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s^^' y
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^ 3
\
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
AND HERMAN GRIMM
BDITED BT
FBEDERICK WILLIAM HOLLS
BOSTON Ain> NEW TOBK
HOÜGHTOH, HIFFLIN AND COUPAITT
Ct< Biotin» V"**- CiniTniiii
Ralph Waldo Emerson
EMERSON-GRIMM
they may belong." Again/ ^^He has
the magic gift of making all things seem
animate. By a word, by a mere inter-
jection, he transports his reader to the
remotest times and lands ; the strangest
sights he makes familiar; he gives us a
sense of being at home with the mighty
shades of history."
The elegance, vigor, and sprightli-
ness of his style, as well as the thorough-
ness of his knowledge, and his almost
unerring insight and critical judgment,
have combined, even now, within two
years of his death, to give him an un-
questioned place among the classics of
the Grerman language.
The facts about his life are few and
simple. He was bom January 6, 1828,
as the son of Wilhelm Grimm, the
younger of the distinguished brothers
Grimm, whose fairy tales are household
words the world over. After studying
law, he devoted himself to literature,
married Gisela von Arnim, daughter of
1 Page 111.
4
EMERSON-GRIMM
Goethe's Bettina, and for years led the
life of an independent scholar, until
he was appointed, in 1872, Professor of
the History of Art at the University
of Berlin. He resigned this position in
1893, and thereafter lived quietly in
the fourth story apartment on the Mat-
thäikirchstrasse in Berlin, which for
many years was a famous meeting place
of the choicest spirits who resided in or
visited the Grerman capital.
It was in this modest but extremely
tasteful home that the writer was priv-
ileged to make the acquaintance of Her-
man Grimm, and to listen frequently to
his charming conversation, full of rem-
iniscence and Lebensweisheit^ during the
last years of his life; and it was on
Thursday, June 13, 1901, — just three
days before his entirely unexpected
death, — that the conversation turned
once again upon that feature of Grimm's
career which makes him so peculiarly
interesting to Americans, namely, his
part in the introduction and interpreta-
5
EMERSON-QRIMM
don of Ralph Waldo Emerson to the
German people.
In his essay on Emerson written in
1861, and included in his first series of
fifteen essays/ Grimm relates how he
first hecame acquainted with Emerson's
works as follows : —
'^ At the house of an American friend,
some years ago I found Part One of the
Essays of Emerson, accidentally lying
on the tahle. I looked into the hook
and read a page, and was really aston-
ished not to have understood anything,
although I felt considerahle confidence
in my knowledge of English. I asked
ahout the author. I was told that he
was the first writer of America, — very
clever (geistreich)^ hut sometimes some-
what crazy, and that quite frequently
he could not even explain his own sen-
tences. Moreover, that no one was so
highly regarded as a character and as
a prose writer. In hrief , the opinion
was so strong that I looked into the vol-
1 Fünfzehn Essays, Erste Folge, pa^^e 428.
6
EMERSON-GRIMM
tune again. Some sentences impressed
me as being so suggestive and enlight-
ening that I felt an impulse to take the
book along, and to examine it more care-
fully at home. I find that it is a great
thing if a book tempts us to such a de-
gree that we resolve, without compul-
sion, to look into it, — especially to-
day, when it is necessary, by reason of
a certain instinct of self-preservation,
to remain upon the defensive to the ut-
termost against both men and books, if
we are to preserve our time, our mood
(Stimmung), and our own thoughts. I
took Webster's Dictionary and began to
read. The build of the sentences seemed
to me very unusual; soon I discovered
the secret. There were real thoughts ;
there was a real language, — a true
man whom I had before me, — not a —
I need not enlarge upon the opposite,
— I bought the book. Since then I
have never ceased to read in Emerson's
Works, and every time that I take them
down anew, it seems to me that I am
EMERSON-GRIMM
reading them for the first time. . . .
I read the essay entitled Nature, and as
I continued, sentence after sentence, I
seemed to feel that I had met the sim-
plest and truest man, and that I was
listening to him as he was speaking to
me.
^'I did not ask whether he was clever
(geistreich), whether he had an object;
whether he wanted to prove this or that
thought by his sentences. I read one
page after another. It is possible that
it was all confusion, but it did not seem
so to me. I followed his thoughts, word
for word, — everything seemed to me
to be old and well known, as if I had
thought or foreboded it a thousand
times, and everything was new as if I
was learning it for the first time.
Whenever I had had the book in my
hands for a time, my sense of personal
independence revolted spontaneously.
It did not seem possible to me that I
had given myself captive in such a man-
ner. It seemed to me that I was de-
8
EMERSON-GRIMM
ceived and betrayed. I said to myself,
this man must be a man like all others,
must have their faults and doubtful vir-
tues, is probably vain, open to flattery,
and moody, — but when I read his sen-
tences again, the magic breeze seemed
to touch my heart anew ; the old worked-
out machinery {Getriebe) of the world
seemed to be freshened up, as though I
had never felt such pure air. I recent-
ly heard from an American who had
attended Emerson's lectures, that there
was nothing more impressive than to
hear this man talk. I believe it. No-
thing surpasses the voice of a man who
expresses from the depths of his soul
that which he considers to be true. . . .
It is necessary to live in the great world
in order to appreciate and understand
great characters. Emerson is connected
with the greatest men of his country,
— a country which has grand politics,
whereas we had none up to this day.
Thus, Goethe was connected in his time
with the choicest spirits of the nation,
9
EMERSON-GRIMM
— the men who had harmoniously lifted
themselyes to such a height that the en-
tire people recognized their supremacy.
We need not only a light to illuminate
a great circle as a lighthouse, but also
a tower from the top of which the light
itself becomes properly visible."
Of the only occasion when he met
Emerson, Grimm writes as follows : ^ —
^'In the spring of 1873, I saw him
in Florence. A tall spare figure, with
that innocent smile on his lips which be-
longs to children and to men of the
highest rank. His daughter Ellen, who
looked out for him, accompanied him.
Highest culture elevates man above the
mere national, and renders him per-
fectly simple. Emerson had unassum-
ing dignity of manner, — I seemed to
have Sol him from my youth."
These facts and views were re-told and
elaborated by Grimm in the most inter-
esting manner. In order to illustrate
^ Fünfzehn Essays, Dritte Folge, p. zxii.
See also Cabot's Life of Emerson, ü. p. 662.
10
EMERSON-GRIMM
his story he showed the writer nearly
all of Emerson's works in their first
editions, as sent to him by the author,
every one with a cordial inscription.
