Latest topics
» புதுக்கவிதைகள் - ரசித்தவை (தொடர் பதிவு)by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:51 pm
» யார் காலையும் பிடித்ததில்லை...!
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:48 pm
» இன்றைய செய்திகள்- ஆகஸ்ட் 21
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:47 pm
» ஆன்மீக சிந்தனை
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:45 pm
» எமிலி டிக்கன்சனின் பொன்மொழிகள்
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:43 pm
» சங்கடங்களைப் போக்கும் சதுர்த்தி விரதம்
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:33 pm
» குளிர் சுரத்தை விரட்டும் மூலிகை -
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 9:31 pm
» கருத்துப்படம் 21/08/2024
by mohamed nizamudeen Yesterday at 8:30 pm
» செய்யும் தொழிலே தெய்வம்
by Rathinavelu Yesterday at 5:13 pm
» ஸ்ரீமத் பாகவதம் - பகவான் விஷ்ணுவின் பெருமை காவியம் .
by balki1949 Yesterday at 3:21 pm
» நாவல்கள் வேண்டும்
by Abiraj_26 Yesterday at 10:46 am
» பெண்ணும் இனிப்பும்
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 8:44 am
» யார் இந்த கிளியோபாட்ரா..
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 8:41 am
» திடீர் பாயாசம்
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 8:38 am
» பழைமையில் தான் எத்துனை நிறைவு!!
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 8:37 am
» ஈகரை வருகை பதிவேடு
by ayyasamy ram Yesterday at 8:35 am
» சுசீலா பாடிய சிறப்பு பாட்டுக்கள் - வீடியோ
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 7:12 pm
» நிலா பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:36 pm
» தோழி - தோழர் நட்பு பாட்டு
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:18 pm
» சினிமா கலைஞர்கள் பாடிய பாட்டு
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:01 pm
» படித்ததில் ரசித்தது
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 5:25 pm
» ஆனந்தம் தானாக அமையும்.
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 5:23 pm
» நடிகை, நடிகர்கள் மாறு வேஷத்துல நடிச்ச பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 5:21 pm
» தமிழ் சினிமால ஜாலியா பாட்டு பாடிட்டே பயணம் செஞ்ச பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 5:02 pm
» ஒரே படத்ல ரெண்டு ஹீரோயின் ஹீரோ சேந்து நடிச்ச படங்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 4:28 pm
» ரெண்டு, மூணு ரோல்ல நடிச்ச நடிகை, நடிகர்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 2:15 pm
» அழகான, சிங்காரமான அலங்கார அழகு பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 1:17 pm
» ஒரு படத்தில ரெண்டு தடவ வந்த ஒரே பாட்டு
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 12:42 pm
» கொழந்தைங்க, சின்ன புள்ளைங்க நடிச்ச பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 12:26 pm
» இன்றைய செய்திகள்- ஆகஸ்ட் 20
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 11:59 am
» பல்சுவை தகவல் - படித்ததில் பிடித்தது
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 11:57 am
» காமெடி நடிகை - நடிகர்கள் நடிச்ச பாட்டு
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 11:48 am
» உமா ரமணன் பாடல்கள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 10:39 am
» நிலவோடு வான்முகம் வான்முகில்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 10:31 am
» அன்பின் கதை... படித்ததில் பிடித்தது!
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:26 am
» உங்க சிரிப்பே சொல்லுதுண்ணே…!!!
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:18 am
» முடா ஊழல் விவகாரம்: ஆளுநர் அனுமதியை எதிர்த்து முதல்வர் சித்தராமையா வழக்கு
by ayyasamy ram Tue Aug 20, 2024 6:11 am
» தமிழ் சினிமாவில் இடம் பெற்ற கதாகாலட்சேபங்கள் மற்றும் தெருக்கூத்து, மேடை நிகழ்ச்சிகள்
by heezulia Tue Aug 20, 2024 12:00 am
» தமிழ் படங்களின் டைட்டில் பாட்டுக்கள்
by heezulia Mon Aug 19, 2024 8:35 pm
» கண்ணகி மதுரையை ஏன் எரித்தாள்..!
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 3:13 pm
» பான் இந்தியா ஸ்டார் ஆகிறார்…
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:29 pm
» ஜானுக்கு தமன்னா பாராட்டு
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:27 pm
» கதைக்கு தேவைப்பட்டால் கிளாமர்
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:27 pm
» இன்னொரு மாலைப்பொழுதிற்காக…
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:24 pm
» காதல் தேவதை
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:23 pm
» புத்தகம் படிப்பதேயில்லை…!
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:22 pm
» கனிந்த காதல் அந்தாதி
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:21 pm
» சந்திப்பு - புதுக்கவிதை
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:20 pm
» கிராமமல்ல சொர்க்கம்!
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:18 pm
» திருநங்கைகளின் வலி
by ayyasamy ram Mon Aug 19, 2024 1:15 pm
Top posting users this week
ayyasamy ram |
| |||
heezulia |
| |||
mohamed nizamudeen |
| |||
Rathinavelu |
| |||
Abiraj_26 |
| |||
mini |
| |||
balki1949 |
|
Top posting users this month
ayyasamy ram |
| |||
heezulia |
| |||
mohamed nizamudeen |
| |||
prajai |
| |||
T.N.Balasubramanian |
| |||
Abiraj_26 |
| |||
சுகவனேஷ் |
| |||
mini |
| |||
ஆனந்திபழனியப்பன் |
| |||
Guna.D |
|
நிகழ்நிலை நிர்வாகிகள்
ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
+3
மஞ்சுபாஷிணி
அன்பு தளபதி
ஆத்மசூரியன்
7 posters
Page 2 of 6
Page 2 of 6 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
First topic message reminder :
ஆங்கிலேயர்களால் பிரித்தாள்வதற்காக தோற்றுவிக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகள் இன்றும் நம் பாடபுத்தகங்களை ஆக்கிரமித்துள்ளது.
ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகளுக்கு எதிரான வாதங்கள் சிலவற்றை பார்போம்.
1. வேதங்கள் ஆரியர் என்ற வார்த்தையை மனிதர்கள் பின்பற்றக்கூடிய உயரிய குணங்களை உடையவர் என்றே கூறுகிறது.
2. வேதங்களில் ஆரியர் எந்த வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்தும் வந்ததாக தெரிவிக்கவில்லை.
3. 1946 ல் அம்பேத்காரல் எழுதப்பட்ட " யார் சூத்திரர்கள்" என்ற நூலில் மேற்க்கத்தியர்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை பல விஷயங்களை விளக்க தவறி இருக்கிறது. இது முன்னமே உருவாக்கப்பட்டு அதற்கெற்றார் போல் சூழ்நிலைகள் உருவாக்கப்பட்டுள்ளன. என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.
4. சுவாமி விவேகானந்தர் அமெரிக்காவில் ஆற்றிய சொற்பொழிவில் பின்வருமாறு கூறியுள்ளார் "உங்களது ஐரோப்பிய பண்டிதர்கள் கூறுவது போல் ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்தியாவிலுள்ள ஆதி குடிமக்களை வென்று அதிகாரம் செலுத்தினர் என்பது முட்டாள் தனமான பேச்சாகும். இதில் வேடிக்கையானது என்னவென்றால் எங்கள் இந்திய பண்டிதர்களும் அவர்களுக்கு ஆமாம் போடுவது தான்" .
5. அரவிந்தர் அவரது வேதங்களின் ரகசியம் எனும் நூலில் " ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை அதன் தரத்தில் மிகவும் குறைவாகவும் அதன் முக்கியதுவத்தில் நிச்சயமற்றதாகவும் உள்ளது. அதை பற்றிய எந்த ஒரு உண்மையும் முழுமையாக விவரிக்கப்படவில்லை" என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.
6. ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்சதரோ வில் பல ஆயிரம் வருடங்களுக்கு முன்பே நாகரிகங்கள் இருந்ததாக கூறப்படுகிறது . இதை வைதத்து பார்க்கும் பொது ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்த நவீன நகரங்களையும் கலாசாரங்களையும் அழித்திருப்பார் என்று கூறமுடியாது.
7. மேலும் ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்ச்சாதரோவில் பசுபதி எனும் சிவனை வழிபட்டுள்ளனர். அங்கு கண்டுபிடிக்கப்பட்ட சின்னங்களும் இந்து சமயம் சார்ந்ததாகவே உள்ளது. 5000 வருடங்களுக்கு முனதாகவே அதாவது ஆரியர் வந்தனர் என கூறப்படும் காலத்திற்க்கு முன்னதாகவே இந்து சமயம் இந்தியாவில் இருந்தது. எனவே வெளிநாட்டவர் இந்தியா வந்தனர் இந்து சமயத்தை பரப்பினர் என்று கூற வாய்பேயில்லை.
ஆங்கிலேயர்களால் பிரித்தாள்வதற்காக தோற்றுவிக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகள் இன்றும் நம் பாடபுத்தகங்களை ஆக்கிரமித்துள்ளது.
ஆரியர்களின் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கைகளுக்கு எதிரான வாதங்கள் சிலவற்றை பார்போம்.
1. வேதங்கள் ஆரியர் என்ற வார்த்தையை மனிதர்கள் பின்பற்றக்கூடிய உயரிய குணங்களை உடையவர் என்றே கூறுகிறது.
2. வேதங்களில் ஆரியர் எந்த வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்தும் வந்ததாக தெரிவிக்கவில்லை.
3. 1946 ல் அம்பேத்காரல் எழுதப்பட்ட " யார் சூத்திரர்கள்" என்ற நூலில் மேற்க்கத்தியர்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை பல விஷயங்களை விளக்க தவறி இருக்கிறது. இது முன்னமே உருவாக்கப்பட்டு அதற்கெற்றார் போல் சூழ்நிலைகள் உருவாக்கப்பட்டுள்ளன. என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.
4. சுவாமி விவேகானந்தர் அமெரிக்காவில் ஆற்றிய சொற்பொழிவில் பின்வருமாறு கூறியுள்ளார் "உங்களது ஐரோப்பிய பண்டிதர்கள் கூறுவது போல் ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்தியாவிலுள்ள ஆதி குடிமக்களை வென்று அதிகாரம் செலுத்தினர் என்பது முட்டாள் தனமான பேச்சாகும். இதில் வேடிக்கையானது என்னவென்றால் எங்கள் இந்திய பண்டிதர்களும் அவர்களுக்கு ஆமாம் போடுவது தான்" .
5. அரவிந்தர் அவரது வேதங்களின் ரகசியம் எனும் நூலில் " ஆரியர் ஆக்கிரமிப்பு கொள்கை அதன் தரத்தில் மிகவும் குறைவாகவும் அதன் முக்கியதுவத்தில் நிச்சயமற்றதாகவும் உள்ளது. அதை பற்றிய எந்த ஒரு உண்மையும் முழுமையாக விவரிக்கப்படவில்லை" என்று கூறியுள்ளார்.
6. ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்சதரோ வில் பல ஆயிரம் வருடங்களுக்கு முன்பே நாகரிகங்கள் இருந்ததாக கூறப்படுகிறது . இதை வைதத்து பார்க்கும் பொது ஆரியர்கள் வெளிநாட்டிலிருந்து வந்து இந்த நவீன நகரங்களையும் கலாசாரங்களையும் அழித்திருப்பார் என்று கூறமுடியாது.
7. மேலும் ஹரப்பா மற்றும் மோகஞ்ச்சாதரோவில் பசுபதி எனும் சிவனை வழிபட்டுள்ளனர். அங்கு கண்டுபிடிக்கப்பட்ட சின்னங்களும் இந்து சமயம் சார்ந்ததாகவே உள்ளது. 5000 வருடங்களுக்கு முனதாகவே அதாவது ஆரியர் வந்தனர் என கூறப்படும் காலத்திற்க்கு முன்னதாகவே இந்து சமயம் இந்தியாவில் இருந்தது. எனவே வெளிநாட்டவர் இந்தியா வந்தனர் இந்து சமயத்தை பரப்பினர் என்று கூற வாய்பேயில்லை.
ஆத்மசூரியன்- பண்பாளர்
- பதிவுகள் : 96
இணைந்தது : 03/03/2011
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
‘ Wilhelm Miiller’s life in Dessau was a very happy one,’ wrote his friend, the poet Gustav Schwab ; ‘ he was valued by his Duke and Duchess . . . devotedly loved by his pupils, and a favourite with all who had once recognized his character and nature ; he had a clever, attractive wife, and healthy, handsome children, to whom he was a most devoted father, and with whom he would play for hours like a merry child himself Though only thirty-three when he died, he had achieved a considerable amount of work, and evidently possessed the power of working rapidly, a power inherited by his son. The end to this happy life came with frightful suddenness. Wilhelm Miiller had been to Oranienbaum, a park near Dessau, to see the Duke, and returned late, in high spirits. In the night his young wife woke to find him dead by her side ! The awful shock is supposed to have brought on the deafness from which she soon began to suffer, and which became total many years before her death. Adelheid Miiller, who had only a small pension as the widow of a civil servant, went for a time with her two children to live in her father’s house, the house she had left but a few years before as a brilliant, happy bride.
But Wilhelm Miiller’s widow had not been forgotten by his friend and patron, and shortly after his death she received the following letter from the Duke of Dessau : —
1827] Early Childhood 3
Translation.
‘ Whilst I wish again to express my sincere sympathy in the great loss you have sustained, I am anxious in some degree to lessen the cares which the education of your children must bring, and I therefore grant you, as long as you remain a widow, the yearly sum of 100 thalers^ till your son has completed his twenty-first year, and then for your life the sum of fifty thalers, to begin from the first of this month. I beg to assure you of the continuance of my true esteem. Leopold.
‘Nov. 30, 1827.’
Max Miiller tells us in his Autobiography of the gloom cast over his whole childhood by his father’s death. Happily he had inherited much of that father’s joyous temperament, so that the almost daily visits to the grave ‘ where the young mother stood and sobbed and cried ‘ whilst her two children looked on, had less effect on him than might be expected ; and the constant intercourse with various friends and relations brightened what would otherwise have been a time of dark memory for his whole life. The few left who remember those early days agree in describing Max Miiller as brimful of fun and mischief, and his mother’s old servant Hanna, who lived to a great age and was never tired of asking for news of her former torment, used in those early days to call him Dieser infanie Jtmge, ‘ this terrible boy.’
After some years, Hofrathin Miiller left her father’s home and settled herself and her two children on the ground floor of a very small house. This house, though altered and im- proved, is still standing, a type of the old style of Dessau houses, consisting of a ground floor and one story above, with a loft under the high-pitched brown roof. The house looks into the churchyard of the Johannis Kirche, the church men- tioned in Deutsche Liebe, where the effect of the Easter hymn on the musical child is so vividly described : —
Translation.
‘ On this Easter Day ... the old church, with its grey slate roof,
and the high windows, and the tower with the golden cross, shone
with marvellous brightness. Suddenly the light which streamed
through the high windows began to wave and seem alive. But it
B 2
4 Love of Music [ch. i
was far too bright to look at ; and as I shut my eyes, the light still came into my soul, and everything seemed to shine and be fragrant, and to sing and sound. I felt as if a new life began in me, as if I had become another being — and when I asked my mother what it was, she said it was an Easter hymn, which they were singing in the church. I have never been able to discover what was the pure holy song which then sank into my soul, ... I have never heard it again. But now when I hear an adagio of Beethoven, or a psalm of JMarcello, or a chorus of Handel ... I feel as if the lofty church windows were again sparkling, as if the organ notes rang through my soul and a new world opened to me.’
It is needless to repeat all that Max Miiller has told us in Aitld Lang Syne and the Autobiography of the life at Dessau, and the appearance of the little Resident- Stadt (capital) at that time, still walled in, and with gates shut every night, its night watchman, and the oil lamps swinging across the streets. The night watchman and the oil lamps existed till late in the century. And yet with these primitive arrangements and simple life the little town was a centre of intellectual interest and cultivation. Music, such as one hears now only in a great capital ; a first-rate theatre, as far as the acting and opera were concerned ; real intellectual society, which hardly exists in our hurried modern life — were all to be found at Dessau, and enjoyed at so modest a cost that they were within reach of all.
Those who remember Max MUller’s pianoforte playing
when he first came to England will not be surprised to hear
that his musical training began very early, and before he went
to any school. A young musician who lived next door taught
him to play, as a surprise to his mother. They had made
friends over the hedge that divided their gardens, and after
the musician had discovered the little fellow’s genuine love of
music he lifted him daily over the hedge, and gave him his
lesson. For months the child kept the secret, till at last one
day he sat down before several friends and played his first
piece. There are easy sonatas of Beethoven with his name
on them and the date, showing that he was only six years
old when he learnt them. At fourteen he played brilliantly,
and took part in concerts at Dessau and Leipzig, and when at
home for the holidays was often sent for by the Duchess of
i83o] Gathy 5
Dessau, who was herself a fine musician, to play duets with her on the piano. Whilst still quite a child he was invited to any good music that was given in Dessau. One note written by a Dr. Otta, about the year 1831, runs thus : —
Trayislatmi.
‘ In the hopes of giving you pleasure, I take the liberty of inviting you to hear the quintette to be played to-night at my house. I trust your mother will kindly give you permission.’
The note is addressed to —
The distinguished Musician
Master Max Miiller.
When Max was only six years old Mendelssohn visited Dessau, and taking the child into the large church set him on his lap at the organ and made him play the keys, whilst he himself managed the pedals, which the little boy could not reach.
Many of Wilhelm Miiller’s old friends took an interest in his lively attractive boy.
There is a charming letter dated Saturday, July 31, 1830, from M. Gathy, to whose friendship Max Miiller owed a good deal in later years in Paris : —
Transla/w?t.
‘As I could not, my good Max, have you, as I wished, last Sunday for a long visit, I keep you to your promise and invite you and your dear little sister to have breakfast with me to-morrow at half-past eight, hoping that you will both receive permission to do so. If you paid me a visit in Hamburg, I could show you many beautiful things — toys of every sort, and particularly the most beautiful coloured tin soldiers, which would delight you. But I have left them all at home, and the hobby-horse and dolls and toys I have here would not amuse you. Toys are delightful — are they not, Max ? — when one receives them from one’s loved parents; but other things^ that one must be busy with, for other reasons, when one is older, are not nearly so pretty, or so nice to play with. Besides my brave tin soldiers, I had three beautiful collections of pictures, and flowers and butterflies. But one cannot always keep, my good Max, what one has, and, alas ! everything does not last as one would wish.
Everything is perishable, everything changes, and that is a great
pity. Now, I still have all the pictures. I carry them about with me,
yet I cannot show them to you ; but the flowers are all withered, and
6 First School [ch. i
mostly turned to dust, and my lovely coloured butterflies turn at last into crickets ^, which do not look so pretty or so pleasant. So it is with my toys, my good Max. But it does not matter ; I will be like my little soldiers, which were always my greatest delight. They stood up firmly, without knowing why, and let themselves be seized and pushed about on every side, and fought bravely and never com- plained. And when evening came they were gathered together and placed quietly in the dark cupboard, and there was peace. But don’t be frightened, Max : come here and bring your fine sword with you; we will play and talk with each other, and from the window nod to your dear mother, as I always like to do, as she goes by to church, to pray the good God that you may always be a courteous, kind, good boy, and learn diligently and thrive to your own good, and her pleasure. Adieu, dear Max ; you are expected then by your friend Gathy.’
It is doubtful whether, inborn poet as he was, Max M tiller could at six and a half have understood the beauty and pathos of this letter from the little deformed Jew.
Max entered the Gymnasium or High School at Dessau at six years old, and remained there till he was past twelve. His school reports were not remarkable, and certainly at that time he gave little evidence of the power that was in him. ‘Writing bad’ was the almost invariable report, and in later years he often lamented the small pains taken by the writing- master to improve it. An old schoolfellow, still living at Dessau, writes that all the other boys considered him a clever boy. ‘ He was full of life and much loved by all his schoolfellows.’
To our ideas the life led by the little Max was one of considerable hardship. Thinly clad and poorly fed, not from want of care and love, but from sheer poverty, his breath in winter frozen into a sheet of ice on his bed from the absence of fire, suffering from constant headaches, which may have originated from want of full nourishment such as a growing child needs, and yet nothing seems to have clouded his naturally sunny, joyous temperament. He tells us : ‘As a little boy, when I could not have the same toys which other boys possessed I could fully enjoy what they enjoyed, as if they had been my own. It was not the result of teaching, ^ A play on the word Grillen, which means crickets, and worries.
1835] Frugal Training 7
still less of reasoning — it was a sentiment given me, and which certainly did not leave me till much later in life.’
He remembered how constantly he was enjoined to take care of his clothes and make them last : and when he and his sister returned from school the boots that cost so much were put away and replaced by shoes made for them by the careful mother. It was this frugal training, this life of constant self- denial and careful thought for every trifle, that gave Max Miiller in after life the feeling of thankfulness, and the power of rejoicing in every little luxury and pleasure which he could afford himself. To the very last ‘ the child’s pure delight in little things ‘ gave a constant zest to his life, and made it easy for others to give him pleasure. Through his whole life he took every good thing, every honour that he received, as a gift he had not deserved. Some of his critics, who never knew him personally, speak of his vanity, because he dwelt with pleasure and gratitude on the honours and successes that came to him in later life. Any really vain man would have shrunk from showing his enjoyment of the good things that fell to him, for fear of being thought vain. One who knew him well mentions his entire freedom from vanity as a prominent point in his character. There is a mock humility more akin to vanity than the grateful rejoicing in all blessings (his own talents included) which was a characteristic of Max Miiller’s whole life. It is true that he greatly valued and even desired the love and approbation so largely accorded him, but this arose from his loving nature, which craved for sympathy, and not from vanity.
One more glimpse is given us of the early life in a letter from his von Basedow grandmother. His mother had gone in the early summer of 1835 with some friends to Heligoland; and she took her daughter with her, leaving Max at his grand- father’s to go to his school. The Frau Prasident writes to her absent daughter : —
Translation.
‘ 6 a.m. My dear Adelheid, — The father is out riding, Max is having his music lesson, Julie is still asleep, and I am sitting in the garden, in the summer-house, where we breakfast every morning.
I think that I cannot employ my time better than in writing to you,
8 God’s Acre, Dessau [ch. i
to give you an account of us all, for Max now belongs to us. We are all, down to the youngest, quite well, thank God. Max is very good and diligent, and has given no occasion for punishment. He bathes regularly, either with Fritz or our servant, but never alone. I am much too nervous to allow that. Just now he goes with Julie, who bathes every other day in the Mulde. We shall miss him very much when he leaves us, he has become quite one of us. You would be amused if you saw him smoking a pipe with his grandfather. He can also take a pinch of snuff, and he does not refuse a taste of liqueur. The father has a very quiet horse on which he can ride alone, so you will find him quite a grown-up man in all the finer arts. His trousers indeed have a very variegated appearance from cherries, bilberries, and ink, but a young man does not think much of that.’
We have spoken of Max MUller as an inborn poet, and in later life he told a friend he had all his life tried not to be a poet. From the early age of nine he began to write verses, all of which were carefully kept by his devoted mother. They are verses written for Christmas, or family birthdays, but one on the beautiful God’s Acre at Dessau attempts a higher flight.
‘ It is a beautiful and restful place,’ he says in the Auto- biography, ‘ covered with old acacia trees.’ It was probably this association that gave Max Miiller a peculiar love for acacia trees, and it was a real grief to him when one that stood in the Parks close to his house in Norham Gardens withered and died. He tells us that the inscription over the gateway of the God’s Acre was a puzzle to his young mind : ‘ Death is not death, ‘tis but the ennobling of man’s nature.’ It may have been the echo of these words in his mind that made him in 1884, in writing to one of his Buddhist pupils, speak of ‘ looking forward to a better life —
I mean a life in which we shall be better.’ When at school at Leipzig he constantly wrote poems in the letters he sent his mother, and there were three occasions at his school at Leipzig where he had to recite publicly verses of his own writing. There is a whole book full of manuscript sonnets and poems written during his University career, some of which were published at the time in journals and papers, and brought in a little money, most acceptable to the poor student.
During the hard battle with life in Paris and London, the
1836] Nicolai School 9
muse seems to have been silent. A few beautiful sonnets exist, written later under the pressure of great sorrow, but his life was too full of other work, to which he was pledged to devote his time, for him to indulge in poetry, and except two sonnets to the Emperor Frederick (1871 and 1888), and an ode on the death of the Duke of Albany, nothing exists written in later years but a ^q^ birthday couplets. Max Miiller never published any of his poems, except in his University days.
After his grandfather’s death Max was sent, at Easter, 1836, to the famous Nicolai School at Leipzig. He lived in the house of Dr. Carus, an old family friend, whose only son, Victor, was of the same age. * Max was taken as a friend,’ writes Professor Victor Carus, ‘ and was treated entirely as a son of the family. Aunt Muller, as his mother was called by all of us, never paid anything, as my parents were intimate friends of hers. We went together to the Nicolai School, we slept in the same room, worked together, and had, in fact, everything in common.’ Max was placed in Quarta, which answers to Remove at Eton. The education was almost entirely classical, and before he left the school, five years later, he could speak Latin with perfect ease. He was able to hear a great deal of good music at Leipzig, Frau Carus herself being very musical, with a fine voice, and she and Dr. Carus delighted in collecting the best musicians at their house. Victor Carus was a good violinist, and when the two young friends, Victor and Max, were about fifteen years old, they astonished Dr. Carus on his birthday by playing the whole Kreutzer Sonata by heart.
There had long been an intimate friendship between the Mendelssohns and Max Muller’s parents, therefore he naturally saw much of Felix Mendelssohn, who was conductor of the Gewandhaus Concerts at Leipzig from 1835 to 1843. He thus describes his first musical evening to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I went on Friday to Mendelssohn’s, and already on the staircase
heard the lovely music. I went in bravely ^, and was received in the
^ He was little over thirteen.
lo Music at Leipzig [ch. i
most friendly manner. I found Felix, David, Dreischock, and Mendelssohn’s sister Fanny. Hensel was very kind, so was she ; both spoke of you. and Hensel of my father too, whom he admired immensely. Mendelssohn stood close to the piano, and I sat where I could watch Dreischock with great comfort. He is still the first of pianists, and quite a young man. He played here last winter and was taken for Thalberg. He played really marvellously, so that Mendelssohn wondered at his skill, though he (Felix) immediately afterwards played an imitation of his composition. I must say, I much prefer Mendelssohn, even if the other has more skill, particularly in octave playing, in which he is decidedly the first of artists. Then Hensel told me a delightful story. They had already last Wednesday sent here for me, but Sophie did not understand the maid, and sent her to Dr. Miiller, who lives behind this in the Garden house. And so he went in the evening, beautifully got up, and nobody knew him, or what to say to him. That was funny.’
Later, he writes thus of Thalberg : —
Translation.
‘Now I have seen and heard Thalberg. It was yesterday even- ing. It is indescribable. I am still perfectly enchanted by it ; there can be nothing else like it. He is quite young, handsome, and very distinguished looking, beautiful hands and such skill, execution, and power.’
From the time he went to Leipzig, Max Miiller began the correspondence with his passionately loved mother, which continued till the year of her death, 1883. Almost every letter has been kept, and the whole forms a complete journal of his doings when not with her. With his ardent affection for her, he felt the separation keenly, and writes on the first birthday on which he was not with her, as follows : —
Translatioft. Oct. 10, 1836.
‘ My dear good Mother, — To-day, for the first time, I have to be far away from you on your birthday, and you can fancy how sorry I am. I think it grieves 5’ou too, little mother, for I know your love for me. Oh, how I long to be with you, only for a moment, only to press you in my arms, only to tell you how I love you : but it can’t be.
Your birthday is always doubly dear to me, first because it is your
birthday, and then because it was the first day that you roused yourself
again from your sorrow ^, to which just in these weeks of the year you
‘ W. Miiller died Oct. I ; her birthday was Oct. 12.
1839] Letters to his Mother 11
gave way more than usually. You were right to grieve, and it would not have been proper to try to console and amuse you. You must have sorrowed this year more than usual, as the birthday of our good grandfather was this week. But I will not write more about this ; it will but renew your sorrow. I will only say that God has replaced something of what you have lost, in giving you two beings who love you as no others do. You best know whom I mean.
‘Your Max.’
These early letters to his mother show a maturity of thought and earnestness of purpose that are very unusual in so young a boy ; and as life went on the relations of mother and son seem changed, and it is the son who takes the guiding and protecting tone towards the mother.
In March, 1839, Dr. Carus lost his wife, who had watched over Max with the same motherly care she gave to her own boy. His grief at the time, and his later letters, prove how sorely he missed her. In one letter he gives his mother an account of his day, which would probably have been laid out more wisely had the kind Tmite (aunt) been still there to watch over him.
Translation.
‘ You will be surprised to hear that I have arranged everything for certain fixed hours, but I am very glad to have settled it so that I am not interrupted. I get up at five, or even earlier, and work till seven, go to school, play the violoncello at eleven, the piano at twelve, then dinner, then school again, then coffee and gymnastic exercises, then work again till I can get fresh air in the garden, which is impossible in this heat, during the day. I seem quite changed to myself, and you know that such punctual arrangements were not at all in my line. I eat only a roll from five in the morning till one o’clock, and drink no coffee early, and I often feel rather faint. Then for the last week I have had constant headaches, but I am getting quite accustomed to them, and I lead a very happy life.’
In the last years of his school life he seems to have read a good deal for himself, and discusses the books he reads with his mother.
7 rans la/ton.
‘ I had already said to myself that you would not be pleased that
I had read Wilhelm Meisier, and in some respects you are quite right ;
not that it can exactly hurt me, but that it might occupy my thoughts
12
Dresden [ch. i
too much. On the evil influence of reading or other temptations, I could not point out any better passage than the Latin verse in Faust which Mephistopheles repeats to the student, that God is holy and good just because He knows what evil is. This is very true if only further explained, i. e. because He knows evil, but never commits it. If we could imagine that God did not know what sin and temptation are, we could not call Him God, for we should have an imperfect God. . . . The more dangerous things I read, the stronger I become, if I am not mistaken, to wage war with them. And yet again what you say is true, for how foolhardy it would be to throw oneself into temptations without thoroughly knowing oneself, and how far one could stand firm. So a desire for dangerous reading is in itself a crime.’
And again —
Translation.
‘ I have had a great deal of pleasure from Bettina von Arnim’s letters and diary. It is full of beautiful feeling and well expressed, though towards the end it is weaker, for there it becomes laboured ; at first it just bubbles up of its own accord.’
Though Max Miiller tells us he had little chance of travelling during his school days, there is a journal of three days spent at Dresden and in a walking tour through Saxon Switzerland at Whitsuntide, 1839, when he was fifteen and a half years old. This visit gave him his first sight of really great works of art, for though there are some choice pieces of sculpture and a few good pictures at Dessau, the little capital naturally possesses nothing quite of the first rank. ‘ It was perfect enchantment,’ he says, ‘ to step into the Raphael room^ where the great Madonna standing on the globe shines down upon us, a picture that far exceeds all one’s imagination, and stands there, the crown of all pictures.’ The same feeling animated him in 1857, when he wrote in Deutsche Liebe ; ‘To stand before the Madonna di San Sisto in Dresden, and to allow all the thoughts to wake in us, which year after year the unfathomable look of the child has created in us.’
From reasons of economy he was not always able to spend his holidays at Dessau with his mother and sister, as we see from the following little note dated ‘ Silvester Evening,’ that is December 31, probably 1839 : —
1841 J Examination 13
Translation.
• How often I wish that I were so far advanced that I could myself earn something to make your life easier — you who deprive yourself of everything and spare everything to make us happy. But I will try to be more and more diligent, and better, that, as far as I can, I may give you pleasure, which is the only possible return for all your love and care.’
Max Miiller had to pass his abiturienten examination in the early spring of 1841 at Zerbst, in order to gain a Dessau scholarship for the University. This examination was more scientific than classical, but he passed easily, taking a first class, and gained his scholarship, such as it was — £6 — a mere trifle to English ideas, but an important help to him. Before the examination, Dr. Nobbe, the head master of the Nicolai School, wrote thus of him to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I rejoice that I can see him leave this school with testimonials of moral excellence not often found in one of his years, possessed of knowledge first rate in more than one subject, and with intellectual capacities excellent throughout. May this young mind develop more and more, and may the fruits of his labours be hereafter a comfort to his mother for the sorrows and cares of the past.’
For months before leaving school, though only seventeen, the thought of the future weighed heavily on him, and he seems, almost to the time of entering the University, to have felt uncertain as to the special line of life he should adopt. Poor and without influence, it was necessary that he should be in a position to keep himself as soon as he left the University. The following letter shows how carefully he weighed and considered the question : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation.
‘ I recognized blindly that a free, unfettered life is the best, but did not reflect sufficiently on the results that might arise. . . .
‘ It would be indeed delightful, and my greatest wish, to be engaged
actively as a philologist, and make a career at the University. But
who can be certain that I shall distinguish myself? and where there
is only mediocrity, this life as a philologist is miserable. Many struggle
on their whole lives here as tutors (Privatdocent) and never arrive
at being full Professors. Such a life costs a great deal, and how
14 Leaving School [ch. i
miserable I should feel, for there is something so uncertain in it, and one’s success depends on how one pleases others by one’s writings and lectures, and a risk of this kind in my circumstances seems too great. It is quite certain that I must have an assured support. On the grounds of prudence I consider philology alone as too uncertain a foundation, but that I wish to work in philology and philosophy is true. Remember ihe many works on these subjects by theologians and doctors. Think of distinguished philologists who have studied law. This influences me to look round for a certain position, that I may not attempt to erect an airy building, on a yet more airy foundation. Medicine is disagreeable to me; I am physically unfit for it. I like theology, but it is too unsettled and occupies too much time. There remains the law, which is certainly very dry and pedantic ; but it may lead to more hvely studies, and it also leaves time for other intellectual employments. One must begin everywhere in a small way. If other subjects of culture are added to the know- ledge of law, that helps not a little — so one can lay the foundations of a satisfying life, for on good fortune or rather on God’s will most things depend. If we do not forsake Him, He guides us at last to where we should be, however we may choose paths where we should like to walk. I have so far settled to choose my way, but if another road must be followed I shall not make myself unhappy. So do not be anxious about this.’
At Easter, 1841, Dr. Nobbe, in his farewell address to the
boys who were leaving the Nicolai School, thus parted with
Max MuUer:—
Translation.
‘ I must also mention F. Max Miiller from Dessau, a highly talented youth, who has just passed the final examination in his own Duchy, and who, with far from common endowments, joins the University, where he will study philology.’
On November 26, 1900, at the gathering always held in memory of the old members of the Nicolai School who have passed away in the year, the Director thus ended his mention of Max Miiller, ‘ He was without any doubt, next to Leibniz, one of the greatest of our pupils.’
Before leaving the house of Dr. Carus, Max writes to his mother : —
Translation.
‘When I remember the time that I first sent you my birthday
greetings from Leipzig, and now see that this period of life is nearly
1841] Leaving School 15
over^ I must gratefully acknowledge how good God has been to us in various ways, and has given us many compensations. But above all, how grateful we should be that God has preserved you, our dear mother, to us, to sweeten for us all that is bitter, to reward all effort. How I rejoice over next year, in which a new existence opens for me, a higher aim in life floats before me, and I shall have you both * with me. I cannot tell you how I rejoice at the thought of this time, when I must take another step forwards, and shall again, at all events for a time, be with my own people.’
Max Miiller’s old friend, Victor Carus, thus sums up his recollections of these school days : —
‘ Our chief recreations were pretty regular walks on Sundays during the summer, and skating in winter. There was no fencing during our school life, it was not allowed. It began at the University ; if I remember, Max went to the “ Fechtboden,” the official fencing- lessons of the University. On the whole there was not much free time left to us, and we were happy when my parents had some music in the evening, or when we might amuse ourselves with my father’s pensionnaires. Max was a handsome boy, but not so strikingly so as in later years. He was rather thin, and gave the impression of a delicate boy, but he was strong, and not once seriously ill.’
^ His mother and sister.
CHAPTER II
1841-1844
University life at Leipzig. Studies. Sanskrit. Friends. University life at Berlin. Friends. Lectures. Hagedorn. Humboldt. Bunsen.
Max MiJLLER joined the University of Leipzig in the
Summer Term, 1841 ; his mother and sister left Dessau and
moved to Leipzig to make a home for him and lessen
expenses. They occupied an apartment on the third floor
of a house in Reichel’s Garden, then on the very outskirts
of the town, now entirely surrounded with houses. The
arrangement was a very happy one ; his clever, agreeable
mother and pretty sister made his home bright and pleasant
to his many student friends, whilst the mother wisely did not
attempt to interfere with his perfect liberty. Of his studies
and the immense variety of lectures he attended during his
first term, Max Miiller has given a full account in the
Autobiography. He attended twelve separate courses of
lectures, of which the subjects, except Greek and Latin,
were totally new to him, yet he really worked hard at all
these various subjects, took copious notes, some of which
still exist, and read the books the Professors advised. He
had no one to direct his studies, no father or older friend
on whose advice he could rely. Later on, when he was
elected to Hermann’s Seininary and Haupt’s Latin Society,
these Professors gave him valuable help and guidance in his
classical studies, and he did some work for them. It was
probably the keen personal interest taken in him by
Brockhaus, that led him eventually to turn his attention
exclusively to Sanskrit. He entered the University as a
philologist, and in the Winter Term of 1841-2 he began to
study Sanskrit under the then newly appointed Professor,
partly compelled, he says, by the charm of studying some-
1841] Friends at Leipzig 17
thing which his friends and fellow students did not know. It was only in his last term at Leipzig that he first approached the subject he was to make so peculiarly his own, the Hymns of the Rig-veda.
During his time at the University, Max saw but little of his old friend Victor Carus. Dr. Carus had married again, and his house was in a part of Leipzig distant from that where Max Miiller lived, and as the friends were studying totally different subjects they never met in the lecture-rooms. Professor Carus writes : ‘ I cannot tell you anything of Max’s life as a student ; the difference of our studies led
But Wilhelm Miiller’s widow had not been forgotten by his friend and patron, and shortly after his death she received the following letter from the Duke of Dessau : —
1827] Early Childhood 3
Translation.
‘ Whilst I wish again to express my sincere sympathy in the great loss you have sustained, I am anxious in some degree to lessen the cares which the education of your children must bring, and I therefore grant you, as long as you remain a widow, the yearly sum of 100 thalers^ till your son has completed his twenty-first year, and then for your life the sum of fifty thalers, to begin from the first of this month. I beg to assure you of the continuance of my true esteem. Leopold.
‘Nov. 30, 1827.’
Max Miiller tells us in his Autobiography of the gloom cast over his whole childhood by his father’s death. Happily he had inherited much of that father’s joyous temperament, so that the almost daily visits to the grave ‘ where the young mother stood and sobbed and cried ‘ whilst her two children looked on, had less effect on him than might be expected ; and the constant intercourse with various friends and relations brightened what would otherwise have been a time of dark memory for his whole life. The few left who remember those early days agree in describing Max Miiller as brimful of fun and mischief, and his mother’s old servant Hanna, who lived to a great age and was never tired of asking for news of her former torment, used in those early days to call him Dieser infanie Jtmge, ‘ this terrible boy.’
After some years, Hofrathin Miiller left her father’s home and settled herself and her two children on the ground floor of a very small house. This house, though altered and im- proved, is still standing, a type of the old style of Dessau houses, consisting of a ground floor and one story above, with a loft under the high-pitched brown roof. The house looks into the churchyard of the Johannis Kirche, the church men- tioned in Deutsche Liebe, where the effect of the Easter hymn on the musical child is so vividly described : —
Translation.
‘ On this Easter Day ... the old church, with its grey slate roof,
and the high windows, and the tower with the golden cross, shone
with marvellous brightness. Suddenly the light which streamed
through the high windows began to wave and seem alive. But it
B 2
4 Love of Music [ch. i
was far too bright to look at ; and as I shut my eyes, the light still came into my soul, and everything seemed to shine and be fragrant, and to sing and sound. I felt as if a new life began in me, as if I had become another being — and when I asked my mother what it was, she said it was an Easter hymn, which they were singing in the church. I have never been able to discover what was the pure holy song which then sank into my soul, ... I have never heard it again. But now when I hear an adagio of Beethoven, or a psalm of JMarcello, or a chorus of Handel ... I feel as if the lofty church windows were again sparkling, as if the organ notes rang through my soul and a new world opened to me.’
It is needless to repeat all that Max Miiller has told us in Aitld Lang Syne and the Autobiography of the life at Dessau, and the appearance of the little Resident- Stadt (capital) at that time, still walled in, and with gates shut every night, its night watchman, and the oil lamps swinging across the streets. The night watchman and the oil lamps existed till late in the century. And yet with these primitive arrangements and simple life the little town was a centre of intellectual interest and cultivation. Music, such as one hears now only in a great capital ; a first-rate theatre, as far as the acting and opera were concerned ; real intellectual society, which hardly exists in our hurried modern life — were all to be found at Dessau, and enjoyed at so modest a cost that they were within reach of all.
Those who remember Max MUller’s pianoforte playing
when he first came to England will not be surprised to hear
that his musical training began very early, and before he went
to any school. A young musician who lived next door taught
him to play, as a surprise to his mother. They had made
friends over the hedge that divided their gardens, and after
the musician had discovered the little fellow’s genuine love of
music he lifted him daily over the hedge, and gave him his
lesson. For months the child kept the secret, till at last one
day he sat down before several friends and played his first
piece. There are easy sonatas of Beethoven with his name
on them and the date, showing that he was only six years
old when he learnt them. At fourteen he played brilliantly,
and took part in concerts at Dessau and Leipzig, and when at
home for the holidays was often sent for by the Duchess of
i83o] Gathy 5
Dessau, who was herself a fine musician, to play duets with her on the piano. Whilst still quite a child he was invited to any good music that was given in Dessau. One note written by a Dr. Otta, about the year 1831, runs thus : —
Trayislatmi.
‘ In the hopes of giving you pleasure, I take the liberty of inviting you to hear the quintette to be played to-night at my house. I trust your mother will kindly give you permission.’
The note is addressed to —
The distinguished Musician
Master Max Miiller.
When Max was only six years old Mendelssohn visited Dessau, and taking the child into the large church set him on his lap at the organ and made him play the keys, whilst he himself managed the pedals, which the little boy could not reach.
Many of Wilhelm Miiller’s old friends took an interest in his lively attractive boy.
There is a charming letter dated Saturday, July 31, 1830, from M. Gathy, to whose friendship Max Miiller owed a good deal in later years in Paris : —
Transla/w?t.
‘As I could not, my good Max, have you, as I wished, last Sunday for a long visit, I keep you to your promise and invite you and your dear little sister to have breakfast with me to-morrow at half-past eight, hoping that you will both receive permission to do so. If you paid me a visit in Hamburg, I could show you many beautiful things — toys of every sort, and particularly the most beautiful coloured tin soldiers, which would delight you. But I have left them all at home, and the hobby-horse and dolls and toys I have here would not amuse you. Toys are delightful — are they not, Max ? — when one receives them from one’s loved parents; but other things^ that one must be busy with, for other reasons, when one is older, are not nearly so pretty, or so nice to play with. Besides my brave tin soldiers, I had three beautiful collections of pictures, and flowers and butterflies. But one cannot always keep, my good Max, what one has, and, alas ! everything does not last as one would wish.
