The Story of Switzerland by Lina Hug and Richard Stead - HTML preview

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Society. The two former of these may indeed be said to form a part

(and an important part) of the great general awakening of the

eighteenth century, an awakening beginning with the French "period

of enlightenment," and crowned by the era of German classicism. Yet

the French movement itself was based on English influence.

[Pg 325]

Just as, at the Restoration, England had copied the France of Louis

Quatorze, so France in return drew intellectual strength from the

England of the second half of the eighteenth century—England was

then vastly ahead of the Continent—and brought forth the " siècle de

la philosophie." Of the great Frenchmen who learned in the school of

English thought, Montesquieu, Rousseau, and Voltaire stand

foremost, and of these again Voltaire occupies indisputably the

highest place. Voltaire was not only the founder, but the very heart of

the philosophic school which reared its front against the statutes and

traditions and pretensions of the Church. He had drunk deeply of the

spirit of Newton and of Locke during his exile in England, and spread

abroad their views and discoveries, assisted by his genius, his

sparkling wit, his lashing satire, and his graceful style. None equally

with him naturalized on the Continent English free thought and

English rationalism. Voltaire and Rousseau were as two great

beacons planted in the century guiding as they would the course of

philosophy. Both were champions of personal freedom and religious

tolerance in a benighted and down-trodden age. But the influence of

the two men worked in very different ways, for in the one it was based

on the head, in the other on the heart. Voltaire, the realist, by his

venomous and even reckless satires on the Church and on

Christianity, dealt a severe blow to religion at large. Rousseau, the

idealist, plunged into the mystery of good and evil, and was wrecked

by the very impracticability of his system.

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Voltaire, as is well known, spent the last twenty years of his life—his

" verte vieillesse"—almost at the gates of Geneva, and Rousseau, actually one of its citizens, passed the greater part of his life

wandering abroad, though he loved Geneva so dearly that he once

fainted with emotion on leaving it. Yet while both did battle so to

speak from Geneva, neither of them was reckoned as a prophet in

that city. After Voltaire had spent a couple of years at "Les Délices"—

this was subsequent to his break with the great Frederick—he bought

Tournay and Ferney, close to Geneva, to "keep aloof from monarchs

and bishops, of whom he was afraid." Ferney, with its parc à la

Versailles, and its fine castle, he made his residence; and there his

niece did the honours of the house to the countless visitors who came

from all parts to do homage to the illustrious "Aubergiste del' Europe,"

as he pleasantly styled himself. It was not the salons of Ferney that

induced him to reside there, but care for his health and a wish to be

free from all fear of bastilles.

Geneva was not inclined to bow in admiration before her famous

neighbour, as has been already stated. She had by this time become

a great intellectual centre. Men of science, naturalists, and

philosophers there congregated, and a reaction against the

everlasting study of theology, of which the fashion had been

introduced by the Huguenot refugees, having come about, the study

of nature had taken its place. Whilst France was being governed by

the Pompadours, Geneva was ruled by a society of savants, inclined,

it is true, to absolutism

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and narrow Calvinism, but still savants. It is a common error to

suppose that Voltaire's influence took deep root in Geneva. Voltaire

set the current running for the world at large indeed, but Geneva was

not specially affected. In truth, most of her learned men were

disinclined to do more than follow Voltaire half way, as it were, into

his philosophy, whilst some of them, as, for instance, Charles Bonnet,

were particularly narrow in their views, and were even heretic

hunters.[79] Voltaire's contest with the city authorities respecting the establishing of a theatre is a good illustration of his want of real

authority and influence there. It greatly tickled his fancy to seduce the

"pedantic city still holding to her old reformers, and submitting to the

tyrannical laws of Calvin" from the ancient path, and to make war on

her orthodoxy. And as part of his plan he determined to introduce

theatrical performances into the city. The ball was set rolling by an

article in the "Encyclopédie" by D'Alembert, but the arguments there

adduced in favour of the theatre proved of no avail. Rousseau made

a furious reply, and averred that a theatre was injurious to the morals

of a small town. In a large city, where the morals were already

corrupt, it did not signify. The Consistoire was in a flutter, for it had

pretended that the Genevans had a prodigious love for light

amusements. However, one day Voltaire invited the city authorities to

"Les Délices," and there treated them to a representation of his

"Zaïre," and it was no little triumph to the wily old schemer that his

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audience were overcome with emotion. "We have moved to tears

almost the whole council—Consistory and magistrates; I have never

seen more tears," he delightedly reports; "never have the Calvinists

been more tender! God be blessed! I have corrupted Geneva and the

Republic." Nevertheless he was not to triumph. The theatre at "Les

Délices" had to be closed. He opened his theatre several times

elsewhere in Genevan territory, and began to draw crowds, but in

every instance was compelled to close again. In truth, it was not till

1766 that Geneva had a theatre of its own, and even then it lasted

but two years. The building was set on fire by some Puritans, and,

being only of wood, was rapidly consumed. Crowds ran to the

conflagration, but finding that it was only the theatre that was on fire,

they emptied their buckets, shouting, "Let those who wanted a

theatre put out the fire!" " Perruques or tignasses," exclaimed Voltaire, with irritation, "it is all the same with Geneva. If you think you have

caught her, she escapes."