He then went on to say, almost care-
lessly: '^I had a few extremely inter-
esting letters from Emerson, and some
years ago, when I was looking through
my old papers, I collected them and
presented them to the Groethe-Schiller
Archives in Weimar where they now
are. I think however that they ought
to be published, and I wish you would
do me the favor of taking copies of them,
and of publishing them in America."
It is needless to say that this unexpect-
ed invitation was gladly accepted on the
spot, but it was suggested that Grimm's
own letters ought to be included in such
a publication, not only for the pur-
pose of throwing light on what Emer-
son might have written, but also for
their own intrinsic worth. To this Mr.
Grimm assented, and immediately sat
down to write out the necessary ere-
il
EMERSON-GRIMM
dentials for both Weimar and Con-
cord, and we parted with the promise
on the part of the guest to see him the
next week after returning from Wei-
mar. The following Monday morning
the writer called upon Geheimrath Dr.
Suphan in the beautiful Goethe-Schil-
ler Building at Weimar, and handed
him the letter of Herman Grimm, of
whom he was an intimate friend. As he
saw the handwriting his face changed
color, and he silently pointed to a
newspaper with a dispatch announcing
briefly that Herman Grimm had been
found dead in his bed on the morning
of the day before, — Sunday, June 16,
1901.
The letters of Emerson were soon
found, and permission to have them
copied was readily given. Among them
were found two letters to Gisela von
Arnim, afterwards the wife of Her-
man Grimm, which are a)so included in
this collection. Likewise Dr. Edward
Waldo Emerson has very courteously
12
EMERSON-GRIMM
searched the papers of his father, with
the result of finding the four letters
from Herman Grimm which are here
translated.
Grinmi's interest in America was
great, even apart from his admiration
for Emerson. He was a particular
friend of the most distinguished min-
isters and ambassadors of the United
States at Berlin, notably Greorge Ban-
croft and Andrew D. White. He took
great interest in the educational and in-
tellectual development of this country,
and he was especially impressed, as well
as pleased, by the American apprecia-
tion of Goethe, — a feeling which he
felt to be greater by far in this country
than among any other English-speaking
people. He was a vice president of the
Germanic Museum Association of Har-
vard University, and took great pride
and interest in its work.
On the occasion referred to above he
presented to the writer a copy of his
lectures on Groethe, with an inscription
13
EMERSON-GRIMM
which is doabtless the last word he ever
wrote about America as follows : —
Die Dichtungen und Gedanken Goe-
thes haben von Deutschland nach Ämer'
ica eine feste Brücke Über den Ocean
geschlagen.
[The poetry and thoughts of Groethe
have constructed a firm bridge across
the ocean from Grermany to America.]
Herman Gbimm.
Surely all friends and admirers of
Ralph Waldo Emerson may congratu-
late themselves that he found such a
fitting interpreter to a friendly and in-
tellectually kindred people.
14
GRIMM TO EMERSON
EMERSON-GRIMM
L OBDfM TO EMEBSON.
Bebxjk, J^priL 5, 1856.
Yebehbtek Hebb, — Die Abreise
Mr. Al. Thayer's giebt mir die Gele-
genheit ainige Worte an Sie richten zu
dürfen. Vor einem Jahre lernte ich
Ihre Schriften kennen, welche seit die-
ser Zeit immer wieder mit neuer Be-
wonderong von mir gelesen werden.
Überall glaube ich meine eigenen, ge-
heimsten Gedanken wieder zu finden,
die Worte sogar, in denen ich sie am
liebsten ausgedrückt haben würde. Von
allen Schriftstellern unser Tage schei-
nen Sie mir den Genius der Zeit am Tief -
sten zu verstehen, und unsere Zukunft
am deutlichsten zu fühlen. Es macht
mich glücklich Ihnen dies sagen zu kön-
nen.
Ich erlaube mir, diesem Briefe einige
meiner Aufsätze und Gedichte beizule-
gen. Ich thue es nicht, um von Ihnen
einer Dank dafür zu empfangen, — ja,
ich denke nicht einmal daran, dass Sie
sie lesen werden. Es ist mir aber eine
grosse Genugthuung dennoch sie Ihnen
16
£
EMERSON-GRIMM
L QBIMM TO EMEBSOK.
Bebun, April 5, 1856.
Honored Sib, — The departure of
Mr. Alexander Thayer gives me the
opportunity of addressing a few words
to you. A year ago I first became ac-
quainted with your writings, which since
that time have been read by me repeat-
edly, with ever recurring admiration.
Everywhere I seem to find my own
secret thoughts, — even the words in
which I would prefer to have expressed
them. Of all the writers of our day
you seem to me to understand the gen-
ius of the time most profoundly, to
anticipate our future most clearly. It
makes me happy to be permitted to say
this to you.
I have permitted myself to enclose
with this letter some of my essays and
poems. I do it, not in order to receive
thanks from you, — indeed, I do not
even think of your reading them, but it
is, nevertheless, a great satisfaction to
17
EMERSON-GRIMM
zu übersenden, es macht mich der Ge-
danke stolz, dass Sie in Ihr Haus und
Ihre Hände kommen.
In wahrer Hochachtung und Vereh-
rung der Ihrige,
Hebman Grimm.
1«
EMERSON-GRIMM
me to send them to you. The thought
makes me proud that they will come
into your house and into your hands.
With true veneration and esteem.
Tours, Hebman Gbimm.
19
« fco*
n
EMERSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
n. E1CEB80K TO OBQEM.
GOKOOBD, MABflACHUBETTS, 29 Jllfie, 1858.
Deab Sib, — When Mr. Thayer long
since brought me your letter, with Ar-
min and Demetrius and the pieces con-
tributed by you to the Morgenblatt, I
should have at once expressed to you
the surprise and pleasure I felt, — but
that Mr. Thayer assured me that he
should soon return to Germany, and
would carry my letters of acknowledg-
ment. And ever since, from time to
time, I have heard again that he was
on the point of going. This fact is the
only palliating circumstance I can offer
on this tardiest reply to your goodness.
The delay has also made the few criti-
cal words I once thought of writing
down impertinent, and I can only now
recall how happy I was in the proffered
sympathy of a scholar bearing your hon-
ored name, and well proved by what I
read worthy to bear it.
It was an easy work of love to read
the dramas, the poems, and the essays
in the Morgenblatt. I found special
interest, perhaps somewhat accidental,
23
EMERSON-GRIMM
in the Demetrius. For the translated
Essay on Shakespeare, — I am proud
to be introduced to Berlin under condi-
tions of so good omen, and not a little
proud to read myself in German at all.