Everything is perishable, everything changes, and that is a great
pity. Now, I still have all the pictures. I carry them about with me,
yet I cannot show them to you ; but the flowers are all withered, and
6 First School [ch. i
mostly turned to dust, and my lovely coloured butterflies turn at last into crickets ^, which do not look so pretty or so pleasant. So it is with my toys, my good Max. But it does not matter ; I will be like my little soldiers, which were always my greatest delight. They stood up firmly, without knowing why, and let themselves be seized and pushed about on every side, and fought bravely and never com- plained. And when evening came they were gathered together and placed quietly in the dark cupboard, and there was peace. But don’t be frightened, Max : come here and bring your fine sword with you; we will play and talk with each other, and from the window nod to your dear mother, as I always like to do, as she goes by to church, to pray the good God that you may always be a courteous, kind, good boy, and learn diligently and thrive to your own good, and her pleasure. Adieu, dear Max ; you are expected then by your friend Gathy.’
It is doubtful whether, inborn poet as he was, Max M tiller could at six and a half have understood the beauty and pathos of this letter from the little deformed Jew.
Max entered the Gymnasium or High School at Dessau at six years old, and remained there till he was past twelve. His school reports were not remarkable, and certainly at that time he gave little evidence of the power that was in him. ‘Writing bad’ was the almost invariable report, and in later years he often lamented the small pains taken by the writing- master to improve it. An old schoolfellow, still living at Dessau, writes that all the other boys considered him a clever boy. ‘ He was full of life and much loved by all his schoolfellows.’
To our ideas the life led by the little Max was one of considerable hardship. Thinly clad and poorly fed, not from want of care and love, but from sheer poverty, his breath in winter frozen into a sheet of ice on his bed from the absence of fire, suffering from constant headaches, which may have originated from want of full nourishment such as a growing child needs, and yet nothing seems to have clouded his naturally sunny, joyous temperament. He tells us : ‘As a little boy, when I could not have the same toys which other boys possessed I could fully enjoy what they enjoyed, as if they had been my own. It was not the result of teaching, ^ A play on the word Grillen, which means crickets, and worries.
1835] Frugal Training 7
still less of reasoning — it was a sentiment given me, and which certainly did not leave me till much later in life.’
He remembered how constantly he was enjoined to take care of his clothes and make them last : and when he and his sister returned from school the boots that cost so much were put away and replaced by shoes made for them by the careful mother. It was this frugal training, this life of constant self- denial and careful thought for every trifle, that gave Max Miiller in after life the feeling of thankfulness, and the power of rejoicing in every little luxury and pleasure which he could afford himself. To the very last ‘ the child’s pure delight in little things ‘ gave a constant zest to his life, and made it easy for others to give him pleasure. Through his whole life he took every good thing, every honour that he received, as a gift he had not deserved. Some of his critics, who never knew him personally, speak of his vanity, because he dwelt with pleasure and gratitude on the honours and successes that came to him in later life. Any really vain man would have shrunk from showing his enjoyment of the good things that fell to him, for fear of being thought vain. One who knew him well mentions his entire freedom from vanity as a prominent point in his character. There is a mock humility more akin to vanity than the grateful rejoicing in all blessings (his own talents included) which was a characteristic of Max Miiller’s whole life. It is true that he greatly valued and even desired the love and approbation so largely accorded him, but this arose from his loving nature, which craved for sympathy, and not from vanity.
One more glimpse is given us of the early life in a letter from his von Basedow grandmother. His mother had gone in the early summer of 1835 with some friends to Heligoland; and she took her daughter with her, leaving Max at his grand- father’s to go to his school. The Frau Prasident writes to her absent daughter : —
Translation.
‘ 6 a.m. My dear Adelheid, — The father is out riding, Max is having his music lesson, Julie is still asleep, and I am sitting in the garden, in the summer-house, where we breakfast every morning.
I think that I cannot employ my time better than in writing to you,
8 God’s Acre, Dessau [ch. i
to give you an account of us all, for Max now belongs to us. We are all, down to the youngest, quite well, thank God. Max is very good and diligent, and has given no occasion for punishment. He bathes regularly, either with Fritz or our servant, but never alone. I am much too nervous to allow that. Just now he goes with Julie, who bathes every other day in the Mulde. We shall miss him very much when he leaves us, he has become quite one of us. You would be amused if you saw him smoking a pipe with his grandfather. He can also take a pinch of snuff, and he does not refuse a taste of liqueur. The father has a very quiet horse on which he can ride alone, so you will find him quite a grown-up man in all the finer arts. His trousers indeed have a very variegated appearance from cherries, bilberries, and ink, but a young man does not think much of that.’
We have spoken of Max MUller as an inborn poet, and in later life he told a friend he had all his life tried not to be a poet. From the early age of nine he began to write verses, all of which were carefully kept by his devoted mother. They are verses written for Christmas, or family birthdays, but one on the beautiful God’s Acre at Dessau attempts a higher flight.
‘ It is a beautiful and restful place,’ he says in the Auto- biography, ‘ covered with old acacia trees.’ It was probably this association that gave Max Miiller a peculiar love for acacia trees, and it was a real grief to him when one that stood in the Parks close to his house in Norham Gardens withered and died. He tells us that the inscription over the gateway of the God’s Acre was a puzzle to his young mind : ‘ Death is not death, ‘tis but the ennobling of man’s nature.’ It may have been the echo of these words in his mind that made him in 1884, in writing to one of his Buddhist pupils, speak of ‘ looking forward to a better life —
I mean a life in which we shall be better.’ When at school at Leipzig he constantly wrote poems in the letters he sent his mother, and there were three occasions at his school at Leipzig where he had to recite publicly verses of his own writing. There is a whole book full of manuscript sonnets and poems written during his University career, some of which were published at the time in journals and papers, and brought in a little money, most acceptable to the poor student.
During the hard battle with life in Paris and London, the
1836] Nicolai School 9
muse seems to have been silent. A few beautiful sonnets exist, written later under the pressure of great sorrow, but his life was too full of other work, to which he was pledged to devote his time, for him to indulge in poetry, and except two sonnets to the Emperor Frederick (1871 and 1888), and an ode on the death of the Duke of Albany, nothing exists written in later years but a ^q^ birthday couplets. Max Miiller never published any of his poems, except in his University days.
After his grandfather’s death Max was sent, at Easter, 1836, to the famous Nicolai School at Leipzig. He lived in the house of Dr. Carus, an old family friend, whose only son, Victor, was of the same age. * Max was taken as a friend,’ writes Professor Victor Carus, ‘ and was treated entirely as a son of the family. Aunt Muller, as his mother was called by all of us, never paid anything, as my parents were intimate friends of hers. We went together to the Nicolai School, we slept in the same room, worked together, and had, in fact, everything in common.’ Max was placed in Quarta, which answers to Remove at Eton. The education was almost entirely classical, and before he left the school, five years later, he could speak Latin with perfect ease. He was able to hear a great deal of good music at Leipzig, Frau Carus herself being very musical, with a fine voice, and she and Dr. Carus delighted in collecting the best musicians at their house. Victor Carus was a good violinist, and when the two young friends, Victor and Max, were about fifteen years old, they astonished Dr. Carus on his birthday by playing the whole Kreutzer Sonata by heart.
There had long been an intimate friendship between the Mendelssohns and Max Muller’s parents, therefore he naturally saw much of Felix Mendelssohn, who was conductor of the Gewandhaus Concerts at Leipzig from 1835 to 1843. He thus describes his first musical evening to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I went on Friday to Mendelssohn’s, and already on the staircase
heard the lovely music. I went in bravely ^, and was received in the
^ He was little over thirteen.
lo Music at Leipzig [ch. i
most friendly manner. I found Felix, David, Dreischock, and Mendelssohn’s sister Fanny. Hensel was very kind, so was she ; both spoke of you. and Hensel of my father too, whom he admired immensely. Mendelssohn stood close to the piano, and I sat where I could watch Dreischock with great comfort. He is still the first of pianists, and quite a young man. He played here last winter and was taken for Thalberg. He played really marvellously, so that Mendelssohn wondered at his skill, though he (Felix) immediately afterwards played an imitation of his composition. I must say, I much prefer Mendelssohn, even if the other has more skill, particularly in octave playing, in which he is decidedly the first of artists. Then Hensel told me a delightful story. They had already last Wednesday sent here for me, but Sophie did not understand the maid, and sent her to Dr. Miiller, who lives behind this in the Garden house. And so he went in the evening, beautifully got up, and nobody knew him, or what to say to him. That was funny.’
Later, he writes thus of Thalberg : —
Translation.
‘Now I have seen and heard Thalberg. It was yesterday even- ing. It is indescribable. I am still perfectly enchanted by it ; there can be nothing else like it. He is quite young, handsome, and very distinguished looking, beautiful hands and such skill, execution, and power.’
From the time he went to Leipzig, Max Miiller began the correspondence with his passionately loved mother, which continued till the year of her death, 1883. Almost every letter has been kept, and the whole forms a complete journal of his doings when not with her. With his ardent affection for her, he felt the separation keenly, and writes on the first birthday on which he was not with her, as follows : —
Translatioft. Oct. 10, 1836.
‘ My dear good Mother, — To-day, for the first time, I have to be far away from you on your birthday, and you can fancy how sorry I am. I think it grieves 5’ou too, little mother, for I know your love for me. Oh, how I long to be with you, only for a moment, only to press you in my arms, only to tell you how I love you : but it can’t be.
Your birthday is always doubly dear to me, first because it is your
birthday, and then because it was the first day that you roused yourself
again from your sorrow ^, to which just in these weeks of the year you
‘ W. Miiller died Oct. I ; her birthday was Oct. 12.
1839] Letters to his Mother 11
gave way more than usually. You were right to grieve, and it would not have been proper to try to console and amuse you. You must have sorrowed this year more than usual, as the birthday of our good grandfather was this week. But I will not write more about this ; it will but renew your sorrow. I will only say that God has replaced something of what you have lost, in giving you two beings who love you as no others do. You best know whom I mean.
‘Your Max.’
These early letters to his mother show a maturity of thought and earnestness of purpose that are very unusual in so young a boy ; and as life went on the relations of mother and son seem changed, and it is the son who takes the guiding and protecting tone towards the mother.
In March, 1839, Dr. Carus lost his wife, who had watched over Max with the same motherly care she gave to her own boy. His grief at the time, and his later letters, prove how sorely he missed her. In one letter he gives his mother an account of his day, which would probably have been laid out more wisely had the kind Tmite (aunt) been still there to watch over him.
Translation.
‘ You will be surprised to hear that I have arranged everything for certain fixed hours, but I am very glad to have settled it so that I am not interrupted. I get up at five, or even earlier, and work till seven, go to school, play the violoncello at eleven, the piano at twelve, then dinner, then school again, then coffee and gymnastic exercises, then work again till I can get fresh air in the garden, which is impossible in this heat, during the day. I seem quite changed to myself, and you know that such punctual arrangements were not at all in my line. I eat only a roll from five in the morning till one o’clock, and drink no coffee early, and I often feel rather faint. Then for the last week I have had constant headaches, but I am getting quite accustomed to them, and I lead a very happy life.’
In the last years of his school life he seems to have read a good deal for himself, and discusses the books he reads with his mother.
7 rans la/ton.
‘ I had already said to myself that you would not be pleased that
I had read Wilhelm Meisier, and in some respects you are quite right ;
not that it can exactly hurt me, but that it might occupy my thoughts
12
Dresden [ch. i
too much. On the evil influence of reading or other temptations, I could not point out any better passage than the Latin verse in Faust which Mephistopheles repeats to the student, that God is holy and good just because He knows what evil is. This is very true if only further explained, i. e. because He knows evil, but never commits it. If we could imagine that God did not know what sin and temptation are, we could not call Him God, for we should have an imperfect God. . . . The more dangerous things I read, the stronger I become, if I am not mistaken, to wage war with them. And yet again what you say is true, for how foolhardy it would be to throw oneself into temptations without thoroughly knowing oneself, and how far one could stand firm. So a desire for dangerous reading is in itself a crime.’
And again —
Translation.
‘ I have had a great deal of pleasure from Bettina von Arnim’s letters and diary. It is full of beautiful feeling and well expressed, though towards the end it is weaker, for there it becomes laboured ; at first it just bubbles up of its own accord.’
Though Max Miiller tells us he had little chance of travelling during his school days, there is a journal of three days spent at Dresden and in a walking tour through Saxon Switzerland at Whitsuntide, 1839, when he was fifteen and a half years old. This visit gave him his first sight of really great works of art, for though there are some choice pieces of sculpture and a few good pictures at Dessau, the little capital naturally possesses nothing quite of the first rank. ‘ It was perfect enchantment,’ he says, ‘ to step into the Raphael room^ where the great Madonna standing on the globe shines down upon us, a picture that far exceeds all one’s imagination, and stands there, the crown of all pictures.’ The same feeling animated him in 1857, when he wrote in Deutsche Liebe ; ‘To stand before the Madonna di San Sisto in Dresden, and to allow all the thoughts to wake in us, which year after year the unfathomable look of the child has created in us.’
From reasons of economy he was not always able to spend his holidays at Dessau with his mother and sister, as we see from the following little note dated ‘ Silvester Evening,’ that is December 31, probably 1839 : —
1841 J Examination 13
Translation.
• How often I wish that I were so far advanced that I could myself earn something to make your life easier — you who deprive yourself of everything and spare everything to make us happy. But I will try to be more and more diligent, and better, that, as far as I can, I may give you pleasure, which is the only possible return for all your love and care.’
Max Miiller had to pass his abiturienten examination in the early spring of 1841 at Zerbst, in order to gain a Dessau scholarship for the University. This examination was more scientific than classical, but he passed easily, taking a first class, and gained his scholarship, such as it was — £6 — a mere trifle to English ideas, but an important help to him. Before the examination, Dr. Nobbe, the head master of the Nicolai School, wrote thus of him to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I rejoice that I can see him leave this school with testimonials of moral excellence not often found in one of his years, possessed of knowledge first rate in more than one subject, and with intellectual capacities excellent throughout. May this young mind develop more and more, and may the fruits of his labours be hereafter a comfort to his mother for the sorrows and cares of the past.’
For months before leaving school, though only seventeen, the thought of the future weighed heavily on him, and he seems, almost to the time of entering the University, to have felt uncertain as to the special line of life he should adopt. Poor and without influence, it was necessary that he should be in a position to keep himself as soon as he left the University. The following letter shows how carefully he weighed and considered the question : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation.
‘ I recognized blindly that a free, unfettered life is the best, but did not reflect sufficiently on the results that might arise. . . .
‘ It would be indeed delightful, and my greatest wish, to be engaged
actively as a philologist, and make a career at the University. But
who can be certain that I shall distinguish myself? and where there
is only mediocrity, this life as a philologist is miserable. Many struggle
on their whole lives here as tutors (Privatdocent) and never arrive
at being full Professors. Such a life costs a great deal, and how
14 Leaving School [ch. i
miserable I should feel, for there is something so uncertain in it, and one’s success depends on how one pleases others by one’s writings and lectures, and a risk of this kind in my circumstances seems too great. It is quite certain that I must have an assured support. On the grounds of prudence I consider philology alone as too uncertain a foundation, but that I wish to work in philology and philosophy is true. Remember ihe many works on these subjects by theologians and doctors. Think of distinguished philologists who have studied law. This influences me to look round for a certain position, that I may not attempt to erect an airy building, on a yet more airy foundation. Medicine is disagreeable to me; I am physically unfit for it. I like theology, but it is too unsettled and occupies too much time. There remains the law, which is certainly very dry and pedantic ; but it may lead to more hvely studies, and it also leaves time for other intellectual employments. One must begin everywhere in a small way. If other subjects of culture are added to the know- ledge of law, that helps not a little — so one can lay the foundations of a satisfying life, for on good fortune or rather on God’s will most things depend. If we do not forsake Him, He guides us at last to where we should be, however we may choose paths where we should like to walk. I have so far settled to choose my way, but if another road must be followed I shall not make myself unhappy. So do not be anxious about this.’
At Easter, 1841, Dr. Nobbe, in his farewell address to the
boys who were leaving the Nicolai School, thus parted with
Max MuUer:—
Translation.
‘ I must also mention F. Max Miiller from Dessau, a highly talented youth, who has just passed the final examination in his own Duchy, and who, with far from common endowments, joins the University, where he will study philology.’
On November 26, 1900, at the gathering always held in memory of the old members of the Nicolai School who have passed away in the year, the Director thus ended his mention of Max Miiller, ‘ He was without any doubt, next to Leibniz, one of the greatest of our pupils.’
Before leaving the house of Dr. Carus, Max writes to his mother : —
Translation.
‘When I remember the time that I first sent you my birthday
greetings from Leipzig, and now see that this period of life is nearly
1841] Leaving School 15
over^ I must gratefully acknowledge how good God has been to us in various ways, and has given us many compensations. But above all, how grateful we should be that God has preserved you, our dear mother, to us, to sweeten for us all that is bitter, to reward all effort. How I rejoice over next year, in which a new existence opens for me, a higher aim in life floats before me, and I shall have you both * with me. I cannot tell you how I rejoice at the thought of this time, when I must take another step forwards, and shall again, at all events for a time, be with my own people.’
Max Miiller’s old friend, Victor Carus, thus sums up his recollections of these school days : —
‘ Our chief recreations were pretty regular walks on Sundays during the summer, and skating in winter. There was no fencing during our school life, it was not allowed. It began at the University ; if I remember, Max went to the “ Fechtboden,” the official fencing- lessons of the University. On the whole there was not much free time left to us, and we were happy when my parents had some music in the evening, or when we might amuse ourselves with my father’s pensionnaires. Max was a handsome boy, but not so strikingly so as in later years. He was rather thin, and gave the impression of a delicate boy, but he was strong, and not once seriously ill.’
^ His mother and sister.
CHAPTER II
1841-1844
University life at Leipzig. Studies. Sanskrit. Friends. University life at Berlin. Friends. Lectures. Hagedorn. Humboldt. Bunsen.
Max MiJLLER joined the University of Leipzig in the
Summer Term, 1841 ; his mother and sister left Dessau and
moved to Leipzig to make a home for him and lessen
expenses. They occupied an apartment on the third floor
of a house in Reichel’s Garden, then on the very outskirts
of the town, now entirely surrounded with houses. The
arrangement was a very happy one ; his clever, agreeable
mother and pretty sister made his home bright and pleasant
to his many student friends, whilst the mother wisely did not
attempt to interfere with his perfect liberty. Of his studies
and the immense variety of lectures he attended during his
first term, Max Miiller has given a full account in the
Autobiography. He attended twelve separate courses of
lectures, of which the subjects, except Greek and Latin,
were totally new to him, yet he really worked hard at all
these various subjects, took copious notes, some of which
still exist, and read the books the Professors advised. He
had no one to direct his studies, no father or older friend
on whose advice he could rely. Later on, when he was
elected to Hermann’s Seininary and Haupt’s Latin Society,
these Professors gave him valuable help and guidance in his
classical studies, and he did some work for them. It was
probably the keen personal interest taken in him by
Brockhaus, that led him eventually to turn his attention
exclusively to Sanskrit. He entered the University as a
philologist, and in the Winter Term of 1841-2 he began to
study Sanskrit under the then newly appointed Professor,
partly compelled, he says, by the charm of studying some-
1841] Friends at Leipzig 17
thing which his friends and fellow students did not know. It was only in his last term at Leipzig that he first approached the subject he was to make so peculiarly his own, the Hymns of the Rig-veda.
During his time at the University, Max saw but little of his old friend Victor Carus. Dr. Carus had married again, and his house was in a part of Leipzig distant from that where Max Miiller lived, and as the friends were studying totally different subjects they never met in the lecture-rooms. Professor Carus writes : ‘ I cannot tell you anything of Max’s life as a student ; the difference of our studies led
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
us to different occupations, friendships, and ways.’ Max M tiller’s chief friends were Theodore Fontane, so well known later as a novel writer, and Prowe, afterwards a master at the chief school at Thorn, with whom he formed an intimate friend- ship. Fontane gives an interesting account of a literary society which they frequented ; it was a society of Leipzig poets, and to it belonged, among others, Fontane himself, Prowe, Wolfssohn, and Max Miiller.
Translation.
‘ All made themselves a name in the small or great world. In the
really great world, indeed, only one, the last named. Wolfssohn on
certain points gave the tone to our society. We others were all young
people of average attainments; Wolfssohn, on the contrary, was
a refined man of the world. But the great feature of our club, of
course from what he became afterwards, was Max Miiller. He
could have rivalled Wolfssohn on his own ground, that of social
distinction, perhaps even beaten him, had he not been too young, only
seventeen years of age. Feeling this, he kept himself in the background,
and confined himself chiefly to following with the shrewd bright face
of a squirrel our rodomontades on freedom, relative to our plans “ pour
culbuter toute I’Europe.” Only now and then he himself shot off
a small arrow. When the Journal for the Elegant World, which we
always called for short “ The Elegant,” changed its editor, and
appointed Heinrich Laube in the place of Gustav Kiihne, Miiller said,
good-humouredly,
Was sich Kiihne nicht erkiihnt,
Wird sich Laube nicht erlauben ^
‘ On the whole he went his own way, both in small and great
matters. He was very much loved and respected in our circle, and
^ Impossible to translate, from the play on the names.
I C
i8 Early Writings [ch. ii
that not only because, as we all knew, he had been a pattern scholar at school, but more especially as the son of his distinguished father. That he would in the eyes of the world far surpass his father, we naturally never dreamt in those days.’
Fontane seems to have left Leipzig for Dresden in 1842, and a few of Max Mialler’s letters to him are still extant.
Translation.
‘As dumb as a fish, dear Fontane. To what purpose does the Leipzig Railway go daily, when you won’t even take the trouble to send me a few lines, especially as lately you have had so much that you might have imparted to me ? For some time it has not been wise to mention your name to me, and yet there was so much in my heart that I wanted to say to you. I hope you have not been idle, but will soon give us something good and new. How would it be if we wrote a novel together ? There are many such. The other partner must alter nothing, and it is of the utmost importance to carry on the mutual thoughts adroitly. I have written a great deal lately, but only prose. My new name is Max Dessauer, under which name you will find several things in The Planet, i, e. several very poor things, for I must not give much of my time to them.’
Max MiAller speaks here of ‘ writing a great deal.’ Various small papers of the day published in Leipzig, The Comet, The Planet, The Shooting Star, &c., contain small tales by Max Dessauer, decidedly sentimental, and giving little promise of his future power of description and clearness of expression. There is, however, one set of papers written in 1843, Camera Obscnra from Berlin, which are far in advance of the tales, and are full of clever, sarcastic remarks on Berlin ways and manners, and the frivolous life of the Berlin people of that time, always amusing themselves and always full of chatter and gossip.
In the Ajitohiography Max Muller tells us of three duels he fought during his three years at the University of Leipzig, and justifies these affairs as the only means of keeping the rougher elements found in every German University in order. He was greatly surprised in after years, when he first visited Oxford, to hear that duels were as unknown there as they were unnecessary.
On September i, 1843, Max Miiller passed his examination
1843] Degree of Phil. Doc. 19
for the degree of Phil. Doc. He did not teli his mother that he meant to offer himself for examination so soon, for fear of disappointing her by failure. Too poor to buy the necessary dress coat for the occasion, he borrowed one. He passed with ease, and his mother must have felt rewarded for all her efforts and cares, when her son, still three months under twenty, laid his card, Dr. Max Miillcr, in her lap. Among her papers after her death the following was found copied from some English book : ‘ The tie of mother and son, of widowed mother and only son, the tie unlike all others in the world, not only in its blessedness, but in its divine compensa- tion.’ It would seem from the following letters written just afterwards that he had been far from well all the summer, probably overworked : —
Translation. September, 1843.
‘ Dear Fontane, — I can well imagine that you have often cursed me not a little as I gave no sign of life for such a long time ; but Morbus excusat hominejti, and I will add, Nisi homo excusat morbum I I hope you have carried on your Latin studies so far as to comprehend the deep meaning of these words ; and if a human heart still beats in your breast, you must pity me, poor wretch, for having spent nearly the whole vacation in a nervous fever, so that I must stay almost the whole of next term here in Leipzig. It is ill-luck, you will agree. Well, one could almost despair, but where’s the good of it ? I have quietly unpacked my books and things again, and sit in Reichel’s Garden, up three flights, up which I have to climb with many gasps. I am in Leipzig incognito, for I had already paid my farewell visits everywhere, and altogether feel no inclination for society.’
To THE Same.
Translation. January 4, 1844.
‘ Just lately I have been busy with a new edition of the Griechenlieder’^ ,
and I wrote a preface to it, as I have included the hitherto unpublished
poems and the hymn to Raphael Riego. I was very much annoyed
that the preface could not be printed, as what I thought of most in the
new edition was to excite a feeling of contempt for those who by their
policy of friendship brought the struggles of a whole people for liberty
to an end : or at least to invite sympathy for a betrayed country. But
if the reader welcomes the poems, as belonging to the past, no reference
to the present would find favour in his eyes, and I must satisfy myself
^ The first edition of his father’s poems in which he was personally concerned.
C 2
20
Hitopadesa [ch. n
with giving a simple literary notice. You see there is nothing left but to avoid all living subjective topics, and take refuge in the objective past. So I have picked out a v^^ork from hoary antiquity and my first Opus will soon appear, a German translation of the oldest Indian collection of fables. You will find many acquaintances of childhood’s days, from Gellert, La Fontaine, &c., and the interesting thing is that one can follow the wanderings of these fables, through twenty different languages, from the oldest to the most recent times, a work which I am reserving for another time. Wolfssohn has quite disappeared, and of Schauenburg I know little except that he is closely watched in Berlin.’
The translation of the Hitopadesa was brought out in March, 1844; the book is dedicated to Brockhaus. Towards the end of his University career at Leipzig, Prince Wilhelm of Dessau, who had in 1840 married Emilie, his mother’s cousin, expressed a wish to adopt Max Miiller, and put him into the Austrian Diplomatic Service. ‘ I at once said no,’ he tells us in the Autobiography ; ‘ it seemed to interfere with my freedom, with my studies, with my ideal of a career in life.’
Max had long felt an ardent wish to go for a year to Berlin to study Sanskrit under Bopp, but more especially Philosophy under Schelling. He wanted also to examine the collection of Sanskrit MSS. which the King of Prussia had just bought in England from the executors of Robert Chambers. His sister had been married in February of this year to a young physician, Dr. Krug, and had removed to Chemnitz ; and it was settled that the mother should live there with the young couple, rather than with her son at Berlin. Max Miiller had his scholarship for one year more, but it was only forty thalers (;^6), and in this year (December, 1844) he would come of age, and the pension of a hundred thalers (;^i5), granted to his mother at the time of his father’s death, would be reduced to half. How Max Miiller, when away from his mother, was able to live, is certainly a puzzle, but living then in Germany was extraordinarily cheap ; during a hard winter the firing for the family cost about twopence a day, and everything else was in proportion. So in March, 1844, the little home in Reichel’s Garden was broken up, and the mother started for Chemnitz. On his last evening at Leipzig, which had been his home, more or less, since 1 836, Max Miiller writes to his mother : —
1844] Leaves Leipzig 21
Translation. Leipzig, March, 1844.
‘ My dear little Mother, — I had meant to write to you first from Berlin, when I had settled myself there, but I know you will be glad to get a letter from me sooner. How often we two [M, M. and Prowe] thought of and pitied you ! I am sure it was an uncomfortable journey. We were very tired, but yet went late to bed. From the post-house we went to Reichel’s Garden. We went up into the old rooms, where we had passed many happy hours all together. It looked very desolate, and we went home, where we had tea, and were much better for it, and talked till past eleven. I was glad when I woke early to think of you three happy and comfortable together in Chemnitz. I am full of delight at the thought of Berlin, and there I shall find a letter from my dear mother. Take good care of yourself, and do not do too much, Prowe sends many affectionate messages. Write soon to ‘ Your Max.’
The following letter was written soon after he arrived in
Berlin : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Berlin, April 15, 1844.
‘ You have no doubt been expecting a letter from me sooner, and will have thought I was long ago setded in Berlin. But you know how it is in Dessau, how one is kept day after day, and so I only got here a few days ago, and have as yet done nothing but hunt for lodgings. Everything was very pleasant at Dessau, but it took some time before I found the various people at home. I went first to the Chamberlain, from whom I hoped to hear something definite as to the Leopold Stipendium ^ Unfortunately he gave me no hope, nor did Bernhorst or Morgenstern. They were all very kind, and accepted the Hitopadesa. Bernhorst had told the Duke I was in Dessau, and came himself to tell me the Duke would see me.
So on Wednesday early I went to the Pater Patriae, who talked
to me a long time, but of the Stipendium or of other arrange-
ments not a syllable. Then I went to Fraulein Rath, who told
me I was to see the Duchess the next day. She too was most gracious
and kind, asked me why I did not go to England, and I told her
everything most openly, but it produced no result. When I went
to Advocate Richter, I could not but tell him my position after the
next, that is the last, payment of my scholarship. You see, dear
mother, I have spared no pains. I must see now how I can help
myself. I drew fifty thalers from my savings bank. I left Dessau at
^ A Stipendium founded by the Duke for poor scholars, and which Max Miiller hoped he might have when his scholarship ceased.
22 Friends at Berlin [ch. ii
two o’clock, and arrived in Berlin about seven. Uncle and Aunt - Hake said at once I was to stay with them as long as I liked, whilst I looked for a really nice room. I have done that most conscientiously, for to-day and yesterday I have seen at least forty. I am very tired with all this running about, and long for a quiet, settled life. I shall not pay any visits till I am settled, but when will that be ? ‘
Tra7islation. April 17.
‘ I have found a room, a few yards from Unter den Linden. The house is clean and light, and I like my room very much. I give for it and service and cleaning boots, six thalers (iSj.) a month. It is nicely furnished, and the people of the house are clean and respectable.
‘Your INIax.’
It is evident from his letters to his mother and his Diary that the early part of his time at Berlin was most agreeable. He went into society more than he had done at Leipzig, and was fortunate in having the entree of several very pleasant houses, chief among which was the house of Hensel the artist, married to Mendelssohn’s favourite sister Fanny. The Kriigers, connexions of his own (he was also an artist), were very kind to the young student, and he dined there every Sunday, unless he had any other invitation. His aunt, Julie Hake, also had him to dinner every week. At Berlin, Max Miiller began keeping a journal, and continued it fairly regularly till August. He seems to have dined, when not asked out, at a restaurant, where he paid sixpence for his dinner, which he reports as good. He matriculated as a theologian ! Soon after, he writes: ‘Worked early, but could not concentrate myself; and adds the same evening, * Dreaming, and a little poetry, and a very little work. I must work more in future.’ A few days later he paid his first visit to the Library in search of Sanskrit MSS., which he seems to have been unable to see owing to the absence of the head librarian.
Towards the end of April he met Fontane as an Imperial Grenadier at Kosch’s, where he dined. ‘ He came to me at five, and we talked of many things, and finally of the Divine and Human. He is a fine fellow, and has to submit to a good deal.’ Fontane writes of these times : —
T7-anslalion,
‘ I had a strong affection for Miiller from the first at Leipzig, but we
only became really intimate three years later, when we were both for
1844] Sc helling 23
a time in Berlin, he at his Sanskrit studies, I as a Kaiser Franz Grenadier. He lived then on the third floor of a corner house, close to the Werder’sche Kirche, where he, greatly to his own satisfaction, lodged with a shoemaker. If only the workshop had not been next his room ! The beating of leather went on the whole day long, and Miiller would have lost all patience, but for the wonderful view. The whole town lay like a panorama before him, especially the royal palace with its beautiful gardens. To look at this was a real solace, and he held out against the noise. He already gave promise of becoming some one, and rejoiced in being in especial favour with Friedrich Riickert, who in these years, yielding to the King’s wish, gave lectures at the University. Max Miiller was then translating, among other works, Kalidasa’s Cloud Messettger. If I owe all I know of Russian Literature to Wolfssohn, I owe to Miiller what little I learnt about Sanskrit poetry. He still showed the same, not ironical, but kindly, mischievous temperament which he already possessed in Leipzig.’
Max Miiller had expected great things from Schelling, and in a letter to his mother thus describes his first visit to the great philosopher: —
Translatmi.
‘ I went to announce myself. He receives people at four o’clock. I had not expected much, for I had heard how he had dismissed Jellinick, but I was more fortunate. I asked him if he would continue to lecture next term on the Philosophy of Revelation, He said he could not decide yet, therefore probably only a private lecture again. Then I spoke to him of my time in Leipzig, of Weiss and Brockhaus, and then we came round to Indian Philosophy. Here he allowed me to tell him a good deal. I especially dwelt on the hkeness between Sankhya and his own system, and remarked how an inclination to the Vedanta showed itself. He asked what we must understand by Vedanta, how the existence of God was proved, how God created the world, whether it had reality. He has been much occupied with Cole- brooke’s Assays, and he seemed to wish to learn more, as he asked me if I could explain a text. Then he asked where I was living, knew my father as Greek poet and a worker on Homer, and at last dismissed me with “ Come again soon,” offering to do anything he could for me.’
The following letters give his mother a pleasant account of his life : —
Translation. May, 1844.
Translation.
‘ All made themselves a name in the small or great world. In the
really great world, indeed, only one, the last named. Wolfssohn on
certain points gave the tone to our society. We others were all young
people of average attainments; Wolfssohn, on the contrary, was
a refined man of the world. But the great feature of our club, of
course from what he became afterwards, was Max Miiller. He
could have rivalled Wolfssohn on his own ground, that of social
distinction, perhaps even beaten him, had he not been too young, only
seventeen years of age. Feeling this, he kept himself in the background,
and confined himself chiefly to following with the shrewd bright face
of a squirrel our rodomontades on freedom, relative to our plans “ pour
culbuter toute I’Europe.” Only now and then he himself shot off
a small arrow. When the Journal for the Elegant World, which we
always called for short “ The Elegant,” changed its editor, and
appointed Heinrich Laube in the place of Gustav Kiihne, Miiller said,
good-humouredly,
Was sich Kiihne nicht erkiihnt,
Wird sich Laube nicht erlauben ^
‘ On the whole he went his own way, both in small and great
matters. He was very much loved and respected in our circle, and
^ Impossible to translate, from the play on the names.
I C
i8 Early Writings [ch. ii
that not only because, as we all knew, he had been a pattern scholar at school, but more especially as the son of his distinguished father. That he would in the eyes of the world far surpass his father, we naturally never dreamt in those days.’
Fontane seems to have left Leipzig for Dresden in 1842, and a few of Max Mialler’s letters to him are still extant.
Translation.
‘As dumb as a fish, dear Fontane. To what purpose does the Leipzig Railway go daily, when you won’t even take the trouble to send me a few lines, especially as lately you have had so much that you might have imparted to me ? For some time it has not been wise to mention your name to me, and yet there was so much in my heart that I wanted to say to you. I hope you have not been idle, but will soon give us something good and new. How would it be if we wrote a novel together ? There are many such. The other partner must alter nothing, and it is of the utmost importance to carry on the mutual thoughts adroitly. I have written a great deal lately, but only prose. My new name is Max Dessauer, under which name you will find several things in The Planet, i, e. several very poor things, for I must not give much of my time to them.’
Max MiAller speaks here of ‘ writing a great deal.’ Various small papers of the day published in Leipzig, The Comet, The Planet, The Shooting Star, &c., contain small tales by Max Dessauer, decidedly sentimental, and giving little promise of his future power of description and clearness of expression. There is, however, one set of papers written in 1843, Camera Obscnra from Berlin, which are far in advance of the tales, and are full of clever, sarcastic remarks on Berlin ways and manners, and the frivolous life of the Berlin people of that time, always amusing themselves and always full of chatter and gossip.
In the Ajitohiography Max Muller tells us of three duels he fought during his three years at the University of Leipzig, and justifies these affairs as the only means of keeping the rougher elements found in every German University in order. He was greatly surprised in after years, when he first visited Oxford, to hear that duels were as unknown there as they were unnecessary.
On September i, 1843, Max Miiller passed his examination
1843] Degree of Phil. Doc. 19
for the degree of Phil. Doc. He did not teli his mother that he meant to offer himself for examination so soon, for fear of disappointing her by failure. Too poor to buy the necessary dress coat for the occasion, he borrowed one. He passed with ease, and his mother must have felt rewarded for all her efforts and cares, when her son, still three months under twenty, laid his card, Dr. Max Miillcr, in her lap. Among her papers after her death the following was found copied from some English book : ‘ The tie of mother and son, of widowed mother and only son, the tie unlike all others in the world, not only in its blessedness, but in its divine compensa- tion.’ It would seem from the following letters written just afterwards that he had been far from well all the summer, probably overworked : —
Translation. September, 1843.
‘ Dear Fontane, — I can well imagine that you have often cursed me not a little as I gave no sign of life for such a long time ; but Morbus excusat hominejti, and I will add, Nisi homo excusat morbum I I hope you have carried on your Latin studies so far as to comprehend the deep meaning of these words ; and if a human heart still beats in your breast, you must pity me, poor wretch, for having spent nearly the whole vacation in a nervous fever, so that I must stay almost the whole of next term here in Leipzig. It is ill-luck, you will agree. Well, one could almost despair, but where’s the good of it ? I have quietly unpacked my books and things again, and sit in Reichel’s Garden, up three flights, up which I have to climb with many gasps. I am in Leipzig incognito, for I had already paid my farewell visits everywhere, and altogether feel no inclination for society.’
To THE Same.
Translation. January 4, 1844.
‘ Just lately I have been busy with a new edition of the Griechenlieder’^ ,
and I wrote a preface to it, as I have included the hitherto unpublished
poems and the hymn to Raphael Riego. I was very much annoyed
that the preface could not be printed, as what I thought of most in the
new edition was to excite a feeling of contempt for those who by their
policy of friendship brought the struggles of a whole people for liberty
to an end : or at least to invite sympathy for a betrayed country. But
if the reader welcomes the poems, as belonging to the past, no reference
to the present would find favour in his eyes, and I must satisfy myself
^ The first edition of his father’s poems in which he was personally concerned.
C 2
20
Hitopadesa [ch. n
with giving a simple literary notice. You see there is nothing left but to avoid all living subjective topics, and take refuge in the objective past. So I have picked out a v^^ork from hoary antiquity and my first Opus will soon appear, a German translation of the oldest Indian collection of fables. You will find many acquaintances of childhood’s days, from Gellert, La Fontaine, &c., and the interesting thing is that one can follow the wanderings of these fables, through twenty different languages, from the oldest to the most recent times, a work which I am reserving for another time. Wolfssohn has quite disappeared, and of Schauenburg I know little except that he is closely watched in Berlin.’
The translation of the Hitopadesa was brought out in March, 1844; the book is dedicated to Brockhaus. Towards the end of his University career at Leipzig, Prince Wilhelm of Dessau, who had in 1840 married Emilie, his mother’s cousin, expressed a wish to adopt Max Miiller, and put him into the Austrian Diplomatic Service. ‘ I at once said no,’ he tells us in the Autobiography ; ‘ it seemed to interfere with my freedom, with my studies, with my ideal of a career in life.’
Max had long felt an ardent wish to go for a year to Berlin to study Sanskrit under Bopp, but more especially Philosophy under Schelling. He wanted also to examine the collection of Sanskrit MSS. which the King of Prussia had just bought in England from the executors of Robert Chambers. His sister had been married in February of this year to a young physician, Dr. Krug, and had removed to Chemnitz ; and it was settled that the mother should live there with the young couple, rather than with her son at Berlin. Max Miiller had his scholarship for one year more, but it was only forty thalers (;^6), and in this year (December, 1844) he would come of age, and the pension of a hundred thalers (;^i5), granted to his mother at the time of his father’s death, would be reduced to half. How Max Miiller, when away from his mother, was able to live, is certainly a puzzle, but living then in Germany was extraordinarily cheap ; during a hard winter the firing for the family cost about twopence a day, and everything else was in proportion. So in March, 1844, the little home in Reichel’s Garden was broken up, and the mother started for Chemnitz. On his last evening at Leipzig, which had been his home, more or less, since 1 836, Max Miiller writes to his mother : —
1844] Leaves Leipzig 21
Translation. Leipzig, March, 1844.
‘ My dear little Mother, — I had meant to write to you first from Berlin, when I had settled myself there, but I know you will be glad to get a letter from me sooner. How often we two [M, M. and Prowe] thought of and pitied you ! I am sure it was an uncomfortable journey. We were very tired, but yet went late to bed. From the post-house we went to Reichel’s Garden. We went up into the old rooms, where we had passed many happy hours all together. It looked very desolate, and we went home, where we had tea, and were much better for it, and talked till past eleven. I was glad when I woke early to think of you three happy and comfortable together in Chemnitz. I am full of delight at the thought of Berlin, and there I shall find a letter from my dear mother. Take good care of yourself, and do not do too much, Prowe sends many affectionate messages. Write soon to ‘ Your Max.’
The following letter was written soon after he arrived in
Berlin : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Berlin, April 15, 1844.
‘ You have no doubt been expecting a letter from me sooner, and will have thought I was long ago setded in Berlin. But you know how it is in Dessau, how one is kept day after day, and so I only got here a few days ago, and have as yet done nothing but hunt for lodgings. Everything was very pleasant at Dessau, but it took some time before I found the various people at home. I went first to the Chamberlain, from whom I hoped to hear something definite as to the Leopold Stipendium ^ Unfortunately he gave me no hope, nor did Bernhorst or Morgenstern. They were all very kind, and accepted the Hitopadesa. Bernhorst had told the Duke I was in Dessau, and came himself to tell me the Duke would see me.
So on Wednesday early I went to the Pater Patriae, who talked
to me a long time, but of the Stipendium or of other arrange-
ments not a syllable. Then I went to Fraulein Rath, who told
me I was to see the Duchess the next day. She too was most gracious
and kind, asked me why I did not go to England, and I told her
everything most openly, but it produced no result. When I went
to Advocate Richter, I could not but tell him my position after the
next, that is the last, payment of my scholarship. You see, dear
mother, I have spared no pains. I must see now how I can help
myself. I drew fifty thalers from my savings bank. I left Dessau at
^ A Stipendium founded by the Duke for poor scholars, and which Max Miiller hoped he might have when his scholarship ceased.
22 Friends at Berlin [ch. ii
two o’clock, and arrived in Berlin about seven. Uncle and Aunt - Hake said at once I was to stay with them as long as I liked, whilst I looked for a really nice room. I have done that most conscientiously, for to-day and yesterday I have seen at least forty. I am very tired with all this running about, and long for a quiet, settled life. I shall not pay any visits till I am settled, but when will that be ? ‘
Tra7islation. April 17.
‘ I have found a room, a few yards from Unter den Linden. The house is clean and light, and I like my room very much. I give for it and service and cleaning boots, six thalers (iSj.) a month. It is nicely furnished, and the people of the house are clean and respectable.
‘Your INIax.’
It is evident from his letters to his mother and his Diary that the early part of his time at Berlin was most agreeable. He went into society more than he had done at Leipzig, and was fortunate in having the entree of several very pleasant houses, chief among which was the house of Hensel the artist, married to Mendelssohn’s favourite sister Fanny. The Kriigers, connexions of his own (he was also an artist), were very kind to the young student, and he dined there every Sunday, unless he had any other invitation. His aunt, Julie Hake, also had him to dinner every week. At Berlin, Max Miiller began keeping a journal, and continued it fairly regularly till August. He seems to have dined, when not asked out, at a restaurant, where he paid sixpence for his dinner, which he reports as good. He matriculated as a theologian ! Soon after, he writes: ‘Worked early, but could not concentrate myself; and adds the same evening, * Dreaming, and a little poetry, and a very little work. I must work more in future.’ A few days later he paid his first visit to the Library in search of Sanskrit MSS., which he seems to have been unable to see owing to the absence of the head librarian.