Rousseau (1712-1778) was the son of a Genevan watchmaker, and

received but a very desultory education in his early days. Whilst yet

but a boy he had drunk in the republican and Calvinistic spirit of his

native town, hence his democratic leanings. He was a lover of nature,

and fond of solitude, and was possessed of a deep religious feeling,

even though his religion was based on sentiment. He witnessed the

revolt of 1735-37, and, enfant du peuple as he was, rebelled against

the tyranny of the patricians, and gave vent to his indignation in his

writings. He thus

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became the mouthpiece of a down-trodden people craving for liberty,

of a society satiated with culture. His prize essay on "Arts and

Sciences" is an answer in the negative to the question propounded

by the Dijon Academy, Whether the New Learning had resulted in an

improvement to morals. His next essay on "L'origine et les

fondements de l'inégalité" is a sally against the state of society. In it

he advocates a return to the condition of nature, on which Voltaire

sarcastically retorted, "I felt a great desire to go on all fours." "Emile"

(1762), which Goethe calls the "gospel of education," declares

against the hollowness of our distorted and over-refined civilization,

and advocates a more rational training based on nature. And

Pestalozzi, pedagogue and philanthropist, though he styled "Emile" a

"book of dreams," was yet nourished on Rousseau's ideas. "Emile" is

opposed to deism and materialism on the one hand, whilst on the

other it objects to revelation and miracles, and declares that existing

religion is one-sided and unable to save mankind from intellectual

slavery. The excitement the book created was immense on both

sides, and it was publicly burnt both at Paris and Geneva. Its author

was compelled to flee.

ROUSSEAU.

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PORTRAIT OF PESTALOZZI.

(From a photograph of the statue, at Yverdon, by Lanz.)

[Pg 331]

A similar untoward fate befel the same author's famous "Contrat

Social," perhaps the most important political work of the eighteenth

century. In this Rousseau advances much further than Montesquieu.

Indeed the former was a strong Radical, whilst the latter might be

more fittingly described as a Whig. Rousseau advocates

republicanism, or rather a democracy, as the best form of

government; whilst Montesquieu points to the constitutional

government of England as his model, insisting on the right to equality

of all before the law. The "Contrat Social," as is well known, did much

to advance the revolutionary cause, and became indeed the textbook

of the democracy, and formed the principal basis of the Constitution

of 1793. But Rousseau himself was no agitator. On the contrary,

when the burghers of Geneva rose on his behalf, to save "Emile" and

the "Contrat" from the flames, he hesitated hardly a moment, but

begged them to submit to order, as he disliked disorder and

bloodshed.

[Pg 332]

His novel, "La Nouvelle Heloïse" (1761), introduced the romantic

element, and opened a new era in literature. It was, in fact, a

manifesto against a bewigged and bepowdered civilization. Poetry

was invited to withdraw from the salons and come once more to live

with nature. But this sudden onslaught on the stiff conventionalism

and narrowness of the time was too much, and there ensued an

outburst of excitement and feeling such as we in our day can scarcely

realize. A great stream of sentiment poured into literature, and gave

rise to that tumultuous "storm and stress" ( Sturm und Drang) period in Germany, out of which sprang Schiller's "Räuber" (Robbers).

Goethe caught up the prevailing tone of sentimentality and

supersensitiveness in his "Werther" (1774). This tearful, boisterous

period is but the outrush of a nation's pent-up feelings on its sudden

emancipation from the thraldom of conventionalism. And it led the

way to the golden era in German literature, the era of Schiller and

Goethe.

The brilliant literary court of Madame de Staël at Coppet succeeded

that of Voltaire at Ferney. Though born in Geneva she was in heart a

Frenchwoman, and her native country but little affected her character.

"I would rather go miles to hear a clever man talk than open the

windows of my rooms at Naples to see the beauties of the Gulf," is a

characteristic speech of hers. Yet amongst women-writers Madame

de Staël is perhaps the most generous, the most lofty, and the

grandest figure. Her spirited opposition to Napoleon, her exile, her

brilliant coterie at Coppet, and

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her famous literary productions, are topics of the greatest interest, but

as they do not specially concern Switzerland, they cannot be more

than hinted at here.