It is cheering to know that our fellow
students, lovers of the same muses, work
in one wiU, though so widely sundered,
— and the more, because facilitated in-
tercourse suggests to each the hope of
seeing the other. I am grown to the
stationary age ; but who knows but the
westward tendency, which seems to be
impressed on the whole Teutonic family,
will one day bring you to us ! As Mr.
Thayer generously offers me room in his
trun^, I gladly use the opportunity to
send you a copy of all my books in the
corrected edition. By and by, I hope to
send you a chapter or two of more per-
manent interest.
With all kind and grateful regards,
R. W, Emebson.
Herb£Ak Gbimh, Esq.
Kindness of A. W. Thayer, Esq.
24
m
EMERSON TO THE FRÄULEIN GISELA
VON ARNIM, AFTERWARDS THE
WIFE OF HERMAN GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
m. BMEBSOK TO THB FRIuLBIK GISELA TON
ARNIM, AFTEBWABDS THB WIFB 07 HEB-
lEAN GBDfM.
GoNOOBD, Massachusetts, 29 cTun«, 1858.
I have received — it is already some
months since — the welcome gift of
your Dramatic Works in two volumes.
I cannot tell you how pleasant was to
me this token from one of your name,
and, since I have become acquainted
with your thoughts, this token from
yourself. I had been now for fifteen
years an admirer of your mother's gen-
ius. All her books, I believe, are on
my shelves, and I had eagerly learned
what now and then a rare traveller could
tell me of her happy personal and fam-
ily relations. But no traveller could tell
me so much good as this little pair of
books you send me has told, — of no-
blest culture still found in her house,
and that best kind of genius which
springs from inspirations of the heart.
I am charmed with the Trost in Thränen
above all; for the choice of subject
indicates high sympathies, and it is
almost a test by which the finest people
27
EMERSON-GRIMM
I have ever known might be selected, —
their interest in Michelangelo and his
friends, Yittoria Colonna in chief, so
that I dare to believe myself already-
acquainted with you, and very heartily
your friend. You shall not let your
muse sleep, but continue to draw pic-
tures provoking a legitimate interest,
by showing a heart of more resources
than any other.
Lest I should make quite no return
for your goodness, I have confided to
Mr. Thayer for you a few numbers of
our Boston Magazine, in which I some-
times write a chapter.
May I ask of you the favor to offer
my respects to your mother, the Fran
von Arnim, and to thank her in my
name for many happy hours she has for-
merly given to friends of mine and to
me, through her writings. With re-
newed thanks for your goodness, I am,
with the best hope, and with great re-
spect, Your friend,
B. W. Emebson.
To the FraiUein Gisela von Abnim,
Berlin.
KuidnesB of A. W. Thayer, Esq.
28
IV
EMERSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
lY. SMEBSOK TO OBDfM.
GoNOOBD, Massaohusietts, 9 July, 1869.
My deab Sib, — I have been too
much and too long your debtor. But
I will not tire you with excuses which
fate made, and which words could not
help or adorn. It is much that I have
felt that I was dealing with one who
could well afiEord me as much time as I
wanted. Now I have been reading over
your letter, and your Morgenblatt, and
your Essays, and am warmed into such
thankful kindness, that the time more
or less seems not important. I have
read the first Canto of the Cimbri and
Teutons, which gives high assurances of
power. The only question I ask, and,
in this case, with impatience, is, '^How
many years does my poet count ? " For,
if you are still young, you will cany it
very far, — wiüi such aplomb, such re-
serves, and such mastery of your means.
But, in our distracting times, the writ-
ers falling abroad with too much infor-
mation amassed upon them, it needs the
irresistible drive-wheel of early man-
hood to overcome the forces of disper-
31
EMEBSON-GiRIMM
sion. Bnt I will allow you more years
than you have, as I choose to ascribe to
you the rare felicity of carrying into
maturity the heat of youth, and so I
augur "a new mom risen on mid noon "
to your people. I have just been
reading, with great content, the paper
on Michelangelo in the Essays. The
views taken are all wise and generous ;
and to me also the contribution from
Baczynsky is new and most welcome.
But I give you fair warning that, as
I alone in America, at this day possess
this book of yours, I intend to use my
advantage. I advise you to watch me
narrowly. I think I shall reproduce
you in lectures, poems, essays, — what-
ever I may in these months be called to
write. I have already been quoting you
a good many times, within a few days,
and it was plain, nobody knew where I
became so suddenly learned and discern-
ing.
I like well what you say, that, when
you are at liberty, you will come and
see us. After the fine compliments you
pay me, I might well think twice of
allowing you to undeceive yourself. I
32
EMERSON-GRIMM
shall pay you the higher compliment of
entire trust. I shall not run away.
You and I shall not fear to meet, or to
be silent, or to prize each other's love
of letters less, because we can be mod-
est nobodies at home. Come and see
our quiet river, and its skifEs, our woods
and meadows, in this little town, whose
chief contribution to the public good is,
that every farmer sends milk and wood
to Boston.
A few friends I have here, who are
well worth knowing, if you will stay
long enough to let the afiänities play.
I have found that this personality is
the daintiest ware with which we deal,
and almost no ability is any guarantee
of sympathy, unless fortune also aid
in the lack of counterparts. I have a
hope as of earliest youth, since your
friend Gisela von Arnim has written me
such welcome sketches of her friends,
and taught me to thank and prize them
as mine also. Another person sent me
the Morgenblatt containing your friend-
liest critique on Emerson. I must say,
in all frankness, that your words about
me seem strangely overcharged. That
33
EMEBSON-GBIMM
such freedom of thought as I use should
impress or shock an Englishman, or a
churchman in America, is to he ex-
pected. But this same freedom I as-
cribe habitually to you Germans. It
belongs to Goethe, Schiller, and Nova-
lis, throughout, and I impute it to your
writers whom I do not know: and I
know not what whim of rhetoric I may
have to thank, that leads you to over-
prize my pages. Well, I suppose I
must wish your illusions will last, until
I can justify them by some real per-
forming.
I was sad to read, in the Journal you
sent me, the death of one of those who
should never die, — and untimely for
me, who was just coming into relations
with her nearest friends, which, could
they have been earlier, would have
strangely mixed dreams and realities.
I pray you to persevere, in spite of
my silences and shortcomings, in send-
ing me, now and then, a leaf written
or printed. I hope I shall not be al-
ways ungrateful. My littie book, long
delayed, which I call Conduct of Life,
I mean to send you in the autumn, and
34
EMERSON-GRIMM
an enlarged, and, I hope, enriched edi-
tion of Poems. Yet it is not books, but
sense and sympathy, which I wish to
offer you.