Towards the end of April he met Fontane as an Imperial Grenadier at Kosch’s, where he dined. ‘ He came to me at five, and we talked of many things, and finally of the Divine and Human. He is a fine fellow, and has to submit to a good deal.’ Fontane writes of these times : —
T7-anslalion,
‘ I had a strong affection for Miiller from the first at Leipzig, but we
only became really intimate three years later, when we were both for
1844] Sc helling 23
a time in Berlin, he at his Sanskrit studies, I as a Kaiser Franz Grenadier. He lived then on the third floor of a corner house, close to the Werder’sche Kirche, where he, greatly to his own satisfaction, lodged with a shoemaker. If only the workshop had not been next his room ! The beating of leather went on the whole day long, and Miiller would have lost all patience, but for the wonderful view. The whole town lay like a panorama before him, especially the royal palace with its beautiful gardens. To look at this was a real solace, and he held out against the noise. He already gave promise of becoming some one, and rejoiced in being in especial favour with Friedrich Riickert, who in these years, yielding to the King’s wish, gave lectures at the University. Max Miiller was then translating, among other works, Kalidasa’s Cloud Messettger. If I owe all I know of Russian Literature to Wolfssohn, I owe to Miiller what little I learnt about Sanskrit poetry. He still showed the same, not ironical, but kindly, mischievous temperament which he already possessed in Leipzig.’
Max Miiller had expected great things from Schelling, and in a letter to his mother thus describes his first visit to the great philosopher: —
Translatmi.
‘ I went to announce myself. He receives people at four o’clock. I had not expected much, for I had heard how he had dismissed Jellinick, but I was more fortunate. I asked him if he would continue to lecture next term on the Philosophy of Revelation, He said he could not decide yet, therefore probably only a private lecture again. Then I spoke to him of my time in Leipzig, of Weiss and Brockhaus, and then we came round to Indian Philosophy. Here he allowed me to tell him a good deal. I especially dwelt on the hkeness between Sankhya and his own system, and remarked how an inclination to the Vedanta showed itself. He asked what we must understand by Vedanta, how the existence of God was proved, how God created the world, whether it had reality. He has been much occupied with Cole- brooke’s Assays, and he seemed to wish to learn more, as he asked me if I could explain a text. Then he asked where I was living, knew my father as Greek poet and a worker on Homer, and at last dismissed me with “ Come again soon,” offering to do anything he could for me.’
The following letters give his mother a pleasant account of his life : —
Translation. May, 1844.
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
‘ Hensel’s house is a delightful resort to me, and she is especially
friendly. I go there oftener than I can really spare the time; they
24 Society at Berlin [ch. ii
are always sending me invitations. I was there last Saturday, and they asked me to dinner the next day. I went at twelve, for a large musical matinee; they sang the choruses of the Antigone. Then I stayed in the garden with the tutor, and we played with Hensel a sort of ninepins ; then came dinner, and they asked me to return in the evening, as Oehlenschlager, the German poet, was coming to them, so I spent nearly the whole day there. I have not played there yet, as she has not asked me to do so, but when I told her I wanted to hire a piano, cheap but not bad, she offered to lend me an English one, on which she used to play. He too is most friendly, and has given himself a great deal of trouble to get leave from the Minister for me to have the MSS. to use in my own room, which I hope will soon be granted. The Hakes too are very kind, and I can always dine there, Mondays and Thursdays. I have called besides on Bopp;
Professor Hofer, who will review my Hitopadesa ; Dr. Kuhn, another Sanskritist, to whom Brockhaus recommended me ; Professor Peter- mann, whose lectures on the history of Oriental Literature I attend ;
Professor Schott, with whom I learn Persian ; and I think everything
will go well. I am also going to Schelling, from which my purse
suffers. I have not had time to call again on “ Bettina.” As friends
I have Vogel and Fontane, whom I seldom see except at dinner. At
home I only have bread and butter. I drink coffee without milk or
sugar. I have just received ten copies of the Griechenlieder ; they
are very well printed. So you see I do very well here, and nothing is
wanting but my dear little mother. Now write soon, but don’t say
again you do not like Chemnitz ; a contented spirit is happy any-
where. In the Hitopadesa it says, “ To the man who has leather shoes
on, the whole world is covered with leather.” ‘
Translation. May 22.
‘ Four days in the week I have lectures at eight ; the woman cleans my room, then I stay at home till 1.30, and then dine close here. Then some days I have a lecture at four o’clock, and I am very glad to be living so close to the University, and shall be more so when the real Berlin heat begins.’
Translatioji. May 28.
‘ I have just come from Hensel’s. As you see, I am a pretty con-
stant guest. They are really so good to me, and it is the only house
where I feel “ you would like to go there “ ; generally one feels
“ you must go there.” You say, you are glad that I don’t work so
hard; I can’t quite understand that, for I often don’t know what
I should begin first, when I think of the future and on so much
which I still have to do before I can take any rest. ... I do not
1844] Doubts and Difficulties 25
often see any papers, as the public reading-rooms are so dear; in this respect you are better off in Chemnitz.’
Max Miiller seems soon to have found out the expense of the life at Berlin, and the old doubts whether he could afford the life of a scholar revived. On June 26 he writes to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I must make the most of my time in Berlin, as I cannot stay here more than a year, unless I can find some chance of lessening my expenses. Where I am to go next Easter is not at all certain. I hesitate between Paris, Vienna, and Bonn. I am attracted to Vienna by the thought of studying Persian and Turkish, for which there are better means than in Paris, and they are certainly necessary should I ever have the chance of employment in the East. You can fancy that these plans often disturb me, as for the nearest future I have no certain prospect ; and the University course is so expensive and wearisome, that I cannot reckon on it, as generally for the first three years, that is six years after leaving school, one is not admitted to anything. Well, one must console oneself with the lilies of the field ! ‘
Two days later he writes in his Diary : ‘ I cannot give up Sanskrit, though it holds out no prospect for me.’ Over and over again come the entries in his Diary: ‘All day at home’— ‘no dinner” — ‘dinner of stirred eggs’ (which he pre- pared himself) — ‘ work till 3 a.m.’
At this time he began Bengali, ‘which may perhaps be useful to me later, and is now for comparison with the low Indian dialects. I attend Schelling’s course more diligently and with great interest ; his philosophy has something Oriental about it. I am translating the KatJidka Upanishad for him with great diligence.’
The term at Berlin which had begun so cheerily was now
drawing to an end. Max Miiller had not found pupils or
sufficient employment in copying Sanskrit MSS. to eke out
his small stipend, and just before returning to Chemnitz he
wrote almost despairingly to his mother : — •
Translation. Aug. 19.
‘ I am longing to be away from Berlin, to get a thorough change
of thought, as I really think I had every chance here of becoming
26 Chemnitz [ch. n
a confirmed hypochondriac. This is no mere transitory feeling, but it is founded on my circumstances, which have cost me many sad thoughts latterly, I acknowledge that the plan of life I had formed is not to be reaUzed ; that it is difficult for me to part with all these favourite ideas you can well imagine. And yet I see that it would be folly in my circumstances to attempt a University career. You tell me that I still have 800 thalers ^ (£120), but this would only just last till I had settled where to live, and that I should then have the prospect of living for five years as a tutor (Privatdocent) without any stipend from Government. I should therefore in this way study on to starve, just in order not to give up an idea which I had taken up for my own pleasure, and to which I had sacrificed much money and time. Had I more courage or only anywhere a firm point to cling to, I could perhaps still try my chance, but as it is, nothing remains for me but to become a sensible schoolmaster, which at all events gives one bread and butter. You will feel that a certain amount of resignation is needed for such a decision, and therefore I rejoice all the more at the thought of the next few weeks, which will repay me for many sad hours.’
He spent the vacation at Chemnitz, where the society of his mother and sister cheered and encouraged him. It is not clear how he found funds to finish his course at Berlin, but he probably used part of the small patrimony already alluded to.
He returned to Berlin early in October, and soon after his return received the pleasant news that, in answer to an appeal from his mother for a prolongation of the full pension for a time, the Duke had granted it for another five years. The Duke’s letter was an encouragement to the young scholar to persevere in his chosen path : —
‘ Translation.
‘According to your petition of the twenty-eighth of last month I have ordered that the pension granted you of a hundred thalers shall be continued in full for the next five years, till 1849 inclusive. I hope that your promising son may continue to give you as much cause for joy as hitherto, and I gladly take this opportunity to assure you of my special good wishes.’ Leopold.
‘Dessau, Oct. 10, 1844.’
He writes to his mother again on October 24 : —
^ Some money left by W. Miiller, and religiously guarded by his mother to start him in life.
1844] Hagedorn 27
Translaiioji. Berlin.
‘ I hope you make yourself as happy in the backstream of Hfe as I do. As I sit here in my garret and for days together see no one I know, I fancy myself as a bird alone in its nest on a tall tree, and Leipzig, Chemnitz, and Dessau appear perfect Eldorados. But I am quite happy and amuse myself, by myself, as far as possible. But I must tell you how I kept your birthday. I thought the Hakes would have invited me that we might drink your health together; but as they did not, I invited Fontane for the evening, who brought a friend, and we brewed punch, set your picture on the table, and drank your health right joyously. I have heard from Dessau that I cannot have the scholarship for a seventh term. Well, I have enough for the present, and I think of the birds in the sky ; they have no fire, yet they don’t freeze, but I do freeze.’
This term Max Miiller does not seem to have attended many lectures, but worked in his room on Pali and Hindustani and on translations from the Sanskrit. He finished his transla- tion of the Meghadi’ita, and submitted it both to Riickert and Brockhaus. His MS., with Riickert’s notes in pencil, still exists ; and Brockhaus wrote to him as follows : —
Translation,
‘ I have read your translation with the greatest delight. You have conquered a great difficulty, and reproduced this peculiar artificial poetry in intelligible, and at the same time poetic, language. You have wisely omitted many isolated traits in order to preserve the principal picture, and to give the reader not accustomed to such pictures a clear idea of the whole. Your idea appears to me almost every- where the right one. In a few places, I should take a different view, but you have been able to use explanatory materials with which I am not acquainted, and which, no doubt, justify you in many points.’
Towards the end of November the old family friend, Baron Hagedorn, suddenly appeared in Berlin, and invited Max Mliller to stay with him in Paris, to carry on his Sanskrit work. Baron Hagedorn was born near Dessau in the house of a forester, where his mother left him and never returned. It was evident that his parents were wealthy, as a large sum was yearly paid by a banker in Frankfort for his maintenance.
As a schoolboy he had been boarded with Frau Klausnitzer,
the mother of the Cousin Emilie so often mentioned in
28 Humboldt [ch. h
Max Miiller’s letters, and thus became the intimate friend of the family.
Max writes on his twenty-first birthday to tell his mother of his unexpected happiness : —
Translation, Dec. 6.
‘My dearly loved Mother, — As I am sitting here quite alone on my birthday (the twenty-first) I must give myself at least the delight of writing to those who love me so, and whom I dearly love. And first of all comes my darling little mother. My best thanks for your love and goodness, which in many things are far too great. I wrote to Frau Rath to ask for a letter of introduction from the Duchess to Alexander von Humboldt. Very soon after, Frau Rath wrote in the most friendly way, sending me the Duchess’s letter. I left this with my card for Humboldt. The other day I passed half an hour with him, and a few days later came a letter from him saying I should have the Sanskrit MSS. at home, which ever since Easter I had begged for in vain from the Minister. As to my Meghaduta, it has been a long time with Professor Brockhaus in Leipzig, who at last returned it. I then gave it to Riickert, with whom I am learning Persian, and who remembers my father with great affection. He has given me many valuable hints with regard to versification, and even improved several of the verses himself I shall send it in a few days to Mayer Wigand, as I should like to see it printed before I leave for Paris. I wish I could see you, darling mother, and talk over all the unexpected and undeserved kindness that has been shown me. I went Thursday early to Hagedorn, and we talked over everything ; and the result is he has asked me to go to Paris with him, to live with him there and work. So in about four weeks from to-day I shall be in Paris. Hagedorn will tell you all this himself more fully. The only thing to settle is, shall I come for a few days to Chemnitz before I start? As you can fancy, I should like to do so very much, only I am afraid it would give us more pain than pleasure.’
During the short time Max Miiller still passed in Berlin after receiving the letter of introduction from the Duchess of Dessau, he must have seen Humboldt often enough to impress the great man most favourably ; for on November 27, 1844, Chevalier Bunsen, then Prussian Minister in London, wrote to his friend Archdeacon Hare : —
‘ I have received from a highly respected quarter ^ a very strong
‘ i. e. Humboldt, and also Baroness Stolzenberg, who herself wrote to Bunsen about her young cousin.
1844] Baron Bunsen 29
recommendation of a young man of twenty-two {sic) years of age, much thought of by Schelling. He has made himself known by a new edition of the Hitopadesa from the Sanskrit, and is a general scholar altogether distinguished. He desires to live some years in England. He is the son of the celebrated poet and philologer Wilhelm Miiller (author of the Griechenlieder and Romische Ritornellen), of high moral character, and as far as 1 know of serious convictions.’
In quoting this letter in the Life of her distinguished husband, Baroness Bunsen adds : —
‘ This is the first indication of an important event in the life of Bunsen, the acquaintance which at once became warm friendship with Dr. Max Miiller, now Professor at Oxford ; and his approach is hailed as the rising of a beneficent luminary on the horizon. The kindred mind, their sympathy of heart, the unity in highest aspirations, a congeniality in principle, a fellowship in the pursuit of favourite objects which attracted and bound Bunsen to his young friend, rendered this connexion one of the happiest of his life.’
But nearly two years were to pass before Max Miiller met this friend, patron, and benefactor ; whose kindly influence was to alter the course of his whole life.
CHAPTER III
1845-1846
Paris. Lonely, struggling life. Gathy, Burnouf. Rig-veda.
Rachel. Dvarkanath Tagore. Boehtlingk.
Archdeacon Hare lost no time in responding to the letter of November 27 from Chevalier Bunsen, for we find a note from Max Miiller to the Chevalier dated ‘Chemnitz, January i, 1845,’ which implies that one, if not more letters had already passed between them as to a tutorship in an English family, suggested by the Archdeacon. But we will leave Max to tell his own further story in his Diary.
Translation. Bonn, March 6, 1845.
‘ Once more a new change in my life, and once more an attempt at something definite. My stay in Berlin is over; I have made many and influential friends there — Schelling, Riickert, Humboldt, Bopp, Jacobi, Mendelssohn. IMy views of life become clearer and more sensible, my inner life more active and more independent of outward circumstances. There was not much to be gained in knowledge in Berlin ; the learned men are too learned, too reserved, and do not attempt to gain any influence ; and even the treasures of the Library were long closed to me, till a word from Humboldt put an end to the constant refusals of the librarian Pertz and the Minister. In December Hagedorn came to Berlin and asked me to stay with him in Paris, and just then I received an offer to go as a tutor to London. Great indecision. At length decided on Paris and its pleasant independence, though at the same time I did not refuse all other possible offers.
I had a longing for Paris, and I soon went to Chemnitz, saw Hage-
dorn in Dessau, where he M’as dawdling. I was some time in
Chemnitz and had a good deal of society, balls, sledge-parties, &c.,
but not a word from Hagedorn. So I started at last for Dessau, not
feeling much confidence in Hagedorn. When we met we got on
1845] Ar-rival in Parts 31
very well and settled everything. On February 26 I started for Paris. In Cothen the train was stopped by the snow, and we returned by extra post to Dessau. Here Hagedorn found business letters which kept him. At last, March 3, I started alone for Hanover. The 4th to Elberfeld ; at night by post to Deutz, arriving early in Cologne ; railway to Bonn. Table d’hote in Hotel de Treves ; two English families, whom I could not understand ; very cross. Afternoon to Lassen, not very interesting talk ; five o’clock, lecture by Dahlmann on Publicity, Coming of Age, Jury, &c. ; very remarkable, quiet, no gesticulations, irrefutable, convincing, a skilful man. In Bonn the old topics still going on — Catholicism, the Holy Coat, and Protestantism.
Paris, March 15.
‘ My journey is happily over. I left Bonn on the 6th for Cologne, and started on the 8th for Brussels ; here I found myself already in the midst of French, which I found very troublesome. I stayed the night. On the 9th I started at three o’clock by train. On the way difficulties with the douane and my passport; the loth at three o’clock I arrived in Paris.’
Max MUlIer has himself given us an amusing account of his difficulties on his arrival in Paris, owning to Hagedorn having failed either to write or appear ; and though he stayed in Paris till June, 1846, as Hagedorn never came he lived at his ow^n expense in Hagedorn’s rooms, instead of being his friend’s guest as was at first arranged. If he found economy- necessary in Berlin, it was far more so in Paris, where soon after his arrival he says, ‘ I am spending a lot of money ‘ ; though in his carefully kept accounts there are very few entries but for dinner — for which, unless he went ‘hors la barriere,’ he had to pay two francs — and copying paper, the amount of which shows how hard he was working. His life was very lonely ; he at first knew hardly any one but some of the employes at the Library, and he says, March 17, ‘ I feel very lonely and forsaken, and of Paris I see nothing ‘ ; and again, ‘ Great inertia and fatigue, and out of spirits, no inclination for work ‘ ; and yet he writes cheerily to his mother not to distress her : —
Translation. Paris, April 10, 1845.
‘ Of course I have heard nothing from Hagedorn, and therefore do
not expect to see him very soon. But it is well I did not further
postpone my journey, for Humboldt being here has been of the
32
Hard Work in Paris [ch. m
greatest use to me, and he goes away now very soon. He is kindness itself, and is even thought more of in Paris than in Berlin. It is very difficult to get leave here to take out MSS. to work at at home, and the Prussian Minister, under whose protection I am here — for in Paris no one has heard of such a land as Anhalt Dessau — is so stupid that he has never given his guarantee for such a purpose, whilst all other Ambassadors, even the Turkish, are constantly doing so. Humboldt knew this, but told me he thought I should find his own guarantee considered quite satisfactory ; and it is quite true. I soon had the MSS. in my hands, and was treated in so friendly a way by all the employes, that I was quite astonished, till at last I was told, “ Vous 8tes si vivement recommandd par M. Humboldt, il n’y a pas une meilleure recommandation.” As to the printed books, I have not yet got the permit, but hope soon to do so, though this is more difficult ; leave is seldom given, and all Paris, learned and unlearned, sit in the reading-room, packed like herrings, and read there. I have been now for some time in full swing of work, and only wish there were more strength in the machine, for there is endless work to be done here. You will wish for a description of my life ; that is soon given. I get up early, have breakfast, i. e. bread and butter, no coffee. I stay at home and work till seven, go out and have dinner, come back in an hour, and stay at home and work till I go to bed. So you see I know nothing of Paris but from my appetite, which has got over its first astonishment at the excellence of everything, and now rather wonders that the Paris restaurants are so renowned. But one thing I have seen, that is, that everything in Paris is terribly expensive. With 12,000 francs a year one could live here nicely;
I am afraid I shall hardly work my income up to that. I am on the
whole well, though I must live most economically and avoid every
expense not actually necessary. The free lodging is an immense
help, for unless one lives in a perfect hole, one must pay 50 or 60
francs a month and 10 francs for service, 60 francs dinner, 30 francs
breakfast; this makes 160 francs a month without light and fire, or
friendly. I go there oftener than I can really spare the time; they
24 Society at Berlin [ch. ii
are always sending me invitations. I was there last Saturday, and they asked me to dinner the next day. I went at twelve, for a large musical matinee; they sang the choruses of the Antigone. Then I stayed in the garden with the tutor, and we played with Hensel a sort of ninepins ; then came dinner, and they asked me to return in the evening, as Oehlenschlager, the German poet, was coming to them, so I spent nearly the whole day there. I have not played there yet, as she has not asked me to do so, but when I told her I wanted to hire a piano, cheap but not bad, she offered to lend me an English one, on which she used to play. He too is most friendly, and has given himself a great deal of trouble to get leave from the Minister for me to have the MSS. to use in my own room, which I hope will soon be granted. The Hakes too are very kind, and I can always dine there, Mondays and Thursdays. I have called besides on Bopp;
Professor Hofer, who will review my Hitopadesa ; Dr. Kuhn, another Sanskritist, to whom Brockhaus recommended me ; Professor Peter- mann, whose lectures on the history of Oriental Literature I attend ;
Professor Schott, with whom I learn Persian ; and I think everything
will go well. I am also going to Schelling, from which my purse
suffers. I have not had time to call again on “ Bettina.” As friends
I have Vogel and Fontane, whom I seldom see except at dinner. At
home I only have bread and butter. I drink coffee without milk or
sugar. I have just received ten copies of the Griechenlieder ; they
are very well printed. So you see I do very well here, and nothing is
wanting but my dear little mother. Now write soon, but don’t say
again you do not like Chemnitz ; a contented spirit is happy any-
where. In the Hitopadesa it says, “ To the man who has leather shoes
on, the whole world is covered with leather.” ‘
Translation. May 22.
‘ Four days in the week I have lectures at eight ; the woman cleans my room, then I stay at home till 1.30, and then dine close here. Then some days I have a lecture at four o’clock, and I am very glad to be living so close to the University, and shall be more so when the real Berlin heat begins.’
Translatioji. May 28.
‘ I have just come from Hensel’s. As you see, I am a pretty con-
stant guest. They are really so good to me, and it is the only house
where I feel “ you would like to go there “ ; generally one feels
“ you must go there.” You say, you are glad that I don’t work so
hard; I can’t quite understand that, for I often don’t know what
I should begin first, when I think of the future and on so much
which I still have to do before I can take any rest. ... I do not
1844] Doubts and Difficulties 25
often see any papers, as the public reading-rooms are so dear; in this respect you are better off in Chemnitz.’
Max Miiller seems soon to have found out the expense of the life at Berlin, and the old doubts whether he could afford the life of a scholar revived. On June 26 he writes to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ I must make the most of my time in Berlin, as I cannot stay here more than a year, unless I can find some chance of lessening my expenses. Where I am to go next Easter is not at all certain. I hesitate between Paris, Vienna, and Bonn. I am attracted to Vienna by the thought of studying Persian and Turkish, for which there are better means than in Paris, and they are certainly necessary should I ever have the chance of employment in the East. You can fancy that these plans often disturb me, as for the nearest future I have no certain prospect ; and the University course is so expensive and wearisome, that I cannot reckon on it, as generally for the first three years, that is six years after leaving school, one is not admitted to anything. Well, one must console oneself with the lilies of the field ! ‘
Two days later he writes in his Diary : ‘ I cannot give up Sanskrit, though it holds out no prospect for me.’ Over and over again come the entries in his Diary: ‘All day at home’— ‘no dinner” — ‘dinner of stirred eggs’ (which he pre- pared himself) — ‘ work till 3 a.m.’
At this time he began Bengali, ‘which may perhaps be useful to me later, and is now for comparison with the low Indian dialects. I attend Schelling’s course more diligently and with great interest ; his philosophy has something Oriental about it. I am translating the KatJidka Upanishad for him with great diligence.’
The term at Berlin which had begun so cheerily was now
drawing to an end. Max Miiller had not found pupils or
sufficient employment in copying Sanskrit MSS. to eke out
his small stipend, and just before returning to Chemnitz he
wrote almost despairingly to his mother : — •
Translation. Aug. 19.
‘ I am longing to be away from Berlin, to get a thorough change
of thought, as I really think I had every chance here of becoming
26 Chemnitz [ch. n
a confirmed hypochondriac. This is no mere transitory feeling, but it is founded on my circumstances, which have cost me many sad thoughts latterly, I acknowledge that the plan of life I had formed is not to be reaUzed ; that it is difficult for me to part with all these favourite ideas you can well imagine. And yet I see that it would be folly in my circumstances to attempt a University career. You tell me that I still have 800 thalers ^ (£120), but this would only just last till I had settled where to live, and that I should then have the prospect of living for five years as a tutor (Privatdocent) without any stipend from Government. I should therefore in this way study on to starve, just in order not to give up an idea which I had taken up for my own pleasure, and to which I had sacrificed much money and time. Had I more courage or only anywhere a firm point to cling to, I could perhaps still try my chance, but as it is, nothing remains for me but to become a sensible schoolmaster, which at all events gives one bread and butter. You will feel that a certain amount of resignation is needed for such a decision, and therefore I rejoice all the more at the thought of the next few weeks, which will repay me for many sad hours.’
He spent the vacation at Chemnitz, where the society of his mother and sister cheered and encouraged him. It is not clear how he found funds to finish his course at Berlin, but he probably used part of the small patrimony already alluded to.
He returned to Berlin early in October, and soon after his return received the pleasant news that, in answer to an appeal from his mother for a prolongation of the full pension for a time, the Duke had granted it for another five years. The Duke’s letter was an encouragement to the young scholar to persevere in his chosen path : —
‘ Translation.
‘According to your petition of the twenty-eighth of last month I have ordered that the pension granted you of a hundred thalers shall be continued in full for the next five years, till 1849 inclusive. I hope that your promising son may continue to give you as much cause for joy as hitherto, and I gladly take this opportunity to assure you of my special good wishes.’ Leopold.
‘Dessau, Oct. 10, 1844.’
He writes to his mother again on October 24 : —
^ Some money left by W. Miiller, and religiously guarded by his mother to start him in life.
1844] Hagedorn 27
Translaiioji. Berlin.
‘ I hope you make yourself as happy in the backstream of Hfe as I do. As I sit here in my garret and for days together see no one I know, I fancy myself as a bird alone in its nest on a tall tree, and Leipzig, Chemnitz, and Dessau appear perfect Eldorados. But I am quite happy and amuse myself, by myself, as far as possible. But I must tell you how I kept your birthday. I thought the Hakes would have invited me that we might drink your health together; but as they did not, I invited Fontane for the evening, who brought a friend, and we brewed punch, set your picture on the table, and drank your health right joyously. I have heard from Dessau that I cannot have the scholarship for a seventh term. Well, I have enough for the present, and I think of the birds in the sky ; they have no fire, yet they don’t freeze, but I do freeze.’
This term Max Miiller does not seem to have attended many lectures, but worked in his room on Pali and Hindustani and on translations from the Sanskrit. He finished his transla- tion of the Meghadi’ita, and submitted it both to Riickert and Brockhaus. His MS., with Riickert’s notes in pencil, still exists ; and Brockhaus wrote to him as follows : —
Translation,
‘ I have read your translation with the greatest delight. You have conquered a great difficulty, and reproduced this peculiar artificial poetry in intelligible, and at the same time poetic, language. You have wisely omitted many isolated traits in order to preserve the principal picture, and to give the reader not accustomed to such pictures a clear idea of the whole. Your idea appears to me almost every- where the right one. In a few places, I should take a different view, but you have been able to use explanatory materials with which I am not acquainted, and which, no doubt, justify you in many points.’
Towards the end of November the old family friend, Baron Hagedorn, suddenly appeared in Berlin, and invited Max Mliller to stay with him in Paris, to carry on his Sanskrit work. Baron Hagedorn was born near Dessau in the house of a forester, where his mother left him and never returned. It was evident that his parents were wealthy, as a large sum was yearly paid by a banker in Frankfort for his maintenance.
As a schoolboy he had been boarded with Frau Klausnitzer,
the mother of the Cousin Emilie so often mentioned in
28 Humboldt [ch. h
Max Miiller’s letters, and thus became the intimate friend of the family.
Max writes on his twenty-first birthday to tell his mother of his unexpected happiness : —
Translation, Dec. 6.
‘My dearly loved Mother, — As I am sitting here quite alone on my birthday (the twenty-first) I must give myself at least the delight of writing to those who love me so, and whom I dearly love. And first of all comes my darling little mother. My best thanks for your love and goodness, which in many things are far too great. I wrote to Frau Rath to ask for a letter of introduction from the Duchess to Alexander von Humboldt. Very soon after, Frau Rath wrote in the most friendly way, sending me the Duchess’s letter. I left this with my card for Humboldt. The other day I passed half an hour with him, and a few days later came a letter from him saying I should have the Sanskrit MSS. at home, which ever since Easter I had begged for in vain from the Minister. As to my Meghaduta, it has been a long time with Professor Brockhaus in Leipzig, who at last returned it. I then gave it to Riickert, with whom I am learning Persian, and who remembers my father with great affection. He has given me many valuable hints with regard to versification, and even improved several of the verses himself I shall send it in a few days to Mayer Wigand, as I should like to see it printed before I leave for Paris. I wish I could see you, darling mother, and talk over all the unexpected and undeserved kindness that has been shown me. I went Thursday early to Hagedorn, and we talked over everything ; and the result is he has asked me to go to Paris with him, to live with him there and work. So in about four weeks from to-day I shall be in Paris. Hagedorn will tell you all this himself more fully. The only thing to settle is, shall I come for a few days to Chemnitz before I start? As you can fancy, I should like to do so very much, only I am afraid it would give us more pain than pleasure.’
During the short time Max Miiller still passed in Berlin after receiving the letter of introduction from the Duchess of Dessau, he must have seen Humboldt often enough to impress the great man most favourably ; for on November 27, 1844, Chevalier Bunsen, then Prussian Minister in London, wrote to his friend Archdeacon Hare : —
‘ I have received from a highly respected quarter ^ a very strong
‘ i. e. Humboldt, and also Baroness Stolzenberg, who herself wrote to Bunsen about her young cousin.
1844] Baron Bunsen 29
recommendation of a young man of twenty-two {sic) years of age, much thought of by Schelling. He has made himself known by a new edition of the Hitopadesa from the Sanskrit, and is a general scholar altogether distinguished. He desires to live some years in England. He is the son of the celebrated poet and philologer Wilhelm Miiller (author of the Griechenlieder and Romische Ritornellen), of high moral character, and as far as 1 know of serious convictions.’
In quoting this letter in the Life of her distinguished husband, Baroness Bunsen adds : —
‘ This is the first indication of an important event in the life of Bunsen, the acquaintance which at once became warm friendship with Dr. Max Miiller, now Professor at Oxford ; and his approach is hailed as the rising of a beneficent luminary on the horizon. The kindred mind, their sympathy of heart, the unity in highest aspirations, a congeniality in principle, a fellowship in the pursuit of favourite objects which attracted and bound Bunsen to his young friend, rendered this connexion one of the happiest of his life.’
But nearly two years were to pass before Max Miiller met this friend, patron, and benefactor ; whose kindly influence was to alter the course of his whole life.
CHAPTER III
1845-1846
Paris. Lonely, struggling life. Gathy, Burnouf. Rig-veda.
Rachel. Dvarkanath Tagore. Boehtlingk.
Archdeacon Hare lost no time in responding to the letter of November 27 from Chevalier Bunsen, for we find a note from Max Miiller to the Chevalier dated ‘Chemnitz, January i, 1845,’ which implies that one, if not more letters had already passed between them as to a tutorship in an English family, suggested by the Archdeacon. But we will leave Max to tell his own further story in his Diary.
Translation. Bonn, March 6, 1845.
‘ Once more a new change in my life, and once more an attempt at something definite. My stay in Berlin is over; I have made many and influential friends there — Schelling, Riickert, Humboldt, Bopp, Jacobi, Mendelssohn. IMy views of life become clearer and more sensible, my inner life more active and more independent of outward circumstances. There was not much to be gained in knowledge in Berlin ; the learned men are too learned, too reserved, and do not attempt to gain any influence ; and even the treasures of the Library were long closed to me, till a word from Humboldt put an end to the constant refusals of the librarian Pertz and the Minister. In December Hagedorn came to Berlin and asked me to stay with him in Paris, and just then I received an offer to go as a tutor to London. Great indecision. At length decided on Paris and its pleasant independence, though at the same time I did not refuse all other possible offers.
I had a longing for Paris, and I soon went to Chemnitz, saw Hage-
dorn in Dessau, where he M’as dawdling. I was some time in
Chemnitz and had a good deal of society, balls, sledge-parties, &c.,
but not a word from Hagedorn. So I started at last for Dessau, not
feeling much confidence in Hagedorn. When we met we got on
1845] Ar-rival in Parts 31
very well and settled everything. On February 26 I started for Paris. In Cothen the train was stopped by the snow, and we returned by extra post to Dessau. Here Hagedorn found business letters which kept him. At last, March 3, I started alone for Hanover. The 4th to Elberfeld ; at night by post to Deutz, arriving early in Cologne ; railway to Bonn. Table d’hote in Hotel de Treves ; two English families, whom I could not understand ; very cross. Afternoon to Lassen, not very interesting talk ; five o’clock, lecture by Dahlmann on Publicity, Coming of Age, Jury, &c. ; very remarkable, quiet, no gesticulations, irrefutable, convincing, a skilful man. In Bonn the old topics still going on — Catholicism, the Holy Coat, and Protestantism.
Paris, March 15.
‘ My journey is happily over. I left Bonn on the 6th for Cologne, and started on the 8th for Brussels ; here I found myself already in the midst of French, which I found very troublesome. I stayed the night. On the 9th I started at three o’clock by train. On the way difficulties with the douane and my passport; the loth at three o’clock I arrived in Paris.’
Max MUlIer has himself given us an amusing account of his difficulties on his arrival in Paris, owning to Hagedorn having failed either to write or appear ; and though he stayed in Paris till June, 1846, as Hagedorn never came he lived at his ow^n expense in Hagedorn’s rooms, instead of being his friend’s guest as was at first arranged. If he found economy- necessary in Berlin, it was far more so in Paris, where soon after his arrival he says, ‘ I am spending a lot of money ‘ ; though in his carefully kept accounts there are very few entries but for dinner — for which, unless he went ‘hors la barriere,’ he had to pay two francs — and copying paper, the amount of which shows how hard he was working. His life was very lonely ; he at first knew hardly any one but some of the employes at the Library, and he says, March 17, ‘ I feel very lonely and forsaken, and of Paris I see nothing ‘ ; and again, ‘ Great inertia and fatigue, and out of spirits, no inclination for work ‘ ; and yet he writes cheerily to his mother not to distress her : —
Translation. Paris, April 10, 1845.
‘ Of course I have heard nothing from Hagedorn, and therefore do
not expect to see him very soon. But it is well I did not further
postpone my journey, for Humboldt being here has been of the
32
Hard Work in Paris [ch. m
greatest use to me, and he goes away now very soon. He is kindness itself, and is even thought more of in Paris than in Berlin. It is very difficult to get leave here to take out MSS. to work at at home, and the Prussian Minister, under whose protection I am here — for in Paris no one has heard of such a land as Anhalt Dessau — is so stupid that he has never given his guarantee for such a purpose, whilst all other Ambassadors, even the Turkish, are constantly doing so. Humboldt knew this, but told me he thought I should find his own guarantee considered quite satisfactory ; and it is quite true. I soon had the MSS. in my hands, and was treated in so friendly a way by all the employes, that I was quite astonished, till at last I was told, “ Vous 8tes si vivement recommandd par M. Humboldt, il n’y a pas une meilleure recommandation.” As to the printed books, I have not yet got the permit, but hope soon to do so, though this is more difficult ; leave is seldom given, and all Paris, learned and unlearned, sit in the reading-room, packed like herrings, and read there. I have been now for some time in full swing of work, and only wish there were more strength in the machine, for there is endless work to be done here. You will wish for a description of my life ; that is soon given. I get up early, have breakfast, i. e. bread and butter, no coffee. I stay at home and work till seven, go out and have dinner, come back in an hour, and stay at home and work till I go to bed. So you see I know nothing of Paris but from my appetite, which has got over its first astonishment at the excellence of everything, and now rather wonders that the Paris restaurants are so renowned. But one thing I have seen, that is, that everything in Paris is terribly expensive. With 12,000 francs a year one could live here nicely;
I am afraid I shall hardly work my income up to that. I am on the
whole well, though I must live most economically and avoid every
expense not actually necessary. The free lodging is an immense
help, for unless one lives in a perfect hole, one must pay 50 or 60
francs a month and 10 francs for service, 60 francs dinner, 30 francs
breakfast; this makes 160 francs a month without light and fire, or
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
washing and clothes, nearly 2,000 francs a year. Theatres, caf^s, &c.,
are very dear, particularly for foreigners, who don’t know how to
manage ; so I have not been to any theatre, except one evening, when
I had to pay 2 francs for a cup of chocolate. I thought, “ Never
again.” But don’t think I have nothing to amuse me. I can only
say, one walk on the Boulevards is far better than two evenings at the
Chemnitz theatre. It is a strange feeling to be so entirely strange
among the thousands of faces that pass by one, and for interesting
observation there is no place like this. How often I say to myself,
“ Oh, if mother were only here.” Yesterday and to-day are called in
1845] ^if^ ^^^ Paris 33
the serious world Holy Thursday and Good Friday; here they are called Longchamps, and all Paris is driving out through the Champs !filysdes in their finest clothes, but looking miserable in this cold. The hero of the day is General Tom Thumb ; the Rue Richelieu is blocked the days he receives ; the aristocracy vie with each other in running after him, and of course Louis Philippe at their head. I have seen both heroes without paying — Tom Thumb in his carriage, which is about as big as a child’s go-cart, and the King to-day for the first time when I crossed the Place du Carrousel just as they were on parade, and the old King was riding round bare-headed with all his suite. I was only twenty paces from him ; he has a very characteristic face, full, with thick grey curly hair, but in spite of his dignity some- thing cunning and crafty in his eyes. I see his likeness but too often, that is whenever I have to pay away a five-franc piece, which, alas ! happens frequently. By-the-by I have just paid 50 francs for books ; what do you say to that ? Gathy ^ sent me one day a ticket for a con- cert, where I saw the beau nionde of Paris ; he is most friendly to me. Twice a week I go to lectures at the College de France. It is some way off; but they are very good, and I pay nothing and I hear French spoken, for which otherwise I have hardly any opportunity. But enough of my fife here, which, if on the whole very simple, keeps me in good spirits as you see, and at all events does not as yet interfere with my work. But you can fancy that in this utterly strange land I sometimes feel lonely and forsaken, and would gladly find myself for a few hours in Chemnitz v/ith you all. But the best cure for such thoughts is continuous work, and that I have. And then when I think of you all I feel I am not so far from you ; I know all you would say to me if I were sitting with you, and all that you are often in your thoughts saying to me. Separation loses its bitterness when we have faith in each other and in Godsl Faith in each other keeps us close together in life, and faith in God keeps us together in eternity.’/ But I see I am talking Sanskrit philosophy instead of simply teUing you not to be unhappy, not to make yourself and others uneasy, but try to enjoy life in this lovely spring weather, whether in Chemnitz or Dresden. How gladly I would have put something in the letter for Auguste’s birthday from the Paris shops, for the sight of the splendid and tastefully arranged windows is most tempting. But, alas ! my purse suffers from chronic consumption; you know this family complaint, which has followed me to Paris.’
Max Miiller’s first visit to Burnouf was paid on March 20,
and was the beginning of a friendship to which he looked
^ His childhood’s friend. See p. 5.
I D
34 Burnouf — Humboldt [ch. m
back with affectionate gratitude to the last year of his
life.
Diary.
Translation.
‘ Went to Burnouf. Spiritual, amiable, thoroughly French. He re- ceived me in the most friendly way, talked a great deal, and all he said valuable, not on ordinary topics but on special. I managed better in French than I expected. “I am a Brahman, a Buddhist, a Zoroastrian ; I hate the Jesuits “ — that is the sort of man. I am looking forward to his lectures.’
Max Mliller describes his teacher as
‘ Small, his face decidedly German, only lighted up with a constant sparkle which is distinctively French. I must have seemed very stupid to him when I tried to explain what I really wanted to do in Paris. He told me afterwards that he could not make me out at first. His lectures were on the Rig-veda, and opened a new world to me. He explained to us his own researches, he showed us new MSS. which he had received from India, in fact he did ail he could to make us fellow workers.’
In Burnouf’s select class Max Miiller met men who, many of them, remained his firm friends through life, as Barthelemy- St.-Hilaire, the Abbe Bardelli, Thomas Goldstiicker, and a few others. Max Miiller survived them all. When he was in Paris for the Centenary of the Institute in 1895 he paid a long visit to Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire, finding him, as had been his custom for years, sitting by lamplight with the daylight care- fully excluded. The old man, then ninety years of age, died soon after, and his friend wrote an eloquent and appreciative account of his life and work in the Times of November 29, 1 895.
Max Miiller recalls also a visit to Humboldt, whom he found at the College de France : ‘ His friendliness and true kindness make me feel quite shy; I hardly know what to say. “ If you were only a little more practical in your views,” he said, which startled me. He then wrote a long letter to Reinaud and gave me his Cosmos to read, and left me with reiterated assurances of his wish to help me.’
Max seems to have gone through a good deal of drudgery
in mastering French, and often took refuge with Gathy, ‘ to
make up by talking German the tortures I suffer in talking
French.’ Another day he says, ‘ I did hardly anything but
study this abominable language ; how much time I have
1845] Rig-veda 35
wasted on it ! yet it is necessary that I should get some
fluency in expressing myself/ Gathy occasionally gave him
a concert ticket, and he speaks of amusing himself by making
walks of discovery about Paris : ‘ and people look at me, and
I know no one ; it seems as if I hardly belong to the genus of
animaux sociables’
He appears to have found it difficult at first to decide on the distinctive work he should take up ; ‘ the same life, which has almost become unbearable ; I long for work to occupy my mind.’ He read a good deal of French. Balzac: ‘all his works that I know treat of the analysis, the anatomy of love, before and after marriage ; he knows married life and dissects it with artistic skill.’ Paul de Kock : * colourless babyish reading, often droll, some characters well conceived.’ It was the influence of Burnouf that decided him to take up the Hymns of the Rig-veda^ with the great native commentary of Sayana, as his distinctive work. ‘ Either study Indian philosophy or study Indian religion and copy the Hymns and Sayana,’ said Burnouf. To the youth of only twenty- one, knowing hardly half a dozen people, living alone up five flights of stairs, often not speaking to a soul for twenty-four hours round, life may well have seemed dreary ; and yet he never for one moment really regretted the choice he had made, and his old master. Professor Brockhaus, gave him constant encouragement. Brockhaus writes from Leipzig : —
Translation. June 4, 1845.
‘ You have delighted me very much by the few lines you have sent me from Paris, from which I see with what active interest you pursue your study of Sanskrit. It is very natural that you should turn to the Vedas with decided preference ; one becomes more and more attached to these old monuments the more one studies them, and when once one can survey them as a whole, they make a much more powerful impression than one would expect from isolated fragments.’
He never allowed his letters to his mother to show the fierce struggle it was to live.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, Afqy 5.
‘ One’s money runs away here, one does not know how, and though
of course it costs one more in the beginning, the daily wants do not
D 2,
36 Work in Parts [ch. m
lessen. That I am as saving as possible you may be sure, for it is my greatest wish to stay here as long as possible, where I have found so much necessary to my studies. On amusements I have really spent nothing, and have not yet been to Versailles, or other places round, though I am often tempted when I see the great placards on the walls ; but that is easily set aside if I can attain my other object. I shall not order any summer things, for I need not make myself smart, that is one advantage of being unknown.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Vkkis, June 11, 1845.