HALLER.

From the very depression, political and social, prevailing in Swiss

lands arose the yearning for and proficiency in letters and scientific

culture which in the period now before us produced so prolific a

literature in the country. And it was not in West

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Switzerland alone that this revival of letters showed itself. Basel

prided herself on her naturalists and mathematicians, Merian,

Bernoulli, and Euler; while Zurich could boast of her botanists,

Scheuchzer and John Gessner. Bern produced that most

distinguished naturalist, Haller, who was also a poet; Schaffhausen

claims Johannes von Müller, the brilliant historian; and Brugg

(Aargau) Zimmermann, philosopher and royal physician at Hanover.

Bodmer and Breitinger formed an æsthetic critical forum at Zurich.

And no country of similar area had so many of its sons occupying

positions of honour in foreign universities. A whole colony of Swiss

savants had settled at Berlin, drawn thither by the great Frederick;

others were to be found at Halle. Haller, who had lived at Göttingen

ever since 1736, likewise received an invitation from Frederick, but

found himself unable to accept it, being greatly averse to Voltaire and

his influence. A perfect stream of Swiss intellect poured into

Germany, and by its southern originality, greater power of expression,

and its true German instinct, quickened German nationality, and

witnesses to the fact that there is ever passing between the two

countries an intellectual current.[80] It is impossible within the limits of the present volume to do more than touch upon the most

characteristic literary movements of the period.

Amongst the upper classes in Switzerland, French culture reigned

supreme, just as did French fashions,

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French manners, and it may almost be said, the French language.

Nevertheless, the Swiss were the first to throw off the French

supremacy in literature, turning rather to England as a more

congenial guide and pattern. Bodmer speaks of Shakespeare and

Milton "as the highest manifestations of Germanic genius." As for

German literature itself, it was still in a state of helplessness—what

with the Thirty Years' War, and the German nobility given over to

French tastes and French influence—and fashioned itself in foreign

modes till the close of the Seven Years' War, in 1763, when it took

the leading position it has ever since maintained.

Bern and Zurich, which had both risen to wealth and independence,

were stout opponents of the French policy. Both cities were homes of

the belles lettres, and Zurich was a veritable "poets' corner." The chief figure there was Bodmer, who wielded the literary sceptre in

Switzerland and Germany for well-nigh half a century. A fellow-worker

with him, and his well-nigh inseparable companion, was Breitinger,

and these two more than any others helped to break the French spell.

Bodmer (1698-1783), was the son of a pastor of Greifensee, and had

himself been at first destined for the church, though he was at length

put to the silk trade. But neither calling could keep him from his

beloved letters, and in 1725 he became professor of history and

political science at the Zurich Carolinum. His aim was to raise

literature from its lifeless condition. As far back as 1721, he had

joined with Breitinger and others, in establishing a weekly journal on

the model of Addison's Spectator—"Discurse

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der Maler." Breitinger was professor of Hebrew, and later on, canon

of the minster of Zurich, and was a man of profound learning and

refined taste. The new paper treated not only of social matters, but

discussed poetry and belles lettres generally. Gottsched (1700-1766),

who occupied the chair of rhetoric at Leipzig, was supreme as a

literary critic. His tastes were French, and he held up the French

classics as models. In his "Critical Art of Poetry" (1730), he tries to teach what may be called the mechanics of poetry based on reason,

and pretends that it is in the power of any really clever man to

produce masterpieces in poetry. In 1732, appeared Bodmer's

translation of "Paradise Lost," to the chagrin of Gottsched, who,

feeling that he was losing ground, furiously attacked the Miltonian

following. His mockery of the blind poet roused Bodmer's anger, and

he replied with his work the "Wonderful in Poetry." A fierce

controversy raged for ten years. In the name of Milton the young men

of talent took the side of Zurich, that is, of the German, as opposed to

the French influence in literature. The result was that by the efforts of

such men as Haller, Klopstock, Wieland, and Kleist, the French

influence was ousted and the national German influence came to the

front.

Albrecht von Haller (1708-1777), whom Goethe calls "the father of

national poetry," was the first representative of the new school of

poets which began to turn to nature for inspiration and illustration

rather than to mere dead forms. His poems on the Alps (1732) paint

the majestic beauty of the Bernese highlands, and contrast the

humble and peaceful but

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natural life of the shepherd with the luxurious and artificial life of the

patrician, and the dweller in cities. Haller's writings made a great

impression on the polite world.[81] Klopstock it was, however, whom Bodmer welcomed as the harbinger of a new era, as the German

Milton. Klopstock had been trained in the Swiss school of thought,

and regarded Breitinger's "Critical Art" as his æsthetic bible, whilst

Bodmer's translation of "Paradise Lost" inspired his epic, "Messiah."