Yours affectionately,
B. W. Emerson.
35
EMEBSON TO GISELA VON ABNDf
EMERSON-QRIMM
Y. BMEB80N TO GISELA YOB ARNHC.
C!oN(x>BD, Massachusbttb, 10 July, 1859.
My deab Fbibnd, — You must haYe
long ago belieYod that your letter had
failed to reach me — no ; there is more
ProYidence in the world than that so
much and so precious good will can miss
of its mark. Thanks for the frankness
and braYery, as well as the wisdom, of
these pages. They call me out, and are
such a surprise, that I shrink a little
before so much sincerity. In reading
your letter, I felt as when I read rarely
a good noYel, rebuked that I do not use
in my life these delicious relations ; or
that I accept anything inferior and
ugly. I owe you, therefore, a high
debt, as exiles eYer do to those who
speak their natiYO language, and think,
for a time, we will noYer speak the
speech of the streets again. But you
must repeat and continue your good
deed, to keep me in my good resolutions.
There is much to think of, much to
speak of, in your letter, and, though
you haYe been frank, you wake more
curiosity than you satisfy.
39
EMERSON-GRIMM
I am piqued by your account of your
habits of thought, and, when I try to
translate yours into mine, I am not sure
they correspond. To what you say of
your habits of creation, I listen warily ;
but perhaps I do not know the like.
Tou would rather know something of
your friend's life than what thought
occupies him. I hope it is no language
of despair, grown out of the failures of
our fellows. One hears so much called
'^ thought" which is not thought, but
only the memories of a torpid mind,
that we say. Tell us rather of your corn-
barn or your shoestring. But I confide,
that, if my friend could give me his
thought, it is the only gift, and carries
all others with it. No age, no expe-
rience makes the hunger less. I have
the same craving, and the same worship
for a new thought as when my first in-
tellectual friendships gave wings to my
head and feet, and new heavens and
earth. Yet I could well believe, as I
read Queen Ingeborg, that you do not
like ghosts, but real men and women.
And that you think with such forms,
and not with counters. That you make
40
EMERSON-GRIMM
so much of your friends is also the
habit of a noble soul; and, since life
admits of friendship, why should we ever
suffer it to be cheap and apathized?
Thanks again that you have confided to
me tidings of your companions. Ber-
lin shall be to me henceforth a noble
and cordial city. And the invitation
you send me to visit it gives me new
rights in Europe.
I am a bad traveller, and, every year,
am a little faster tied to my own nook
and cell, by tasks unperformed, and by
solitary habits, and, especially as re-
gards Germany, by a despair of talking
in a language which I can only read,
and not pronounce, and much less
speak.
But your challenge makes a kind of
daily possibility to my dream. I too
could heartily wish to send you friends
of mine who deserve to see you and to
be seen of you. I gave a letter long
since to Elizabeth Hoar, a dear friend
of mine, and who should have been, had
he lived, the wife of my brother Charles,
but he died many years ago. She is
now in Italy, or in Switzerland, and
41
EMERSON-GRIMM
the war may prevent her reaching Ber-
lin. Should she come, you will find her
a woman in whom mnch culture from
hooks has not weakened the strength or
the delicacy of her native sentiment.
She shares my love for your mother's
genius. There was lately also in Ger-
many a friend of mine, whom I could
dearly have wished you to see, Mrs.
Caroline Tappan. These two would
give you two styles of New England
women, that might suggest to you, het-
ter than almost any others, the range
of our scale. But I fear she is in Paris,
and already perhaps meditating a return
home, though I had written to her not
to leave Germany without seeking to
see you. She did not go to Berlin.
I read your plays, and find them in-
teresting, — which is to say much, for
I lack, I helieve, a true taste for that
form, and wisli always that it were a
tale instead, which seems to me the form
that is always in season; whilst the
drama, though it was once the right
form, and then was again right, yet
seems to die out from time to time;
and, in these days, to labor with much
42
•EMERSON-ORIMM
that is old convention, and is so much
deduction of power. Certainly it re-
quires great health and wealth of power
to ventriloquize (shall I say?) through
so many hodies; whilst, in the novel,
only that need he said which we are
inspired to say, and the reliefs and op-
positions take care of themselves. But,
in Germany, I can well see, the drama
seems to cling ahout the intellectual
heart, as if it were one of the "prime
liete creature" that Dante speaks of,
and could not he ignored.
You must thank my young transla-
tor, of whom you speak, for her lahor
of love, though the "glued hook" you
seem to have sent me never arrived.
Neither did the Hungarian poems,
PetöfL's, which you praise. Herman
Grimm's Obituary Notice of your mo-
ther reached me from him, and was
every way important. I mourned that
I could not earlier have established my
alliance with your circle, that I might
have told her how much I and my
friends owed her. Who had such mo-
therwit ? such sallies ? such portraits ?
such suppression of commonplace ? Con-
43
EMERSON-GRIMM
tinne to befriend me, nor let my slow-
ness to write, which I will not make
worse by explanation, chill your flow-
ing generosity, which I love like sun-
shine. If you will write me such an-
other letter as you have written, perhaps
all my ice will go, and I shall suddenly
grow genial and affable. Ah ! how many
secrets sleep in each, which only need
invitation from the other to come forth
to mutual benefit.
With the highest respect and regard.
Yours, R. Waldo Emebson.
44
Herman Grimm
VI
OBDOI TO EMERSON
EMERSON-GRIMM
yi. GBIMM TO BMBBSON.
BSRUN, 21 GBABBN8TBA88B,
October 25, 1860.
Verehbteb Herb, — Hätte ich
Urnen so oft geschrieben als ich schrei-
ben wollte, so würden Sie viel Briefe
von mir haben. Zuerst als ich vor län-
ger als einem Jahre den Ihrigen empfing,
wollte ich Ihnen dafür danken, denn ich
war stolz darauf, dass Sie an mich ge-
dacht und mir geschrieben hatten. Ich
unterliess es aber weil sich zuviel Dinge
aufdrängten, von denen ich hätte reden
müssen, und von denen doch wieder,
wenn ich es thun wollte, zu reden un-
möglich war. Die Krankheit meiner
seligen Schwiegermutter nahm damals
schon den gefährlichen Character an,
der das Ende herbeiführte. Dann trat
der Tod ein, dann die darauf folgende
Abspannung meiner selbst, dann die
Krankheit und der Tod meines Vaters,
nach dem ich mich selbst kurz vorher
mit Gisela von Arnim verheirathet
hatte, vor der Sie nicht wussten, dass sie
meine Frau werden würde, und seit dem
folgte eins nach dem andern, das mich
46
EMERSON-GRIMM
VI. OBIHM TO BMEBSON.
Besun, October 25, 1860.