‘ Have I already told you that I am collecdng here the materials for an edition of the oldest Veda, and gather together everything I can find ? This is the oldest and most important book in India, perhaps the oldest book that exists. The Commentary written in Sanskrit fills four folios, each of a thousand pages, which must all be copied out and compared with other MSS., and this is the most important and necessary work. Now I must see what I can do — only health and money, that is the question. I have lately met a Sanskrit scholar here who has been three years in Paris, and has just come back from London. We have worked a great deal together, and I have for some weeks been with him day and night, which my portier takes very ill, and I certainly could not make him understand that I had been doing nothing but work ; altogether there are odd rumours about Monsieur Max, as I am called, who drinks no coffee early, eats till evening only two dry rolls (the butter is knocked off), and writes Hebrew the whole day.’
When copying MSS. for others his plan was to work the whole night through, and the second night only sleep two hours on his bed without undressing, the third night to go to bed and then begin again. He had told his mother nothing of what he calls in his Diary an abominable time from April 26 to May 4, when he suffered frightfully and without inter- mission from toothache. ‘ I could do nothing, neither write, nor eat, nor go out. I felt abandoned by every one, no one to pity me or take care of me.’ At length he crawled to Gathy, who sent him to a dentist. ‘ I went home quite exhausted ; the portier and his daughter took endless care of me when they saw how weak and suffering I was, and brought me broth and chocolate. It was a black week.’
All this time no news came from his uncertain friend
Hagedorn, and his want of money soon began to cause him
1845] Hard Struggles 37
great anxiety. ‘ It was indeed a hard struggle, far harder than those who have known me in later life would believe. It was a hard fight, and cannot have been very good for me physically, but I do not regret it now ; often did I go without my dinner, being quite satisfied with boiled eggs and bread and butter.’ He had chosen his own line, and instead of settling down in Germany as a teacher in some school with a fixed salary, as most of his friends wished, or going as tutor to England, he had taken the tiny patrimony still left him after the expenses of the University, and had determined to carry on his beloved Sanskrit studies. ‘ It was in my own hands whether I should sink or swim.’ There is a passage in an American novel, The Increasing Purpose^ by J. A. Allen, which exactly applies to Max Miiller’s struggles in Paris and London, and the effect on his whole character for life. One could almost fancy Mr. Allen had known him. Speaking of a man choosing his work in life, Allen says :—
‘ Yet happy ye, whether the waiting be for short time or long time, if only it bring on meanwhile the struggle. One sure reward you have then, though there may be none other, just the struggle, and the marshalling to the front of rightful forces, with effort, endurance, devotion, the putting resolutely back of forces wrongful, the hardening of all that is soft within, the softening of all that is hard ; until out of the hardening and the softening resuk the better tempering of the soul’s metal, and higher development of those two qualities which are best in man, and best in his ideal of his Maker, strength and kindness, power and mercy. Real struggling is itself real living, and no en- nobling thing of this earth is ever to be had by man on any other terms ; . . . a divine end is to be reached, through divine means, a great work requires a great preparation.’
The four years Max Midler spent after leaving his mother at Leipzig were this time of preparation, by means of a great struggle, for the brilliant success of his after- life.
It is pleasant to read of a little variety in a life of such incessant work, when in October, 1845, a friend took him one night to the Theatre Fran9ais, where he saw Rachel in Plicdre.
To HIS JMOTHER.
Translation.
‘ She is a wonderful actress in her own style, but the part of Phbdre
38 Dvarkanath Tagore [ch. m
is so horrible, that though one must admire the perfection of repre- sentation, one has no real enjoyment from it. Then from the begin- ning to the end Rachel was nothing but a pale shadow whose only life is passion and despair, but passion which fails in all tragic effect because it has no influence on one’s own feelings. It is a crude and painful passion with which she is possessed, and in which there is nothing to awake our sympathy. It is a tragedy which, on the Greek stage only, could represent men in their struggle with fate, with blind unalterable fate, which avenges the sin of the father in the sex of Ph^dre ; if this one moral motive is wanting, as on the French stage, the whole loses its deep meaning, and nothing remains but the sensual longing, which is neither great nor elevating. Then Rachel stood alone ; the other actors were but foils to her. After that — so charac- teristic of the French, who like to see everything without feeling any- thing — came a comedy of Molibre, Le M^decin malgre lui, which was very well played.’
One most interesting acquaintance Max Miiller made in Paris, Dvarkanath Tagore, a rich Hindoo, who, though no student of ancient Sanskrit himself, took a lively interest in the young scholar presented to him by Burnouf at the Institut de France. He invited Max Miiller to his house, and they spent many an hour together talking or enjoying music, for the Hindoo was a good musician, had a fine voice, and had been fairly well taught. He liked Max Miiller to accompany him when singing either Italian or French music. After a time he was persuaded to sing Persian and real Indian music, and when his hearer confessed that he saw no beauty in it, neither melody, rhythm, nor harmony, his Indian friend lectured him on the prejudices of Western nations, who turn away from all that is strange and unpleasing to them. Max pacified him by assuring him that he knew that India possessed a remarkable science of music founded on mathematics. He was present at the great party given by Dvarkanath Tagore to Louis Philippe, when the room was hung with Indian shawls, afterwards distributed among the most distinguished guests. It was at this time also that Max Miiller saw a good deal of Baron d’Eckstein, who em- ployed him frequently in copying MSS. for him.
All this while Max Miiller was working hard in preparing
a correct text of the Hymns of the Rig-vcda, together with
1845] Rig-veda 39
a perfect text of Sayana’s Commentary, and the work was so far advanced that the question of a publisher had to be con- sidered. It required a large capital to print and publish a work of six thousand pages quarto, and at the same time pay the editor enough to live on. The idea of publication by a publisher at Konigsberg, with the help of subscriptions, which is mentioned in the letters to his mother, and for which a prospectus was actually printed and circulated from London, was abandoned, when in the spring of 1847 the East India Company undertook the task. The following letter to his mother gives an account of his plans and prospects to the close of 1845 ‘• —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, Dec. 23, 1845.
‘ You know on the whole a great deal about my work, but less on the plans that depend on it. As the printing of the Veda could not be undertaken by any publisher on account of the cost and length of the work, I was obliged, though there is no chance of printing for the next two or three years, to apply to several Governments and Academies, to find out how such a work could best be carried out. I therefore made inquiries through friends in London and St. Peters- burg, and received tolerably reassuring answers from both places.
In London, Wilson, the father of Sanskrit literature, declared himself
ready to get the work undertaken by the University of Oxford ; but
only on condition that he should publish the text of the Rig-veda, and
I, in conjunction with other young Sanskrit students, the text of the
Commentary, which is really the most important work, and fills about
eight thousand pages. This, as far as it went, was very well and
a great honour ; but as the two other students were leaving London,
one for Petersburg, the other for Tubingen, it was necessary I should
settle in London, and for that I have no money. At the same time
Herr Boehtlingk wrote from Petersburg that he could persuade the
Academy to print the work, but with a condition that I worked with
him, and gave up the publication of the text to him. As the publica-
tion of the text is, as I said, of litde scientific importance, only for the
credit of being the first to publish the full text of the Veda, I wrote
that I was ready to accept the offer if a sum of money were promised
me, to recoup me for the expense of copying this enormous Com-
mentary, and other books necessary for reference, or that a place
should be found for me in Petersburg, where I should have to live,
which would enable me in a few years to put by enough to repay
40 Baron von Cetto [ch. m
myself. To this I have had no answer. At the same time I thought
of Berhn, and wrote to Humboldt and Bopp, and sent them a detailed
prospectus of my work, and asked if any of the rich funds there could
be applied to printing the Commentary. Humboldt soon sent me
a very kind letter, in which indeed he gave no definite results, but said
he thought it was impossible in Prussia, and urged me emphatically
to accept the invitation from London or from Petersburg. This was
the state of things, when within the last few days I received from
Hase, one of the sub-librarians of the Bibliothbque Royale, a sugges-
tion to go as tutor with the Bavarian Minister, Baron von Cetto, to
London. Unexpected as the idea was, I at once resolved to do
everything I could to obtain the post, and for the last few days have
been in communication with the Baron, who is in Paris. Everything
seemed arranged, when this morning, at the last visit, I discovered that
the post was impossible for me, as he required me to promise, in
writing, that I would never be away from the children for an hour,
never go anywhere without them ; in fact I should have led a monastic
life. Strongly as I felt it was my duty to do all that was in my power
to secure a post in which I could gain my own living, and deeply as
the feeling has weighed on me, more especially of late, of being a
burden to others, and well as I knew that to many of my relations
such a post would appear most advantageous, such regulations seemed
to me so degrading and foolish that I told his Excellency so, and took
my leave. I was quite ready, though I dislike teaching, to take the
post. It was a good one, all expenses paid and 3,000 francs ; and then
I should be in London, which however necessary for my work seemed
unattainable in any other way, and before everything else it was a certain
substantial position, which would free me from many disagreeables,
and in which, instead of taking money from you, my dearest mother,
I could have given you some little pleasure. But it was impossible,
unless I sacrificed my whole future, and wasted the little I have
already done ; and I hope that as I feel I have little to reproach myself
with, I shall not be blamed by others. I shall work on till I hear
something definite from London or Petersburg ; if neither negotiation
leads to definite results, I must return next spring to Germany, and
settle down in Berlin, or more probably in Konigsberg. That I have
not thought much of myself in all this you will see, as I was ready to
go into exile for four or five years, without any chance of seeing you,
are very dear, particularly for foreigners, who don’t know how to
manage ; so I have not been to any theatre, except one evening, when
I had to pay 2 francs for a cup of chocolate. I thought, “ Never
again.” But don’t think I have nothing to amuse me. I can only
say, one walk on the Boulevards is far better than two evenings at the
Chemnitz theatre. It is a strange feeling to be so entirely strange
among the thousands of faces that pass by one, and for interesting
observation there is no place like this. How often I say to myself,
“ Oh, if mother were only here.” Yesterday and to-day are called in
1845] ^if^ ^^^ Paris 33
the serious world Holy Thursday and Good Friday; here they are called Longchamps, and all Paris is driving out through the Champs !filysdes in their finest clothes, but looking miserable in this cold. The hero of the day is General Tom Thumb ; the Rue Richelieu is blocked the days he receives ; the aristocracy vie with each other in running after him, and of course Louis Philippe at their head. I have seen both heroes without paying — Tom Thumb in his carriage, which is about as big as a child’s go-cart, and the King to-day for the first time when I crossed the Place du Carrousel just as they were on parade, and the old King was riding round bare-headed with all his suite. I was only twenty paces from him ; he has a very characteristic face, full, with thick grey curly hair, but in spite of his dignity some- thing cunning and crafty in his eyes. I see his likeness but too often, that is whenever I have to pay away a five-franc piece, which, alas ! happens frequently. By-the-by I have just paid 50 francs for books ; what do you say to that ? Gathy ^ sent me one day a ticket for a con- cert, where I saw the beau nionde of Paris ; he is most friendly to me. Twice a week I go to lectures at the College de France. It is some way off; but they are very good, and I pay nothing and I hear French spoken, for which otherwise I have hardly any opportunity. But enough of my fife here, which, if on the whole very simple, keeps me in good spirits as you see, and at all events does not as yet interfere with my work. But you can fancy that in this utterly strange land I sometimes feel lonely and forsaken, and would gladly find myself for a few hours in Chemnitz v/ith you all. But the best cure for such thoughts is continuous work, and that I have. And then when I think of you all I feel I am not so far from you ; I know all you would say to me if I were sitting with you, and all that you are often in your thoughts saying to me. Separation loses its bitterness when we have faith in each other and in Godsl Faith in each other keeps us close together in life, and faith in God keeps us together in eternity.’/ But I see I am talking Sanskrit philosophy instead of simply teUing you not to be unhappy, not to make yourself and others uneasy, but try to enjoy life in this lovely spring weather, whether in Chemnitz or Dresden. How gladly I would have put something in the letter for Auguste’s birthday from the Paris shops, for the sight of the splendid and tastefully arranged windows is most tempting. But, alas ! my purse suffers from chronic consumption; you know this family complaint, which has followed me to Paris.’
Max Miiller’s first visit to Burnouf was paid on March 20,
and was the beginning of a friendship to which he looked
^ His childhood’s friend. See p. 5.
I D
34 Burnouf — Humboldt [ch. m
back with affectionate gratitude to the last year of his
life.
Diary.
Translation.
‘ Went to Burnouf. Spiritual, amiable, thoroughly French. He re- ceived me in the most friendly way, talked a great deal, and all he said valuable, not on ordinary topics but on special. I managed better in French than I expected. “I am a Brahman, a Buddhist, a Zoroastrian ; I hate the Jesuits “ — that is the sort of man. I am looking forward to his lectures.’
Max Mliller describes his teacher as
‘ Small, his face decidedly German, only lighted up with a constant sparkle which is distinctively French. I must have seemed very stupid to him when I tried to explain what I really wanted to do in Paris. He told me afterwards that he could not make me out at first. His lectures were on the Rig-veda, and opened a new world to me. He explained to us his own researches, he showed us new MSS. which he had received from India, in fact he did ail he could to make us fellow workers.’
In Burnouf’s select class Max Miiller met men who, many of them, remained his firm friends through life, as Barthelemy- St.-Hilaire, the Abbe Bardelli, Thomas Goldstiicker, and a few others. Max Miiller survived them all. When he was in Paris for the Centenary of the Institute in 1895 he paid a long visit to Barthelemy-St.-Hilaire, finding him, as had been his custom for years, sitting by lamplight with the daylight care- fully excluded. The old man, then ninety years of age, died soon after, and his friend wrote an eloquent and appreciative account of his life and work in the Times of November 29, 1 895.
Max Miiller recalls also a visit to Humboldt, whom he found at the College de France : ‘ His friendliness and true kindness make me feel quite shy; I hardly know what to say. “ If you were only a little more practical in your views,” he said, which startled me. He then wrote a long letter to Reinaud and gave me his Cosmos to read, and left me with reiterated assurances of his wish to help me.’
Max seems to have gone through a good deal of drudgery
in mastering French, and often took refuge with Gathy, ‘ to
make up by talking German the tortures I suffer in talking
French.’ Another day he says, ‘ I did hardly anything but
study this abominable language ; how much time I have
1845] Rig-veda 35
wasted on it ! yet it is necessary that I should get some
fluency in expressing myself/ Gathy occasionally gave him
a concert ticket, and he speaks of amusing himself by making
walks of discovery about Paris : ‘ and people look at me, and
I know no one ; it seems as if I hardly belong to the genus of
animaux sociables’
He appears to have found it difficult at first to decide on the distinctive work he should take up ; ‘ the same life, which has almost become unbearable ; I long for work to occupy my mind.’ He read a good deal of French. Balzac: ‘all his works that I know treat of the analysis, the anatomy of love, before and after marriage ; he knows married life and dissects it with artistic skill.’ Paul de Kock : * colourless babyish reading, often droll, some characters well conceived.’ It was the influence of Burnouf that decided him to take up the Hymns of the Rig-veda^ with the great native commentary of Sayana, as his distinctive work. ‘ Either study Indian philosophy or study Indian religion and copy the Hymns and Sayana,’ said Burnouf. To the youth of only twenty- one, knowing hardly half a dozen people, living alone up five flights of stairs, often not speaking to a soul for twenty-four hours round, life may well have seemed dreary ; and yet he never for one moment really regretted the choice he had made, and his old master. Professor Brockhaus, gave him constant encouragement. Brockhaus writes from Leipzig : —
Translation. June 4, 1845.
‘ You have delighted me very much by the few lines you have sent me from Paris, from which I see with what active interest you pursue your study of Sanskrit. It is very natural that you should turn to the Vedas with decided preference ; one becomes more and more attached to these old monuments the more one studies them, and when once one can survey them as a whole, they make a much more powerful impression than one would expect from isolated fragments.’
He never allowed his letters to his mother to show the fierce struggle it was to live.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, Afqy 5.
‘ One’s money runs away here, one does not know how, and though
of course it costs one more in the beginning, the daily wants do not
D 2,
36 Work in Parts [ch. m
lessen. That I am as saving as possible you may be sure, for it is my greatest wish to stay here as long as possible, where I have found so much necessary to my studies. On amusements I have really spent nothing, and have not yet been to Versailles, or other places round, though I am often tempted when I see the great placards on the walls ; but that is easily set aside if I can attain my other object. I shall not order any summer things, for I need not make myself smart, that is one advantage of being unknown.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Vkkis, June 11, 1845.
‘ Have I already told you that I am collecdng here the materials for an edition of the oldest Veda, and gather together everything I can find ? This is the oldest and most important book in India, perhaps the oldest book that exists. The Commentary written in Sanskrit fills four folios, each of a thousand pages, which must all be copied out and compared with other MSS., and this is the most important and necessary work. Now I must see what I can do — only health and money, that is the question. I have lately met a Sanskrit scholar here who has been three years in Paris, and has just come back from London. We have worked a great deal together, and I have for some weeks been with him day and night, which my portier takes very ill, and I certainly could not make him understand that I had been doing nothing but work ; altogether there are odd rumours about Monsieur Max, as I am called, who drinks no coffee early, eats till evening only two dry rolls (the butter is knocked off), and writes Hebrew the whole day.’
When copying MSS. for others his plan was to work the whole night through, and the second night only sleep two hours on his bed without undressing, the third night to go to bed and then begin again. He had told his mother nothing of what he calls in his Diary an abominable time from April 26 to May 4, when he suffered frightfully and without inter- mission from toothache. ‘ I could do nothing, neither write, nor eat, nor go out. I felt abandoned by every one, no one to pity me or take care of me.’ At length he crawled to Gathy, who sent him to a dentist. ‘ I went home quite exhausted ; the portier and his daughter took endless care of me when they saw how weak and suffering I was, and brought me broth and chocolate. It was a black week.’
All this time no news came from his uncertain friend
Hagedorn, and his want of money soon began to cause him
1845] Hard Struggles 37
great anxiety. ‘ It was indeed a hard struggle, far harder than those who have known me in later life would believe. It was a hard fight, and cannot have been very good for me physically, but I do not regret it now ; often did I go without my dinner, being quite satisfied with boiled eggs and bread and butter.’ He had chosen his own line, and instead of settling down in Germany as a teacher in some school with a fixed salary, as most of his friends wished, or going as tutor to England, he had taken the tiny patrimony still left him after the expenses of the University, and had determined to carry on his beloved Sanskrit studies. ‘ It was in my own hands whether I should sink or swim.’ There is a passage in an American novel, The Increasing Purpose^ by J. A. Allen, which exactly applies to Max Miiller’s struggles in Paris and London, and the effect on his whole character for life. One could almost fancy Mr. Allen had known him. Speaking of a man choosing his work in life, Allen says :—
‘ Yet happy ye, whether the waiting be for short time or long time, if only it bring on meanwhile the struggle. One sure reward you have then, though there may be none other, just the struggle, and the marshalling to the front of rightful forces, with effort, endurance, devotion, the putting resolutely back of forces wrongful, the hardening of all that is soft within, the softening of all that is hard ; until out of the hardening and the softening resuk the better tempering of the soul’s metal, and higher development of those two qualities which are best in man, and best in his ideal of his Maker, strength and kindness, power and mercy. Real struggling is itself real living, and no en- nobling thing of this earth is ever to be had by man on any other terms ; . . . a divine end is to be reached, through divine means, a great work requires a great preparation.’
The four years Max Midler spent after leaving his mother at Leipzig were this time of preparation, by means of a great struggle, for the brilliant success of his after- life.
It is pleasant to read of a little variety in a life of such incessant work, when in October, 1845, a friend took him one night to the Theatre Fran9ais, where he saw Rachel in Plicdre.
To HIS JMOTHER.
Translation.
‘ She is a wonderful actress in her own style, but the part of Phbdre
38 Dvarkanath Tagore [ch. m
is so horrible, that though one must admire the perfection of repre- sentation, one has no real enjoyment from it. Then from the begin- ning to the end Rachel was nothing but a pale shadow whose only life is passion and despair, but passion which fails in all tragic effect because it has no influence on one’s own feelings. It is a crude and painful passion with which she is possessed, and in which there is nothing to awake our sympathy. It is a tragedy which, on the Greek stage only, could represent men in their struggle with fate, with blind unalterable fate, which avenges the sin of the father in the sex of Ph^dre ; if this one moral motive is wanting, as on the French stage, the whole loses its deep meaning, and nothing remains but the sensual longing, which is neither great nor elevating. Then Rachel stood alone ; the other actors were but foils to her. After that — so charac- teristic of the French, who like to see everything without feeling any- thing — came a comedy of Molibre, Le M^decin malgre lui, which was very well played.’
One most interesting acquaintance Max Miiller made in Paris, Dvarkanath Tagore, a rich Hindoo, who, though no student of ancient Sanskrit himself, took a lively interest in the young scholar presented to him by Burnouf at the Institut de France. He invited Max Miiller to his house, and they spent many an hour together talking or enjoying music, for the Hindoo was a good musician, had a fine voice, and had been fairly well taught. He liked Max Miiller to accompany him when singing either Italian or French music. After a time he was persuaded to sing Persian and real Indian music, and when his hearer confessed that he saw no beauty in it, neither melody, rhythm, nor harmony, his Indian friend lectured him on the prejudices of Western nations, who turn away from all that is strange and unpleasing to them. Max pacified him by assuring him that he knew that India possessed a remarkable science of music founded on mathematics. He was present at the great party given by Dvarkanath Tagore to Louis Philippe, when the room was hung with Indian shawls, afterwards distributed among the most distinguished guests. It was at this time also that Max Miiller saw a good deal of Baron d’Eckstein, who em- ployed him frequently in copying MSS. for him.
All this while Max Miiller was working hard in preparing
a correct text of the Hymns of the Rig-vcda, together with
1845] Rig-veda 39
a perfect text of Sayana’s Commentary, and the work was so far advanced that the question of a publisher had to be con- sidered. It required a large capital to print and publish a work of six thousand pages quarto, and at the same time pay the editor enough to live on. The idea of publication by a publisher at Konigsberg, with the help of subscriptions, which is mentioned in the letters to his mother, and for which a prospectus was actually printed and circulated from London, was abandoned, when in the spring of 1847 the East India Company undertook the task. The following letter to his mother gives an account of his plans and prospects to the close of 1845 ‘• —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, Dec. 23, 1845.
‘ You know on the whole a great deal about my work, but less on the plans that depend on it. As the printing of the Veda could not be undertaken by any publisher on account of the cost and length of the work, I was obliged, though there is no chance of printing for the next two or three years, to apply to several Governments and Academies, to find out how such a work could best be carried out. I therefore made inquiries through friends in London and St. Peters- burg, and received tolerably reassuring answers from both places.
In London, Wilson, the father of Sanskrit literature, declared himself
ready to get the work undertaken by the University of Oxford ; but
only on condition that he should publish the text of the Rig-veda, and
I, in conjunction with other young Sanskrit students, the text of the
Commentary, which is really the most important work, and fills about
eight thousand pages. This, as far as it went, was very well and
a great honour ; but as the two other students were leaving London,
one for Petersburg, the other for Tubingen, it was necessary I should
settle in London, and for that I have no money. At the same time
Herr Boehtlingk wrote from Petersburg that he could persuade the
Academy to print the work, but with a condition that I worked with
him, and gave up the publication of the text to him. As the publica-
tion of the text is, as I said, of litde scientific importance, only for the
credit of being the first to publish the full text of the Veda, I wrote
that I was ready to accept the offer if a sum of money were promised
me, to recoup me for the expense of copying this enormous Com-
mentary, and other books necessary for reference, or that a place
should be found for me in Petersburg, where I should have to live,
which would enable me in a few years to put by enough to repay
40 Baron von Cetto [ch. m
myself. To this I have had no answer. At the same time I thought
of Berhn, and wrote to Humboldt and Bopp, and sent them a detailed
prospectus of my work, and asked if any of the rich funds there could
be applied to printing the Commentary. Humboldt soon sent me
a very kind letter, in which indeed he gave no definite results, but said
he thought it was impossible in Prussia, and urged me emphatically
to accept the invitation from London or from Petersburg. This was
the state of things, when within the last few days I received from
Hase, one of the sub-librarians of the Bibliothbque Royale, a sugges-
tion to go as tutor with the Bavarian Minister, Baron von Cetto, to
London. Unexpected as the idea was, I at once resolved to do
everything I could to obtain the post, and for the last few days have
been in communication with the Baron, who is in Paris. Everything
seemed arranged, when this morning, at the last visit, I discovered that
the post was impossible for me, as he required me to promise, in
writing, that I would never be away from the children for an hour,
never go anywhere without them ; in fact I should have led a monastic
life. Strongly as I felt it was my duty to do all that was in my power
to secure a post in which I could gain my own living, and deeply as
the feeling has weighed on me, more especially of late, of being a
burden to others, and well as I knew that to many of my relations
such a post would appear most advantageous, such regulations seemed
to me so degrading and foolish that I told his Excellency so, and took
my leave. I was quite ready, though I dislike teaching, to take the
post. It was a good one, all expenses paid and 3,000 francs ; and then
I should be in London, which however necessary for my work seemed
unattainable in any other way, and before everything else it was a certain
substantial position, which would free me from many disagreeables,
and in which, instead of taking money from you, my dearest mother,
I could have given you some little pleasure. But it was impossible,
unless I sacrificed my whole future, and wasted the little I have
already done ; and I hope that as I feel I have little to reproach myself
with, I shall not be blamed by others. I shall work on till I hear
something definite from London or Petersburg ; if neither negotiation
leads to definite results, I must return next spring to Germany, and
settle down in Berlin, or more probably in Konigsberg. That I have
not thought much of myself in all this you will see, as I was ready to
go into exile for four or five years, without any chance of seeing you,
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
my dearest mother, or seeing or speaking to any creature belonging
to me. They have been trying days through which I have lately lived,
and trying nights too, in which I struggled to subdue my heart and
intellect, with all my inclinations and ambitions, that I might do what
really seemed my duty; and even now, when I can breathe freely,
1845] Humboldt \\
I feel the pressure, for I have learnt that life is difficult, and why ? because of that cursed money, which so many throw away, which makes thousands miserable, and very few happy ; yes, there must be a curse on money that is not won by honest toil. But enough of these lamentations, which are of no use, least of all in Paris. Melan- choly and frivolity are the two scales in which men here go up and down ; happy he who sits in the middle quiet and observant as an Indian Muni. Now for Paris. In the first place, I have moved now and lost my beautiful view and look into the court. The rooms are good, fifth floor; changing was very tiresome and very dear, and I have had many difficulties, caused by Hagedorn’s silence, and had to arrange about his furniture and everything. As he never writes, I have again had to get 200 francs from Lederhose, and with the money you have just sent shall manage till January or February. I have sent away my piano, for it cost too much. I can well fancy that you think life here very expensive. I have been told it is dearer in Berlin, but in Berlin one can manage economies better than here ; it is the actual necessaries of life that cost so much in Paris. My birthday went by very quietly. Gathy came early to see me, and I fetched some cakes and a bottle of wine which was in Hagedorn’s cellar, which, bon g?-/, mal gre, he had to contribute as a birthday present, and we drank my health. My Christmas will be very quiet and lonely, for it is not o. festa here. I think I shall go to bed at six o’clock and dream. This old year has gone faster than any before, and I was really amazed when I said to myself, I am twenty-two years old. My wish for the New Year is a speedy joyful meeting.’
The letter from Humboldt mentioned above runs thus : —
Translation. Berlin, December 8, 1845.
I hasten — though only in a few lines, for I am harassed by many
duties — to thank you, dear doctor, for your kind keepsake ^ I
seriously advise you to accept the offer made to you from England
or Russia. After all my inquiries, and knowing what I do about
the amount of contribution which may be expected from the Govern-
ment here, it does not seem to me in the least likely that even
Bopp and Lassen, Professors of different Universities and personally
devoted to this special work, could send you means to print a thousand
pages of the Veda. Life here is so much more prosaic, and it is
inadvisable to raise misgivings or qualms . . . and your well-considered
and well-written prospectus contains hints of spoliation. Here one
is so cosmopolitan that one does not care where the Veda may
appear, whether in Germany, Oxford, Paris, or St. Petersburg,
• M. M.’s translation of the HUopadha.
42 Future Plans [ch. m
I know many of your promising writings, and as I am proud of possessing warm German national feelings, I am sorry that I cannot send you a more satisfactory answer to your request. With kind regards, yours A. v. Humboldt.
Just after the last letter to his mother, Max MUller was taken ill with influenza and rheumatism, and for a whole month was unable to work or do anything. He explains his further plans to his mother in the following letter : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. February 17, 1846.
‘ I have been quite ill. I got a bad chill early in January (chiefly by being up in the cold nights hunting fleas), and the whole month had so much rheumatism in my head and back that I had at last to go to bed, and there for several days I was very feverish. The worst is that I have lost a whole month’s work, for I got so weak I could not hold a pen. And imagine all that time, the swarms of fleas which would have driven a strong man almost mad. As soon as I was a little better, I sent for the landlord, and told him I would give up the rooms at once, if the whole were not properly cleaned out. This has been done, the wooden panels taken down and the walls behind washed with aqua fortis, every room fresh papered and varnished ; the worst was I had to go to an hotel, for the smell was so strong. It is still like autumn here, no snow, no frost, but sitting still at work I use a good deal of wood. I have put up a stove, for the open fire is only for ornament. The season is nearly at an end, I have been out a good deal, as I have made many acquain- tances; one goes at nine and is home by eleven, unless there is dancing, when one is home at one o’clock. It is not very amusing, and there is nothing to eat, only tea and cake and a little coloured water, and it does not pay for one’s gloves. I did not have a doctor when I was ill, or any servant, though many days I was almost starved, for if I wanted anything I had to go out and fetch it myself. I have lately made friends with an Indian here, with whom I practise talking English and Bengali. I had already studied the latter, and have prepared a Bengali Grammar in French, but as yet I have not found a publisher. As to my plans, they are pretty nearly settled.
For London and Berlin I have not money enough, and I had
a most friendly letter from Bopp, in which he openly said that all
he might be able to do for me in Berlin was to find money enough
to publish extracts from the great Commentary. Then came a letter
from Boehtlingk from Petersburg, requiring a definite answer to lay
1846] St. Petersburg 43
before the Academy. I should find there the means to print with Boehtlingk the text and Commentary, He writes that if I first took a post as private tutor, which he had found a good plan, some place under Government might be found for me. The Academy had sent for MSS. from India for the work; in fact everything, with one or two exceptions, seems so promising that I have decided to go there. I shall find six Sanskritists in Petersburg, of whom I know two, who write to me that they lead a very pleasant and busy life there. I have asked (for Russians are not to be trusted) for a written transcript of the decree of the Academy, and shall not start until I have received it. I don’t know how much longer I shall be in Paris. But I must know how my money matters stand ; I don’t know how much money I have left. If the Petersburg plan succeeds I need trouble no one, but if I return to Berlin, which Bopp advised, I must borrow some money and start as a tutor (Privatdocent). I cannot say how I long to go to London, but I cannot manage it. When the Petersburg plan is settled I will write to the Duchess^ for introductions, for they are of great use in Russia. I went to the Theatre the other night and saw an operetta, the Domino Noir ; then, on Emilie’s recommenda- tion, I went to the Masked Ball at the Opera House ; it was odious, vulgar people, wretched dresses, noise, tumult, and horrible atmo- sphere, and at the end every one was drunk. I shall never go again. The music was excellent. I am busy learning Italian with my Italian Sanskritist, an Abbd, who is longing to convert me. Burnouf I see often, and he is very good to me. I wonder where I shall pitch my tent.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Paris, Easier, 1846.
‘ Now I must tell you about Petersburg. I received another letter
(they each cost five francs), to say that the cost of printing was pro-
vided for, and enclosing a copy of the proch-verbal of the Meeting
of the Academy. It ran thus: “ IMonsieur Boehtlingk, Member of the
Academy, will publish conjointly with Monsieur Miiller of Paris the
Veda,” &c. At the same time I was asked if I would take a place in
the Museum of the Academy, rooms and firing, and 1,200 francs
a year pay ; of course I had to decide at once, and had many points
to consider. First, I did not approve of conjointly, and I was afraid
from what I was told of St. Petersburg, that if I was once there
conjointly would turn out to be something very different. Boehtlingk
has again quarrelled with Bopp, and does not seem dependable, so
that Burnouf and all other Sanskritists advised me to give it up. As
^ Of Anhalt Dessau.
44 St. Petersburg [ch. hi
to the place at the Museum, Boehtlingk had already written to me that I could not live on the pay, and must give private lessons, so that a great deal of time must be sacrificed to earning my bread. And after all one goes to Russia if one ?7iust, but then one must sell oneself as dear as possible, and I could see that a long stay there would in itself cut me off from a return to Germany, If one has the good luck to be born in Germany, or any other civilized country, one ought not lightly to throw away this blessing, and the satisfying quiet life of a German Professor outweighs with me a Russian Privy Councillorship, with all its orders and titles. So I wrote I could not take such a post, and that as far as printing the Veda was concerned, I kept to my earlier written conditions, the acceptance of which the Academy must send direct to me in writing, using my own words. I am pretty certain this will not be done, but that is no matter, for I h.diVe just had a letter from a bookseller, Samter in Konigsberg, who has set up a Sanskrit printing office, and who will print my whole work, and if possible pay me something for it. This must depend upon subscriptions, which he would open, so that I should gain my point in Germany. And now I will honestly confess I long for quiet and for home ; and a life in Russia, so forsaken of God and man, would be a terrible sacrifice on my part, which one must be ready to make for science and personal usefulness, but which one need not exactly seek out.’
It was necessary to give these letters in extenso, as in 1891
Boehtlingk attacked Max Miiller and accused him of having
behaved at this time discourteously towards [d’ avoir brusque)
the Academy of St. Petersburg. From the first, Burnouf and
GoldstUcker warned Max Miiller against accepting any offer
from Boehtlingk, but, despairing of other means of getting
the Veda printed, he was ready to close with the offer on
condition that some provision was secured for him whilst he
was working with Boehtlingk, The latter seems to have
first proposed to the Academy that they should buy the
MSS. and materials which Max Miiller had collected for his
Vedic work, after they had been sent to St. Petersburg for in-
spection, and that the post of Assistant Keeper of the St. Peters-
burg Museum should be given him ; but Boehtlingk says his
colleagues demurred, and kindly adds the reason, ‘because so
young and unknown a person could not be safely trusted
with the custody of the treasures of the Museum.’ One
1846] Boehtlingk 45
cannot but wonder with what sort of men they had Hved ! All the correspondence carried on was with Boehtlingk, not with the Academy, which never made Max Miiller a definite offer. How then could he have been discourteous to the Academy ? The conditions he made were that the Academy should give him in writing an undertaking to complete the work of bringing out the Rig-veda. No doubt this con- dition was suggested by the distrust which Burnouf and others felt about the whole matter. The Academy would not accept this condition, and there the matter broke off. One fails to see why Boehtlingk was so angry with Max Miiller for not telling him he had received an offer from a German bookseller to publish the Rig-veda by subscription, after he had stated to the Academy the conditions on which he could join Boehtlingk, and which the Academy rejected. As in his sAJ^i’^^to^^vit dXtTiO)^ {Max Midler als My tJien-Dichter), Boehtlingk is most anxious to prove that ‘ under the Peters- burg Academy only the representative of Sanskrit in the Academy could be meant’; one could understand his feeling personally disappointed, but one fails again to see any insult to the Academy in proposing the conditions named above. Is it not rather the other way? The Academy, according to Boehtlingk, refused to place in the Museum a man trusted and admired by Humboldt, Bopp, Brockhaus, and Burnouf. If ‘ the Academy ‘ meant ‘ only the representative of Sanskrit in that body,’ Max Miiller, after this curious refusal, was right to follow the advice of Burnouf and Goldstiicker, and have nothing more to do with him. ‘ Burnouf repeatedly warned me against Boehtlingk, and promised if I would only stay in Paris to give me his support with Guizot,’ says the Anto- hiograpJiy. Boehtlingk boasts in his attack on Max Miiller that he had prevented his ever being made a Correspondent of the Academy of St. Petersburg, and it has the distinction of being the only Society of real note throughout Europe where his name does not appear. When Boehtlingk’s attack came out in 1891 Max Miiller wrote to the Secretary of the Academy giving an explanation. The Secretary wrote the following answer : —
‘ N’ayant pu porter a la connaissance de la Conference de I’Aca-
46 BoehtUngk [ch. m
d^mie que lors de la r^ouverture de ses stances votre honor^e lettre et votre nn^morandum, qui me sont parvenus en dte, je suis charg6 par la Conference de vous informer, Monsieur, que la brochure de Mr. Bohtlingk a ii^ publi^e personnellement par lui sans le concours de I’Acaddmie en quoi que cela soit, et I’auteur n’a meme fait aucune communication a I’Acad^mie par rapport a cette publication, ni avant, ni aprbs son impression, de sorte que I’Acaddmie ne se trouve en rien solidaire avec les opinions ^mises par Mr. Bohtlingk. D’autre part, I’Acaddmie, n’ayant a son grand regret jamais eu I’occasion d’entrer en relations directes avec vous, honor^ Monsieur, il ne peut meme pas 6tre question de m^sentendu entre la Conference de I’Acad^mie et I’illustre sanscritologue, que notre Acaddmie apprdcie k sa juste valeur.
‘ Veuillez agr^er, honor^ Monsieur, I’assurance de mes sentiments les plus distingu^s. Le Secretaire perpetuel.’
The whole of this affair is well summed up by an English-
man, a good German scholar, who has carefully examined all
Boehtlingk’s letters. ‘ It is clear that Max Miiller had come to
no agreement with Boehtlingk. The risks incurred by a young
scholar going to St. Petersburg without some assured means
of livelihood were obviously considerable, and Max Miiller
evidently regarded these as a last resource. After the warn-
ings he had received, he was certainly not to be blamed for
asking Boehtlingk, before he agreed to go, for a guarantee
that the edition should be completed. This quite reasonable
request was refused, and the project consequently came to
an end. During the negotiations Max Miiller was perfectly
justified in continuing to look out for a publisher in Germany,
or England, who would offer him more advantageous con-
ditions. Boehtlingk’s assumption that his own plan would
be carried out was premature, and he had begun collating
MSS. of the text of the Rig-vcda before any bargain had
been concluded with Max Miiller. Boehtlingk had not
originally meant to edit the Rig-veda, but after he had
taken the matter in hand, he was evidently annoyed at having
gone so far himself when the negotiations came to an end,
representing the request for a guarantee of completion as a
slight to the Academy. It was only natural that Max
Miiller should have wished to publish the whole work him-
self, if he could obtain the means of doing so. He entertained
1846] Going to London 47
the idea of collaboration only because compelled to do so by circumstances.* Dr. Boehtlingk made his attack in 1891 when he was in friendly correspondence with Professor Max Miiller, and did not even send him a copy of his pamphlet. He had destroyed all Max Miiller’s letters in 1868, his own letters exist, and by no means bear out Boehtlingk ‘s version of the whole affair, which was drawn from an unsound and somewhat tainted memory.
A month later than the last letter to his mother, Max Miiller found that he had saved enough money for a short visit to England, and the next letter speaks of his happy prospects.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, May 24.
‘ My prospects in London are good, and everything well arranged. I cannot state when I go, as I expect a letter from Hagedorn about his rooms^ which should arrive on the 7th. Then I go straight to London. Baron von Cetto has written to me three times from there with new proposals. Perhaps I shall give private lessons, but am sure to make a little money by Sanskrit commissions. The prospectus for my work will be published in London in five languages, German, English, French, Bengali, and Sanskrit. It will be printed in Konigs- berg. A few days ago I received offers of support from the German Oriental Society, of which I am a member, as well as from the Soci^te Asiatique in Paris. They offered money towards printing, and as this is no longer needed, I hope to have something for myself I have written to Humboldt. Burnouf has done so too, and Dr. Gold- stiicker hopes to see him about it in Berlin. I am rejoiced at going to London, and shall stay as long as I can. But whatever happens I will not stay away another whole year without once seeing you, were it but for an hour. In all that I think and do I remember you always, my dear mother, and it is my greatest joy to be any pleasure to you. I need only patience and courage ! One must bend or break, and perhaps we shall find a pleasanter corner than St. Peters- burg in which to spend the next twenty-five years. Your Max.’
He went for three weeks, and lived in England above fifty-four years.
CHAPTER IV
1846-1847
London. W. H. Russell. Bunsen. Visit to Germany. East India Company and the Rig-veda. British Association.
Translatmi. 46, Essex Street, Strand, London,
June 13, 1846.
‘ My dear Mother, — Here I am really in London ; but I hardly know how to write, my heart is so full of all I have heard and seen. So I will only say, I arrived safe without being swallowed up by the world-encompassing ocean. I left Paris on the 9th, at 5 p.m., by diligence. I had met with such kindness on all sides, and had so many invitations, that it was difficult to get away. My neighbours at table gave me a dinner, so did the Marrins, Burnouf, Countess Berthoer, whom I do not think I have mentioned to you. She is a young and very agreeable woman, whose husband was killed eight months ago in Algiers. She was for some time in Lidia, and is very musical, and we have played and smoked a great deal together. Many friends came with me to the post-house, and I drove away with rather a heavy heart. I had many expenses those last days, and I am all the more grateful for the thirty thalers you put up with the shirts ; the orange sugar was confiscated on the frontier — which will make you very angry, as it made me. So I left Paris, travelled the whole night, and arrived at 1 1 a.m. in Boulogne. At last from far off I saw the dancing, widespread sea, and I had hardly patience to get down at the hotel, but set off at once for a walk along the shore. Vou know that no words can describe its wondrous beauty.
I wandered about for five hours, till I was forced to return to the
hotel from sheer hunger. At ten at night I went on board a ship,
bound direct for London. It was almost full moon, and the sea
was smooth and beautiful, and except for a short time of misery
I really enjoyed it. We got into the Thames early in the morning ;
and you can have no idea of the life and traffic. The river was
1846] Dr. William Russell 49
alive with ships, among them huge three-masted vessels. Thus we reached the Custom House, where all my books and papers were turned out. I took a cab, and looked for lodgings, which I soon found in a pleasant, respectable street. I have a room on the first floor, looking on the street, for which I pay los. a week. The house belongs to a tailor, and as yet I am fairly comfortable. In the morning I make my tea, and dine at four or five o’clock for is. 6d. I have been running about paying visits, but found hardly any one at home. To-morrow I shall call at Bunsen’s and on Baron von Cetto. To-day I went to the East India House, where Wilson was very kind, and invited me to dinner. I have been to the British Museum, and made some pleasant acquaintances. Now I have my MSS. at home, and am happily settled in quiet to work. I shall do all I can to give private lessons, for German money does not go far here. I always hope for the best, and I shall manage. Only think that I am in London, that I have seen Hyde Park, St. James’s Palace, St. Paul’s, Westminster, and the Tower ! It seems to me impossible, and I am most fortunate; how well all goes with me, how far beyond all I deserve ! Write to me soon ; that is the one thing left to wish for. Life here is very wonderful, and so different from Paris. I find the language very difficult, but I shall soon manage it. Yesterday evening I spent with an Englishman, a reporter for the Times, whose acquaintance I have made, and who has already been most helpful and kind to me. I am so tired with running about that I am nearly asleep, and don’t know whether you can read my scrawl.
‘Your M.’