The first three cantos appeared in the "Bremer Beiträge" in 1748, and

created such a furore that he was declared to be an immortal poet.

Wieland's first poems were, in 1751, published in the "Swiss Critic,"

and met with a reception hardly less favourable if somewhat less

enthusiastic. A strong friendship springing up between Bodmer and

the young Klopstock, the former offered the poet a temporary home

at his Tusculum (still standing) on the slopes of Zurichberg, that he

might go on with his great epic. The fine view of the lake and

mountains, the "highly cultivated city beneath," was greatly prized by

Goethe who sounds its praises in "Wahrheit und Dichtung." However,

Bodmer was disappointed with his young guest, for Klopstock loved

the society of the young men and young women of his own age, and

the progress made with the "Messiah" was well-nigh nil. However, it is to Klopstock's sojourn there, that we owe some of his

[Pg 338]

fine odes, especially that on Zurich lake. But meanwhile Bodmer's

friendship had cooled, and Klopstock went to the house (in Zurich

itself) of Hartmann Rahn, who later on married the poet's sister. With

this same Rahn was some years afterwards associated the

philosopher Fichte, when he lived at Zurich (1788). Fichte in fact

married Rahn's daughter, Johanna. In 1752, Wieland[82] repaid Bodmer for his previous disappointments, by staying with him for

some two years.

Bodmer's zeal for the advance of literature was unremitting. Though

he could not himself boast of much poetic genius, he was a prolific

writer in both prose and verse. His great merit is his bringing to light

again the fine old mediæval poetry long since forgotten. The

manuscript of the "Minnesänger" and the famous "Nibelungen" he had dug up from the lumber-room of Hohenems Castle. He moved

heaven and earth to obtain royal protection and patronage for

German literature. But little did he gain at the court of the great

Frederick. To Müller, who presented the "Nibelungen," his majesty

replied in characteristic fashion that the piece was not worth a single

"charge of powder." Not less characteristic was Voltaire's reply when

a request was made for the royal favour to Klopstock. "A new

'Messiah' is too much of a good thing, the old one has not been read

yet."

Bodmer's influence on the young man of parts is noticeable. He

gathered round him a large following of young Zürcher who had a

taste for letters.

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Crowds of them would accompany him in his evening walks in the

avenue Platzspitz, drinking in his words of wit and wisdom. Of the

disciples thus gathered round "Father" Bodmer—for so he was

affectionately styled—some attained no little eminence in later life.

Amongst them we may mention Sulzer, who became art professor at

Berlin, and stood in high favour with the king; and Solomon Gessner,

the painter poet, whose word pictures are hardly less beautiful than

the productions of his brush. His "Idylls," published in 1756, gave him

a European reputation. The work was translated into all the literary

languages, and in France and Italy was read with great eagerness, a

first edition in French being sold out within a fortnight. Another

important work is Hirzel's "Kleinjogg," or the "Socrates of the Fields."

In this Hirzel, who was a physician and a philanthropist, brings to the

fore the despised peasantry. "Kleinjogg" is not a work of fiction solely,

but an account of Jakob Gujer who lived in a small Zurich village.

Jakob was a man of great intelligence, indomitable resolution, and

practical wisdom, who by his admirable management raised a

wretched country home into a model farm. Goethe, who on a visit ate

at his table, was delighted with the philosophic peasant, and called

him "one of the most delicious creatures earth ever produced."

Heinrich Pestalozzi, the philanthropist, but better known for his efforts

in the cause of education, was also a Zurich man. His principles of

education are embodied in his novel of rural life, "Lienhard and

Gertrude" (1781). His ideas are partly borrowed

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from Rousseau, but he failed to realize them in practice. The work at

once won for Pestalozzi European fame. Ludwig Meyer von Knonau,

a country magnate, was a poet and a painter, and wrote "Fables."

Johannes Casper Lavater, Bodmer's favourite pupil, stirred to their

depth the patriotic feelings of his countrymen by his famous

"Schweizerlieder," which he composed for the Helvetic Society, in

1767. Indeed literary tastes seem to have been very prevalent

amongst the Swiss at that time. More of Winkelmann's great work on

Æsthetics were sold in Zurich and Basel then would in our own day

probably be sold in such cities as Berlin and Vienna. And Solothurn,

we find, produced thrice as many subscribers to Goethe's works as

the great cities just mentioned.

LAVATER.

[