Honored Sib, — Had I written yoa
as often as I intended to do so, you
would have many letters from me.
Primarily, when more than a year ago
I received yours, I wanted to thank you
for it, for I was proud that you had
thought of me and had written to me ;
but I omitted to do so because too many
things seemed to crowd in, of which I
would have had to speak, and of which,
nevertheless, had I wanted to do so, it
would have been impossible for me to
speak. The illness of my departed
mother-in-law showed even then its
dangerous character, which brought
about the end ; then her death followed ;
then came my own physical collapse.
After that, the illness and death of my
father, coming soon after I had married
Gisela von Arnim, of whom you did not
know that she was to become my wife,
and since then one prevention followed
the other. All this made me so in-
47
£M£RSON-GRIMM
abhielt. Ich war so unfähig dadurch,
Ihnen den Brief zu schicken den ich
schreiben wollte, dass ich selbst mein
Buch über liichel Angelo ohne einen
begleitenden Gmss an Sie absendete.
Auch jetzt ist es eigentlich noch beim
Alten, es ist als sollte ich nicht wieder
zu der Ruhe kommen, nach der ich mich
so sehr sehne ; denn mein Onkel Jakob
kränkelt seit dem Tode seines Bruders,
und in alles, was ich denke und thue,
spielt die Sorge um die Zukunft hin-
ein, die unabänderlich bevorsteht. Im
Augenblicke steht es besser mit ihm;
er hat sich ein wenig von dem kalten
Fieber erholt, an dem er den Sommer
über krank war. Doch ist kein Yerlass
auf diese Besserung, denn er ist alt, im
77sten Jahre steht er, und selbst wenn
er gesund und frisch wäre, müsste man
auf den Verlust gefasst sein.
So sind denn die letzten Jahre eine
Ausnahmezeit für mich gewesen. Ich
möchte Ihnen nur sagen, wie oft ich
während dem ihre Bücher aufgeschla-
gen und tröstende Beruhigung daraus
geschöpft habe. Sie schreiben, dass
jeder der ihre Worte liest, denken muss,
48
EMERSON-GRIMM
capable of sending yon the letter which
I wanted to write, that I even sent you
my book about Michelangelo, without
an accompanying greeting.
Even now there is really no change
for the better. It seems that I am
not to attain the rest for which I am
longing so greatly, for my uncle Jacob
is in indifferent health since the death
of his brother, and into all that I think
and do there enters care for the future
which is facing me inexorably. At
the moment he is better; he has con-
yalesced somewhat from the chills and
fever from which he suffered during the
smnmer, but there is no reliance to be
placed upon this convalescence, for he
is old. He is in his seventy-seventh
year, and even if he were healthy and
vigorous it would be necessary to be re-
signed to his loss.
Thus the last years have been an ex-
ceptional period for me. I only wish
to tell you how often daring this time
I have opened your books and how much
comforting ease of mind I have drawn
from them. Tou write so that every
one reading your words must think tiiat
49
EMERSON-GRIMM
Sie hätten an ihn allein gedacht, — man
empfindet zu stark die Liebe, die Sie
zu allen Menschen hegen, — man meint,
es sei unmöglich dass Sie nicht nur ein-
zelne bevorzugte damit gemeint, und
man zählt sich diessen zu. Welch' ein
Glück für ein Land einen solchen Mann
zu besitzen ! Wenn ich an America
denke, denke ich an Sie, und America
scheint mir so das erste Land der Erde.
Sie wissen wohl, ich würde das nicht
sagen wenn es nicht in der That meine
innerste Meinung wäre. Der Gang der
Dinge und Ereignisse erscheint mir wie
der Rythmus eines schönen Gredichtes
wenn ich ihre Worte lese, und das Ge-
meinste löst sich auf in nothwendige
Schönheit durch Ihre Beobachtung.
Ich habe versucht mein Buch über
Michel Angelo in Ihrem Sinne zu
schreiben, jedes Blatt so, dass es die
Probe hielte wenn ich es Ihnen vor-
läse. Im August habe ich das Buch
an Sie abgeschickt, und hoffe dass es
an Ihre Addresse gelangte. Ich weiss
wie unvollkommen es ist. Nehmen
Sie den guten Willen für die That und
wenn Sie einmal Zeit haben, lassen Sie
50
EMERSON-GRIMM
you had thought of him alone. The
love which you have for all mankind
is felt so strongly that one thinks it
impossible that you should not have
thought of single preferred persons,
among whom the reader counts himself.
What a happiness for a country to pos-
sess such a man! When I think of
America I think of you, and America
appears to me as the first country of the
world. You well know I would not say
this if it were not really my innermost
conviction. When I read your words,
the course of years and events appears
to me like the rhythm of a beautiful
poem, and even the most commonplace is
dissolved into necessary beauty through
your observation.
I have endeavored to write my book
about Michelangelo in this sense —
every page, so that it would stand the
test if I could read it aloud to you. I
sent the book to you in August, and
hope that it has reached your address.
I know how imperfect it is, but please
take the good will for the deed, and if
you ever have time let me know what
51
EMERSON-GRIMM
mich wissen was Sie daran zu tadeln
finden. Ich möchte diese Bemerkun-
gen für den zweiten Theil benutzen,
mit dem ich gerade beschäftigt bin.
Cornelius, dem ich es widmete, hat in
diesen Tagen in Rom seine Tochter
verloren. Er steht nun ganz allein im
hohen Alter, es ist ein trauriges Schick-
sal, verbittert noch durch die Vernach-
lässigung, die er hier erfährt und durch
seine Trauer um die Zustände in Rom,
an denen er als Elatholik tiefen An-
theil nimmt. Ich für meine Person
kann mich aber nur freuen, dass die
grosse Römische Lüge, an der Deutsch-
land so lange zu leiden hatte, immer
mehr in sich zusammenfällt.
Leben Sie wohl. Meine Frau grttsst
Sie tausendmal. Wollen Sie uns eine
grosse Freude machen, so schicken Sie
uns ein recht ähnliches Portrait von
Sich. Ich habe einige erlangt, die
mir jedoch nicht ähnlich scheinen.
In Verehrung und Dankbarkeit
Ihr Herman Gbimm.
(Gestern sind wir gerade ein Jahr
verheirathet.)
EMERSON-GRIMM
yon find to censure. I should like to
utilize your remarks for a second vol-
ume upon which I am now engaged.
Cornelius, to whom I dedicated it, lost
his daughter in Rome recently. He is
now entirely alone at great age. It is
a sad thought, embittered also by the
neglect which he experiences here, and
by his sorrow over the condition of af-
fairs in Rome, which concern him as a
Catholic very deeply. I personally can
only rejoice however that the great Ro-
man lie, from which Germany has had
to suffer so long, is more and more col-
lapsing in itself.