It will be seen by the above letter that Max Miiller did not enter into all details in writing to his mother. The life was so different to anything to which she was accustomed, and required so much explanation, that we often find him passing over things well known to his friends on the spot. He does not recount above his first meeting with his kind friend and benefactor, the famous Times correspondent, Dr. now Sir William Russell, whose own pen shall describe the event: —
202, Cromwell Road, S.W.,
October 8, 1901.
• Dear Mrs. Max Muller, — My daughter is writing for me ; I have to use her pen, conscious that I have too long delayed fulfilling the promise I made to recall the incidents connected with my first acquaintance with my ever dear friend, your husband.
I E
50 Arrival in England [ch. iv
‘Early in June, 1846, I was in France, and was summoned back to take charge of the Parliamentary Committee on Railway Bills. I took my passage on board a steamer which went direct from Boulogne to London, landing passengers at the Custom House above Blackwall. I distinctly remember the interest I took in a young man, a little younger than myself, who was very anxious to ascertain the names of the places on the river which the steamer passed on her way from the Downs up to the Docks. He was evidently a foreigner, and had some difficulty in making himself understood by the mate, who appeared to have him in charge. I had observed him during a rather rough passage seated on the deck and holding on by one of the stays, evidently engaged in a contest with the advanced posts of mal de ?ner, but he resisted stoutly, and by the time we entered smooth water he was conqueror. He was neatly and carefully dressed in a suit which showed his erect, slight, but well-built figure to advan- tage ; the expression of his face was most engaging, regular features, fine intelligent eyes, no trace of whiskers, beard, or moustache, but thick dark hair under his felt hat ; an alert air and penetrating looks. Some casual question which he addressed to one of the passengers produced a very misleading answer, and I ventured to give the true explanation of the vessels which were moored in the Downs, waiting for favourable wind or tide. The melancholy look which had attracted my attention when we were in mid-channel as he sat holding on to a rope had vanished ; there was something to look at and to inquire about. Soon we became on good terms, and he told me that he was going to England to pursue his labours in Oriental literature ; whilst I informed him that I was a law student residing in the Middle Temple. At the Custom House there was, I remember, some trouble about passports, and my companion produced a paper in which his name was set forth as Max Miiller — an official document which satisfied the authorities. But he was soon in much distress ; his portmanteau could not be found; he told me it contained all his worldly goods, with his letters and papers, and that it would be ruin to him if it were not forthcoming. All the passengers’ luggage was overhauled, and still not a trace of the missing trunk. I\Iy newly made friend was in serious anxiety, and I felt for him deeply.
What could he do ? an utter stranger with very little money about him,
to me. They have been trying days through which I have lately lived,
and trying nights too, in which I struggled to subdue my heart and
intellect, with all my inclinations and ambitions, that I might do what
really seemed my duty; and even now, when I can breathe freely,
1845] Humboldt \\
I feel the pressure, for I have learnt that life is difficult, and why ? because of that cursed money, which so many throw away, which makes thousands miserable, and very few happy ; yes, there must be a curse on money that is not won by honest toil. But enough of these lamentations, which are of no use, least of all in Paris. Melan- choly and frivolity are the two scales in which men here go up and down ; happy he who sits in the middle quiet and observant as an Indian Muni. Now for Paris. In the first place, I have moved now and lost my beautiful view and look into the court. The rooms are good, fifth floor; changing was very tiresome and very dear, and I have had many difficulties, caused by Hagedorn’s silence, and had to arrange about his furniture and everything. As he never writes, I have again had to get 200 francs from Lederhose, and with the money you have just sent shall manage till January or February. I have sent away my piano, for it cost too much. I can well fancy that you think life here very expensive. I have been told it is dearer in Berlin, but in Berlin one can manage economies better than here ; it is the actual necessaries of life that cost so much in Paris. My birthday went by very quietly. Gathy came early to see me, and I fetched some cakes and a bottle of wine which was in Hagedorn’s cellar, which, bon g?-/, mal gre, he had to contribute as a birthday present, and we drank my health. My Christmas will be very quiet and lonely, for it is not o. festa here. I think I shall go to bed at six o’clock and dream. This old year has gone faster than any before, and I was really amazed when I said to myself, I am twenty-two years old. My wish for the New Year is a speedy joyful meeting.’
The letter from Humboldt mentioned above runs thus : —
Translation. Berlin, December 8, 1845.
I hasten — though only in a few lines, for I am harassed by many
duties — to thank you, dear doctor, for your kind keepsake ^ I
seriously advise you to accept the offer made to you from England
or Russia. After all my inquiries, and knowing what I do about
the amount of contribution which may be expected from the Govern-
ment here, it does not seem to me in the least likely that even
Bopp and Lassen, Professors of different Universities and personally
devoted to this special work, could send you means to print a thousand
pages of the Veda. Life here is so much more prosaic, and it is
inadvisable to raise misgivings or qualms . . . and your well-considered
and well-written prospectus contains hints of spoliation. Here one
is so cosmopolitan that one does not care where the Veda may
appear, whether in Germany, Oxford, Paris, or St. Petersburg,
• M. M.’s translation of the HUopadha.
42 Future Plans [ch. m
I know many of your promising writings, and as I am proud of possessing warm German national feelings, I am sorry that I cannot send you a more satisfactory answer to your request. With kind regards, yours A. v. Humboldt.
Just after the last letter to his mother, Max MUller was taken ill with influenza and rheumatism, and for a whole month was unable to work or do anything. He explains his further plans to his mother in the following letter : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. February 17, 1846.
‘ I have been quite ill. I got a bad chill early in January (chiefly by being up in the cold nights hunting fleas), and the whole month had so much rheumatism in my head and back that I had at last to go to bed, and there for several days I was very feverish. The worst is that I have lost a whole month’s work, for I got so weak I could not hold a pen. And imagine all that time, the swarms of fleas which would have driven a strong man almost mad. As soon as I was a little better, I sent for the landlord, and told him I would give up the rooms at once, if the whole were not properly cleaned out. This has been done, the wooden panels taken down and the walls behind washed with aqua fortis, every room fresh papered and varnished ; the worst was I had to go to an hotel, for the smell was so strong. It is still like autumn here, no snow, no frost, but sitting still at work I use a good deal of wood. I have put up a stove, for the open fire is only for ornament. The season is nearly at an end, I have been out a good deal, as I have made many acquain- tances; one goes at nine and is home by eleven, unless there is dancing, when one is home at one o’clock. It is not very amusing, and there is nothing to eat, only tea and cake and a little coloured water, and it does not pay for one’s gloves. I did not have a doctor when I was ill, or any servant, though many days I was almost starved, for if I wanted anything I had to go out and fetch it myself. I have lately made friends with an Indian here, with whom I practise talking English and Bengali. I had already studied the latter, and have prepared a Bengali Grammar in French, but as yet I have not found a publisher. As to my plans, they are pretty nearly settled.
For London and Berlin I have not money enough, and I had
a most friendly letter from Bopp, in which he openly said that all
he might be able to do for me in Berlin was to find money enough
to publish extracts from the great Commentary. Then came a letter
from Boehtlingk from Petersburg, requiring a definite answer to lay
1846] St. Petersburg 43
before the Academy. I should find there the means to print with Boehtlingk the text and Commentary, He writes that if I first took a post as private tutor, which he had found a good plan, some place under Government might be found for me. The Academy had sent for MSS. from India for the work; in fact everything, with one or two exceptions, seems so promising that I have decided to go there. I shall find six Sanskritists in Petersburg, of whom I know two, who write to me that they lead a very pleasant and busy life there. I have asked (for Russians are not to be trusted) for a written transcript of the decree of the Academy, and shall not start until I have received it. I don’t know how much longer I shall be in Paris. But I must know how my money matters stand ; I don’t know how much money I have left. If the Petersburg plan succeeds I need trouble no one, but if I return to Berlin, which Bopp advised, I must borrow some money and start as a tutor (Privatdocent). I cannot say how I long to go to London, but I cannot manage it. When the Petersburg plan is settled I will write to the Duchess^ for introductions, for they are of great use in Russia. I went to the Theatre the other night and saw an operetta, the Domino Noir ; then, on Emilie’s recommenda- tion, I went to the Masked Ball at the Opera House ; it was odious, vulgar people, wretched dresses, noise, tumult, and horrible atmo- sphere, and at the end every one was drunk. I shall never go again. The music was excellent. I am busy learning Italian with my Italian Sanskritist, an Abbd, who is longing to convert me. Burnouf I see often, and he is very good to me. I wonder where I shall pitch my tent.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Paris, Easier, 1846.
‘ Now I must tell you about Petersburg. I received another letter
(they each cost five francs), to say that the cost of printing was pro-
vided for, and enclosing a copy of the proch-verbal of the Meeting
of the Academy. It ran thus: “ IMonsieur Boehtlingk, Member of the
Academy, will publish conjointly with Monsieur Miiller of Paris the
Veda,” &c. At the same time I was asked if I would take a place in
the Museum of the Academy, rooms and firing, and 1,200 francs
a year pay ; of course I had to decide at once, and had many points
to consider. First, I did not approve of conjointly, and I was afraid
from what I was told of St. Petersburg, that if I was once there
conjointly would turn out to be something very different. Boehtlingk
has again quarrelled with Bopp, and does not seem dependable, so
that Burnouf and all other Sanskritists advised me to give it up. As
^ Of Anhalt Dessau.
44 St. Petersburg [ch. hi
to the place at the Museum, Boehtlingk had already written to me that I could not live on the pay, and must give private lessons, so that a great deal of time must be sacrificed to earning my bread. And after all one goes to Russia if one ?7iust, but then one must sell oneself as dear as possible, and I could see that a long stay there would in itself cut me off from a return to Germany, If one has the good luck to be born in Germany, or any other civilized country, one ought not lightly to throw away this blessing, and the satisfying quiet life of a German Professor outweighs with me a Russian Privy Councillorship, with all its orders and titles. So I wrote I could not take such a post, and that as far as printing the Veda was concerned, I kept to my earlier written conditions, the acceptance of which the Academy must send direct to me in writing, using my own words. I am pretty certain this will not be done, but that is no matter, for I h.diVe just had a letter from a bookseller, Samter in Konigsberg, who has set up a Sanskrit printing office, and who will print my whole work, and if possible pay me something for it. This must depend upon subscriptions, which he would open, so that I should gain my point in Germany. And now I will honestly confess I long for quiet and for home ; and a life in Russia, so forsaken of God and man, would be a terrible sacrifice on my part, which one must be ready to make for science and personal usefulness, but which one need not exactly seek out.’
It was necessary to give these letters in extenso, as in 1891
Boehtlingk attacked Max Miiller and accused him of having
behaved at this time discourteously towards [d’ avoir brusque)
the Academy of St. Petersburg. From the first, Burnouf and
GoldstUcker warned Max Miiller against accepting any offer
from Boehtlingk, but, despairing of other means of getting
the Veda printed, he was ready to close with the offer on
condition that some provision was secured for him whilst he
was working with Boehtlingk, The latter seems to have
first proposed to the Academy that they should buy the
MSS. and materials which Max Miiller had collected for his
Vedic work, after they had been sent to St. Petersburg for in-
spection, and that the post of Assistant Keeper of the St. Peters-
burg Museum should be given him ; but Boehtlingk says his
colleagues demurred, and kindly adds the reason, ‘because so
young and unknown a person could not be safely trusted
with the custody of the treasures of the Museum.’ One
1846] Boehtlingk 45
cannot but wonder with what sort of men they had Hved ! All the correspondence carried on was with Boehtlingk, not with the Academy, which never made Max Miiller a definite offer. How then could he have been discourteous to the Academy ? The conditions he made were that the Academy should give him in writing an undertaking to complete the work of bringing out the Rig-veda. No doubt this con- dition was suggested by the distrust which Burnouf and others felt about the whole matter. The Academy would not accept this condition, and there the matter broke off. One fails to see why Boehtlingk was so angry with Max Miiller for not telling him he had received an offer from a German bookseller to publish the Rig-veda by subscription, after he had stated to the Academy the conditions on which he could join Boehtlingk, and which the Academy rejected. As in his sAJ^i’^^to^^vit dXtTiO)^ {Max Midler als My tJien-Dichter), Boehtlingk is most anxious to prove that ‘ under the Peters- burg Academy only the representative of Sanskrit in the Academy could be meant’; one could understand his feeling personally disappointed, but one fails again to see any insult to the Academy in proposing the conditions named above. Is it not rather the other way? The Academy, according to Boehtlingk, refused to place in the Museum a man trusted and admired by Humboldt, Bopp, Brockhaus, and Burnouf. If ‘ the Academy ‘ meant ‘ only the representative of Sanskrit in that body,’ Max Miiller, after this curious refusal, was right to follow the advice of Burnouf and Goldstiicker, and have nothing more to do with him. ‘ Burnouf repeatedly warned me against Boehtlingk, and promised if I would only stay in Paris to give me his support with Guizot,’ says the Anto- hiograpJiy. Boehtlingk boasts in his attack on Max Miiller that he had prevented his ever being made a Correspondent of the Academy of St. Petersburg, and it has the distinction of being the only Society of real note throughout Europe where his name does not appear. When Boehtlingk’s attack came out in 1891 Max Miiller wrote to the Secretary of the Academy giving an explanation. The Secretary wrote the following answer : —
‘ N’ayant pu porter a la connaissance de la Conference de I’Aca-
46 BoehtUngk [ch. m
d^mie que lors de la r^ouverture de ses stances votre honor^e lettre et votre nn^morandum, qui me sont parvenus en dte, je suis charg6 par la Conference de vous informer, Monsieur, que la brochure de Mr. Bohtlingk a ii^ publi^e personnellement par lui sans le concours de I’Acaddmie en quoi que cela soit, et I’auteur n’a meme fait aucune communication a I’Acad^mie par rapport a cette publication, ni avant, ni aprbs son impression, de sorte que I’Acaddmie ne se trouve en rien solidaire avec les opinions ^mises par Mr. Bohtlingk. D’autre part, I’Acaddmie, n’ayant a son grand regret jamais eu I’occasion d’entrer en relations directes avec vous, honor^ Monsieur, il ne peut meme pas 6tre question de m^sentendu entre la Conference de I’Acad^mie et I’illustre sanscritologue, que notre Acaddmie apprdcie k sa juste valeur.
‘ Veuillez agr^er, honor^ Monsieur, I’assurance de mes sentiments les plus distingu^s. Le Secretaire perpetuel.’
The whole of this affair is well summed up by an English-
man, a good German scholar, who has carefully examined all
Boehtlingk’s letters. ‘ It is clear that Max Miiller had come to
no agreement with Boehtlingk. The risks incurred by a young
scholar going to St. Petersburg without some assured means
of livelihood were obviously considerable, and Max Miiller
evidently regarded these as a last resource. After the warn-
ings he had received, he was certainly not to be blamed for
asking Boehtlingk, before he agreed to go, for a guarantee
that the edition should be completed. This quite reasonable
request was refused, and the project consequently came to
an end. During the negotiations Max Miiller was perfectly
justified in continuing to look out for a publisher in Germany,
or England, who would offer him more advantageous con-
ditions. Boehtlingk’s assumption that his own plan would
be carried out was premature, and he had begun collating
MSS. of the text of the Rig-vcda before any bargain had
been concluded with Max Miiller. Boehtlingk had not
originally meant to edit the Rig-veda, but after he had
taken the matter in hand, he was evidently annoyed at having
gone so far himself when the negotiations came to an end,
representing the request for a guarantee of completion as a
slight to the Academy. It was only natural that Max
Miiller should have wished to publish the whole work him-
self, if he could obtain the means of doing so. He entertained
1846] Going to London 47
the idea of collaboration only because compelled to do so by circumstances.* Dr. Boehtlingk made his attack in 1891 when he was in friendly correspondence with Professor Max Miiller, and did not even send him a copy of his pamphlet. He had destroyed all Max Miiller’s letters in 1868, his own letters exist, and by no means bear out Boehtlingk ‘s version of the whole affair, which was drawn from an unsound and somewhat tainted memory.
A month later than the last letter to his mother, Max Miiller found that he had saved enough money for a short visit to England, and the next letter speaks of his happy prospects.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Paris, May 24.
‘ My prospects in London are good, and everything well arranged. I cannot state when I go, as I expect a letter from Hagedorn about his rooms^ which should arrive on the 7th. Then I go straight to London. Baron von Cetto has written to me three times from there with new proposals. Perhaps I shall give private lessons, but am sure to make a little money by Sanskrit commissions. The prospectus for my work will be published in London in five languages, German, English, French, Bengali, and Sanskrit. It will be printed in Konigs- berg. A few days ago I received offers of support from the German Oriental Society, of which I am a member, as well as from the Soci^te Asiatique in Paris. They offered money towards printing, and as this is no longer needed, I hope to have something for myself I have written to Humboldt. Burnouf has done so too, and Dr. Gold- stiicker hopes to see him about it in Berlin. I am rejoiced at going to London, and shall stay as long as I can. But whatever happens I will not stay away another whole year without once seeing you, were it but for an hour. In all that I think and do I remember you always, my dear mother, and it is my greatest joy to be any pleasure to you. I need only patience and courage ! One must bend or break, and perhaps we shall find a pleasanter corner than St. Peters- burg in which to spend the next twenty-five years. Your Max.’
He went for three weeks, and lived in England above fifty-four years.
CHAPTER IV
1846-1847
London. W. H. Russell. Bunsen. Visit to Germany. East India Company and the Rig-veda. British Association.
Translatmi. 46, Essex Street, Strand, London,
June 13, 1846.
‘ My dear Mother, — Here I am really in London ; but I hardly know how to write, my heart is so full of all I have heard and seen. So I will only say, I arrived safe without being swallowed up by the world-encompassing ocean. I left Paris on the 9th, at 5 p.m., by diligence. I had met with such kindness on all sides, and had so many invitations, that it was difficult to get away. My neighbours at table gave me a dinner, so did the Marrins, Burnouf, Countess Berthoer, whom I do not think I have mentioned to you. She is a young and very agreeable woman, whose husband was killed eight months ago in Algiers. She was for some time in Lidia, and is very musical, and we have played and smoked a great deal together. Many friends came with me to the post-house, and I drove away with rather a heavy heart. I had many expenses those last days, and I am all the more grateful for the thirty thalers you put up with the shirts ; the orange sugar was confiscated on the frontier — which will make you very angry, as it made me. So I left Paris, travelled the whole night, and arrived at 1 1 a.m. in Boulogne. At last from far off I saw the dancing, widespread sea, and I had hardly patience to get down at the hotel, but set off at once for a walk along the shore. Vou know that no words can describe its wondrous beauty.
I wandered about for five hours, till I was forced to return to the
hotel from sheer hunger. At ten at night I went on board a ship,
bound direct for London. It was almost full moon, and the sea
was smooth and beautiful, and except for a short time of misery
I really enjoyed it. We got into the Thames early in the morning ;
and you can have no idea of the life and traffic. The river was
1846] Dr. William Russell 49
alive with ships, among them huge three-masted vessels. Thus we reached the Custom House, where all my books and papers were turned out. I took a cab, and looked for lodgings, which I soon found in a pleasant, respectable street. I have a room on the first floor, looking on the street, for which I pay los. a week. The house belongs to a tailor, and as yet I am fairly comfortable. In the morning I make my tea, and dine at four or five o’clock for is. 6d. I have been running about paying visits, but found hardly any one at home. To-morrow I shall call at Bunsen’s and on Baron von Cetto. To-day I went to the East India House, where Wilson was very kind, and invited me to dinner. I have been to the British Museum, and made some pleasant acquaintances. Now I have my MSS. at home, and am happily settled in quiet to work. I shall do all I can to give private lessons, for German money does not go far here. I always hope for the best, and I shall manage. Only think that I am in London, that I have seen Hyde Park, St. James’s Palace, St. Paul’s, Westminster, and the Tower ! It seems to me impossible, and I am most fortunate; how well all goes with me, how far beyond all I deserve ! Write to me soon ; that is the one thing left to wish for. Life here is very wonderful, and so different from Paris. I find the language very difficult, but I shall soon manage it. Yesterday evening I spent with an Englishman, a reporter for the Times, whose acquaintance I have made, and who has already been most helpful and kind to me. I am so tired with running about that I am nearly asleep, and don’t know whether you can read my scrawl.
‘Your M.’
It will be seen by the above letter that Max Miiller did not enter into all details in writing to his mother. The life was so different to anything to which she was accustomed, and required so much explanation, that we often find him passing over things well known to his friends on the spot. He does not recount above his first meeting with his kind friend and benefactor, the famous Times correspondent, Dr. now Sir William Russell, whose own pen shall describe the event: —
202, Cromwell Road, S.W.,
October 8, 1901.
• Dear Mrs. Max Muller, — My daughter is writing for me ; I have to use her pen, conscious that I have too long delayed fulfilling the promise I made to recall the incidents connected with my first acquaintance with my ever dear friend, your husband.
I E
50 Arrival in England [ch. iv
‘Early in June, 1846, I was in France, and was summoned back to take charge of the Parliamentary Committee on Railway Bills. I took my passage on board a steamer which went direct from Boulogne to London, landing passengers at the Custom House above Blackwall. I distinctly remember the interest I took in a young man, a little younger than myself, who was very anxious to ascertain the names of the places on the river which the steamer passed on her way from the Downs up to the Docks. He was evidently a foreigner, and had some difficulty in making himself understood by the mate, who appeared to have him in charge. I had observed him during a rather rough passage seated on the deck and holding on by one of the stays, evidently engaged in a contest with the advanced posts of mal de ?ner, but he resisted stoutly, and by the time we entered smooth water he was conqueror. He was neatly and carefully dressed in a suit which showed his erect, slight, but well-built figure to advan- tage ; the expression of his face was most engaging, regular features, fine intelligent eyes, no trace of whiskers, beard, or moustache, but thick dark hair under his felt hat ; an alert air and penetrating looks. Some casual question which he addressed to one of the passengers produced a very misleading answer, and I ventured to give the true explanation of the vessels which were moored in the Downs, waiting for favourable wind or tide. The melancholy look which had attracted my attention when we were in mid-channel as he sat holding on to a rope had vanished ; there was something to look at and to inquire about. Soon we became on good terms, and he told me that he was going to England to pursue his labours in Oriental literature ; whilst I informed him that I was a law student residing in the Middle Temple. At the Custom House there was, I remember, some trouble about passports, and my companion produced a paper in which his name was set forth as Max Miiller — an official document which satisfied the authorities. But he was soon in much distress ; his portmanteau could not be found; he told me it contained all his worldly goods, with his letters and papers, and that it would be ruin to him if it were not forthcoming. All the passengers’ luggage was overhauled, and still not a trace of the missing trunk. I\Iy newly made friend was in serious anxiety, and I felt for him deeply.
What could he do ? an utter stranger with very little money about him,
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
almost all he possessed being in the unfortunate box that could not
be found. The Custom House people having cleared all the baggage,
were anxious to clear us out ; so I told my young friend that
I had chambers where I would be most happy to give him a shake-
down for the night, and on the following day he could go back to
the Custom House and see if the missing box had been landed. He
1846] The Temple 51
was very much moved, and accepted my proposal with a charming cordiality. We drove together to the Temple, and despite his anxiety the strange new sights filled him with the greatest interest. We dined at Anderton’s in Fleet Street, and when we got back to the Temple we found that the laundress had arranged a comfortable couch for him, and had laid out a sleeping-suit for the stranger. Next day we made a journey to the Custom House, and to his inexpressible joy Max Miiller was shown his treasured portmanteau, which he opened for examination, and then saw passed, with the traditional chalk-mark on it, to the cab and carried to my rooms. I think it was that day that I went out with him, at his request, and found a decent bedroom in Essex Street, close by, of which he became the tenant, and where he had his breakfast every morning. Max Miiller had letters for Professors at King’s College, the Prussian Embassy, &c., and he was soon in communication with some of them ; but I saw him every day I should think for two or three months, and every hour I did so increased my regard for him — so simple, so straight, and so learned ; kindly and grave, but with a keen sense of humour, and a most bright and joyous disposition. In those days gentlemen of the press were more in favour with the dramatic world than they are at present. I could always obtain free admissions to concerts and theatres, and so we went together night after night to Drury Lane, Her Majesty’s, the Haymarket, Adelphi, and so forth ; and Max’s enjoyment of the Opera was intense and delightful. It was the custom at that time for students after dining in hall (at the Temple) to go off to their rooms with a friend or two, and others dropped in. Max Miiller was always the most welcome guest at mine, and he provided strange and wonderful entertainment for the company. For the first time the Temple was enlivened by the strains of “Edite, bibite, conviviales,” “ Crambambuli,” and other Studenten-Lieder. One morceau of surpassing excellence, as we all thought, we always encored, and Max smilingly complied \ It was an imitation of a whole orchestra — trumpets, drums, bassoons, and goodness knows what besides ! — delivered with the greatest precision. Those of the company who had rooms in the Temple were eager to secure a special right for this diversion. There are, as far as I know, none of these now alive.
At last INIax went away, but whether back to Germany or to Oxford
I cannot remember. In the winter I was dispatched on a special
commission in relation to the famine in Ireland, and whilst there
I received a letter from Max, written in a hand I could not read
then, but which I made out later, in which he told me of his projects j
^ ‘ O Tannenbaum ! o Tannenbaum ! ‘
E a
52 Professor Wilson [ch. iv
but I did not see him again till I visited Oxford in 1848. He had established himself at Oxford, and had already gained the position there due to his character and acquirements. Then came the revolutions in Europe, ample employment for me in all quarters, so that for a good many years there could be but very short and accidental snatches of intercourse between us ; but I heard of his rising fame with great satisfaction. After the Crimean War I deli- vered a series of lectures at various towns in England, and a visit to Oxford enabled me to renew an acquaintance always delightful and dear to me ; and after I returned from India in 1859 we met several times, and engaged in correspondence concerning my experience of a country in which he was deeply interested. And now I think I may make a jump to 1870 and the war with France, when as soon as I came home we had frequent meetings ; and the only cloud that ever obscured the warmth and brightness of our intercourse arose from a discussion caused by an intemperate objection I made to the opinions he expressed about the great Bismarck, then the god of the people who worshipped success all over the world. You know what happiness it was to me to make a descent upon Oxford, and spend a few days under your roof at 7, Norham Gardens, and how my wife entered fully into the great repose and comfort we enjoyed there. I shall say no more, except that I reckon your husband’s friendship one of my greatest treasures, and that I shall lament his loss as long as I live.
‘ I am sorry to send you such a bald account, but my memory of late has melted — it is without form and void.
‘ Yours very truly and with great regard,
‘W. H. Russell.’
Max Mliller had been in correspondence whilst in Paris with Professor Wilson, the Librarian of the East India House, so there was no difficulty about borrowing MSS. and beginning work at once. The following letter to his mother mentions the momentous visit to Bunsen which determined the whole course of his life : —
Translation. 3, Wardrobe Place, Doctors’ Commons,
July 13, 1846.
‘ I have only time to tell you that all goes well with me here, that Bunsen has received me in the most friendly way as the son of his friend, and has promised me his fatherly support in every way possible.
I have therefore explained my exact position to him, that my work,
1846] First Visit to Bunsen 53
which interests him very much, makes a long stay in London abso- lutely necessary, and he assures me I have found a friend in him, who will care for me as a father for his son. I stayed two days in the country with him. His family are very pleasant and cultivated. One evening I went to a party where were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Jerusalem, and others of the hatiie voUe. He is himself a very clever man, and a great favourite here, and perhaps he may find something for me. I do my best too with Wilson, but I can’t do much, for I must first master the language. I have already changed my room, because it was not clean and so hot. I am not satisfied here, and must pay \os. weekly. I have signed the contract with my publisher; the prospectus will be out November i, and then also the Mcghaduta^ and I hope at Easter a thick volume of Sanskrit.’
Of Max Muller’s first visit to the Prussian Legation Mme.
Ernest de Bunsen writes : —
‘ I remember the Professor on the morning of his arrival when he joined the family party at No. 4, Carlton Terrace. The Legation was then in full swing, and Baron Bunsen and the Professor were absorbed in one another independently of our home party. I value my vivid remembrance of his first appearance, for we were astonished at his youth and cheerfulness, and immediately he gained a place amongst us.’
Max Miiller had not been long in London before he wrote to acquaint his friend and teacher Burnouf with his prospects. After thanking him for his friendly counsel and encourage- ment, and the loan of his valuable MSS., which had helped him to continue his work when he was almost in despair, a work which he now hoped to be able to carry through and make of use to science, he adds : —
Translation.
‘I never can forget all I owe to you. As to my stay in London,
I am on the whole thoroughly satisfied with it. The MSS. are
splendid, but in such masses that to copy all that concerns the Veda
and my work would take at least two or three years of merely
mechanical labour. So I must stay in England, and with the MSS.
at hand bring out the Veda and its Commentary. I shall do this if
I can possibly, by private lessons and copying MSS., make enough to
face the great expense of life here. I hope that in this way it will be
possible for me to carry out the work in a shorter time than I at first
expected. I do not deny that it is perhaps foolish to make such
a sacrifice, and lead this anxious life for another five years without
54 Bunsen [ch. iv
doing anything that can secure a settled post ; but as I have once begun the work it must be finished, and I see no other way of doing it. Professor Wilson is most friendly, and I meet him constantly either at his own house or in the Library of the East India House.’
Burnouf replied that he thought his plans excellent, and that those who understood the magnitude of the task Max Miiller had undertaken and the wealth of materials for it in London, would consider that he must work very fast, if he only stayed four years. ‘ Mr. Wilson will indirectly render a great service to Indian letters, if, with the benevolent liberality with which he meets all those who ask his support, he makes it possible for you to stay in London as long as the task of publishing your Rig-veda with its commentaries and indispensable indices may require.’
To his mother he writes : —
Translation. London, August 3, 1846.
‘I had meant to write sooner, but I have been so busy. I am between two fires, or rather Ministers, for the Bavarian Minister, Baron von Cetto, has made fresh offers to me which are tolerably advan- tageous — 1,000 thalers a year and free board; so that I could have put by 600 thalers, and later he would recommend me for some place in Bavaria. On the other hand Bunsen advised me strongly to decline this offer, taking on himself all the responsibility, and told me to trust myself absolutely to him. He is really marvellously kind to me, and I am constantly in his house, early, late, and to dinner. I have not quite decided, and want to postpone a decision. Bunsen is so much interested in the publication of the Veda, which falls in with his own studies, and he urges me first to print some of it. I shall do so as soon as I can, but have still a great deal to do to it. Wilson too is very helpful, and promises to do all he can to get me some place in England, which is the height of my ambition ; but that may take years, and meantime how shall I eat and drink ? Bunsen sent me an article from the Augsburger Zei’hmg with, the heading “Max Miiller” ; if you have not seen it, get it, and I think even you will be satisfied !
Of London I can tell you little, except that last Saturday I saw its
full splendour. A friend took me to the Italian Opera, which I had
not yet seen either here or in Paris. It was wonderful. A larger
house than I have ever seen, and every one in full dress. The boxes
filled with the nobility, and I saw Queen Victoria and Prince Albert,
the Duke of Cambridge, &c. The music absolutely perfect; Anna
Bolena, sung by Grisi, Mario, and Lablache ; all the highest artistic
1846] Archdeacon Hare 55
perfection. And then a ballet to which there can be nothing equal, the Jugement de Paris with Taglioni, Grahn, and Cerito as the three goddesses. The decorations were beautiful. The stalls cost 7^. dd. The same friend asked me to go with him to Scotland as his guest, but I cannot, gladly as I would do so. So you see your son is still afloat, and everywhere friendly hands are stretched out to help him on his way. ‘ Your Max.’
Translation. August 28.
‘ Dearest Mother, — I have been able to arrange that your letters ^ may come by messenger. They leave Berlin every Tuesday, and you must send them to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs under Bunsen’s address. The letters leave here to-day and reach Berlin in five days, and Chemnitz therefore in six.’
T,o THE Same.
Translation. August 25, 1846.
• All goes tolerably well with me. My work gets on. Bunsen is wonderfully good to me. I dine there once or twice every week, and he always gives me fresh courage and hope. When my first volume is out he hopes to get a salary for me from the Prussian Government.
I must stay in England till the whole work is finished, and that will
be five years. If I should then return to Germany is the question, for
I am so delighted with this country. I could willingly live here
always, if only a place could be found for me. But those are future
plans which do not trouble me much now ; at all events I feel nearer
my haven here, if only my pilot holds out 1 To-morrow I am again
invited to Bunsen’s for his birthday. Professor Lepsius from Berlin is
now staying at Bunsen’s with his young wife ; he owes everything to
Bunsen. He got him a Stipendium to study, then to go to Italy,
France, and England, and at last to Egypt; and now he is Professor
at Berlin, with 1,500 thalers a year. I have become acquainted with
Archdeacon Hare, and dined with him. He is a very kind old man,
and I am on most happy terms with him. I am still in Wardrobe
Place, and more comfortable, as I can dine in the house with one of
the other lodgers ; very good, and only \s. He is a young German
bookseller, married to an Englishwoman, with whom I can talk
English, which is already much easier to me, I have not seen much
more of London ; the city is less interesting than the people and the
life. I am well and don’t feel anything of the spleen to which I am
“^ He had to pay \s. 6d. in England for letters on which his mother had already paid something.
56 Visit to Germany [ch. iv
naturally inclined. I read the Twies every day with great interest, while I drink my tea and smoke a pipe, and then to work. The one thing I long for is quiet and a certainty, and a pleasant home life with my dear mother. But as often as I think it is near at hand it goes again, and who knows when I may
be found. The Custom House people having cleared all the baggage,
were anxious to clear us out ; so I told my young friend that
I had chambers where I would be most happy to give him a shake-
down for the night, and on the following day he could go back to
the Custom House and see if the missing box had been landed. He
1846] The Temple 51
was very much moved, and accepted my proposal with a charming cordiality. We drove together to the Temple, and despite his anxiety the strange new sights filled him with the greatest interest. We dined at Anderton’s in Fleet Street, and when we got back to the Temple we found that the laundress had arranged a comfortable couch for him, and had laid out a sleeping-suit for the stranger. Next day we made a journey to the Custom House, and to his inexpressible joy Max Miiller was shown his treasured portmanteau, which he opened for examination, and then saw passed, with the traditional chalk-mark on it, to the cab and carried to my rooms. I think it was that day that I went out with him, at his request, and found a decent bedroom in Essex Street, close by, of which he became the tenant, and where he had his breakfast every morning. Max Miiller had letters for Professors at King’s College, the Prussian Embassy, &c., and he was soon in communication with some of them ; but I saw him every day I should think for two or three months, and every hour I did so increased my regard for him — so simple, so straight, and so learned ; kindly and grave, but with a keen sense of humour, and a most bright and joyous disposition. In those days gentlemen of the press were more in favour with the dramatic world than they are at present. I could always obtain free admissions to concerts and theatres, and so we went together night after night to Drury Lane, Her Majesty’s, the Haymarket, Adelphi, and so forth ; and Max’s enjoyment of the Opera was intense and delightful. It was the custom at that time for students after dining in hall (at the Temple) to go off to their rooms with a friend or two, and others dropped in. Max Miiller was always the most welcome guest at mine, and he provided strange and wonderful entertainment for the company. For the first time the Temple was enlivened by the strains of “Edite, bibite, conviviales,” “ Crambambuli,” and other Studenten-Lieder. One morceau of surpassing excellence, as we all thought, we always encored, and Max smilingly complied \ It was an imitation of a whole orchestra — trumpets, drums, bassoons, and goodness knows what besides ! — delivered with the greatest precision. Those of the company who had rooms in the Temple were eager to secure a special right for this diversion. There are, as far as I know, none of these now alive.
At last INIax went away, but whether back to Germany or to Oxford
I cannot remember. In the winter I was dispatched on a special
commission in relation to the famine in Ireland, and whilst there
I received a letter from Max, written in a hand I could not read
then, but which I made out later, in which he told me of his projects j
^ ‘ O Tannenbaum ! o Tannenbaum ! ‘
E a
52 Professor Wilson [ch. iv
but I did not see him again till I visited Oxford in 1848. He had established himself at Oxford, and had already gained the position there due to his character and acquirements. Then came the revolutions in Europe, ample employment for me in all quarters, so that for a good many years there could be but very short and accidental snatches of intercourse between us ; but I heard of his rising fame with great satisfaction. After the Crimean War I deli- vered a series of lectures at various towns in England, and a visit to Oxford enabled me to renew an acquaintance always delightful and dear to me ; and after I returned from India in 1859 we met several times, and engaged in correspondence concerning my experience of a country in which he was deeply interested. And now I think I may make a jump to 1870 and the war with France, when as soon as I came home we had frequent meetings ; and the only cloud that ever obscured the warmth and brightness of our intercourse arose from a discussion caused by an intemperate objection I made to the opinions he expressed about the great Bismarck, then the god of the people who worshipped success all over the world. You know what happiness it was to me to make a descent upon Oxford, and spend a few days under your roof at 7, Norham Gardens, and how my wife entered fully into the great repose and comfort we enjoyed there. I shall say no more, except that I reckon your husband’s friendship one of my greatest treasures, and that I shall lament his loss as long as I live.
‘ I am sorry to send you such a bald account, but my memory of late has melted — it is without form and void.
‘ Yours very truly and with great regard,
‘W. H. Russell.’
Max Mliller had been in correspondence whilst in Paris with Professor Wilson, the Librarian of the East India House, so there was no difficulty about borrowing MSS. and beginning work at once. The following letter to his mother mentions the momentous visit to Bunsen which determined the whole course of his life : —
Translation. 3, Wardrobe Place, Doctors’ Commons,
July 13, 1846.
‘ I have only time to tell you that all goes well with me here, that Bunsen has received me in the most friendly way as the son of his friend, and has promised me his fatherly support in every way possible.
I have therefore explained my exact position to him, that my work,
1846] First Visit to Bunsen 53
which interests him very much, makes a long stay in London abso- lutely necessary, and he assures me I have found a friend in him, who will care for me as a father for his son. I stayed two days in the country with him. His family are very pleasant and cultivated. One evening I went to a party where were the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Jerusalem, and others of the hatiie voUe. He is himself a very clever man, and a great favourite here, and perhaps he may find something for me. I do my best too with Wilson, but I can’t do much, for I must first master the language. I have already changed my room, because it was not clean and so hot. I am not satisfied here, and must pay \os. weekly. I have signed the contract with my publisher; the prospectus will be out November i, and then also the Mcghaduta^ and I hope at Easter a thick volume of Sanskrit.’
Of Max Muller’s first visit to the Prussian Legation Mme.
Ernest de Bunsen writes : —
‘ I remember the Professor on the morning of his arrival when he joined the family party at No. 4, Carlton Terrace. The Legation was then in full swing, and Baron Bunsen and the Professor were absorbed in one another independently of our home party. I value my vivid remembrance of his first appearance, for we were astonished at his youth and cheerfulness, and immediately he gained a place amongst us.’
Max Miiller had not been long in London before he wrote to acquaint his friend and teacher Burnouf with his prospects. After thanking him for his friendly counsel and encourage- ment, and the loan of his valuable MSS., which had helped him to continue his work when he was almost in despair, a work which he now hoped to be able to carry through and make of use to science, he adds : —
Translation.
‘I never can forget all I owe to you. As to my stay in London,
I am on the whole thoroughly satisfied with it. The MSS. are
splendid, but in such masses that to copy all that concerns the Veda
and my work would take at least two or three years of merely
mechanical labour. So I must stay in England, and with the MSS.
at hand bring out the Veda and its Commentary. I shall do this if
I can possibly, by private lessons and copying MSS., make enough to
face the great expense of life here. I hope that in this way it will be
possible for me to carry out the work in a shorter time than I at first
expected. I do not deny that it is perhaps foolish to make such
a sacrifice, and lead this anxious life for another five years without
54 Bunsen [ch. iv
doing anything that can secure a settled post ; but as I have once begun the work it must be finished, and I see no other way of doing it. Professor Wilson is most friendly, and I meet him constantly either at his own house or in the Library of the East India House.’
Burnouf replied that he thought his plans excellent, and that those who understood the magnitude of the task Max Miiller had undertaken and the wealth of materials for it in London, would consider that he must work very fast, if he only stayed four years. ‘ Mr. Wilson will indirectly render a great service to Indian letters, if, with the benevolent liberality with which he meets all those who ask his support, he makes it possible for you to stay in London as long as the task of publishing your Rig-veda with its commentaries and indispensable indices may require.’
To his mother he writes : —
Translation. London, August 3, 1846.
‘I had meant to write sooner, but I have been so busy. I am between two fires, or rather Ministers, for the Bavarian Minister, Baron von Cetto, has made fresh offers to me which are tolerably advan- tageous — 1,000 thalers a year and free board; so that I could have put by 600 thalers, and later he would recommend me for some place in Bavaria. On the other hand Bunsen advised me strongly to decline this offer, taking on himself all the responsibility, and told me to trust myself absolutely to him. He is really marvellously kind to me, and I am constantly in his house, early, late, and to dinner. I have not quite decided, and want to postpone a decision. Bunsen is so much interested in the publication of the Veda, which falls in with his own studies, and he urges me first to print some of it. I shall do so as soon as I can, but have still a great deal to do to it. Wilson too is very helpful, and promises to do all he can to get me some place in England, which is the height of my ambition ; but that may take years, and meantime how shall I eat and drink ? Bunsen sent me an article from the Augsburger Zei’hmg with, the heading “Max Miiller” ; if you have not seen it, get it, and I think even you will be satisfied !
Of London I can tell you little, except that last Saturday I saw its
full splendour. A friend took me to the Italian Opera, which I had
not yet seen either here or in Paris. It was wonderful. A larger
house than I have ever seen, and every one in full dress. The boxes
filled with the nobility, and I saw Queen Victoria and Prince Albert,
the Duke of Cambridge, &c. The music absolutely perfect; Anna
Bolena, sung by Grisi, Mario, and Lablache ; all the highest artistic
1846] Archdeacon Hare 55
perfection. And then a ballet to which there can be nothing equal, the Jugement de Paris with Taglioni, Grahn, and Cerito as the three goddesses. The decorations were beautiful. The stalls cost 7^. dd. The same friend asked me to go with him to Scotland as his guest, but I cannot, gladly as I would do so. So you see your son is still afloat, and everywhere friendly hands are stretched out to help him on his way. ‘ Your Max.’
Translation. August 28.
‘ Dearest Mother, — I have been able to arrange that your letters ^ may come by messenger. They leave Berlin every Tuesday, and you must send them to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs under Bunsen’s address. The letters leave here to-day and reach Berlin in five days, and Chemnitz therefore in six.’
T,o THE Same.
Translation. August 25, 1846.
• All goes tolerably well with me. My work gets on. Bunsen is wonderfully good to me. I dine there once or twice every week, and he always gives me fresh courage and hope. When my first volume is out he hopes to get a salary for me from the Prussian Government.
I must stay in England till the whole work is finished, and that will
be five years. If I should then return to Germany is the question, for
I am so delighted with this country. I could willingly live here
always, if only a place could be found for me. But those are future
plans which do not trouble me much now ; at all events I feel nearer
my haven here, if only my pilot holds out 1 To-morrow I am again
invited to Bunsen’s for his birthday. Professor Lepsius from Berlin is
now staying at Bunsen’s with his young wife ; he owes everything to
Bunsen. He got him a Stipendium to study, then to go to Italy,
France, and England, and at last to Egypt; and now he is Professor
at Berlin, with 1,500 thalers a year. I have become acquainted with
Archdeacon Hare, and dined with him. He is a very kind old man,
and I am on most happy terms with him. I am still in Wardrobe
Place, and more comfortable, as I can dine in the house with one of
the other lodgers ; very good, and only \s. He is a young German
bookseller, married to an Englishwoman, with whom I can talk
English, which is already much easier to me, I have not seen much
more of London ; the city is less interesting than the people and the
life. I am well and don’t feel anything of the spleen to which I am
“^ He had to pay \s. 6d. in England for letters on which his mother had already paid something.
