of the facts given above it seems improbable that the Perlesvaus was composed at any great interval from the rebuilding of St. Mary's as the Lady Chapel, in 1184, and the interment of the supposed Arthur and Guenevere there, in 1191, both of which events the romance reflects, as we have seen. Finally, the vaus d'Avaron of Robert de Borron and the grant valée in the Perlesvaus' description of Avalon obviously represent the same locality. The University of Chicago.

text. Incidentally, let me say that Suchier's statement (op. cit., 169) is incorrect; Hatton 82 is in many respects a more nearly complete мs of the Perlesvaus than the Brussels text.

uilding of St. interment of the 1191, both of which

e seen. Finally, the vaus ne grant valée in the Perlesy represent the same locality.

THE MYSTICISM OF NOVALIS

BY WALTER D. TOY

I

AN INTERPRETATION OF DIE HYMNEN AN DIE NACHT

It was the opinion of Friedrich von Hardenberg, who wrote under the name of Novalis, that the writings of any man should be judged as an embodiment of the character of the man; that the established record of his life was a safer guide for the value of his writings than a mere critical examination of those writings themselves.

Important as was Novalis' contribution to the literature of German Romanticism, he preferred to think of himself as a man, not as a writer; and in his case, especially, it is helpful, in interpreting his most finished work, Die Hymnen an die Nacht, to keep clearly in mind the principles which guided his life.

Novalis was the great mystic of the Romantic School. His mysticism was not acquired as the result of abstract study of religion or theology, it was a necessary part of his being. In his case mysticism means a turning away from the interests of everyday life to those of the spiritual world. The world of the spirit was for him the real world, and yet he was trained as a lawyer and spent his life in effective service.

Without any element of dissimulation he led a double life; on the one side, as a thoroughly conscientious official, with acceptable social gifts and evident sympathy with worldly pleasures; on the other side he was a mystic dreamer, living in the world of the spirit.

This dual nature of Novalis is to be explained by the fact that he was essentially a man of intense spirituality. Left to follow his own inclinations he would doubtless have given himself wholly to poetry, that is, to the expression of his deep feeling. In so doing he would have been in sympathy with other Romanticists, for whom practical matters of every day life had no interest. But he was also by nature thorough-going and conscientious. Judging it necessary to adopt a recognized calling, he trained himself honestly for the law and later did valuable service as an official in the salt mines of Freiberg.

14

Under such conditions the impulses of his spiritual nature were for a long time held in check, until circumstances in his life brought them into full play. Such circumstances were offered by the death of his fiancée, Sophie von Kühn.

It may be that the devotion of Novalis to this young girl was from the beginning a dominant factor in his life; but this does not appear likely. What seems more certain is that during her sickness she became for him the object of his deepest affection. Her suffering and helplessness made the strongest appeal to him. He once said: "For Sophie I feel religion, not love. The office of religion is to suffer [to have sympathy] with the deity. If we are to love God, he must need our help."

So in her sickness Sophie became the dominating influence of his life. When she died, he felt that the whole world was a barren spot. He even resolved to die. Here was no thought of suicide, but merely of relinquishing by power of will his hold on earthly life, in order to enter upon the larger life of the spirit and so to live forever with his lost friend.

Attention has been called to the dual character of Novalis' life. While he was absolutely assured of Sophie's continued existence in the spiritual world and even began himself to live in that world, he continued to lead the life of a normal man. His diary, in which the days are numbered from the day of Sophie's death, contains nothing morbid. Its author was plainly holding his place in the every day world, while he reserved for himself a sacred allegiance to the other better world.

In his diary is recorded with perfect calmness how Novalis had a dream or vision at Sophie's grave. He embodied this experience in the Third of his Hymns to the Night. As he gazed upon the last resting place of his beloved, he seemed to be lifted from the earth. The world of Day vanished, he was united with Sophie forever and became a part of the spiritual world. It was after this experience that he resolved to give up the world of Day.

With this inspiration Novalis gave himself, in his meditations, wholly to the other world, the real world, unrestricted by earthly limitations. Sophie became the symbol, the representative of the world of Night. She is the Divine Maiden of the mystics; Böhme's lost Eve; identified with Christ or, at any rate, like Christ, the guide of all humanity in its search for its lost spirituality.