Farewell. My wife greets you a
thousand times. If you wish to make
us happy, please send us a very good
portrait of yourself. I have succeeded
in getting some which do not, however,
seem to me to be good likenesses.
With esteem and gratitude,
Your Herman Grimm.
(Yesterday we had been married just
one year.)
63
D^^JLHr^'l
vn
TO GBDIM
EMERSON-GRIMM
yn. EMEBSOK TO OBIMM«
GoKOOBD, June 27, 1861.
My deab Fbiend, — You will think
there never wais such prodigal sloth as
mine. To have such friends within easy
reach hy the steamer's mails, and to
postpone letters (to write which is its
own reward), and, by postponing, to
brave the chances of time and harm
on either side, — looks foolhardy, in a
world where decay is so industrious.
You have behaved so nobly too, on your
part, as to leave my sloth and irresolu-
tion without excuse : for you have sent
me such gentle reminders, in the shape
of new benefits, that my debt grows
from month to month. The Life of
Michelangelo did not reach me until
long after it was announced by your
letter. I feared it was lost, and or-
dered a copy from Berlin. Your own
book arrived at last, and, soon after-
wards, the ordered copy, and there is
now a third copy, in our Boston Athe-
naeum; so that America can begin to
read. The book is a treasure, — in the
hero, the treatment, the frank criticism,
57
• •■> o
< 1» .
EMERSON-GRIMM
the judicial opinions, and, — what I
value most, — the interior convictions
of the writer bravely imparted, though
more seldom than I could wish, as in
the first pages, or in the interpreta-
tion of M. A.'s sentence or Raffaelle's
diligence. The book has research,
method, and daylight. I hate circular
sentences, or echoing sentences, where
the last half cunningly repeats' the first
half, — but you step from stone to stone,
and advance ever. I first knew from
your Essay the passages from Fran-
cesco d' Ollanda, and now you tell me
the Florentine Government will print
the Buonarroti Papers. Mr. Cobden, the
English Member of Parliament, was in
Boston two years ago, and told me he
had been shown by the Buonarroti fam-
ily, in Florence, a considerable collec-
tion of MSS. of Michelangelo. I hope,
now that liberty has come, or is coming
to Italy, there will be all the more zeal
to print them. Michael is an old friend
of mine. A noble, suffering soul ; poor,
that others may be rich; indemnified
only in his perception of beauty. And
his solitude and his opulent genius
58
EMERSON-GRIMM
strongly attract. I miss cheerfalness.
He is tragic, like Dante; though the
Erythrsean Sibyl is beautiful. I re-
member long ago what a charm I found
in the figure of Justice, on Paul Ill's
monument, in the Vatican, and wished
the legend true that ascribed the design
to Michael A. Yet he has put majesty,
like sunshine, into St. Peter's. We
must let him be as sad as he pleases.
He is one of the indispensable men on
whose credit the race goes. I believe
I sympathize with all your admirations.
Goethe and Michael A. deserve your
fine speeches, and are not perilous, for
a long time. One may absorb great
amounts of these, with impunity; but
we must watch the face of our proper
Guardian, and if his eye dims a little,
drop our trusted companions as profane.
I have a fancy that talent, which is so
imperative in the passing hour, is dele-
terious to duration ; what a pity we can-
not have genius without talent. Even
in Goethe, the culture and varied, busy
talent mar the simple grandeur of the
impression, and he called himself a lay-
man beside Beethoven.
69
I
{
EMERSON-GRIMM
Yet I do not the less esteem your
present taste, which I respect as gener-
ous and wholesome. Nay, I am very
proud of my friend, and of his perform-
ance. Pleases me well that you see so
truly the penetrative virtue of well-born
souls. Above themselves is the right
by which they enter ad eundem into
idl spirits and societies of their own
order. Like princes, they have sleep-
ing titles, which perhaps they never
assert, finding in the heyday of action
relations enough close at hand, yet are
these claims available at any hour, —
claims, against which, conventions, dis-
parities, nationality, fight in vain, for
they transcend all bounds, as gravity
grasps instantanepusly all ponderable
masses.
Thanks evermore for these costly
fruits you send me over the sea ! I have
the brochure on Groethe in Italy and
that on the portraits and statues of
Goethe. I persuade myself that you
speak English. I read German with
some ease, and always better, yet I
never shall speak it. B|}t I please my-
self, that, thanks to your better schol-
60
EMERSON-GRIMM
arship, you and I shall, one of these
days, have a long conversation in Eng-
lish. We are cleaning up America in
these days to give you a better recep-
tion. You will have interested your-
self to some extent, I am sure, in our
perverse politics. What shall I say to
you of them ? 'T is a mortification that
because a nation had no enemy, it should
become its own ; and, because it has an
immense future, it should commit sui-
cide ! Sometimes I think it a war of
manners. The Southern climate and
slavery generate a marked style of man-
ners. The people are haughty, self -pos-
sessed^ suave, and affect to despise North-
ern manners as of the shop and compt-
ing-room; whilst we find the planters
picturesque, but frivolous and brutal.
Northern labor encroaches on the plant-
ers daily, diminishing their political
power, whilst their haughty temper
makes it impossible for them to play a
second part. The day came when they
saw that the Government, which their
party had hitherto controlled, must now,
through the irresistible census, pass
out of their hands. They decided to
61
^ EMERSON-GRIMM
secede. The outgoing administration
let them have their own way, and when
the new Government came in, the rehel-
lion was too strong for any repression
short of vast war ; and our Federal Grov-
ernment has now 300,000 men in the
field. To ns, hefore yet a battle has
been fought, it looks as if the dispar-
ity was immense, and that we possess
all advantages, — whatever may be the
issue of the first collisions. If we may
be trusted, the war will be short, — and
yet the parties must long remain in f abe
position, or can only come right by
means of the universal repudiation of its
leaders by the South.
But I am running wide, and leaving
that which belongs to you. Let me say
that I rejoice in the union which allows
me to address this letter to you, whilst
I have my friend Gisela in my thoughts.