56 Visit to Germany [ch. iv
naturally inclined. I read the Twies every day with great interest, while I drink my tea and smoke a pipe, and then to work. The one thing I long for is quiet and a certainty, and a pleasant home life with my dear mother. But as often as I think it is near at hand it goes again, and who knows when I may
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
at last gain it ? My work is full of interest, and keeps me straight ; but sometimes one longs for more in life than this everlasting struggle. Now only quiet and content ! ‘
In September Max Mliller issued a prospectus of the Rig- veda to be published, as has been seen, by subscription by Samter of Konigsberg. This plan was given up when the East India Company undertook the publication of the Rig- veda. The prospectus contains a proposal for a German translation, and sets forth clearly the importance of the Rig- veda for the history of human thought. Soon after, he heard of the very alarming illness of his mother, and his ever faithful friend Bunsen sent him with dispatches to Berlin, to enable him to see her. Such was his anxiety to reach his mother, that he insisted on crossing, though it was a frightful storm and he was the only passenger. It took nearly six hours to get to Calais ! He was able to spend several weeks with her, and returned by Berlin.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Berlin, October 27.
‘ Your letter which I got yesterday was a great pleasure, though it
made me sad, when I saw how my leaving you had excited and
weakened you. Now I hope, if you really love me, you will think of
your health, and spare yourself as much as possible. Remember the
distance is not so very great, and that Ave can reach each other now so
easily ; think too that it is of great importance and use to me, and that
in after years we shall find a rich reward for it. There is not much
to tell you of my journey. ... I arrived early in Leipzig, and went
straight to Victor Cams. I went also to Brockhaus, with whom I had
much to talk over, and then on to Dessau. Here they were all very
well, and glad to get a better account of you. That evening I had to
go with them to the theatre, and there the Duchess saw me, and the
next morning commanded me to the Schloss. She was exceedingly
friendly, and kept me nearly an hour. . . . She then gave me a letter of
introduction to Prince Waldemar in Berlin. I have been to Bopp and
Lepsius, and have still to call on Humboldt, Schelling, &c. . . . There
1846] Rig-veda and East India House 57
was a large party here last night . . . where I met many interesting people. I shall be glad when I am quietly back in London.
‘Your Max.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Berlin, Novem5er ii.
‘ You will be surprised at getting another letter from Berlin, when I hoped to be already in London. But there was so much to do of real importance concerning my work and prospects that I was obliged to put off my journey, and cannot even now fix the day. The worst is I have had no rest the whole time, always running about, paying visits to Geheimrathe and Ministers. Humboldt has again been most good to me, and done all he could to support the publication of the Veda, in such a way that I should gain something by it. He gave my prospectus to the King, who had it read out to him, and spoke most graciously about it, and sent me word through Humboldt I should write him a letter regarding the religious impor- tance of the Veda. I had to do this at once, and you know how much care and time such a thing takes. The King is unfortunately not in Berlin, but has received my letter, and already promised a considerable sum towards the undertaking. Then there was much to arrange about the Sanskrit types, which belong to the Academy, but I am in great hopes that my plans will be successful, and that I can return to London in good spirits. ... I dined with Prince Waldemar, who is a remarkably charming and cultivated man. After dinner we had coffee in an Indian tent, with fine carpets and tiger- skins, everything Indian, even to the long pipes and tobacco.’
Soon after his return to London the negotiations with the East India Company for printing and publishing the Ri^-- veda began. The success of his plan of publishing the Veda in Konigsberg depended on the support of the East India Company — who were asked to subscribe for 100 copies, the King of Prussia and the French Government having already promised to take a large number. But when, as advised by Bunsen and Wilson, Max Miiller called on the various Directors on the subject, they declared themselves averse to suppoi-ting a work carried out by a foreign country. Bunsen was ready to seize the opportunity, for he saw at once that the East India Company was the proper body to undertake the whole work.
‘It was not an easy task,’ says the Autohiography, ‘to persuade the
Board of Directors, all strictly practical men, to authorize so considerable
58 East India Company [ch. iv
an expenditure, merely to edit and print an old book that none of them could understand, and many of them had never even heard of. Bunsen pointed out what a disgrace it would be if some other country than England published this edition of the Sacred Books of the Brahmans.’
Professor Wilson, the Librarian of the India House, who had long been preparing a translation of the Rig-veda and often found himself hampered from want of a perfectly- correct text, added his powerful advocacy, and though months of uncertainty were yet to try the young scholar, everything was finally arranged by April, 1847.
To HIS Mother.
Translalion. London, December 25.
‘ I put off writing, for I hoped to give you news of employment, about which I have been busy ever since the end of November, and in constant hopes of a favourable decision, but I am still without any definite information. I can hardly tell you how uncomfortable such a position is, such uncertainty makes me unfit for anything. I can truly say I have lost the whole of December, as I could do nothing but write official letters to the Honourable Court of Directors of the East India Company, and pay official visits, &c. But if it succeeds, I shall have £150 a year, and nothing to do but bring out a Sanskrit work for the Company. You can imagine how delightful such a position would be, and can picture to yourself my intense anxiety as to yes or no ! Bunsen and Wilson have done all in their power, and Bunsen especially has taken the liveliest interest in the whole affair, but such arrangements cannot be made in a hurry, and so I must be patient. My birthday passed by quietly, with no one who knew it. I dined at Bunsen’s. The whole month has gone in hopes, expectations, disappointments, and rejoicings, and though it is possible I might hear to-day that all is settled, it may dawdle on into next year, and even fail entirely. So do not talk about it, and do not paint my future to yourself in rosy colours, for it may first be very grey ! I feel sure I can depend on Bunsen under all circumstances.
How I have deserved his kindness, I know not, for he has done me
so many kindnesses, not only where his position made it easy for him,
but even when it was disagreeable to him, and required great self-
restraint. I was there for Christmas Eve. The whole family were
together, children and children’s children — in all thirty people, and
then all the servants. A huge Christmas tree, and two large rooms
lighted up and decorated, and presents for every one. I had a
beautiful writing portfolio fitted up with everything; I was as happy
1846] English Friends 59
as one can be when obliged to be away from home. We have been waiting five days for the courier, who comes by Hamburg, and is prob- ably frozen in ! From January i, a letter to Germany will only cost one shilling. To-day I dine with Wilson — a large party. The English keep Christmas by eating enormously, but one needs an English appetite for it ! ... I have forgotten to send my New Year’s wishes — • you know how I wish you all with all my heart a very happy year — and no year will be happier for me than the one when I find myself able, if only in the smallest degree, to add to your comfort 1 — Max.’
His life all these months had been one of very hard work and constant self-denial, and but for Bunsen’s substantial help he could not have lived on in England. He tells us hov\^ he walked to and from the India House every day, his arms full of books and papers. One day he left his spectacles, which he had broken, to be mended at a shop in the Strand, and on calling to fetch them, he laid down a sovereign to pay for them. The shopman returned him change for half a sovereign, and persisted that Max Miiller had only given him ten shillings. It was in vain to remonstrate, the man only became abusive to the unmistakable foreigner in a well-worn coat, and Max left the shop, sadly aware that the missing ten shillings represented several dinners, which he must give up. Some days passed, dinnerless, when one evening the man rushed out of the same shop as Max was passing it, with ten shillings in his hand, which he held out to him — ‘ Oh, sir,’ he said, ‘ I have watched for you several days. You were right ;
I found I had ten shillings too much when I counted up my money that evening, and I have longed to get it back to you,’ adding, ‘ for you look as if you wanted it.’
Meantime he was making friends in England. He had stayed more than once in the country at Totteridge with Bunsen, and with him had visited Archdeacon Hare. Mr.
Vaux of the British Museum had become a fast friend, an
intimacy which lasted till Mr. Vaux’s death. Max Miiller
constantly attended the suppers given by his friend, where the
invitation cards were adorned with pictures of Nineveh bulls
and hawk-headed deities, and where clouds of not over-good
tobacco smoke filled the air. ‘ Billy Russell,’ as we know,
constantly sent him tickets for concerts and theatres, so that,
6o Visit to Oxford [ch. iv
notwithstanding his hard work, and the uncertainty about the Veda, his early London Hfe was far more enjoyable than the first year of his stay in Paris. There were several young German Sanskritists at work in England, and with these and the colony of German merchants, living chiefly at Denmark Hill, and the members of the German Consulate he was in constant intercourse.
Early in 1 847 he went for a short time to Oxford to copy Sanskrit MSS.— his first sight of his future home. About the same time he made acquaintance by letter with Benfey, the great Sanskrit scholar at Gottingen, an acquaintance that soon ripened into a true friendship. Benfey was then engaged on his edition of the Sdma-veda, and many letters passed between the friends on points of Vedic grammar.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. London, February 12, 1847.
‘ Still in great uncertainty. I have only just returned to London, for I have been staying at Oxford, working in the Library there, and have thus seen the most interesting and beautiful city in Europe. The whole town is of the Middle Ages, and consists almost entirely of churches, monasteries (now Colleges), castles, and towers, all in old English or Gothic, and the whole life is of the Middle Ages. All students in black and white gowns and black caps, and so are the Professors, &c. And then the wealth and easy life in the Universities {sic), which are more High Schools than Universities.’
Not long after Max Midler’s return from Oxford he was able to write to his mother : —
Translation. 5, Newman’s Row, Lincoln’s Inn Fields,
April 15, 1847.
‘ At last the long conflict is decided, and I have carried off, so to
speak, the prize ! I can yet hardly believe that I have at last got
what I have struggled for so long, entire independence, and I am
filled with the thought of how much more I have gained than
I deserve. ... I am to hand over to the Company, ready for press,
fifty sheets each year — the same I had promised to Samter in Ger-
many; for this I have asked £200 a year, £4 a sheet. They have
been considering the matter since December, and it was only yester-
day that it was officially settled. I have to read the corrections, and
shall have plenty of time left to devote to my studies. ... As the work
1847] Rig-veda settled 61
will be above 400 sheets, I have a certain position for the next eight years, and the work is really so light I could take another post with it. This in fact has been already offered me, i. e. a place as Librarian at the British Museum, with £150 a year. But on Bunsen’s advice I have refused this, as I would rather be free the first years to study, till something more suitable presents itself, of which there is Httle doubt in time. And now what do you say, dearest mother.? Is it not more than I could have ever expected?
And have I not been right throughout to hold out to the very last,
and devote all my time and strength and money to one aim, and
pursue that to the last gasp 1 But only think that I had not a penny
left, and that in spite of every effort to make a little money, I should
have had to return to Germany had not Bunsen stood by me and
helped me by word and deed. It has been a bad time, and now
that it is over I may say so. I saw that the turning-point of my
life had come, and that after all the uncertainty I was only a few
steps from the goal, and yet I was not in a position to wait longer,
but should be forced to return to Germany, to give up my favourite
studies, if not entirely, yet mostly, in order to gain a scanty living
at a school or by private lessons. I knew that none of my relations
and friends agreed with me; on the contrary, that they all thought
my plans foolish and exaggerated, and I had no one from whom
I could expect support — I mean, who would have lent me a small
sum for a few years. In fact, all my time, money, and work, indeed
my whole life perhaps, would have been sacrificed and lost, had not
Bunsen, who had once been in the same position, without my saying
anything to him, stood by me, and in this way made it possible for
me to struggle on with joyful confidence and firm faith towards the
goal I had set before me. I do not know whether I should thank
God more that I have at last attained my long-desired and long-
sought object, or that I have gained the friendship of so noble and
distinguished a man as Bunsen. It is in these last weeks that I have
learned to know and value him so thoroughly. Archdeacon Hare
invited Bunsen and me to spend Easter with him in the country, and
so I spent the whole time in constant intercourse and conversation
with these two men and Sir John Herschell, the famous astronomer,
who was there on a visit, and thus I forgot all my troubles. In fact,
I spent a delightful time, and when I reached London yesterday
I found all settled, and I could say and feel, Thank God ! Now
I must at once send my thanks, and set to work to earn the first
£100. Till then Bunsen will lend me some money, which will not
be necessary later on, as one can live here comfortably on £150, and
at first my expenses will be small. We will not make any plans yet
62 Death of Mendelssohn [ch. iv
for the future. When my work is once arranged I can easily spend a month or two each year in Germany, and when I have put by a httle you might try if you could live comfortably in England. But at first, patience 1 My rooms here are small, but very nice — sitting- and bed-room — with a beautiful view over an old park and Gothic buildings. I pay, however, nearly £45, and that is cheap. As soon as I have earned a little money, my first purchase will be a piano — hiring is almost as dear as buying a second-hand one, which is always easy to find. What did you think of my Meghaduia ? I am well and happy.’
This summer Max mentions hearing Mendelssohn several times, both in public and at Bunsen’s. It was his last inter- course with the friend of his childhood, boyhood, and youth ; for at the close of the year he writes : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. i, Garden Place, December ii.
‘ The death of Mendelssohn was a great shock to me, and yet is not his lot to be envied ? and if to live is to work, has he not Kved longer than many.? What comes from God is right and good. How beautifully Jean Paul speaks of comfort, but how much more beautiful and elevating is another book, which unhappily through man’s un- reason and man’s wisdom is so spoilt for us from childhood, that we can only slowly and by degrees read and live into it again. Here the general sympathy has been expressed in so many different ways. Elijah was twice performed, all in mourning, no applause, and at the beginning the Dead March in Saul. I could not go, it was too much for me. I could not at first touch the piano. Now there is a col- lection for a monument, probably in Westminster, where you know Handel is buried.’
To return to his daily life, now given up to the preparation of the text and Commentary of the Rig-veda. The MS. of the first volume was rapidly approaching completion. ‘ I get up at five every morning,’ he says (May 10), ‘ for I have a great deal to do, and the evenings are generally wasted in society. Summer is beginning, and there is more green each morning on the great trees before my window.’
For nearly four years Max Miiller had been copying and
collating the MSS. of the Rig-veda in order to publish a cor-
rect text, but this was by no means the most difficult part of
1847] Rig-veda 63
his taskj though it is the part that has been best understood and appreciated by the pubhc. Real Sanskrit scholars know that his knowledge of Sanskrit was tested and shown in the critical edition of Sayana’s Commentary. This work involved enormous labour, and he was often urged to work faster and less critically, but he kept to his first resolution, to publish the whole text of the Commentary, making it as perfect as possible. At the time he began his edition, many of the Sanskrit works quoted by Sayana were still unedited, whilst the references were brief, presupposing an intimate acquain- tance with the works quoted. Max Miiller had to trace these references, to copy the MSS. where they occur, and make full and careful indices. This he did, though often delayed by some obscure reference to Panini’s Grammar or Yaska’s Glos- sary. All these references had to be found, and their meaning ascertained, before any printing could be begun. They are now given in his edition of the Veda. He tells us he was often driven to despair by some obscure reference which neither Burnouf nor Wilson, the greatest Sanskrit scholars of the day, could help him to discover, ‘ It often took me whole days — nay, weeks — before I saw light. In the purely mechanical part other scholars could, and did, help me ; but whenever any real difficulty arose, I had to face it by myself, though after a time I gladly acknowledge that here too their advice was often valuable to me.’
Bunsen was determined, as his young friend would live in
England, at all events for several years to come, that he should
make the acquaintance of influential and distinguished people,
not only in London society, but in scientific and literary circles,
and therefore insisted on his attending, under his guidance, the
meeting of the British Association, which in 1847 was held
at Oxford. He not only attended, but prepared and read
a paper in English on the relation of Bengali to the Aryan and
aboriginal languages of India. He had been but a year in
England, and though he had completely mastered English,
and wrote and expressed himself correctly and forcibly, his
pronunciation was still very foreign, and it was with no little
trepidation that he stood up for the first time before a large
and critical English audience. His subject was one entirely
64 British Association [ch. iv
new to most of his hearers, but it excited great interest, and gave rise to a keen discussion, in which the young scholar was ably and chivalrously defended by Dr. Prichard, President of the Section, against the attacks and objections of certain members who thought that no good thing could come out of Germany. Though Max Miiller never reprinted this paper separately, and considered it as the crude production of a very young man (he was not twenty-four), he received, as late as 1892, a letter from a gentleman engaged in like studies with this allusion to his early essay : ‘ It seems to me that you have stated far more clearly than I have seen elsewhere the main facts of Bengali agglutination, and it is astonishing to me how wonderfully you have grasped them without visiting Bengal.’
It was on this occasion that Max Mijller first came into personal contact with Prince Albert, for whom he ever after- wards felt the strongest admiration and sympathy. They met from time to time at public dinners, or whenever the Prince Consort visited Oxford, but both were aware that, strongly as they
In September Max Mliller issued a prospectus of the Rig- veda to be published, as has been seen, by subscription by Samter of Konigsberg. This plan was given up when the East India Company undertook the publication of the Rig- veda. The prospectus contains a proposal for a German translation, and sets forth clearly the importance of the Rig- veda for the history of human thought. Soon after, he heard of the very alarming illness of his mother, and his ever faithful friend Bunsen sent him with dispatches to Berlin, to enable him to see her. Such was his anxiety to reach his mother, that he insisted on crossing, though it was a frightful storm and he was the only passenger. It took nearly six hours to get to Calais ! He was able to spend several weeks with her, and returned by Berlin.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Berlin, October 27.
‘ Your letter which I got yesterday was a great pleasure, though it
made me sad, when I saw how my leaving you had excited and
weakened you. Now I hope, if you really love me, you will think of
your health, and spare yourself as much as possible. Remember the
distance is not so very great, and that Ave can reach each other now so
easily ; think too that it is of great importance and use to me, and that
in after years we shall find a rich reward for it. There is not much
to tell you of my journey. ... I arrived early in Leipzig, and went
straight to Victor Cams. I went also to Brockhaus, with whom I had
much to talk over, and then on to Dessau. Here they were all very
well, and glad to get a better account of you. That evening I had to
go with them to the theatre, and there the Duchess saw me, and the
next morning commanded me to the Schloss. She was exceedingly
friendly, and kept me nearly an hour. . . . She then gave me a letter of
introduction to Prince Waldemar in Berlin. I have been to Bopp and
Lepsius, and have still to call on Humboldt, Schelling, &c. . . . There
1846] Rig-veda and East India House 57
was a large party here last night . . . where I met many interesting people. I shall be glad when I am quietly back in London.
‘Your Max.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Berlin, Novem5er ii.
‘ You will be surprised at getting another letter from Berlin, when I hoped to be already in London. But there was so much to do of real importance concerning my work and prospects that I was obliged to put off my journey, and cannot even now fix the day. The worst is I have had no rest the whole time, always running about, paying visits to Geheimrathe and Ministers. Humboldt has again been most good to me, and done all he could to support the publication of the Veda, in such a way that I should gain something by it. He gave my prospectus to the King, who had it read out to him, and spoke most graciously about it, and sent me word through Humboldt I should write him a letter regarding the religious impor- tance of the Veda. I had to do this at once, and you know how much care and time such a thing takes. The King is unfortunately not in Berlin, but has received my letter, and already promised a considerable sum towards the undertaking. Then there was much to arrange about the Sanskrit types, which belong to the Academy, but I am in great hopes that my plans will be successful, and that I can return to London in good spirits. ... I dined with Prince Waldemar, who is a remarkably charming and cultivated man. After dinner we had coffee in an Indian tent, with fine carpets and tiger- skins, everything Indian, even to the long pipes and tobacco.’
Soon after his return to London the negotiations with the East India Company for printing and publishing the Ri^-- veda began. The success of his plan of publishing the Veda in Konigsberg depended on the support of the East India Company — who were asked to subscribe for 100 copies, the King of Prussia and the French Government having already promised to take a large number. But when, as advised by Bunsen and Wilson, Max Miiller called on the various Directors on the subject, they declared themselves averse to suppoi-ting a work carried out by a foreign country. Bunsen was ready to seize the opportunity, for he saw at once that the East India Company was the proper body to undertake the whole work.
‘It was not an easy task,’ says the Autohiography, ‘to persuade the
Board of Directors, all strictly practical men, to authorize so considerable
58 East India Company [ch. iv
an expenditure, merely to edit and print an old book that none of them could understand, and many of them had never even heard of. Bunsen pointed out what a disgrace it would be if some other country than England published this edition of the Sacred Books of the Brahmans.’
Professor Wilson, the Librarian of the India House, who had long been preparing a translation of the Rig-veda and often found himself hampered from want of a perfectly- correct text, added his powerful advocacy, and though months of uncertainty were yet to try the young scholar, everything was finally arranged by April, 1847.
To HIS Mother.
Translalion. London, December 25.
‘ I put off writing, for I hoped to give you news of employment, about which I have been busy ever since the end of November, and in constant hopes of a favourable decision, but I am still without any definite information. I can hardly tell you how uncomfortable such a position is, such uncertainty makes me unfit for anything. I can truly say I have lost the whole of December, as I could do nothing but write official letters to the Honourable Court of Directors of the East India Company, and pay official visits, &c. But if it succeeds, I shall have £150 a year, and nothing to do but bring out a Sanskrit work for the Company. You can imagine how delightful such a position would be, and can picture to yourself my intense anxiety as to yes or no ! Bunsen and Wilson have done all in their power, and Bunsen especially has taken the liveliest interest in the whole affair, but such arrangements cannot be made in a hurry, and so I must be patient. My birthday passed by quietly, with no one who knew it. I dined at Bunsen’s. The whole month has gone in hopes, expectations, disappointments, and rejoicings, and though it is possible I might hear to-day that all is settled, it may dawdle on into next year, and even fail entirely. So do not talk about it, and do not paint my future to yourself in rosy colours, for it may first be very grey ! I feel sure I can depend on Bunsen under all circumstances.
How I have deserved his kindness, I know not, for he has done me
so many kindnesses, not only where his position made it easy for him,
but even when it was disagreeable to him, and required great self-
restraint. I was there for Christmas Eve. The whole family were
together, children and children’s children — in all thirty people, and
then all the servants. A huge Christmas tree, and two large rooms
lighted up and decorated, and presents for every one. I had a
beautiful writing portfolio fitted up with everything; I was as happy
1846] English Friends 59
as one can be when obliged to be away from home. We have been waiting five days for the courier, who comes by Hamburg, and is prob- ably frozen in ! From January i, a letter to Germany will only cost one shilling. To-day I dine with Wilson — a large party. The English keep Christmas by eating enormously, but one needs an English appetite for it ! ... I have forgotten to send my New Year’s wishes — • you know how I wish you all with all my heart a very happy year — and no year will be happier for me than the one when I find myself able, if only in the smallest degree, to add to your comfort 1 — Max.’
His life all these months had been one of very hard work and constant self-denial, and but for Bunsen’s substantial help he could not have lived on in England. He tells us hov\^ he walked to and from the India House every day, his arms full of books and papers. One day he left his spectacles, which he had broken, to be mended at a shop in the Strand, and on calling to fetch them, he laid down a sovereign to pay for them. The shopman returned him change for half a sovereign, and persisted that Max Miiller had only given him ten shillings. It was in vain to remonstrate, the man only became abusive to the unmistakable foreigner in a well-worn coat, and Max left the shop, sadly aware that the missing ten shillings represented several dinners, which he must give up. Some days passed, dinnerless, when one evening the man rushed out of the same shop as Max was passing it, with ten shillings in his hand, which he held out to him — ‘ Oh, sir,’ he said, ‘ I have watched for you several days. You were right ;
I found I had ten shillings too much when I counted up my money that evening, and I have longed to get it back to you,’ adding, ‘ for you look as if you wanted it.’
Meantime he was making friends in England. He had stayed more than once in the country at Totteridge with Bunsen, and with him had visited Archdeacon Hare. Mr.
Vaux of the British Museum had become a fast friend, an
intimacy which lasted till Mr. Vaux’s death. Max Miiller
constantly attended the suppers given by his friend, where the
invitation cards were adorned with pictures of Nineveh bulls
and hawk-headed deities, and where clouds of not over-good
tobacco smoke filled the air. ‘ Billy Russell,’ as we know,
constantly sent him tickets for concerts and theatres, so that,
6o Visit to Oxford [ch. iv
notwithstanding his hard work, and the uncertainty about the Veda, his early London Hfe was far more enjoyable than the first year of his stay in Paris. There were several young German Sanskritists at work in England, and with these and the colony of German merchants, living chiefly at Denmark Hill, and the members of the German Consulate he was in constant intercourse.
Early in 1 847 he went for a short time to Oxford to copy Sanskrit MSS.— his first sight of his future home. About the same time he made acquaintance by letter with Benfey, the great Sanskrit scholar at Gottingen, an acquaintance that soon ripened into a true friendship. Benfey was then engaged on his edition of the Sdma-veda, and many letters passed between the friends on points of Vedic grammar.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. London, February 12, 1847.
‘ Still in great uncertainty. I have only just returned to London, for I have been staying at Oxford, working in the Library there, and have thus seen the most interesting and beautiful city in Europe. The whole town is of the Middle Ages, and consists almost entirely of churches, monasteries (now Colleges), castles, and towers, all in old English or Gothic, and the whole life is of the Middle Ages. All students in black and white gowns and black caps, and so are the Professors, &c. And then the wealth and easy life in the Universities {sic), which are more High Schools than Universities.’
Not long after Max Midler’s return from Oxford he was able to write to his mother : —
Translation. 5, Newman’s Row, Lincoln’s Inn Fields,
April 15, 1847.
‘ At last the long conflict is decided, and I have carried off, so to
speak, the prize ! I can yet hardly believe that I have at last got
what I have struggled for so long, entire independence, and I am
filled with the thought of how much more I have gained than
I deserve. ... I am to hand over to the Company, ready for press,
fifty sheets each year — the same I had promised to Samter in Ger-
many; for this I have asked £200 a year, £4 a sheet. They have
been considering the matter since December, and it was only yester-
day that it was officially settled. I have to read the corrections, and
shall have plenty of time left to devote to my studies. ... As the work
1847] Rig-veda settled 61
will be above 400 sheets, I have a certain position for the next eight years, and the work is really so light I could take another post with it. This in fact has been already offered me, i. e. a place as Librarian at the British Museum, with £150 a year. But on Bunsen’s advice I have refused this, as I would rather be free the first years to study, till something more suitable presents itself, of which there is Httle doubt in time. And now what do you say, dearest mother.? Is it not more than I could have ever expected?
And have I not been right throughout to hold out to the very last,
and devote all my time and strength and money to one aim, and
pursue that to the last gasp 1 But only think that I had not a penny
left, and that in spite of every effort to make a little money, I should
have had to return to Germany had not Bunsen stood by me and
helped me by word and deed. It has been a bad time, and now
that it is over I may say so. I saw that the turning-point of my
life had come, and that after all the uncertainty I was only a few
steps from the goal, and yet I was not in a position to wait longer,
but should be forced to return to Germany, to give up my favourite
studies, if not entirely, yet mostly, in order to gain a scanty living
at a school or by private lessons. I knew that none of my relations
and friends agreed with me; on the contrary, that they all thought
my plans foolish and exaggerated, and I had no one from whom
I could expect support — I mean, who would have lent me a small
sum for a few years. In fact, all my time, money, and work, indeed
my whole life perhaps, would have been sacrificed and lost, had not
Bunsen, who had once been in the same position, without my saying
anything to him, stood by me, and in this way made it possible for
me to struggle on with joyful confidence and firm faith towards the
goal I had set before me. I do not know whether I should thank
God more that I have at last attained my long-desired and long-
sought object, or that I have gained the friendship of so noble and
distinguished a man as Bunsen. It is in these last weeks that I have
learned to know and value him so thoroughly. Archdeacon Hare
invited Bunsen and me to spend Easter with him in the country, and
so I spent the whole time in constant intercourse and conversation
with these two men and Sir John Herschell, the famous astronomer,
who was there on a visit, and thus I forgot all my troubles. In fact,
I spent a delightful time, and when I reached London yesterday
I found all settled, and I could say and feel, Thank God ! Now
I must at once send my thanks, and set to work to earn the first
£100. Till then Bunsen will lend me some money, which will not
be necessary later on, as one can live here comfortably on £150, and
at first my expenses will be small. We will not make any plans yet
62 Death of Mendelssohn [ch. iv
for the future. When my work is once arranged I can easily spend a month or two each year in Germany, and when I have put by a httle you might try if you could live comfortably in England. But at first, patience 1 My rooms here are small, but very nice — sitting- and bed-room — with a beautiful view over an old park and Gothic buildings. I pay, however, nearly £45, and that is cheap. As soon as I have earned a little money, my first purchase will be a piano — hiring is almost as dear as buying a second-hand one, which is always easy to find. What did you think of my Meghaduia ? I am well and happy.’
This summer Max mentions hearing Mendelssohn several times, both in public and at Bunsen’s. It was his last inter- course with the friend of his childhood, boyhood, and youth ; for at the close of the year he writes : —
To HIS Mother.
Translation. i, Garden Place, December ii.
‘ The death of Mendelssohn was a great shock to me, and yet is not his lot to be envied ? and if to live is to work, has he not Kved longer than many.? What comes from God is right and good. How beautifully Jean Paul speaks of comfort, but how much more beautiful and elevating is another book, which unhappily through man’s un- reason and man’s wisdom is so spoilt for us from childhood, that we can only slowly and by degrees read and live into it again. Here the general sympathy has been expressed in so many different ways. Elijah was twice performed, all in mourning, no applause, and at the beginning the Dead March in Saul. I could not go, it was too much for me. I could not at first touch the piano. Now there is a col- lection for a monument, probably in Westminster, where you know Handel is buried.’
To return to his daily life, now given up to the preparation of the text and Commentary of the Rig-veda. The MS. of the first volume was rapidly approaching completion. ‘ I get up at five every morning,’ he says (May 10), ‘ for I have a great deal to do, and the evenings are generally wasted in society. Summer is beginning, and there is more green each morning on the great trees before my window.’
For nearly four years Max Miiller had been copying and
collating the MSS. of the Rig-veda in order to publish a cor-
rect text, but this was by no means the most difficult part of
1847] Rig-veda 63
his taskj though it is the part that has been best understood and appreciated by the pubhc. Real Sanskrit scholars know that his knowledge of Sanskrit was tested and shown in the critical edition of Sayana’s Commentary. This work involved enormous labour, and he was often urged to work faster and less critically, but he kept to his first resolution, to publish the whole text of the Commentary, making it as perfect as possible. At the time he began his edition, many of the Sanskrit works quoted by Sayana were still unedited, whilst the references were brief, presupposing an intimate acquain- tance with the works quoted. Max Miiller had to trace these references, to copy the MSS. where they occur, and make full and careful indices. This he did, though often delayed by some obscure reference to Panini’s Grammar or Yaska’s Glos- sary. All these references had to be found, and their meaning ascertained, before any printing could be begun. They are now given in his edition of the Veda. He tells us he was often driven to despair by some obscure reference which neither Burnouf nor Wilson, the greatest Sanskrit scholars of the day, could help him to discover, ‘ It often took me whole days — nay, weeks — before I saw light. In the purely mechanical part other scholars could, and did, help me ; but whenever any real difficulty arose, I had to face it by myself, though after a time I gladly acknowledge that here too their advice was often valuable to me.’
Bunsen was determined, as his young friend would live in
England, at all events for several years to come, that he should
make the acquaintance of influential and distinguished people,
not only in London society, but in scientific and literary circles,
and therefore insisted on his attending, under his guidance, the
meeting of the British Association, which in 1847 was held
at Oxford. He not only attended, but prepared and read
a paper in English on the relation of Bengali to the Aryan and
aboriginal languages of India. He had been but a year in
England, and though he had completely mastered English,
and wrote and expressed himself correctly and forcibly, his
pronunciation was still very foreign, and it was with no little
trepidation that he stood up for the first time before a large
and critical English audience. His subject was one entirely
64 British Association [ch. iv
new to most of his hearers, but it excited great interest, and gave rise to a keen discussion, in which the young scholar was ably and chivalrously defended by Dr. Prichard, President of the Section, against the attacks and objections of certain members who thought that no good thing could come out of Germany. Though Max Miiller never reprinted this paper separately, and considered it as the crude production of a very young man (he was not twenty-four), he received, as late as 1892, a letter from a gentleman engaged in like studies with this allusion to his early essay : ‘ It seems to me that you have stated far more clearly than I have seen elsewhere the main facts of Bengali agglutination, and it is astonishing to me how wonderfully you have grasped them without visiting Bengal.’
It was on this occasion that Max Mijller first came into personal contact with Prince Albert, for whom he ever after- wards felt the strongest admiration and sympathy. They met from time to time at public dinners, or whenever the Prince Consort visited Oxford, but both were aware that, strongly as they
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
felt drawn to each other by common interests and national sympathies, more constant intercourse would not be wise for either of them, both being, in their different spheres of work, jealously watched as foreigners by suspicious John Bull.
After Max Muller’s return to London he tells his mother that he was ‘ feeling mentally and physically exhausted, as the various discussions in English tried him rather.’ Still, he speaks of this meeting as a delightful time, and he felt sure it would be of use to him.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Jtdy, 1847.
‘ The suggestion came, of course, again from Bunsen, who is deter- mined to push me in the world. He continues just the same to me, and his friendship and affection make my life very happy here. Yesterday there was a great Egyptian dinner at Bunsen’s. I was there ; for, after long indecision, I too have joined the hieroglyphists.
The printing goes on very slowly, as new letters have to be made, and
it will be a whole year before the first volume is ready: but when
everything is in order, I shall make £3 or £4 a week. As yet Bunsen
is still my banker, but my credit stands high with him ! The death
1847] Printing the Rig-veda 65
of Fanny Hensel has grieved me very much. I have not heard Jenny Lind yet, it is too expensive. How gladly would I have a quiet fortnight with you ; one gets no rest here.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Lot^do^^ , July 13.
‘ London is really unbearable from heat and dust, and I am longing so for the country that I shall try and find a little room, if possible, at the seaside, which I know will do me good. If only England were not so very dear, especially when one wants to amuse oneself. Prince Waldemar is here, and I have seen him several times and had several good dinners with him. I enclose the menu of the largest dinner, given by the Directors of the East India Company. Each cover cost £5. It is impossible to describe it, and I assure you I had rather eat potatoes jn Chemnitz ! Lord John Russell was there, and the //t’/e of society. Bun sen again did Httle else but intro- duce me to people who would be useful to me. But running about in society, eating, drinking, and talking, tires one out, and I shall get away as soon as I can.’
The printing of the Veda had now begun in real earnest,
and on July 13, 1847, he was able to send to Burnouf in
Paris the first two sheets of Volume I. ‘ How willingly,’ he
says, ‘ would I have visited Paris this summer to seek advice
and information on many points from you, but I am chained
here. When my first volume is ready I shall take a holiday,
that I may present it to you in person. I rejoice in the pros-
pect, for I cannot repeat often enough that I owe it to your
advice and friendly sympathy alone that I am now realizing
the plans I formed in my youth.*
In August he writes to his mother from i, Garden Place, Lincoln’s Inn : —
Translation.
‘ As you see I have changed my rooms once more, as there was a bad smell in the other house in this heat, and I thought it was not healthy. I am quite away from the street, and live as in a garden. I have in fact two houses, for all day long I am in the India House, where I have my own room, all surrounded by books and MSS.
I have a long way to walk there and back every day, which is very
I F
66 Friends in London [ch. iv
good for me. My printing goes on well, so that I am quite happy and satisfied. I had to give up my stay in the country, or at the seaside, as I had neither money nor time for it. Instead, I have hired a piano, which is a great delight. How often I have thought of you lately, and your pleasant life at Dresden. Yes, however good the life here is for the brain and soul, one’s heart often longs for something else, and if I had not Bunsen and his family, life here would often be very sad to me. But I will not complain, I am determined to be as happy as I can be, for how much brighter has my whole life turned out, than I ventured to expect or hope. My life in London now is so quiet and uniform that I have nothing to tell you. The Bunsens are going into the country, where he will rest after the long season. He does a great deal of literary work, and I read or hear it all, and we often have sharp discussions, as you may imagine, as I cannot help speaking out plainly, and he also wields a sharp sword. But he is delightful, and we always remain good friends.’
To THE Same.
Translation. September i.
‘ My rooms in London are delightful, and my piano a real joy. In the same house lives Dr. Trithen, an Orientalist, whom I knew in Paris, and who was once employed in the Office for Foreign Affairs in St. Petersburg. Then there are a great many other Orientalists in London, who are mostly living near me, and we form an Oriental colony from all parts of the world. Dr. Bergstedt, a Swede ; Koll- gren, a Finn ; Abb^ Bardelli, an Italian ; Dr. Dillmann from Suabia ;
Dr. Spiegel from Bavaria; Dr. Weber from Berlin. When we are all together, it sounds like a perfect Babel, and we have a good deal of fun at our cosmopolitan tea-evenings.’
By the middle of October, Max Miiller was able to send the first sheet of Sayana’s Commentary to M. Burnouf. He says in a letter dated ‘ i, Garden Place, Oct. 18 ‘ : —
Translation,
‘ This first sheet has cost me much time and trouble, as they had
not sufficient types at Oxford, which caused endless delay. Now that
they have founded the accented letters, I hope to get on faster, but
I send this first sheet because if you have any serious objections to the
general plan I have adopted, conformably with my position here in
London, I could still make necessary alterations. I often feel that
the Rig-veda and Commentary ought to have fallen into worthier
hands, but I will do all that I possibly can. I count on your indul-
1847] Btirnouf on the Veda 67
gence, but shall, at the same time, be most grateful if you will point out any mistakes.’
To this Burnouf replied : —
Translation. November 9.
‘ My dear Friend, — I thank you for having sent me the sheets of your grand edition of the Rig-veda. I use the word grand, not to avoid saying excellent, because I consider it both grand and excellent, but because I must express my admiration of Professor Wilson’s fine and vigorous Devanagart type. I have examined your sheets, and I must own that I am astonished that in so short a time you have been able to master the mass of materials at hand. One has a right to demand of an editor a correct list, a suitable division of the words, an indication of the Hindu divisions according to the two systems, the text so far separated from the Commentary that they can never be mistaken the one for the other, a reproduction of the Pada MS. and position of the accents according to the copies of the Rishis. You have given all this with exemplary care and completeness. But you have given us much more, and here I cannot praise you too highly. You indicate the quotations, and trace them not only to works that are accessible, but to many that are still entirely unedited. I congratulate you with all my heart on your de’but, and I venture to say on your success, for your success is secured. You know me well enough, I hope, to feel the sincerity of my congratulations. We older men, who came too early to embark on the great enterprises which younger men can undertake, we have only the duty of clapping our hands to show the public what they ought to honour and esteem. Believe me, I shall not fail in doing this ; and it is a great delight to do it for a man whose knowledge I admire and whose character I love. And I think I may be allowed to reflect with pleasure on any effort I may have made to encourage you to march on in entire independence, avoiding all collaborations. This is the only thing on which I can pride myself, and it again is entirely to your honour, because it only proves that I recognized all that science might expect from you. Believe me that I am more than ever filled with this sentiment, and continue to reckon me among those who follow your success with the greatest delight. ‘E. Burnouf.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation. November 9.
‘ My time is entirely occupied with the Veda . . . but my work is
delightful, and I feel sure that in six or seven years it will bring in
F 2
68 Babylonian Inscriptions [ch. iv
plenty, and I am quite independent, and that is worth more than anything else. But the idea of marrying is absurd, and happily as yet love has left me tolerably alone, for I have other things to fill my head and heart. I have just had an offer to go to Benares, and print the Veda there, which I have refused. I correspond with the Brahmans there, and the Indian papers often mention Dr. M. M., but that is of no help.’
To Burnouf he writes : —
Translation. i, Garden Place, December 5, 1847.
‘ Your last letter gave me the greatest pleasure, and I thank you warmly. I know well that you are full of indulgence and kindness, such as I must not expect from the severe critics of Russia and Germany, but I own that your favourable opinion, and that of Wilson, Lassen, and Bopp, are the most delightful reward, and the only one I wish for, and that it gives me new courage to persevere in a task that would otherwise often seem dry and distasteful. The news that I have received through M, d’Eckstein that you have successfully deciphered the Nineveh inscriptions would have asionished me, had one not been accustomed to such happy surprises from the successor of Champollion. I consider this discovery the grandest and most important of the century ; it must throw light on many fundamental questions of ancient ethnography. Up to now, I have not found anything really solid and satisfactory in all the conjectures on the so-called Indian, Babylonian, and Assyrian inscriptions. I hear that Dr. Hincks sent yesterday to the Asiatic Society a complete transla- tion of the inscriptions of Van, made by means of an Indo-germanic language. But I must examine it myself. Rawlinson has at last managed to copy a part of the third inscription at Behistun, and he writes that he now for the first time touches solid ground. Incredulous as I have been about all these promises and experiments, I am now convinced that under your guidance a new region will be opened to science, and I await the signal impatiently.’
This important year of Max’s life was dravi^ing to a close. His success had justified his perseverance in a career which had at one time seemed utterly hopeless, and he was rewarded at last for the long struggle, for the bitter self-denials of his early years.
For the first time we find a mention in his Christmas
letter of a gift of money to the mother to whose unceasing
care and self- forgetfulness he owed everything. This he
1847] Christmas Gift 69
never forgot to the last hour of her life, and it was his constant delight from this time onwards to add to her comforts and pleasures.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. i, Garden Place, Lincoln’s Inn,
December ii, 1847.
*. . . I must now give you some commissions. Take the enclosed £5 note and change it at a banker’s, and with half of it buy something very nice for Frau Hofrathin Muller ; with the other half something pretty for Frau Dr. Krug, and some toys for the two little Krugs.
‘ Your Max.’
CHAPTER V
1848
Visit to Paris. Revolution. Settles at Oxford. Friends there. Letters
to Burnouf and Bunsen.
The year 1848 began gaily for the young stranger. He had moved to King WiHiam Street, Strand, to be a little nearer to the Prussian Legation, though he already began to recognize the disadvantage of being so far from his printers, now that the first volume of the Rig-veda was passing through the Press. No London firm could have undertaken the work, from want of the proper types, whilst the Oxford University Press, with the help of Professor Wilson, had secured the finest Devanagari types then known. Of his gaieties he writes to his mother : —
Translation. 5, King William Street, Strand,
Jainiary 27, 1848.
‘ Last week I went to two balls in English families to whom I have been introduced. It was a beautiful sight, and the balls lasted till four. I have not treated myself to a new evening coat — my old one does fairly well, and I danced away in it. The young girls in England are very beautiful and very pleasant ; one hardly sees a single ugly face in a ball-room — which one cannot say in either France or Germany — and so one spends a very pleasant evening. The Bunsens do not give balls, but most agreeable parties with good music. But my chief employment is my work at the East India House, and I hope this year to finish the first volume of about 600 pages.’
In February he found it necessary to visit Paris, to look
at some MSS. in the Bibliotheque Royale, and was still there
when the Revolution broke out. In the Autobiography he
has described his difficulty in getting back to England, but
1848] French Revolution 71
says little of what he actually saw in Paris, and the letter he wrote to his mother immediately after his escape, for it was really that, is full of interesting details.
