found at hand, and in his own family." - Preface, p. vi.

The doors of the home-life thus close upon us, and we miss exceedingly the warm pictures which these intimate letters have given us. We have afterwards pleasant glimpses of it in the family correspondence during little absences from home. Among these are interesting letters from Schleiermacher after he was established in the professor's chair at Berlin, when Berlin was threatened with an invasion from the French army, in 1813. He had sent his family into Silesia.

In an earlier letter, in 1806, he had thus expressed himself to a friend:

"I am sure that Germany, the flower of Europe, will fashion itself again in beauteous form; but when, and whether only after far harder afflictions, and after a long time of heavy oppression, God knows. I should fear nothing, meanwhile, more than a shameful peace, which will leave behind an appearance, but only an appearance, of national existence and freedom. But even upon this I am at rest; for if the nation consents to be pleased with this, it is only not yet ripe for improvement, and those heavier chastisements beneath which it shall ripen will not then long remain behind. It is thus, dear friend, that I am wholly at rest as regards personality, the lesser need, and nationality, the greater need, however discouragingly both appear; but what lies between, the manner in which the individual can influence the whole in all scientific and ecclesiastical organizations, it is this that fills me with care."- Vol. II. p. 77.

The letters of his wife are written in a charming and lively style. In one of his absences, Schleiermacher thus regrets that he has not her power of description:

"Pardon me that I write you all this, but I would like, since you are not here, to make it all real to you; but I know that it is not my strong point; and it would be better that you should travel, and that I should stay at home."

An extract from one of these letters of his wife, written from the sea-shore, where she had gone with some of the children for their health, will give some little idea of their family circle:

"Since I have written you, we have been very dissipated here. The W.'s, H. and daughters, visited us one beautiful afternoon. They were very cordial; we made ourselves as hospitable as we could. With them came Carl Kathen on horseback; this youth, beloved of great and small, raised a great jubilee. He had before promised to visit us. The children tore him to pieces with joy; a bed had to be made for him in the miller's parlor. Saturday he persuaded us into a journey to Stubben Kammer; we went in the divinest of weather, and were thoroughly delighted. We found there company enough; we did not allow ourselves to be disturbed by it, but under the green trees had our potatoes and chocolate, which I had taken with us, and did not trouble ourselves with anybody. But a thunder-storm, with a violent shower of rain,. troubled itself about us; we were forced to leave our green seat. The delicate ones of the party sought the building, the stronger stayed at the door of the house; so we were confined to one place from four till six, while it rained incessantly. Then it cleared up, and we set out to return. But alas! our joy was short; the rain soon came again so vehemently that our cloaks could no longer hold out against it. Fearing we should all take cold, I consented to take a roundabout way to Sagard, partly, too, on account of the bad road through the woods, which after the rain was neck-breaking. The rain ceased, and we had a wonderful sight the sun came out shortly before setting, and through the vapor spread such a wonderful light, such enamelled coloring, as I never remember to have seen. I was heavy at heart on Gertrude's account, as to how she would stand it. Indeed, we were all the next day out of trim bodily, Gertrude a little paler than usual. Ah! mein Alter, you can imagine how much harder such hours are for me here, than in our quiet life, where we are secure in the neighborhood of a physician and available remedies. But God has held his hand kindly over

us. By the second day, all had passed over, and Gertrude was again as before...

"You see that we do not escape here without our share of dissipation. Of work little is done, even in the days when we are quiet at home; lessons are not to be thought of, on account of want of time and place. I wake and rise about seven. The children are very tired, and I have trouble to get them up. After breakfast we read a chapter in the Bible, and some songs of Albertini's, then we sit together and work till ten. During this time there is often something to be done about the house. Then I go down to the bathing-place and play bath-woman. I help one after the other in and out. When I am through with all, I send them all away, that they may take a brisk walk and get warm, keeping Lina only with me. I rest myself as much as is necessary, and then step myself into the blue tide, which I can assure you is far more delightful in idea than reality. By this time it is noon. After dinner we indulge in a little rest, drink coffee, work, and read aloud, then before sunset comes walking and supper; and afterwards putting the little ones to bed. By this time it is nine o'clock, and we elders sit up till ten, wandering out in the close darkness or by moonlight through a tolerably long footpath to the village, by our dear mill, then back to 'Ruhheim.' To-night I have sent M. to bed before me. That she may not be too unhappy when I come to disturb her, I break off now, and say good night to you, my dear, true husband, - truest and best, God's blessing to me." pp. 364-366.

We would gladly give more of these happy home-letters, but must close with a few selections from other letters, mostly those to Henriette Herz, or Eleanore Grunow; which may be regarded as characteristic, as he writes to his sister: "I can more easily attach myself to women than to men, since there is so much in my disposition that the latter rarely understand.”

"I always believe that it is the duty of the body to suffer with the soul, and that the body which has not this power denies the soul its services in other cases when it ought not to be suffering, but active."

"Since not one man is like another, and no two human beings like two others, so their product, marriage, must be always different. In arithmetic, it does very well to say 'three times eight makes the same as four times six,' but in the spiritual world it is not so."

"I hope we shall be able to bring about sleeping bodily while we are awake spiritually. That will be a good time!"

VOL. LXXII. - 5TH S. VOL. X. NO. I.

11

"Let us always seek quality in time; that is the best anticipation we can have of its quantity."

"Winter; — the interlude between the last generation of this year's roses and the first of next year's."

"Indeed, women are in this more fortunate than we are; their affairs are satisfied with a part of their thought, and the longing of the heart, the inner beautiful life of fancy, rules always the greater part. When I, on the contrary, go to my work, I must regularly take leave of my beloveds, as the father of the house whose business is outside the house, and if meanwhile a thought of them passes consciously through my soul, I can only nod at it kindly, as the father to his children playing round him, with whom he cannot have intercourse. It seems so to me, from which I see, that the nature of women appears the nobler and their life happier; and, when I play with an impossible wish, it is this, to be a woman."

“It is pitiable, when a book is understood only with the understanding; and usually nothing more is expected of either reader or book. But whoever possesses a great understanding along with fancy, he can easily learn all lesser things, or do without them, as he pleases. In this women are strong, because so much rest is allowed them; and if any amends is given them for not permitting them a position with regard to exact sciences and civil society, it is in this relation that civil society suppresses the fancy, and the less exactly they know, the more significantly does it appear how they might know everything."

"As to my riches, my dearly loved Jette, you are completely right. But believe I keep a close account of them. Do you think that I do not feel it all, and that it does not make me happy? No; I am not so base as that; and I often say to myself, there can be few happier men than I. But cannot even the richest man have a moment of want when he has put everything out at interest? See now, this is just my case; I have no money at hand, and all the percents I might offer would not help at all. No one can help me but you, because you send me regular remittances. Your letters help not only my being, but also my doing; indeed, it is they alone to which I cling, and without which all the feeling of my riches can help in no way my doing and my labors."

"The closest friendship does and must allow of the closest friendship, and its fairest privilege lies in this, that the friend loves his friend with his faults, while others often love him only because they do not see them."

"Yesterday P. was here; he is to preach next week before the king.