To her, also, be this sheet inscribed;
and let me entreat, meantime, that she,
on the other hand, will not quite be-
lieve that she writes to me by the hand
of her husband, but will, out of her sin-
gular goodness, use to me that frank-
ness with which she already indulged
62
EMERSON-GRIMM
me with autograph letters. My only
confidante in this relation is my daugh-
ter Ellen, who reads Gisela's letters
and yours to me, with entire devotion,
and whose letter to your wife (sent
through Rev. Mr. Longfellow) I hope
you have long since received. Ellen
has facility — and inclination to front
and surmount the harriers of language
and script. My little hook, Conduct of
Life, I tried in vain to send you hy
post. So I sent it hy Mr. Burlingame,
our Minister to Austria, who kindly
promised me to forward it to you. But
the Austrian Government has declined
to receive him, and I know not how far
he went, or what hecame of the poor lit-
tle hook. You asked for my photograph
head, and I tried yesterday in Boston
to procure you something ; hut they were
all too repulsive. Ellen had enclosed
in her letter some scrap of an effigy.
But I am told that I shall yet have a
hotter to send. And so, with thanks
and earnest good wishes to you and
yours, I wait new tidings of you.
R. W. Emebson.
Herman Gbdoi.
63
vm
EMERSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
ym. BMEBSOK TO GBOOC
Ck>vooBD, Massaghüsbtts, 14 April, 1867.
My deab Mb. Gbimm, — Will you
allow me the pleasure of introducing to
you a young friend of mine, Mr. Wil-
liam James, a student of medicine at
Cambridge. He has lately returned
from South America, whither he accom-
panied Professor Agassiz in his scien-
tific tour in Brazil. He goes now to
Berlin, with a view to the further prose-
cution of his studies. His father,Henry
James, Esq., an old friend of mine, is
a man of rare insight and of brilliant
conversation, and I doubt not you will
find the son the valued companion that
we hold him. He asks me rather sud-
denly for this letter, or I should make
it the companion of one or two more that
have long been due to yourself, and to
my friend Gisela Arnim, to whom I
p^ay you to present my affectionate
salutations, with the promise to make
to her soon a special acknowledgment
of her letter, which, though addressed
to my daughter, directly concerned me,
67
EMERSON-GRIMM
and of her book, on which I have mnch
to say.
I remain yonr affectionate debtor,
R. Waldo Emersok.
Hebman Gbimm, Esq.
68
GBIMM TO £MEBSON
EMERSON-GRIMM
DL aSDEM TO EMBB80N.
Bkbldt, Mathaxdlibchstrassx 5,
October 19, 1867.
Yebehbteb Hebb und Fbeund, —
Statt all der Briefe welche ich Ihnen,
nun seit Jahren schon, in Gedanken
geschrieben habe, ohne sie je auf's
Papier zu bringen, sende ich nun durch
Mr. Foote nur eine kurze Nachricht.
Weshalb ich so oft schreiben wollte,
brauche ich wohl nicht zu sagen. In
all den schweren Stunden die ich in
den letzten Jahren durchmachte : als
die Mutter meiner Frau starb, als
mein Onkel Jakob ihr folgte, und mein
Vater, und in letzten Sommer, vor kaum
drei Monaten, meine Mutter, war es
mein einziger Trost fast, die Gredanken
die mich erfüllten, zu Briefen an Sie
zu gestalten, in denen ich aussprach
was mir das Herz durchschnitt.
Und dann wieder unterliess ich es
niederzuschreiben was ich gedacht
hatte, und mir war zu Muthe als
wüssten Sie es trotzdem.
Was hätte ich sonst zu schreiben?
Dass ich Ihre Bücher immer wieder
70
EMERSON-GRIMM
IZ. GBIMM TO EMEBSOK.
Berlin, October 19, 1867.
Honored Sir and Friend, — In-
stead of all the letters which I have for
years written to you in my thoughts,
without ever pntting them to paper, I
now send you hrief news through Mr.
Foote. Why I wanted to write so often
I hardly need tell you. In all the heavy
hours through which I have passed in
the last years — when my wife's mother
died, when my uncle Jacoh followed
her, and my father, and last summer,
hardly two months ago, my mother —
it was almost my only comfort to for-
mulate the thoughts which filled me
into letters to you, in which I expressed
that which was cutting my heart in
twain.
Then again however I omitted to
write out what I had thought, but I
had the feeling that you knew it never-
theless.
What else is there that I could write,
— that I read your books again and
71
EMERSON-GRIMM
lese ; — dass Ihre Briefe mich glück-
lich machten, und mir nichts lieber
war als von Ihnen erzählt zu hören.
Ich wttsste Niemand zu nennen, denn
ich kennen lernen möchte, ausser Ihnen.
Scheute ich meiner Frau wegen die
Seereise nicht, so wäre ich längst ge-
kommen. Allein sie würde die Fahrt
hinüber nicht ertragen können.
Ich sende Ihnen durch Mr. Foote
eine Kunstzeitschrift welche ich in den
letzten beiden Jahren beinahe ganz
allein geschrieben habe und jetzt auf-
gebe, weil mir die Zeit dazu fehlt.
Ich sende Ihnen femer, in der Hoff-
nung Ihnen eine kleine Freude zu
machen, einen der ersten Abdrucke
eines eben fertig gewordenen Kupfer-
stiches, nach dem von mir in diesem
Journal besprochenen anonymen Kopfe,
der sich in Besitz eines meiner Freunde
in der Schweiz befindet, und den ein
Kupferstecher, Friedrich Weber, durch
mich veranlasst, gestochen hat. Das
2te Blatt ist ein Portrait von Clemens
Brentano, welches in seinen letzten
Jahren ein Bruder meines Vaters, der
als Maler in Cassel lebte, gezeichnet
72
EMERSON-GRIMM
again, that your letters made me hap-
py, and that I like nothing better than
to hear talk about you ? I can mention
no one whom I wiöh to know except
yourself. If I did not dread the sea
voyage on account of my wife, I should
have come over long ago ; but she would
not be able to bear the voyage over to
you.
I send you through Mr. Foote an art
periodical which I write almost alone,
for the last two years, and which I am
giving up on account of want of time.
Furthermore, I send you, in the hope
of giving you a little pleasure, one of
the first impressions of an engraving
on copper which has just been finished,
after the anonymous head which I had
discussed in this periodical, which is in
the possession of one of my friends in
Switzerland, and which was engraved
by a copper-plate engraver, Friedrich
Weber, at my suggestion. The second
sheet is a portrait of Clemens Brentano
drawn and etched in his last years by a
brother of my father, who was an artist
73
EMERSON-GRIMM
und radirt hat. Und drittens sendet
meine Frau, mit vielen herzlichen
Grossen, ein Blatt ihrer Tochter, einen
Stich nach dem ersten und letzten
Gemälde eines jungen Malers namens
Kachel, der kurz nach YoUendong
desselben an der Schwindsucht starb,
und dessen Vater, einen ausgezeichneten
alten Mann, wir vor einigen Jahren
in der Schweiz kennen lernten.