Translation. London, Monday, March i, 184S.
‘ I went for a fortnight to Paris, partly to see Hagedorn, partly to finish some work at the Bibliotheque Royale. You will have seen from the papers what a fearful time I had there, and I thanked God when I stood safe again on English ground. I am sdll so excited that I can hardly describe all I have seen and done. Since Tuesday last, I have had sleepless nights from fighting, the roar of cannon, burning of houses, fall of buildings, &c., men murdered by hundreds or simply shot down in the streets. No one’s life was safe, for there was neither Government, police, nor soldiers. The man in the blouse was lord of all, and blood ran in the streets, which were filled with barricades. Women on horseback, ruffians on the finest officers’ chargers paraded the streets, carrying Louis Philippe’s throne in triumph. The only brave soldiers were the Municipal Guards, and I saw them cut down and hacked in pieces by the mob. One could see all that went on from Hagedorn’s windows ; the bullets whistled on every side, and yet ladies went out on foot pour voir la Revolution. We did the same, and were more than once pursued by the cavalry.
I saw barricades built up of omnibuses, tables, and pianos, attacked
and taken, and again built up, till at last the soldiers fraternized with
the people, gave up their weapons, and finally withdrew. There was
nothing grand in it. The French journals have no authority, for they
are written by and for the victors, who proclaimed liberty of the Press,
but against whom the Press dare not assert its liberty. It might have
been worse, that is the only thing one can say for the mob. The
Garde Nationale were cowards, never appeared at all the first day,
from fear of the Minister. The second day everything seemed over
and quiet, and one rejoiced that without any loss of life a blinded
Ministry had fallen, and the people had carried their point in a constitu-
tional way. But those who had made the demonstration the first two
days were not yet satisfied ; the Republicans and Communists tried to
profit by the public excitement to stir the people up again. On the
other side the friends of Thiers intrigued, especially Bugeaud, who
was Commandant of Paris, and who on the evening of the second day
could still have re-established order, had he not connived with his
troops to place the Ministry in Thiers’ hands by letting the revolution
have its own way a little. But when this was effected, it was too late ;
the people and the troops fraternized and streamed together to the
Tuileries: the people armed, but not the military. Louis Philippe,
72 French Revolution [ch. v
the King of the barricades, fled from the barricades, and from the people who trusted their rights to him, and whose interests he had sacrificed in his selfish plans for his own dynasty. No resistance was then possible ; the Repubhcans had no opposition to fear ; the Duchess of Orleans with her sons was insulted, and the Republic proclaimed. The railways were already broken up, only the one to Havre had been forgotten, so over the barricades, and with shots on all sides, I got to the station at ten at night on Thursday. Next morning I reached Havre, and by six on Saturday evening, after a very bad passage, arrived in London. I am glad to have seen what I did, but seeing it was terrible. I was at one time quite close to the mob, and escaped by some side steps from the Boulevard des Capucins, where Guizot’s house stands, into the Rue Basse des Remparts. In one instant came a shot, then a fusillade, and from that moment the fighting and flying never ceased, till Louis Philippe was gone and the Republic proclaimed. I could do little work, and am thankful to be back and in safety with my Veda. In spite of all this turmoil I am much better, and so my work will get on faster.’
It was Max MUller who brought Lord Palmerston the first certain news of Louis Philippe’s flight.
To his friend Dr. Pauli, the Anglo-Saxon scholar, at this time settled in England, and whom he had first met in Paris, he wrote : ‘It was terrible, but one learns history by it.’
On March 23 he writes again to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ You must not trouble yourself too much with these bad times,
and their reforms and revolutions. They are developments which
are unavoidable in history, and such crises are necessary to get rid
of all the poison that has long been collecting in society. One must
not imagine that a few men who are at the head of affairs ma^e
these revolutions. Such events are not made; they happen, through
a higher Will, though the tools employed do not always seem the
most worthy. When one sees the beginning of a revolution, with
all its details and apparent accidents, as I saw it in Paris, one
quickly perceives that it is in no one’s power to reckon on these
movements, where often one look, one resolution, one cry, determines
the fate of hundreds and thousands. In such moments a man feels
his true weakness, he realizes what he is ; during the quiet course
of a peaceful life a man becomes so self-confident and so certain of
his own wisdom, that such shocks are necessary to bring him again
to himself. These lessons are specially good for the wise diplomatists
who imagine they can direct mankind according to their own prudent
1848] Climate of England 73
and self-seeking calculations, and for the sovereigns who imagine mankind is only made for them. Now is the time for all to learn that nothing lasts or gives us power but what is right, and the consciousness of having desired the welfare of others and not of our own selves. I hoped this movement would pass over more quietly in Germany than elsewhere. I trusted our kings as having a more upright judgement, and higher desires, more love for their people, and a more self-sacrificing spirit. Instead of this, everywhere, either cowardice or miserable blindness and self-confidence. The punish- ment for this will not be wanting, and it is sad that bad teeth can only be extracted with loss of blood and much suffering of the whole body. If all those gentlemen could be sent to England to the Universities, they might learn what are the conditions which alone make a king possible in these days. Would to God they might learn the lesson ! The longer they hesitate, the greater will be the demands, the more terrible the conflict. The German people are good-tempered, but can be roused by deceit, distrust, and selfish- ness. Here in England all is quiet, and the means exist here for making revolutions in a peaceful, lawful, and constitutional way. I am only afraid they may summon Bunsen to Berhn. He might do much good there, but it would be a terrible loss to me, and I hardly think I could endure life here without him. He is the sort of diplo- matist they all should be, a true man, simple and good, desiring and striving for what is right, and leaving the rest to Providence. For this the wise Metternich pronounces him to be no diplomatist. We shall see who stands firmest. In spite of the great excitement in which one lives, I can collect myself enough to work hard — and that quiets one. I am much better since I was in Paris, and have got rid of my cough. I really feel quite well, so there is no cause for you to be anxious. Your last letter arrived some time after I had sent mine off, for the post everywhere is most irregular now. If the weather is fine, I may spend part of the summer in Oxford to be nearer my printers. The Governors of the East India House wish to see something for their money ; but I have only two arms — not a thousand like Vishnu.’
During his whole life in England, Max Miiller found the
variable climate, and especially the damp winters, a great
trial to his strength, and in his two first winters passed in
London he was so constantly laid up with severe colds and
headaches, and unable to do his work, that his mother was
seriously anxious about him. He always maintained that
the severe cold of a German winter was less trying to the
74 Settling at Oxford [ch. v
constitution than the fogs, and damp, and bitter east winds of England. Early in May he went for change to Oxford, intending only to stay through the bright summer months in a place which, from his first visit in June, 1847, cast the glamour of its beauty over him, and which was to be his home for above fifty-two years. He settled himself in two small rooms in Walton Place, as being near the Press, and soon after his arrival he writes to his valued patron and friend the first of many letters : —
Translation. J7, Walton Place, Oxford,
May 18, 1848.
‘ Your Excellency, — Beautiful and pleasant as Oxford is at this season, and happy and contented as I feel in this sedes Musartim, it is difficult, at least on a day like this, the opening day of the Reichstag in Frankfort, to subdue the longing for one’s German home ; and so I hope you will allow me, at all events for a short time, to feel as if I were in my native surroundings, by writing to you. The delightful hours which you allowed me to spend with you in London are indeed the only thing that I miss here in Oxford, and that make me long sometimes to be back in old London. I therefore hope you will allow me from time to time to recall in writing those happy hours, and if my letters arrive like inopportune visitors in the midst of dispatches and diplomatic notes, please lay them aside, just as you so often used to say in your friendly way, “ Now, make haste and go.” It is delightful that you have chosen Schleswig, and Schleswig has chosen you. It is indeed no usual object of ambition to sit on the same bench with master butchers and cobblers, but it is a sacrifice which in these days the true Aryan is willing to make for the Father- land, when he has the right and opportunity to do so. In this indistinguishable chaos the necessary thing is to find men who can form a party, and attract a
After Max Muller’s return to London he tells his mother that he was ‘ feeling mentally and physically exhausted, as the various discussions in English tried him rather.’ Still, he speaks of this meeting as a delightful time, and he felt sure it would be of use to him.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Jtdy, 1847.
‘ The suggestion came, of course, again from Bunsen, who is deter- mined to push me in the world. He continues just the same to me, and his friendship and affection make my life very happy here. Yesterday there was a great Egyptian dinner at Bunsen’s. I was there ; for, after long indecision, I too have joined the hieroglyphists.
The printing goes on very slowly, as new letters have to be made, and
it will be a whole year before the first volume is ready: but when
everything is in order, I shall make £3 or £4 a week. As yet Bunsen
is still my banker, but my credit stands high with him ! The death
1847] Printing the Rig-veda 65
of Fanny Hensel has grieved me very much. I have not heard Jenny Lind yet, it is too expensive. How gladly would I have a quiet fortnight with you ; one gets no rest here.’
To THE Same.
Translation. Lot^do^^ , July 13.
‘ London is really unbearable from heat and dust, and I am longing so for the country that I shall try and find a little room, if possible, at the seaside, which I know will do me good. If only England were not so very dear, especially when one wants to amuse oneself. Prince Waldemar is here, and I have seen him several times and had several good dinners with him. I enclose the menu of the largest dinner, given by the Directors of the East India Company. Each cover cost £5. It is impossible to describe it, and I assure you I had rather eat potatoes jn Chemnitz ! Lord John Russell was there, and the //t’/e of society. Bun sen again did Httle else but intro- duce me to people who would be useful to me. But running about in society, eating, drinking, and talking, tires one out, and I shall get away as soon as I can.’
The printing of the Veda had now begun in real earnest,
and on July 13, 1847, he was able to send to Burnouf in
Paris the first two sheets of Volume I. ‘ How willingly,’ he
says, ‘ would I have visited Paris this summer to seek advice
and information on many points from you, but I am chained
here. When my first volume is ready I shall take a holiday,
that I may present it to you in person. I rejoice in the pros-
pect, for I cannot repeat often enough that I owe it to your
advice and friendly sympathy alone that I am now realizing
the plans I formed in my youth.*
In August he writes to his mother from i, Garden Place, Lincoln’s Inn : —
Translation.
‘ As you see I have changed my rooms once more, as there was a bad smell in the other house in this heat, and I thought it was not healthy. I am quite away from the street, and live as in a garden. I have in fact two houses, for all day long I am in the India House, where I have my own room, all surrounded by books and MSS.
I have a long way to walk there and back every day, which is very
I F
66 Friends in London [ch. iv
good for me. My printing goes on well, so that I am quite happy and satisfied. I had to give up my stay in the country, or at the seaside, as I had neither money nor time for it. Instead, I have hired a piano, which is a great delight. How often I have thought of you lately, and your pleasant life at Dresden. Yes, however good the life here is for the brain and soul, one’s heart often longs for something else, and if I had not Bunsen and his family, life here would often be very sad to me. But I will not complain, I am determined to be as happy as I can be, for how much brighter has my whole life turned out, than I ventured to expect or hope. My life in London now is so quiet and uniform that I have nothing to tell you. The Bunsens are going into the country, where he will rest after the long season. He does a great deal of literary work, and I read or hear it all, and we often have sharp discussions, as you may imagine, as I cannot help speaking out plainly, and he also wields a sharp sword. But he is delightful, and we always remain good friends.’
To THE Same.
Translation. September i.
‘ My rooms in London are delightful, and my piano a real joy. In the same house lives Dr. Trithen, an Orientalist, whom I knew in Paris, and who was once employed in the Office for Foreign Affairs in St. Petersburg. Then there are a great many other Orientalists in London, who are mostly living near me, and we form an Oriental colony from all parts of the world. Dr. Bergstedt, a Swede ; Koll- gren, a Finn ; Abb^ Bardelli, an Italian ; Dr. Dillmann from Suabia ;
Dr. Spiegel from Bavaria; Dr. Weber from Berlin. When we are all together, it sounds like a perfect Babel, and we have a good deal of fun at our cosmopolitan tea-evenings.’
By the middle of October, Max Miiller was able to send the first sheet of Sayana’s Commentary to M. Burnouf. He says in a letter dated ‘ i, Garden Place, Oct. 18 ‘ : —
Translation,
‘ This first sheet has cost me much time and trouble, as they had
not sufficient types at Oxford, which caused endless delay. Now that
they have founded the accented letters, I hope to get on faster, but
I send this first sheet because if you have any serious objections to the
general plan I have adopted, conformably with my position here in
London, I could still make necessary alterations. I often feel that
the Rig-veda and Commentary ought to have fallen into worthier
hands, but I will do all that I possibly can. I count on your indul-
1847] Btirnouf on the Veda 67
gence, but shall, at the same time, be most grateful if you will point out any mistakes.’
To this Burnouf replied : —
Translation. November 9.
‘ My dear Friend, — I thank you for having sent me the sheets of your grand edition of the Rig-veda. I use the word grand, not to avoid saying excellent, because I consider it both grand and excellent, but because I must express my admiration of Professor Wilson’s fine and vigorous Devanagart type. I have examined your sheets, and I must own that I am astonished that in so short a time you have been able to master the mass of materials at hand. One has a right to demand of an editor a correct list, a suitable division of the words, an indication of the Hindu divisions according to the two systems, the text so far separated from the Commentary that they can never be mistaken the one for the other, a reproduction of the Pada MS. and position of the accents according to the copies of the Rishis. You have given all this with exemplary care and completeness. But you have given us much more, and here I cannot praise you too highly. You indicate the quotations, and trace them not only to works that are accessible, but to many that are still entirely unedited. I congratulate you with all my heart on your de’but, and I venture to say on your success, for your success is secured. You know me well enough, I hope, to feel the sincerity of my congratulations. We older men, who came too early to embark on the great enterprises which younger men can undertake, we have only the duty of clapping our hands to show the public what they ought to honour and esteem. Believe me, I shall not fail in doing this ; and it is a great delight to do it for a man whose knowledge I admire and whose character I love. And I think I may be allowed to reflect with pleasure on any effort I may have made to encourage you to march on in entire independence, avoiding all collaborations. This is the only thing on which I can pride myself, and it again is entirely to your honour, because it only proves that I recognized all that science might expect from you. Believe me that I am more than ever filled with this sentiment, and continue to reckon me among those who follow your success with the greatest delight. ‘E. Burnouf.’
To HIS Mother.
Translation. November 9.
‘ My time is entirely occupied with the Veda . . . but my work is
delightful, and I feel sure that in six or seven years it will bring in
F 2
68 Babylonian Inscriptions [ch. iv
plenty, and I am quite independent, and that is worth more than anything else. But the idea of marrying is absurd, and happily as yet love has left me tolerably alone, for I have other things to fill my head and heart. I have just had an offer to go to Benares, and print the Veda there, which I have refused. I correspond with the Brahmans there, and the Indian papers often mention Dr. M. M., but that is of no help.’
To Burnouf he writes : —
Translation. i, Garden Place, December 5, 1847.
‘ Your last letter gave me the greatest pleasure, and I thank you warmly. I know well that you are full of indulgence and kindness, such as I must not expect from the severe critics of Russia and Germany, but I own that your favourable opinion, and that of Wilson, Lassen, and Bopp, are the most delightful reward, and the only one I wish for, and that it gives me new courage to persevere in a task that would otherwise often seem dry and distasteful. The news that I have received through M, d’Eckstein that you have successfully deciphered the Nineveh inscriptions would have asionished me, had one not been accustomed to such happy surprises from the successor of Champollion. I consider this discovery the grandest and most important of the century ; it must throw light on many fundamental questions of ancient ethnography. Up to now, I have not found anything really solid and satisfactory in all the conjectures on the so-called Indian, Babylonian, and Assyrian inscriptions. I hear that Dr. Hincks sent yesterday to the Asiatic Society a complete transla- tion of the inscriptions of Van, made by means of an Indo-germanic language. But I must examine it myself. Rawlinson has at last managed to copy a part of the third inscription at Behistun, and he writes that he now for the first time touches solid ground. Incredulous as I have been about all these promises and experiments, I am now convinced that under your guidance a new region will be opened to science, and I await the signal impatiently.’
This important year of Max’s life was dravi^ing to a close. His success had justified his perseverance in a career which had at one time seemed utterly hopeless, and he was rewarded at last for the long struggle, for the bitter self-denials of his early years.
For the first time we find a mention in his Christmas
letter of a gift of money to the mother to whose unceasing
care and self- forgetfulness he owed everything. This he
1847] Christmas Gift 69
never forgot to the last hour of her life, and it was his constant delight from this time onwards to add to her comforts and pleasures.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. i, Garden Place, Lincoln’s Inn,
December ii, 1847.
*. . . I must now give you some commissions. Take the enclosed £5 note and change it at a banker’s, and with half of it buy something very nice for Frau Hofrathin Muller ; with the other half something pretty for Frau Dr. Krug, and some toys for the two little Krugs.
‘ Your Max.’
CHAPTER V
1848
Visit to Paris. Revolution. Settles at Oxford. Friends there. Letters
to Burnouf and Bunsen.
The year 1848 began gaily for the young stranger. He had moved to King WiHiam Street, Strand, to be a little nearer to the Prussian Legation, though he already began to recognize the disadvantage of being so far from his printers, now that the first volume of the Rig-veda was passing through the Press. No London firm could have undertaken the work, from want of the proper types, whilst the Oxford University Press, with the help of Professor Wilson, had secured the finest Devanagari types then known. Of his gaieties he writes to his mother : —
Translation. 5, King William Street, Strand,
Jainiary 27, 1848.
‘ Last week I went to two balls in English families to whom I have been introduced. It was a beautiful sight, and the balls lasted till four. I have not treated myself to a new evening coat — my old one does fairly well, and I danced away in it. The young girls in England are very beautiful and very pleasant ; one hardly sees a single ugly face in a ball-room — which one cannot say in either France or Germany — and so one spends a very pleasant evening. The Bunsens do not give balls, but most agreeable parties with good music. But my chief employment is my work at the East India House, and I hope this year to finish the first volume of about 600 pages.’
In February he found it necessary to visit Paris, to look
at some MSS. in the Bibliotheque Royale, and was still there
when the Revolution broke out. In the Autobiography he
has described his difficulty in getting back to England, but
1848] French Revolution 71
says little of what he actually saw in Paris, and the letter he wrote to his mother immediately after his escape, for it was really that, is full of interesting details.
Translation. London, Monday, March i, 184S.
‘ I went for a fortnight to Paris, partly to see Hagedorn, partly to finish some work at the Bibliotheque Royale. You will have seen from the papers what a fearful time I had there, and I thanked God when I stood safe again on English ground. I am sdll so excited that I can hardly describe all I have seen and done. Since Tuesday last, I have had sleepless nights from fighting, the roar of cannon, burning of houses, fall of buildings, &c., men murdered by hundreds or simply shot down in the streets. No one’s life was safe, for there was neither Government, police, nor soldiers. The man in the blouse was lord of all, and blood ran in the streets, which were filled with barricades. Women on horseback, ruffians on the finest officers’ chargers paraded the streets, carrying Louis Philippe’s throne in triumph. The only brave soldiers were the Municipal Guards, and I saw them cut down and hacked in pieces by the mob. One could see all that went on from Hagedorn’s windows ; the bullets whistled on every side, and yet ladies went out on foot pour voir la Revolution. We did the same, and were more than once pursued by the cavalry.
I saw barricades built up of omnibuses, tables, and pianos, attacked
and taken, and again built up, till at last the soldiers fraternized with
the people, gave up their weapons, and finally withdrew. There was
nothing grand in it. The French journals have no authority, for they
are written by and for the victors, who proclaimed liberty of the Press,
but against whom the Press dare not assert its liberty. It might have
been worse, that is the only thing one can say for the mob. The
Garde Nationale were cowards, never appeared at all the first day,
from fear of the Minister. The second day everything seemed over
and quiet, and one rejoiced that without any loss of life a blinded
Ministry had fallen, and the people had carried their point in a constitu-
tional way. But those who had made the demonstration the first two
days were not yet satisfied ; the Republicans and Communists tried to
profit by the public excitement to stir the people up again. On the
other side the friends of Thiers intrigued, especially Bugeaud, who
was Commandant of Paris, and who on the evening of the second day
could still have re-established order, had he not connived with his
troops to place the Ministry in Thiers’ hands by letting the revolution
have its own way a little. But when this was effected, it was too late ;
the people and the troops fraternized and streamed together to the
Tuileries: the people armed, but not the military. Louis Philippe,
72 French Revolution [ch. v
the King of the barricades, fled from the barricades, and from the people who trusted their rights to him, and whose interests he had sacrificed in his selfish plans for his own dynasty. No resistance was then possible ; the Repubhcans had no opposition to fear ; the Duchess of Orleans with her sons was insulted, and the Republic proclaimed. The railways were already broken up, only the one to Havre had been forgotten, so over the barricades, and with shots on all sides, I got to the station at ten at night on Thursday. Next morning I reached Havre, and by six on Saturday evening, after a very bad passage, arrived in London. I am glad to have seen what I did, but seeing it was terrible. I was at one time quite close to the mob, and escaped by some side steps from the Boulevard des Capucins, where Guizot’s house stands, into the Rue Basse des Remparts. In one instant came a shot, then a fusillade, and from that moment the fighting and flying never ceased, till Louis Philippe was gone and the Republic proclaimed. I could do little work, and am thankful to be back and in safety with my Veda. In spite of all this turmoil I am much better, and so my work will get on faster.’
It was Max MUller who brought Lord Palmerston the first certain news of Louis Philippe’s flight.
To his friend Dr. Pauli, the Anglo-Saxon scholar, at this time settled in England, and whom he had first met in Paris, he wrote : ‘It was terrible, but one learns history by it.’
On March 23 he writes again to his mother : —
Translation.
‘ You must not trouble yourself too much with these bad times,
and their reforms and revolutions. They are developments which
are unavoidable in history, and such crises are necessary to get rid
of all the poison that has long been collecting in society. One must
not imagine that a few men who are at the head of affairs ma^e
these revolutions. Such events are not made; they happen, through
a higher Will, though the tools employed do not always seem the
most worthy. When one sees the beginning of a revolution, with
all its details and apparent accidents, as I saw it in Paris, one
quickly perceives that it is in no one’s power to reckon on these
movements, where often one look, one resolution, one cry, determines
the fate of hundreds and thousands. In such moments a man feels
his true weakness, he realizes what he is ; during the quiet course
of a peaceful life a man becomes so self-confident and so certain of
his own wisdom, that such shocks are necessary to bring him again
to himself. These lessons are specially good for the wise diplomatists
who imagine they can direct mankind according to their own prudent
1848] Climate of England 73
and self-seeking calculations, and for the sovereigns who imagine mankind is only made for them. Now is the time for all to learn that nothing lasts or gives us power but what is right, and the consciousness of having desired the welfare of others and not of our own selves. I hoped this movement would pass over more quietly in Germany than elsewhere. I trusted our kings as having a more upright judgement, and higher desires, more love for their people, and a more self-sacrificing spirit. Instead of this, everywhere, either cowardice or miserable blindness and self-confidence. The punish- ment for this will not be wanting, and it is sad that bad teeth can only be extracted with loss of blood and much suffering of the whole body. If all those gentlemen could be sent to England to the Universities, they might learn what are the conditions which alone make a king possible in these days. Would to God they might learn the lesson ! The longer they hesitate, the greater will be the demands, the more terrible the conflict. The German people are good-tempered, but can be roused by deceit, distrust, and selfish- ness. Here in England all is quiet, and the means exist here for making revolutions in a peaceful, lawful, and constitutional way. I am only afraid they may summon Bunsen to Berhn. He might do much good there, but it would be a terrible loss to me, and I hardly think I could endure life here without him. He is the sort of diplo- matist they all should be, a true man, simple and good, desiring and striving for what is right, and leaving the rest to Providence. For this the wise Metternich pronounces him to be no diplomatist. We shall see who stands firmest. In spite of the great excitement in which one lives, I can collect myself enough to work hard — and that quiets one. I am much better since I was in Paris, and have got rid of my cough. I really feel quite well, so there is no cause for you to be anxious. Your last letter arrived some time after I had sent mine off, for the post everywhere is most irregular now. If the weather is fine, I may spend part of the summer in Oxford to be nearer my printers. The Governors of the East India House wish to see something for their money ; but I have only two arms — not a thousand like Vishnu.’
During his whole life in England, Max Miiller found the
variable climate, and especially the damp winters, a great
trial to his strength, and in his two first winters passed in
London he was so constantly laid up with severe colds and
headaches, and unable to do his work, that his mother was
seriously anxious about him. He always maintained that
the severe cold of a German winter was less trying to the
74 Settling at Oxford [ch. v
constitution than the fogs, and damp, and bitter east winds of England. Early in May he went for change to Oxford, intending only to stay through the bright summer months in a place which, from his first visit in June, 1847, cast the glamour of its beauty over him, and which was to be his home for above fifty-two years. He settled himself in two small rooms in Walton Place, as being near the Press, and soon after his arrival he writes to his valued patron and friend the first of many letters : —
Translation. J7, Walton Place, Oxford,
May 18, 1848.
‘ Your Excellency, — Beautiful and pleasant as Oxford is at this season, and happy and contented as I feel in this sedes Musartim, it is difficult, at least on a day like this, the opening day of the Reichstag in Frankfort, to subdue the longing for one’s German home ; and so I hope you will allow me, at all events for a short time, to feel as if I were in my native surroundings, by writing to you. The delightful hours which you allowed me to spend with you in London are indeed the only thing that I miss here in Oxford, and that make me long sometimes to be back in old London. I therefore hope you will allow me from time to time to recall in writing those happy hours, and if my letters arrive like inopportune visitors in the midst of dispatches and diplomatic notes, please lay them aside, just as you so often used to say in your friendly way, “ Now, make haste and go.” It is delightful that you have chosen Schleswig, and Schleswig has chosen you. It is indeed no usual object of ambition to sit on the same bench with master butchers and cobblers, but it is a sacrifice which in these days the true Aryan is willing to make for the Father- land, when he has the right and opportunity to do so. In this indistinguishable chaos the necessary thing is to find men who can form a party, and attract a
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
majority to them. In Germans, however, personal opinion and conviction are so supreme and unruly, that we need men who will seize the German John Bull, not, as is usual, by the horns, but in a friendly way, by his soft and weak points.
No doubt there will be many good men of the State there, but few
good statesmen. Everything in Frankfort will depend on how the
first majority is formed, but I don’t believe that any party in Germany,
be it what it may, would have any prospect of influence, if, when
finding itself in a minority, it resorts to violence. Modern history
accustoms itself to look on majorities which have arisen naturally
in the same way as the old world must have originally looked upon
1848] Life in Oxford 75
their “Judgement of God,” but with this diflference, that for the Christian world the Godlike has assumed the form of humanity and freedom, by the side of that of nature and necessity. Life here in Oxford is remarkably pleasant ; the place is so beautiful, and every- body so friendly and good, many people very superior and interesting.
I have not seen much of Stanley, as he is very much occupied ; but
I know many of the Fellows, who pursue the same objects, and with
even more understanding and determination, From many different
sides one hears of a wish for reforms in the life of the University, but
they are afraid of the Government ; and that if they once give it the
opportunity it will interfere far more than they desire. They par-
ticularly dread the tendencies of the Cheap Government, which might
involve them in Cheap Education, and therefore they would rather
remain quiet and keep their own. I have given your pamphlet on
Schleswig to Stanley, Dr. Jacobson, Dr. Plumptre, and Dr. Acland,
and I hear that Dr. Twiss means to write an answer ; the same man
who wrote on the Oregon question. One hopes it may come post
factum, like King Oscar’s troops, though I must own that it would be
wonderful if they could persuade the Holger Danske to listen to
reason and act accordingly.’ ‘
To his mother he describes his new life thus : —
Translation. 17, Walton Place, May 21.
‘ Here I am at last settled in Oxford. I have already told you how beautiful it is, and now in spring it is perfect ; the finest gardens I have ever seen, the old trees and the green velvety turf such as one only sees in England. I am enjoying the spring here as I have not enjoyed it for years, and feel better than I ever felt in hot, dirty, noisy London. I like the people here very much, and my work gets on much faster, which will delight you. Forty large sheets already printed, and £ 160 already spent ! But I can Hve more cheaply here, and save a little, which as yet I have not been able to do. I have not had a piano for a long time ; now I have hired one for 305-. a month. I find my music very useful in society, for they like to hear it, though few people play. Of course I miss Bunsen very much, but who can say how long he will stay in London .? and in these busy times I have seen but little of him. My speech at Oxford is published under the title, “ Three Linguistic Dissertations read at the Meeting of the British Association in Oxford, by Chevalier Bunsen, Dr. INIeyer, and Dr. Max MuUer.” I find it a good visiting card here. It is difficult to say when my first volume will be ready, as the printing is sometimes easy and sometimes very difficult ; but be sure I work as hard as I can, for it is most important for me to get the first part published.’
76 Dean Gaisford [ch. v
To THE Same.
Translation. OxFOVJi, June 28.
‘ I live here so quietly that I often wish I had you all here, safe out
of the trouble and turmoil in Germany. It is the greatest delight to
walk in these gardens, where the old gables and towers peep through
the green trees on all sides. I am asked to dinner nearly every day —
this is at five o’clock in one of the old Colleges. After dinner we have
coffee and tea in the gardens on the grass, and smoke our cigars.
We have a great deal of music, and I get on very well with all these
reverend sirs.’
Peaceful as his life in Oxford was, Max Miiller was too patriotic not to be deeply occupied with the events in his native country, and he writes to Dr. Pauli : —
Translation. June 27, 1848.
‘ One needs earnest and difficult work to keep one quiet. I sup- pose in time one will get accustomed to this new world, but up to now I have not had courage or power even to talk about it : in time the sea-sickness will leave one, and then one can watch the storm carefully and wonder at it. You ought to come to Oxford ; it is the most beautiful city I have ever seen, and one must have seen it to know England. Living is tolerably cheap, and the libraries rich in manuscript treasures. I shall stay here till October, then publish a volume and go to Germany.’
Max Miiller became almost immediately on intimate terms with a number of undergraduates, as well as many younger dons, whilst several of the heads of houses and Professors showed great kindness to the man whom they remembered as reading a paper but the year before at the British Association, on a subject quite unknown to most of them, but which had provoked interesting and important discussions. Dr. Gaisford was particularly condescending to the young scholar, who often mentioned with pleasure the real courtesy of the Dean^ as being the only head of a house who thought it necessary to call before sending him an invitation to dinner.
He has given an amusing account of that visit, and the
attack made on the Dean by his Scotch terrier. Belle. To
the few who still remember those days the name of Belle
will recall many a happy hour. She was a small terrier, by
no means a great beauty, and had belonged to Robert Morier,
who willingly passed her on to his friend, to avoid the trouble
1848] Oxford Friends 77
of looking after her. She lived to a great age, and gave her new master a good deal of occupation in taking care of her and her innumerable puppies. Her devotion made her very- jealous, and when some years after a beautiful Skye puppy was given him by a much-loved friend, Belle ill-treated it so, that he had to part with it to save its life ! Max Muller was always devoted to dogs, and his friends will recollect his great deerhound Oscar, Musk, a Skye terrier, and in later years his well-known dachshunds, Waldmann and Mannerl, and at the very last. Longbow and Big Ben.
Among Max’s intimate friends at this time were Morier, afterwards Sir Robert Morier, who died Ambassador at St. Petersburg ; William Sellar, later on Professor of Latin at Edin- burgh ; Palgrave, to whose advice he owed a great deal when he first began to write English books; William Spottiswoode;
Alexander Grant, who, after many years in India, became Principal of the University of Edinburgh ; Theodore Walrond, afterwards his brother-in-law, and whom for many years he used to call his English conscience ; Earle, later Professor of Anglo-Saxon ; Church, afterwards Dean of St. Paul’s ; George Butler ; ffolliott, who in the last letter he wrote to Max Muller says, ‘ Your friendship has been one of the happiest elements of my life ‘ ; Thomson, of Queen’s, who became Archbishop of York ; Story-Maskelyne, later Professor of Mineralogy ;
Clough, the poet ; Dr. Stanley, then Tutor of University ;
Dr. Acland ; Manuel Johnson, the Radcliffe Observer;
Professor Donkin, drawn to him by their common love of
music ; ‘ Bodley ‘ Coxe ; Jowett, then the popular young Tutor
of Balliol ; and J. A. Froude, of Exeter. To the two last
Max Muller was a staunch friend, standing by them when
their opinions exposed them to a good deal of obloquy and
closed many doors against them. Most of these men
remained Max Miiller’s devoted and intimate friends through
life ; from others, from circumstances of residence and occupa-
tion, he was more or less separated, though when they met
there was always a hearty recollection of the ‘ merry days
when they were young,’ and enjoyed many a joke and many
a discussion in their various rooms, whether in College or in
lodgings. The very few left who remember quite the early
78 Max Muller at Twenty-four [ch. v
years when Max Muller first settled in Oxford, recall his great powers of attraction, his lively conversation, even though in still rather quaint English, his fun, his power of repartee, above all his kindly lovable nature, to which a singularly beautiful countenance bore witness, his brilliant pianoforte-playing, and behind all this a seriousness of purpose, a loftiness of aim, with an amount of general culture seldom met with in a man of little more than twenty-four ; whilst the almost entire ignorance of the great subject to which he was devoting his life only added to their wonder and interest.
Mr. Tuckwell in his delightful Reminiscences says : * I recall the black-haired, slight young foreigner in 1846^ or there- abouts, known first as a pianist in Oxford drawing-rooms, whose inmates ceased their chatter at his brilliant touch.’
To Chevalier Bunsen.
Translation. 17, Walton V-lkcy., June 13, 1848.
‘ ‘Tis hard to carry a full cup even. Oxford is most beautiful, but one longs for German Professors, for Greek societies and seminars !
My Veda gets on; forty-five sheets are printed. I have good news
from India. The Pundits, to whom I sent proof-sheets, are delighted
with the plan and the way it is being carried out. As it does not
seem likely that the Prussian Government will at this moment grant
any money for MSS. from India, I shall apply to the East India
Company. The expense is very small, 1,000 lines of thirty-two
syllables for eight shillings. I think of staying here till my first
volume is ready, which it cannot be before the end of the year, and
then I shall go to Germany. But I must find some further occupa-
tion here, for Sanskrit alone does not yield enough to live on. It is
delightful to reconstruct a chapter in the historical consciousness of
mankind, especially one that is so ancient and so important for the
intellectual migrations of the Aryans as is the Vedic epoch. But
when mankind is at work it requires people who can wield the
hammer in order to forge a new link in the chain of humanity. Only
I don’t know with what hammer I should try to work, but it seems
to me pretty certain that for the next thirty years the Veda and such
literary ruins will find few friends and explorers. For what we now
see is but the prelude to wake and shake the mind, to bring it into
the necessary condition, “ corruptos hominum mores bellis emendare
atque conterere.” ‘
^ 1848 it should be.
i8^8] Commemoration 79
In the following letter to his mother he describes his first Commemoration, little imagining how many more he was to see^ till his own children were enjoying them from thirty to forty years later : —
Tratislaiion. July ii.
‘ There were great festivities for the end of term. Guizot was here, two sons of Metternich, Baron von Hiigel, and many of the best English families, and a crowd of such beautiful women as I have never before seen. The festivities lasted from early dawn till night ; the gardens lighted up, with music and singing, were enchanting. There were good concerts, the Messiah, the Creation, in which Birch, Tadolinde, and Lablache sang ; in fact it was magnificent, and cham- pagne and hock flowed in streams. Now every place is empty.
I have the beautiful gardens to myself, and that is delightful, where
I take a walk of an evening and smoke my cigar ; but it would be yet
better on the Terrace at Dresden I “However “ as the English say,
and I do my best to acquire an Englishman’s patience and indifference.’
The summer was spent quietly in Oxford, working at the Veda and the long Introduction, or Prolegomena, of which we hear more in the following year.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, August 8.
‘ The times are not suited for quiet enjoyment, and who knows when this struggle of the discontented masses will cease .? But when one remembers all the suffering and sorrow, the thousands who are perish- ing from war, disease, and famine, one ought to be contented oneself, and thank God if we escape with a few inconveniences. It sometimes seems to me wrong to be sitting and working here so peacefully in Oxford, whilst so many in Germany are torn away from their scientific employments and must share all the dangers of war. One is not better than all those who die by thousands in battle or of cholera, or who see all their prospects for life ruined in a moment. And yet, surely, all this want and calamity must do some good, by teaching men that they are placed on the earth not for enjoyment but for a struggle and trial : in quieter times one forgets too easily the real earnest task of life, and the true man in us perishes. Now every one must stand fast and be ready for anything. If we do our duty and have a good conscience and trust in God, this little world cannot do us much harm.
I lead a most pleasant life here in Oxford. Many of my friends come
to see me, and live in the same house — Dr. Kollgren from Helsingfors,
Dr. Pauli from Berlin. Then of course I do not get through so much
work — we take long walks, bathe, &c. ; but when they are gone I shall
8o Revolution in Germany [ch. v
be able to work hard again till the first volume is ready. That will not be till Easter, as the first volume will have i,ooo pages, and only 500 are now printed. Everything seems to have quieted down in Dessau : they had not a large aristocracy to put down ! I should like to see for myself how things are, for here one can form but little idea about it.’
The next letter tells of the spread of the revolutionary spirit to Chemnitz, u’here his mother still lived, though no longer in her daughter’s house.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, October 3.
‘ You can imagine my anxiety about you when I read in the papers of the insurrection of the workpeople in Chemnitz, of barricades and fighting in the streets, and remembered how far from strong Auguste is. From day to day 1 looked for a letter, and at last heard from you that you had escaped all danger. We must not complain of small deprivations, but thank God, who has watched over us hitherto with fatherly care. If I know that you are well in Chemnitz, and have always a sure refuge with Krug, and if you know that I am happy and well in Oxford, even if we do not see each other often, we can think of each other with perfect satisfaction ; and how few can say that in these times. One cannot expect things to settle down in Germany for many years. I cannot wish to be back in Germany, however much I long for German life, for one would only be drawn into all these party conflicts, without power to eifect any good. I often think it might be well to settle down entirely in England. I think one might be quite at home and happy here. If I go to Germany next year, I must look about and see what can be done there, and if any prospects open for me ; if not, I must look out for some career that later on would settle me here. I like Oxford so much better than London, that I shall remain here. Life is cheaper here, and I had already saved £20, but have spent it on MSS. from India, which I need for my work. Dr. Pauli is still living here, which is very pleasant, and gives me some one to talk to. Dessau seems to set an example to the world with its liberal institu- tions. What does Stockmarr ^ say to it all ? Uncle Fritz, doubtless, is much amused. I should like to see it with my own eyes ; it sounds a little fabulous ! ‘
Max Miiller seems to have been so m.uch absorbed in the
■^ An old and very conservative General, married to the sister of Max Miiller’s aunt, Frau Prasident von Basedow. The old man lived to keep his Iron Wedding (sixty-five years), and died a few days after, as did his wife, and they were buried the same day.
1848] Nineveh Inscriptions 81
Veda as to let a long time pass without any communication with his revered master, Burnouf, who sent him the following gentle reminder, which shows how even the life of a quiet student was upset by the political disorders of the times : —
Translaiion. Paris, October 7, 1848.
‘ My dear Friend, — It is a long time since I heard anything of you, and enough has happened here to make me forget any one to whom I was less attached than I am to you. But I have heard of you indirectly. I received a few days ago a sign of your remembrance of me, which touched me much ; and I have read your me’moire with delight, and have learnt from it many curious facts of the way in which Bengali has used for its own analytic purposes concrete words borrowed from Sanskrit. The work is well done, and I have observed with great satisfaction, among other things, a virtuous attack on the modernizers of Brahmanism in the interests of Buddhism, which has nothing to gain by outraging history and good sense. I venture to assert that, notwithstanding their pretensions, the dilettante authors of these heteroclite hypotheses understand neither Brahmanism nor Buddhism. I am now working at the second volume of my Introduc- tion to Buddhism, having been obliged to set aside the work I had begun on the Nineveh inscriptions. These researches cannot be carried on usefully in a time of political disturbance, such as the present ; the tempest in the streets distracts the mind. . , . Under these circumstances, I am devoting myself to Buddhism, to occupy my mind ; it is the only one of my labours for which I do not need State aid. Yours heartily, ‘E. Burnouf.’
To this Max Miiller replied : —
9, Park Place, November i, 1848.
‘ My Honoured Master and Friend, — . . . I was very sorry to
learn that the political agitation in France has disturbed your literary
work. Every one felt that the only hope of a successful and scien-
tific deciphering of the Nineveh inscriptions lay with you, for you
stand alone in such work. Yet the second volume of Buddhism
will be a welcome gift to many, to some perhaps not welcome, as it
will destroy their last heteroclite hypotheses. Unfortunately things
look very black for literature in Germany too, and I am glad that
I can give my time here in England quietly to the Veda. The first
Ashtaka, with a long introduction, will appear at Easter. I am
now writing the latter, and I often wish I could go to you for
advice, for here in England there is really no one who takes much
interest in real Indian antiquity. Wilson has finished his History
I G
82 Progress of Rig-veda [ch. v
of British India, which is very much liked, and is at work now on a lexicon of modern Indian names for measures, weights, and other words in daily use between Indians and Englishmen. Besides that he is preparing a catalogue of the MSS. of the East India House, as well as a translation of the Rig-veda. It is wonderful how busy he is, though one often wishes he v/ould devote his valuable time and powers more exclusively to Indian antiquity. ... I have heard nothing of Baron d’Eckstein since the Revolution, and would gladly hear how he is. . . . My time is so taken up with printing the Rig-veda, which has reached page 608, that I have no time for any other work ; for this I am very sorry, for the Commentary is terribly wearisome, and yet full of small difficulties, for which I often miss the help of MSS. from other parts of India. I have therefore ordered for myself a copy from Poonah, where your own valuable MS. was copied, and must await its arrival before I begin the second Ashtaka, as I have no collation of your MS. for that, and the MSS. here of the second Ashtaka are very imperfect. The East India Company has declared itself ready to buy Vedic MSS. if they can get them, so I hope for much new help from India.’
The following letter to Bunsen is the only allusion to a scheme which Max Miiller can hardly have contemplated seriously, though a Pass Degree would have been child’s play to him, and no doubt a hfe in College such as that led by many of his friends must have appeared more attractive than his solitary lodgings : —
Translation. 17, Walton Place, October 8, 1848.
‘ I think of going to London for a few days early next week to do
some work at the East India House. It would be a great delight to
me if I could see you for a few minutes, to ask your advice in a matter
which occupies me a good deal. The revolutions in Germany have
laid such hold on all the circumstances of life, and have so under-
mined the foundations of society, that one loses all courage to build
one’s future on such a soil. Unless one feels the strength and power
to take an active part in initiating and settling matters, but wishes to
find one’s ideal of life in the narrow quiet circle of science, one has
the right, I think, to seek shelter there, where science, if not patronized
and aided, is at least tolerated and let alone. With all my love of
the past, and with a full belief in the future of Germany, I feel more
drawn at present to English than to German soil. My work will keep
me in England for the next few years ; and as Oxford is a very
pleasant place of residence, I have an idea of entering one of the
1848] Thinks of entering College 83
Colleges as an undergraduate, keeping my twelve terms, and then taking my degree. I should hope to defray the expense by my own work, and the competition in the Oriental market is so small, that my prospects later on would probably not be bad. It is, of course, difficult to resolve to take such a backward step, and begin again from the beginning, when my friends and contemporaries have already found their spheres of activity as teachers and Professors. My own studies would meet with many interruptions, but when one sees that the path one has hewn for oneself does not lead to the goal, it is better to turn round than to pursue the wrong road till no return is possible. My work goes on merrily ; seventy-two sheets are printed, and I am writing the preface, which often overwhelms me ; but I have time till Easter, when the first two volumes and the preface will appear. Dr. Pauli is still living with me, but he has a good chance of being appointed to the Advocates’ Library in Edinburgh. In the hope of soon having the happiness of seeing you, I am, with my whole heart, yours obediently.’