Will Ihre Tochter uns eine rechte
Freude machen, so sendet sie uns dage-
gen ihr Portrait, und wollen Sie selbst
das Ihrige dazu legen, so vervollstän-
digen Sie unsere Sammlung Ihrer Por-
traits, deren wie eine ganze Reihe nun
besitzen, die wir oft ansehen, als hätten
wir Sie gekannt seit langen Zeiten.
Mr. James ist hier angekommen und
gefällt uns sehr. Morgen Abend wird
er bei uns Joachim, den berühmten Yio-
linspieler kennen lernen, zugleich mei-
nen besten Freund, und zugleich Den-
jenigen, der Ihre Gedanken zuerst mit
in Deutschland ihrem ganzen Grewicht
nach kennen lernte. Joachim und ich
lasen Ihre Werke zu einer Zeit in
Deutschland, wo ausser uns Niemand
74
EMERSON-GRIMM
in Cassel; and in the third place my
wife, with many cordial regards, sends
a sheet of her daughter — an engraving,
after the first and last painting of a
young artist by the name of E^achel,
who died of consumption soon after its
completion, and with whose father, a
most excellent old man, we became ac-
quainted a few years ago in Switzer-
land.
If your daughter wishes to give me
great pleasure she will send us her por-
trait, and if you will add your own, you
will complete our collection of your por-
traits, of which we have quite a num-
ber, and which we often look at as though
we had known you for a long time.
Mr. James has arrived here, and we
are greatly pleased with him. To-mor-
row evening he will become acquainted
at our house with Joachim, the cele-
brated violinist, — at the same time my
best friend, and also the man who was
among the first in Germany to become
acquainted with your thoughts in the
fullness of their importance. Joachim
and I read your works at the time in
Germany when besides us perhaps no
75
EMERSON-GRIMM
vielleicht sie kannte. Jetzt freilich
kennen sie viele und lernen immer mehr
sie kennen.
Ich sandt Ihnen vor einigen Monaten
die drei Bände eines Romanes,^ in dem
snch von America die Rede ist. Was
werden Sie dazu gesagt hahen? Ich
denke manchmal daran, denn der E^ect
einer solchen Arheit hleiht doch immer
ein problematischer.
Ich schliesse meinen Brief als hätte
ich gestern geschrieben mid schriebe
morgen wieder.
Mit den herzlichsten Grüssen,
der Ihrige,
Herman Gbimm.
^ " Unüberwindliohe Mächte'* {Unconquer^
aJUe Potoers), a romance by Herman Grimm,
newly issned, 19Q2. Containing passages of
great force and beanty.
76
EMEBSOH-GRIMM
one knew tliem. Now indeed manj
know them, and more and more are be-
coming acqaaioted with you.
A. few monihB ago I Bent y Da the
thiee volumea of a, romance in which
America ia mentioned. What will yoa
hare aaid ahont it ? I think of it occa-
sionallj', for the effect of such a work
must always remain very problematicaL
I coDclade my letter as thongh I had
written yesterday and expected to write
again to-morrow. With most cordial
regards, Yours,
Hbsmas Gbihm.
EMERSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
X. KMSBSON TO OBIMK.
CoNGOBD, April 17, 1868.
My deab Mb. Gbimm, — Professor
W. W. Goodwin, who fills the chair of
Greek Language and Literature, in Har-
vard University, sails in a few days for
Europe, with the intention to visit Ber-
lin on his tour. He is an esteemed and
accurate scholar, and though a native
of this town, had his best teaching in
Germany. I believe he ,has once met
you, — many years ago. His present
journey, I think, was first suggested by
the delicate health of his wife, but I
doubt not they are both in condition to
use and enjoy the rest and the attrac-
tions of the tour. He knows enough of
Grerman, as well as of Greek, to have
some right to visit Berlin : and I hope
that both of my friends may be so for-
tunate as to see you, and to bring me
new tidings of the health of my friend
Gisela.
With affectionate regard,
B. W. Emerson.
81
XI
EMERSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-QRIMM
XI. BMEBSON TO OBIMM.
CONCOBD, 6 January J 1871.
My dear Friend, — Yoar enduring
kindness encourages me to ask your
interest in a young countryman of
mine, Mr. William E. Silsbee, an alum-
nus of our Cambridge, and now going
to Berlin, to hear Law lectures. His
parents are excellent persons here, —
my friends, and they and I desire that
he shall not be in Berlin without seeing
Herman Grimm and -if happy etars
conspire — my friend, Gisela von Ar-
nim G. also. Meantime I send to you
and to her perpetual thanks and bene-
dictions. I duly received from you the
brochure on Schleiermacher, and read
with interest, though his was never one
of my high names. For Goethe I think
I have an always ascending regard.
That book of Müller which you sent me,
the Unterhaltungen, is a treasure which
I have kept close by me, and only now
have sent to a friend with advice to trans-
late it.
I give you joy, the new year, on
these great days of Prussia. You will
85
EMERSON-GRIMM
have seen that our people have taken
your part from the first, and have a right
to admire the immense exhibition of
Prussian power. Of course, we are im-
patient for peace, were it only to secure
Prussia at this height of well-being.
Yours faithfully,
R. W. Emebson.
86
xn
EMEBSON TO GRIMM
EMERSON-GRIMM
Zn. SMEBSOK TO GRIMM.
GoKooBD, Massachusetts,
December 18, 1871.
My dear Sib, — Yon have been my
constant benefactor for many years, and
relying on this native bounty of yours,
I have charged my son Edward, who
goes to Berlin to pursue his studies in
Medicine, to pay his early respects to
you, and to my friend, Gisela von Ar-
nim Grimm, if, as I trust, she still
remembers me, — and entreat your
friendship and good advice in his new
home. The boy has gone earlier to Ber-
lin than I had expected, by a month,
or this note should have reached you
sooner.
But let me use the opportunity to
say, that, though I have such a wicked
habit of not writing letters, the best
books and pamphlets have come to me
from your hands, and have been care-
fully read by me with great advantage.
The brochure on Schleiermacher was
specially interesting, as I had read some
volumes of Yamhagen v. Ense's Tage-
bücher, and wondered at the contrast of
89
4
f
EMERSON-GRIMM
the freedom within doors and the sad
politics without. Now that my son is
near you, I shall hope to communicate
with you some more knowledge and with
security of transmission on my part.
With afiEectionate regards,
B. W. Emebson.
90
UNIV. OF niCHIQAN.
DEC 21 1912
EUctroiypedandprinttdby H. O. HoughtoH 6* C«.
Camiridg9t Mtus.^ U.S. A.
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BOUND ipinlllllilllll
,.-- 1 1919 ^^* ^®"
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