We hear no more of the undergraduate scheme, and on his return from London he moved to pleasanter lodgings, No. 9, Park Place, now 18, Banbury Road, where he remained till January, 1856. Here he occupied the front floor, and some other German generally lodged in the same house.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. 9, Park Place, November 5.
‘ I have been staying with Bunsen in London and the country for a week. I was in his house, and we had long talks together, and I came back to my work with fresh courage. He is a delightful, excellent [b]
No doubt there will be many good men of the State there, but few
good statesmen. Everything in Frankfort will depend on how the
first majority is formed, but I don’t believe that any party in Germany,
be it what it may, would have any prospect of influence, if, when
finding itself in a minority, it resorts to violence. Modern history
accustoms itself to look on majorities which have arisen naturally
in the same way as the old world must have originally looked upon
1848] Life in Oxford 75
their “Judgement of God,” but with this diflference, that for the Christian world the Godlike has assumed the form of humanity and freedom, by the side of that of nature and necessity. Life here in Oxford is remarkably pleasant ; the place is so beautiful, and every- body so friendly and good, many people very superior and interesting.
I have not seen much of Stanley, as he is very much occupied ; but
I know many of the Fellows, who pursue the same objects, and with
even more understanding and determination, From many different
sides one hears of a wish for reforms in the life of the University, but
they are afraid of the Government ; and that if they once give it the
opportunity it will interfere far more than they desire. They par-
ticularly dread the tendencies of the Cheap Government, which might
involve them in Cheap Education, and therefore they would rather
remain quiet and keep their own. I have given your pamphlet on
Schleswig to Stanley, Dr. Jacobson, Dr. Plumptre, and Dr. Acland,
and I hear that Dr. Twiss means to write an answer ; the same man
who wrote on the Oregon question. One hopes it may come post
factum, like King Oscar’s troops, though I must own that it would be
wonderful if they could persuade the Holger Danske to listen to
reason and act accordingly.’ ‘
To his mother he describes his new life thus : —
Translation. 17, Walton Place, May 21.
‘ Here I am at last settled in Oxford. I have already told you how beautiful it is, and now in spring it is perfect ; the finest gardens I have ever seen, the old trees and the green velvety turf such as one only sees in England. I am enjoying the spring here as I have not enjoyed it for years, and feel better than I ever felt in hot, dirty, noisy London. I like the people here very much, and my work gets on much faster, which will delight you. Forty large sheets already printed, and £ 160 already spent ! But I can Hve more cheaply here, and save a little, which as yet I have not been able to do. I have not had a piano for a long time ; now I have hired one for 305-. a month. I find my music very useful in society, for they like to hear it, though few people play. Of course I miss Bunsen very much, but who can say how long he will stay in London .? and in these busy times I have seen but little of him. My speech at Oxford is published under the title, “ Three Linguistic Dissertations read at the Meeting of the British Association in Oxford, by Chevalier Bunsen, Dr. INIeyer, and Dr. Max MuUer.” I find it a good visiting card here. It is difficult to say when my first volume will be ready, as the printing is sometimes easy and sometimes very difficult ; but be sure I work as hard as I can, for it is most important for me to get the first part published.’
76 Dean Gaisford [ch. v
To THE Same.
Translation. OxFOVJi, June 28.
‘ I live here so quietly that I often wish I had you all here, safe out
of the trouble and turmoil in Germany. It is the greatest delight to
walk in these gardens, where the old gables and towers peep through
the green trees on all sides. I am asked to dinner nearly every day —
this is at five o’clock in one of the old Colleges. After dinner we have
coffee and tea in the gardens on the grass, and smoke our cigars.
We have a great deal of music, and I get on very well with all these
reverend sirs.’
Peaceful as his life in Oxford was, Max Miiller was too patriotic not to be deeply occupied with the events in his native country, and he writes to Dr. Pauli : —
Translation. June 27, 1848.
‘ One needs earnest and difficult work to keep one quiet. I sup- pose in time one will get accustomed to this new world, but up to now I have not had courage or power even to talk about it : in time the sea-sickness will leave one, and then one can watch the storm carefully and wonder at it. You ought to come to Oxford ; it is the most beautiful city I have ever seen, and one must have seen it to know England. Living is tolerably cheap, and the libraries rich in manuscript treasures. I shall stay here till October, then publish a volume and go to Germany.’
Max Miiller became almost immediately on intimate terms with a number of undergraduates, as well as many younger dons, whilst several of the heads of houses and Professors showed great kindness to the man whom they remembered as reading a paper but the year before at the British Association, on a subject quite unknown to most of them, but which had provoked interesting and important discussions. Dr. Gaisford was particularly condescending to the young scholar, who often mentioned with pleasure the real courtesy of the Dean^ as being the only head of a house who thought it necessary to call before sending him an invitation to dinner.
He has given an amusing account of that visit, and the
attack made on the Dean by his Scotch terrier. Belle. To
the few who still remember those days the name of Belle
will recall many a happy hour. She was a small terrier, by
no means a great beauty, and had belonged to Robert Morier,
who willingly passed her on to his friend, to avoid the trouble
1848] Oxford Friends 77
of looking after her. She lived to a great age, and gave her new master a good deal of occupation in taking care of her and her innumerable puppies. Her devotion made her very- jealous, and when some years after a beautiful Skye puppy was given him by a much-loved friend, Belle ill-treated it so, that he had to part with it to save its life ! Max Muller was always devoted to dogs, and his friends will recollect his great deerhound Oscar, Musk, a Skye terrier, and in later years his well-known dachshunds, Waldmann and Mannerl, and at the very last. Longbow and Big Ben.
Among Max’s intimate friends at this time were Morier, afterwards Sir Robert Morier, who died Ambassador at St. Petersburg ; William Sellar, later on Professor of Latin at Edin- burgh ; Palgrave, to whose advice he owed a great deal when he first began to write English books; William Spottiswoode;
Alexander Grant, who, after many years in India, became Principal of the University of Edinburgh ; Theodore Walrond, afterwards his brother-in-law, and whom for many years he used to call his English conscience ; Earle, later Professor of Anglo-Saxon ; Church, afterwards Dean of St. Paul’s ; George Butler ; ffolliott, who in the last letter he wrote to Max Muller says, ‘ Your friendship has been one of the happiest elements of my life ‘ ; Thomson, of Queen’s, who became Archbishop of York ; Story-Maskelyne, later Professor of Mineralogy ;
Clough, the poet ; Dr. Stanley, then Tutor of University ;
Dr. Acland ; Manuel Johnson, the Radcliffe Observer;
Professor Donkin, drawn to him by their common love of
music ; ‘ Bodley ‘ Coxe ; Jowett, then the popular young Tutor
of Balliol ; and J. A. Froude, of Exeter. To the two last
Max Muller was a staunch friend, standing by them when
their opinions exposed them to a good deal of obloquy and
closed many doors against them. Most of these men
remained Max Miiller’s devoted and intimate friends through
life ; from others, from circumstances of residence and occupa-
tion, he was more or less separated, though when they met
there was always a hearty recollection of the ‘ merry days
when they were young,’ and enjoyed many a joke and many
a discussion in their various rooms, whether in College or in
lodgings. The very few left who remember quite the early
78 Max Muller at Twenty-four [ch. v
years when Max Muller first settled in Oxford, recall his great powers of attraction, his lively conversation, even though in still rather quaint English, his fun, his power of repartee, above all his kindly lovable nature, to which a singularly beautiful countenance bore witness, his brilliant pianoforte-playing, and behind all this a seriousness of purpose, a loftiness of aim, with an amount of general culture seldom met with in a man of little more than twenty-four ; whilst the almost entire ignorance of the great subject to which he was devoting his life only added to their wonder and interest.
Mr. Tuckwell in his delightful Reminiscences says : * I recall the black-haired, slight young foreigner in 1846^ or there- abouts, known first as a pianist in Oxford drawing-rooms, whose inmates ceased their chatter at his brilliant touch.’
To Chevalier Bunsen.
Translation. 17, Walton V-lkcy., June 13, 1848.
‘ ‘Tis hard to carry a full cup even. Oxford is most beautiful, but one longs for German Professors, for Greek societies and seminars !
My Veda gets on; forty-five sheets are printed. I have good news
from India. The Pundits, to whom I sent proof-sheets, are delighted
with the plan and the way it is being carried out. As it does not
seem likely that the Prussian Government will at this moment grant
any money for MSS. from India, I shall apply to the East India
Company. The expense is very small, 1,000 lines of thirty-two
syllables for eight shillings. I think of staying here till my first
volume is ready, which it cannot be before the end of the year, and
then I shall go to Germany. But I must find some further occupa-
tion here, for Sanskrit alone does not yield enough to live on. It is
delightful to reconstruct a chapter in the historical consciousness of
mankind, especially one that is so ancient and so important for the
intellectual migrations of the Aryans as is the Vedic epoch. But
when mankind is at work it requires people who can wield the
hammer in order to forge a new link in the chain of humanity. Only
I don’t know with what hammer I should try to work, but it seems
to me pretty certain that for the next thirty years the Veda and such
literary ruins will find few friends and explorers. For what we now
see is but the prelude to wake and shake the mind, to bring it into
the necessary condition, “ corruptos hominum mores bellis emendare
atque conterere.” ‘
^ 1848 it should be.
i8^8] Commemoration 79
In the following letter to his mother he describes his first Commemoration, little imagining how many more he was to see^ till his own children were enjoying them from thirty to forty years later : —
Tratislaiion. July ii.
‘ There were great festivities for the end of term. Guizot was here, two sons of Metternich, Baron von Hiigel, and many of the best English families, and a crowd of such beautiful women as I have never before seen. The festivities lasted from early dawn till night ; the gardens lighted up, with music and singing, were enchanting. There were good concerts, the Messiah, the Creation, in which Birch, Tadolinde, and Lablache sang ; in fact it was magnificent, and cham- pagne and hock flowed in streams. Now every place is empty.
I have the beautiful gardens to myself, and that is delightful, where
I take a walk of an evening and smoke my cigar ; but it would be yet
better on the Terrace at Dresden I “However “ as the English say,
and I do my best to acquire an Englishman’s patience and indifference.’
The summer was spent quietly in Oxford, working at the Veda and the long Introduction, or Prolegomena, of which we hear more in the following year.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, August 8.
‘ The times are not suited for quiet enjoyment, and who knows when this struggle of the discontented masses will cease .? But when one remembers all the suffering and sorrow, the thousands who are perish- ing from war, disease, and famine, one ought to be contented oneself, and thank God if we escape with a few inconveniences. It sometimes seems to me wrong to be sitting and working here so peacefully in Oxford, whilst so many in Germany are torn away from their scientific employments and must share all the dangers of war. One is not better than all those who die by thousands in battle or of cholera, or who see all their prospects for life ruined in a moment. And yet, surely, all this want and calamity must do some good, by teaching men that they are placed on the earth not for enjoyment but for a struggle and trial : in quieter times one forgets too easily the real earnest task of life, and the true man in us perishes. Now every one must stand fast and be ready for anything. If we do our duty and have a good conscience and trust in God, this little world cannot do us much harm.
I lead a most pleasant life here in Oxford. Many of my friends come
to see me, and live in the same house — Dr. Kollgren from Helsingfors,
Dr. Pauli from Berlin. Then of course I do not get through so much
work — we take long walks, bathe, &c. ; but when they are gone I shall
8o Revolution in Germany [ch. v
be able to work hard again till the first volume is ready. That will not be till Easter, as the first volume will have i,ooo pages, and only 500 are now printed. Everything seems to have quieted down in Dessau : they had not a large aristocracy to put down ! I should like to see for myself how things are, for here one can form but little idea about it.’
The next letter tells of the spread of the revolutionary spirit to Chemnitz, u’here his mother still lived, though no longer in her daughter’s house.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, October 3.
‘ You can imagine my anxiety about you when I read in the papers of the insurrection of the workpeople in Chemnitz, of barricades and fighting in the streets, and remembered how far from strong Auguste is. From day to day 1 looked for a letter, and at last heard from you that you had escaped all danger. We must not complain of small deprivations, but thank God, who has watched over us hitherto with fatherly care. If I know that you are well in Chemnitz, and have always a sure refuge with Krug, and if you know that I am happy and well in Oxford, even if we do not see each other often, we can think of each other with perfect satisfaction ; and how few can say that in these times. One cannot expect things to settle down in Germany for many years. I cannot wish to be back in Germany, however much I long for German life, for one would only be drawn into all these party conflicts, without power to eifect any good. I often think it might be well to settle down entirely in England. I think one might be quite at home and happy here. If I go to Germany next year, I must look about and see what can be done there, and if any prospects open for me ; if not, I must look out for some career that later on would settle me here. I like Oxford so much better than London, that I shall remain here. Life is cheaper here, and I had already saved £20, but have spent it on MSS. from India, which I need for my work. Dr. Pauli is still living here, which is very pleasant, and gives me some one to talk to. Dessau seems to set an example to the world with its liberal institu- tions. What does Stockmarr ^ say to it all ? Uncle Fritz, doubtless, is much amused. I should like to see it with my own eyes ; it sounds a little fabulous ! ‘
Max Miiller seems to have been so m.uch absorbed in the
■^ An old and very conservative General, married to the sister of Max Miiller’s aunt, Frau Prasident von Basedow. The old man lived to keep his Iron Wedding (sixty-five years), and died a few days after, as did his wife, and they were buried the same day.
1848] Nineveh Inscriptions 81
Veda as to let a long time pass without any communication with his revered master, Burnouf, who sent him the following gentle reminder, which shows how even the life of a quiet student was upset by the political disorders of the times : —
Translaiion. Paris, October 7, 1848.
‘ My dear Friend, — It is a long time since I heard anything of you, and enough has happened here to make me forget any one to whom I was less attached than I am to you. But I have heard of you indirectly. I received a few days ago a sign of your remembrance of me, which touched me much ; and I have read your me’moire with delight, and have learnt from it many curious facts of the way in which Bengali has used for its own analytic purposes concrete words borrowed from Sanskrit. The work is well done, and I have observed with great satisfaction, among other things, a virtuous attack on the modernizers of Brahmanism in the interests of Buddhism, which has nothing to gain by outraging history and good sense. I venture to assert that, notwithstanding their pretensions, the dilettante authors of these heteroclite hypotheses understand neither Brahmanism nor Buddhism. I am now working at the second volume of my Introduc- tion to Buddhism, having been obliged to set aside the work I had begun on the Nineveh inscriptions. These researches cannot be carried on usefully in a time of political disturbance, such as the present ; the tempest in the streets distracts the mind. . , . Under these circumstances, I am devoting myself to Buddhism, to occupy my mind ; it is the only one of my labours for which I do not need State aid. Yours heartily, ‘E. Burnouf.’
To this Max Miiller replied : —
9, Park Place, November i, 1848.
‘ My Honoured Master and Friend, — . . . I was very sorry to
learn that the political agitation in France has disturbed your literary
work. Every one felt that the only hope of a successful and scien-
tific deciphering of the Nineveh inscriptions lay with you, for you
stand alone in such work. Yet the second volume of Buddhism
will be a welcome gift to many, to some perhaps not welcome, as it
will destroy their last heteroclite hypotheses. Unfortunately things
look very black for literature in Germany too, and I am glad that
I can give my time here in England quietly to the Veda. The first
Ashtaka, with a long introduction, will appear at Easter. I am
now writing the latter, and I often wish I could go to you for
advice, for here in England there is really no one who takes much
interest in real Indian antiquity. Wilson has finished his History
I G
82 Progress of Rig-veda [ch. v
of British India, which is very much liked, and is at work now on a lexicon of modern Indian names for measures, weights, and other words in daily use between Indians and Englishmen. Besides that he is preparing a catalogue of the MSS. of the East India House, as well as a translation of the Rig-veda. It is wonderful how busy he is, though one often wishes he v/ould devote his valuable time and powers more exclusively to Indian antiquity. ... I have heard nothing of Baron d’Eckstein since the Revolution, and would gladly hear how he is. . . . My time is so taken up with printing the Rig-veda, which has reached page 608, that I have no time for any other work ; for this I am very sorry, for the Commentary is terribly wearisome, and yet full of small difficulties, for which I often miss the help of MSS. from other parts of India. I have therefore ordered for myself a copy from Poonah, where your own valuable MS. was copied, and must await its arrival before I begin the second Ashtaka, as I have no collation of your MS. for that, and the MSS. here of the second Ashtaka are very imperfect. The East India Company has declared itself ready to buy Vedic MSS. if they can get them, so I hope for much new help from India.’
The following letter to Bunsen is the only allusion to a scheme which Max Miiller can hardly have contemplated seriously, though a Pass Degree would have been child’s play to him, and no doubt a hfe in College such as that led by many of his friends must have appeared more attractive than his solitary lodgings : —
Translation. 17, Walton Place, October 8, 1848.
‘ I think of going to London for a few days early next week to do
some work at the East India House. It would be a great delight to
me if I could see you for a few minutes, to ask your advice in a matter
which occupies me a good deal. The revolutions in Germany have
laid such hold on all the circumstances of life, and have so under-
mined the foundations of society, that one loses all courage to build
one’s future on such a soil. Unless one feels the strength and power
to take an active part in initiating and settling matters, but wishes to
find one’s ideal of life in the narrow quiet circle of science, one has
the right, I think, to seek shelter there, where science, if not patronized
and aided, is at least tolerated and let alone. With all my love of
the past, and with a full belief in the future of Germany, I feel more
drawn at present to English than to German soil. My work will keep
me in England for the next few years ; and as Oxford is a very
pleasant place of residence, I have an idea of entering one of the
1848] Thinks of entering College 83
Colleges as an undergraduate, keeping my twelve terms, and then taking my degree. I should hope to defray the expense by my own work, and the competition in the Oriental market is so small, that my prospects later on would probably not be bad. It is, of course, difficult to resolve to take such a backward step, and begin again from the beginning, when my friends and contemporaries have already found their spheres of activity as teachers and Professors. My own studies would meet with many interruptions, but when one sees that the path one has hewn for oneself does not lead to the goal, it is better to turn round than to pursue the wrong road till no return is possible. My work goes on merrily ; seventy-two sheets are printed, and I am writing the preface, which often overwhelms me ; but I have time till Easter, when the first two volumes and the preface will appear. Dr. Pauli is still living with me, but he has a good chance of being appointed to the Advocates’ Library in Edinburgh. In the hope of soon having the happiness of seeing you, I am, with my whole heart, yours obediently.’
We hear no more of the undergraduate scheme, and on his return from London he moved to pleasanter lodgings, No. 9, Park Place, now 18, Banbury Road, where he remained till January, 1856. Here he occupied the front floor, and some other German generally lodged in the same house.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. 9, Park Place, November 5.
‘ I have been staying with Bunsen in London and the country for a week. I was in his house, and we had long talks together, and I came back to my work with fresh courage. He is a delightful, excellent [b]
Re: ஆரியர்கள் இந்தியர்களே அது பற்றி சில கருத்துக்கள்
man, so that it is a real refreshment to see him. He is so quiet, so contented, and so confident, although living in the very midst of all the troubles ; he trusts mainly to Frankfort, and his whole soul is with Germany. When I returned to Oxford I changed my lodgings. If I could afford it I should take riding lessons. Every morning crowds of students pass by in their red coats and jockey caps going out hunting ; but that is very dear, so I never think of it, but work on quietly at the Veda^ and when Volume I is finished, I shall pack up and be off; 620 pages are finished. It has been a hard piece of work. I have no desire to join the Dessau mihtia. I would rather become a naturalized EngHshman. The news from Vienna is terrible, one can hardly believe it, and in Berlin it is fermenting and seething as if for something of the same sort.’
On his birthday he writes to her again : —
G %
84 Jenny Lind [ch. v
Translation. Oxford, December 6, 1848.
‘ Twenty-five years, an age that might make one sad, but we are all well and happy ; though my life in a foreign country often seems too long, and I should like to get away ; but it can’t be helped, one must work to live, and work where one finds v/ork. I am quite content with mine. Of course, if one could find work in Germany instead of here, and live at one of the Universities on the Rhine, at Bonn or Heidelberg, one might enjoy life more. That will come some day, and then we can live happily together and drink a good glass of Rhine wine. Hurrah ! If only the Veda were not so long 1 The old Indians 3,000 years ago might have written less; 1,000 quarto pages. But work agrees with me, and I take long walks, and the life is, on the whole, very pleasant, and yet one feels as if one hardly belonged to it ; people are too polite for one to feel quite at one’s ease. Do you know I would willingly take the post of Librarian at Dessau if it were free ? I could carry on my work there, and in these troublous times, the more retired one’s life, the safer and happier for one. But those are only plans, and one must be satisfied to be independent and able to earn one’s daily bread ; and it is better in these days to be a bachelor, in spite of ail the good advice you give me from time to time — rich heiresses are not so plentiful, even in England. Last week Jenny Lind sang here in a concert. I had never heard her, and paid my ten shillings, which I do not regret. She sings wonderfully, has a full, strong, rich voice, but there was a want of softness. She sang Italian songs, and Weber’s Und ob die Wolke, which she sang most beautifully, and showed a real love of her art. Her Swedish songs are lovely, so original. I longed to hear her sing some of Mendelssohn’s songs; but she had to think of her public, and the John Bulls have little knowledge of music. She said after- wards to a friend of mine, that she considered Mendelssohn’s Suleika the most beautiful song she knew, and she loved to sing it. The people here were wild about her, perfectly enchanted; but when Beethoven’s Septette was played as a finale, they mostly went away ; perfect barbarians ! And yet they are good honest people, with whom it is easy to live when one understands them, I get on very well with John Bull, and he does not mind when I sometimes take him by the horns and shake him.’
To Bunsen he writes the same day : —
Translation. December 6, 1848.
‘You will have perhaps already seen in the paper the delightful
news of Trithen’s appointment as Professor here. I am as pleased as
1848] Trithen made Professor 85
if I had got it myself, for it was perhaps the only way of making
a good useful man of him, after all the disappointments which of
late weighed more and more on him. Though I had myself thought
of this place, and had perhaps better chances than Trithen, I feel
I have acted rightly, perhaps calculated rightly; for had Trithen
divided votes with me, most probably a third candidate would have
appeared, whereas now Trithen was almost unanimously elected. I hope
something of the same sort may be found for Pauli, for I have begged
Trithen to do all he can to get the Secretaryship of the Geographical
Society for him, which Trithen must give up. So one helps another,
and if one only desires what is right, one feels happy and at home in
that united and ever-mysterious concatenation of results and circum-
stances which constitute human life. Twenty-five years of this life lie
behind me to-day, and one feels involuntarily in a more earnest and
solemn frame of mind at such a moment. I look back with gratitude
on the first half of my life, which, notwithstanding many sad moments,
leaves me with the memory of a happy youth, and which at the same
time, after many struggles, has given me a firm faith in a Divine
Providence, trust in mankind and peace in myself, and cheerful
courage to begin the second half of my life. If it is hard to give up
all the plans and hopes which might have been realized in better
times, still life is worth living, be it but a life of duty. God will help
me further. Only continue your sympathy and kindness to me. It
will be my endeavour to show myself worthy of them.*
To this Bunsen sent the following beautiful answer, which is the first of the letters printed by permission of Baroness Bunsen in Chips ^ Vol. Ill, first edition. Being out of print it is given here : —
Translation. London, December 7, 1848.
‘My dear M., — 1 have this moment received your affectionate note
of yesterday, and feel as if I must respond to it directly, as one would
respond to a friend’s shake of the hand. . . . And now, my very dear
M., I congratulate you on the courageous frame of mind which this
event causes you to evince ^ It is exactly that which, as a friend,
I wish for you for the whole of life, and which I perceived and loved
in you from the very first moment. It delights me especially at this
time, vAi^xi your contemporaries are even more dark and confused than
mi7ie are sluggish and old-fashioned. The reality of life, as we enter
the period of full manhood, destroys the first dream of youth; but
■with moral earnestness, and genuine faith in eternal Providence, and in
• Trithen’s election to Taylorian Professorship.
86 Christmas at T otter idge
the sacredness of human destiny in that government of the world which exists for all human souls that honestly seek after good — with these feelings the dream of youth is more than realized. You have undertaken a great work, and have been rescued from the whirlpool and landed on this peaceful island that you might carry it on undisturbed, which you could not have done in the Fatherland. This is the first consideration, but not less highly do I rate the circumstances which have kept you here, and have given you an opportunity of seeing English life in its real strength, with the consistency and stability, and with all the energy and simplicity that are its distinguishing features. I have known what it is to receive this complement of German life in the years of my training and apprenticeship. When rightly estimated this knowledge and love of the English element only strengthens the love of the German Fatherland, the home of genius and poetry. I will only add that I am longing to see you amongst us ; you must come to us before long. Meanwhile think of me with as much affection as I shall always think of you.’
Max Miiller spent Christmas with his kind friends at Totteridge, but the large and merry family party did not quite make up for the distance from his own relations, and when sending his mother a little money, which he exhorts her to spend and not hoard up, he adds, ‘ The day will come that we shall again be all together — only patience — in time all will come right.’
CHAPTER VI
1849
Death of sister’s children. Froude. Visit to Lakes. Prix Volney.
Publication of first volume of Rig-veda. Carus. Visit to Germany.
Max Muller returned from his Christmas at Totteridge and three days alone in London with Bunsen with renewed health and courage for his work, resolved that, whatever effort it cost him, this year should see the publication of the first volume of the Rig-veda. Not only the East India Company, but Sanskrit scholars abroad were getting impatient for a first instalment of his great work ; all but Burnouf forgetting the labour and time involved in contending single-handed with such a task. His old master, Brockhaus, wrote to him from Leipzig, urging him to publish some part at once : ‘ You must have printed a good deal ; why leave us so long in suspense ?
Pending your edition, all Vedic studies remain vague and
unsettled.’ But unmoved by such complaints Max MUller
pursued his own course, determined that his work should not
be injured by hurry or carelessness. He tells his mother that
he hardly gives himself the time to write her his usual
monthly letter, ‘ I do nothing but work at the VedaJ
On his return Max found his old Paris friend, Dr. Pauli, who later on became Bunsen’s private secretary, settled in Oxford, in the same house in which he himself lodged ; so that although it was vacation, and Oxford was nearly empty, he had pleasant companionship. A very intimate friendship sprung up between the two, and their letters show on what easy terms they were with each other ; and though their different lines of study drew them apart, they had the deepest affection for each other to the last. Dr. Pauli died in 1882.
88 Diary [ch. vi
At this time, Max Miiller made an attempt to take up his Diary again, in which he had written nothing for four years. This attempt lasted about a week, and the habit was never resumed, except for a short time in 1857.
Diary, 1849.
Translalion. Jaiiuary 6.
‘ What a pause ! By mere chance I found this book to-day, and as I read it can hardly believe I wrote it ! Four years are gone, perhaps the most important of my life ; well I remember them, though I have not written them down. But such short notices are interesting in later years, and so I will begin again. I conquered Hagedorn, have learnt of Goldstiicker and Trithen, and stand well with Bunsen ;
688 pages of the Veda are printed, and my way tolerably clear. To-day I received the news of G. Hermann’s death ; Letronne, too, died lately ; where are their successors ? I would gladly have seen old Hermann again; he was so brave, and noble, and free — a real Greek, and yet a German, with his small bright eyes. He has not lived in vain 1 Now for politics, but where to begin ? In Germany all is tottering, and only kept up by bayonets. The King is frightened at the Imperial Crown. If Bunsen only stays quietly in England ! He is to-day with the Queen; one hopes it is not to take leave.
Stockmar, too, is there ; I have seen his picture, quiet and clever ;
he influences Bunsen, who, however, makes use of him. Now
vacation in Oxford. I worked bravely since I spent Christmas with
Bunsen. This evening at a horrible party with in College.
Ugly men and women, bad music ; escaped with Pauli and Seliar, and smoked cigars in Balliol with Weatherly.’
January 7.
‘ A real English Sunday, which produces a certain dullness even in one’s work. Read proof-sheets, and studied Lepsius’s (Egyptian) Chronology without much effect. There are no clear results there as yet, though many clever hypotheses and difficulties. There is so litde in Egypt to warm one ! Walked with Seliar, dined with Weatherly, who had an evening party; on the whole pleasant, but not remarkable, so that men took to horse-play ; that seldom happens in Germany. Bunsen has gone to Berlin, ostensibly to be instructed on the German question, but one hopes that his letters, which he let me read in Totteridge, have had an effect, and his presence may do more — unfortunately only for the moment — in the highest circles : may he come back safely 1 Pity that he is a diplomatist, or that the world wants such clever men.’
1849] Prix Volney 89
To Bunsen he writes on January 24 : —
Translation.
• If you are really going to exchange beautiful Totteridge for the dusty Wilhelmstrasse, I am sure England will soon become strange to me. You may laugh, but pray believe that the thought of you is so closely united with my whole thoughts and wishes, however seldom I venture to intrude upon you, that I cannot accustom myself to the idea of living so entirely separated from you.’
On January 29 we find Max Miiller writing to Burnouf to inquire about the Prix Volney, a prize founded by Volney for the best work on language, written in any language during the year, and sent in for competition. He asks if his paper on the relation of Bengali to the other Indian languages, read before the British Association, was of sufficient importance to have any chance of winning the prize. Burnouf had noticed the little article very favourably in the Journal Asiatique. Max Miiller ends his letter thus : —
• The printing of the Rig-veda goes on very slowly, and yet I give up nearly all the day to it, and often the night also. Ninety sheets are printed, up to half of the sixth Adhyaya, but I have undertaken a little too much, and I find I have not much time to study for myself, and arrange in some sort the results of my researches, I shall have to be content with presenting only the materials to the learned world, and all I wish is that they may find the text of my edition correct according to the MSS., and that others who are more worthy, and more skilful than I am for discoveries in the highest philology, may draw the inferences. In any case the mines of the Rig-veda are not the mines of California ; the grains of gold are not to be found so near the surface that the pipilakas’ can find them without any effort. It is for me to act as miner and for others to sift the ore; for it is given to few persons to do both, as you have done for the Zend-Avesta.’
But occupied as he was with his work, his longing for home
and German life is constantly shown in his letters to his
mother ; and in one of them, in utter weariness of spirit, he
writes of Oxford as * the most tedious place in the whole of
tedious England.’ One pleasant prospect he had this summer ;
he had found occupation for his old friend Victor Cams as
^ Gold-finding ants in the Mahdbhdrata,
90 J. A. Froude [ch. vi
assistant to Dr. Acland, and the letters to his mother are full of happy anticipations of his arrival.
On February 9 Burnouf answered Max Muller’s inquiries about the Volney Prize. On consideration his honoured master evidently thought the treatise too short for the Volney competition, and that being printed with Bunsen’s and Meyer’s much longer papers might also be a disadvantage. ‘ Men are so made,’ says Burnouf, ‘ that size and bulk impose even on the most enlightened people. You have plenty of time to decide, and I hope you are convinced that if you compete your work will find a zealous advocate in me. I am so occu- pied with all the troubles in which we live, that I have become sadly and uselessly idle, and my health suffers. I owe the Revolution a disease of the heart. Receive the assurance of my lasting friendship.’
This year began Max Muller’s great intimacy with J. A. Froude, which continued till the death of the latter in the autumn of 1894. On the publication of the Nemesis of Faith early in this year, and the consequent loss of his Fellowship, Max Miiller was one of the few people in Oxford who stood by Mr. Froude and took a deep and active interest in his future plans of life. A remarkable letter from Bunsen on the subject will be found in the third volume of Chips (first edition). The following letter is in response to this : —
Translation. 9, Park Place, May 9, 1849.
‘ Froude has asked me to tell you that he will be in London in the course of a few days, and that his great wish is to see and talk with you. It would be very sad if talents such as Froude’s fell into the hands of English Radicals, Chartists, and Unitarians, who are already opening their arms for him. You will see that Froude, on the contrary, has all the best elements of the High Church party in him, that the unity of the Christian Church is his ideal, for which he would sacrifice as much as a German for the unity of Germany. I am quite con- vinced that the regeneration of the English Church can only come from the High Church party. It alone has influence, and the respect of the English people, and possesses the best intellectual power.
Newmanism is now taking a direction of which formerly one had no
idea, and which with all its bad motives must produce, nolens volens,
the finest effect. In order to prove the necessity of belief in authority,
men forget, to a certain degree, the danger of the use of the sacred
1849] Death of Sister s Children 91
writings, their contradictions and difficulties with regard to chronology, astronomy, and geology. “ Give me the Bible,” said Socinius, “ and I will prove all my heresies.” Ewald’s name is constantly mentioned here ; he has proved as a grammarian that the five books of Moses were not written by Moses, thus destroying the theory of inspiration, and faith demands new guarantees. This the old Fathers foresaw, and therefore kept the Bible from the people. . . . Whence then come all the difficult passages in the Bible? Because with your idiotic theological grammarians, you cannot enter into the language of the Bible. Where is there anything in the Bible of your inspiration a la Houdi7i V It is not the language, but the spirit of the Bible which has become strange to us. . . . Newmanism was originally natural and honest in the Enghsh Church. The soil and air spoils it and incKnes it to Romanism, but even this spoiling must work for good, and bring the English Church into a state of fermentation out of which she will come purified and reformed. Mere transference and translating of German works would never have any influence in England, but if men like Froude, who know the English nation, could show the practical results of German investigations and give them to the people not as a foreign, but as a native product, it might be possible for England to complete its reformation. There are people who believe as little in English mental power as in German marine power, but I have seen so many excellent gunboats launched here, and think that one might risk an Eckenforde^. Froude is already more of a litde steamship, that need not fear the salt water, but he wants more ballast, and that he must fetch from Germany, or he will suffer ship- wreck. Vise his passport for a German port, where, spite of all storms, there is less danger than on the Dead Sea.’
Whilst working hard and almost entirely absorbed in the Veda, his thoughts were unexpectedly turned into another channel by the almost sudden death of two of his sister’s children within three weeks of each other. The devoted young mother never really recovered from this sorrow.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, April ^, 1849.
‘ The news of the death of my little godson was wholly unexpected, and filled me with sorrow, especially for poor Auguste, who, doubtless, feels this first loss deeply ; but if the poor Kttle fellow was so weakly, it is a blessing that God called him back so quickly to Himself.
^ A great conjurer.
• An engagement in the Danish-Prussian War, 1849.
92 Death of Children [ch. vi
I know that it is useless to look for comfort in such thoughts, or that
they lessen the grief and pain. Nor should they, for sorrow is neces- \
sary and good for men ; one learns to understand that each joy must”\
be indemnified by suffering, that each new tie which knits our hearts i
to this life must be loosed again, and the tighter and the closer it was
knit, the keener the pain of loosening it. Should we then attach ^^
our hearts to nothing, and pass quietly and unsympathetically through j
this world, as if we had nothing to do with it ? We neither could nor i
ought to act so. Nature itself knits the first tie between parents and |
children, and new ties through our whole life. We are not here for |
reward, for the enjoyment of undisturbed peace, or from mere !
[b]
On his birthday he writes to her again : —
G %
84 Jenny Lind [ch. v
Translation. Oxford, December 6, 1848.
‘ Twenty-five years, an age that might make one sad, but we are all well and happy ; though my life in a foreign country often seems too long, and I should like to get away ; but it can’t be helped, one must work to live, and work where one finds v/ork. I am quite content with mine. Of course, if one could find work in Germany instead of here, and live at one of the Universities on the Rhine, at Bonn or Heidelberg, one might enjoy life more. That will come some day, and then we can live happily together and drink a good glass of Rhine wine. Hurrah ! If only the Veda were not so long 1 The old Indians 3,000 years ago might have written less; 1,000 quarto pages. But work agrees with me, and I take long walks, and the life is, on the whole, very pleasant, and yet one feels as if one hardly belonged to it ; people are too polite for one to feel quite at one’s ease. Do you know I would willingly take the post of Librarian at Dessau if it were free ? I could carry on my work there, and in these troublous times, the more retired one’s life, the safer and happier for one. But those are only plans, and one must be satisfied to be independent and able to earn one’s daily bread ; and it is better in these days to be a bachelor, in spite of ail the good advice you give me from time to time — rich heiresses are not so plentiful, even in England. Last week Jenny Lind sang here in a concert. I had never heard her, and paid my ten shillings, which I do not regret. She sings wonderfully, has a full, strong, rich voice, but there was a want of softness. She sang Italian songs, and Weber’s Und ob die Wolke, which she sang most beautifully, and showed a real love of her art. Her Swedish songs are lovely, so original. I longed to hear her sing some of Mendelssohn’s songs; but she had to think of her public, and the John Bulls have little knowledge of music. She said after- wards to a friend of mine, that she considered Mendelssohn’s Suleika the most beautiful song she knew, and she loved to sing it. The people here were wild about her, perfectly enchanted; but when Beethoven’s Septette was played as a finale, they mostly went away ; perfect barbarians ! And yet they are good honest people, with whom it is easy to live when one understands them, I get on very well with John Bull, and he does not mind when I sometimes take him by the horns and shake him.’
To Bunsen he writes the same day : —
Translation. December 6, 1848.
‘You will have perhaps already seen in the paper the delightful
news of Trithen’s appointment as Professor here. I am as pleased as
1848] Trithen made Professor 85
if I had got it myself, for it was perhaps the only way of making
a good useful man of him, after all the disappointments which of
late weighed more and more on him. Though I had myself thought
of this place, and had perhaps better chances than Trithen, I feel
I have acted rightly, perhaps calculated rightly; for had Trithen
divided votes with me, most probably a third candidate would have
appeared, whereas now Trithen was almost unanimously elected. I hope
something of the same sort may be found for Pauli, for I have begged
Trithen to do all he can to get the Secretaryship of the Geographical
Society for him, which Trithen must give up. So one helps another,
and if one only desires what is right, one feels happy and at home in
that united and ever-mysterious concatenation of results and circum-
stances which constitute human life. Twenty-five years of this life lie
behind me to-day, and one feels involuntarily in a more earnest and
solemn frame of mind at such a moment. I look back with gratitude
on the first half of my life, which, notwithstanding many sad moments,
leaves me with the memory of a happy youth, and which at the same
time, after many struggles, has given me a firm faith in a Divine
Providence, trust in mankind and peace in myself, and cheerful
courage to begin the second half of my life. If it is hard to give up
all the plans and hopes which might have been realized in better
times, still life is worth living, be it but a life of duty. God will help
me further. Only continue your sympathy and kindness to me. It
will be my endeavour to show myself worthy of them.*
To this Bunsen sent the following beautiful answer, which is the first of the letters printed by permission of Baroness Bunsen in Chips ^ Vol. Ill, first edition. Being out of print it is given here : —
Translation. London, December 7, 1848.
‘My dear M., — 1 have this moment received your affectionate note
of yesterday, and feel as if I must respond to it directly, as one would
respond to a friend’s shake of the hand. . . . And now, my very dear
M., I congratulate you on the courageous frame of mind which this
event causes you to evince ^ It is exactly that which, as a friend,
I wish for you for the whole of life, and which I perceived and loved
in you from the very first moment. It delights me especially at this
time, vAi^xi your contemporaries are even more dark and confused than
mi7ie are sluggish and old-fashioned. The reality of life, as we enter
the period of full manhood, destroys the first dream of youth; but
■with moral earnestness, and genuine faith in eternal Providence, and in
• Trithen’s election to Taylorian Professorship.
86 Christmas at T otter idge
the sacredness of human destiny in that government of the world which exists for all human souls that honestly seek after good — with these feelings the dream of youth is more than realized. You have undertaken a great work, and have been rescued from the whirlpool and landed on this peaceful island that you might carry it on undisturbed, which you could not have done in the Fatherland. This is the first consideration, but not less highly do I rate the circumstances which have kept you here, and have given you an opportunity of seeing English life in its real strength, with the consistency and stability, and with all the energy and simplicity that are its distinguishing features. I have known what it is to receive this complement of German life in the years of my training and apprenticeship. When rightly estimated this knowledge and love of the English element only strengthens the love of the German Fatherland, the home of genius and poetry. I will only add that I am longing to see you amongst us ; you must come to us before long. Meanwhile think of me with as much affection as I shall always think of you.’
Max Miiller spent Christmas with his kind friends at Totteridge, but the large and merry family party did not quite make up for the distance from his own relations, and when sending his mother a little money, which he exhorts her to spend and not hoard up, he adds, ‘ The day will come that we shall again be all together — only patience — in time all will come right.’
CHAPTER VI
1849
Death of sister’s children. Froude. Visit to Lakes. Prix Volney.
Publication of first volume of Rig-veda. Carus. Visit to Germany.
Max Muller returned from his Christmas at Totteridge and three days alone in London with Bunsen with renewed health and courage for his work, resolved that, whatever effort it cost him, this year should see the publication of the first volume of the Rig-veda. Not only the East India Company, but Sanskrit scholars abroad were getting impatient for a first instalment of his great work ; all but Burnouf forgetting the labour and time involved in contending single-handed with such a task. His old master, Brockhaus, wrote to him from Leipzig, urging him to publish some part at once : ‘ You must have printed a good deal ; why leave us so long in suspense ?
Pending your edition, all Vedic studies remain vague and
unsettled.’ But unmoved by such complaints Max MUller
pursued his own course, determined that his work should not
be injured by hurry or carelessness. He tells his mother that
he hardly gives himself the time to write her his usual
monthly letter, ‘ I do nothing but work at the VedaJ
On his return Max found his old Paris friend, Dr. Pauli, who later on became Bunsen’s private secretary, settled in Oxford, in the same house in which he himself lodged ; so that although it was vacation, and Oxford was nearly empty, he had pleasant companionship. A very intimate friendship sprung up between the two, and their letters show on what easy terms they were with each other ; and though their different lines of study drew them apart, they had the deepest affection for each other to the last. Dr. Pauli died in 1882.
88 Diary [ch. vi
At this time, Max Miiller made an attempt to take up his Diary again, in which he had written nothing for four years. This attempt lasted about a week, and the habit was never resumed, except for a short time in 1857.
Diary, 1849.
Translalion. Jaiiuary 6.
‘ What a pause ! By mere chance I found this book to-day, and as I read it can hardly believe I wrote it ! Four years are gone, perhaps the most important of my life ; well I remember them, though I have not written them down. But such short notices are interesting in later years, and so I will begin again. I conquered Hagedorn, have learnt of Goldstiicker and Trithen, and stand well with Bunsen ;
688 pages of the Veda are printed, and my way tolerably clear. To-day I received the news of G. Hermann’s death ; Letronne, too, died lately ; where are their successors ? I would gladly have seen old Hermann again; he was so brave, and noble, and free — a real Greek, and yet a German, with his small bright eyes. He has not lived in vain 1 Now for politics, but where to begin ? In Germany all is tottering, and only kept up by bayonets. The King is frightened at the Imperial Crown. If Bunsen only stays quietly in England ! He is to-day with the Queen; one hopes it is not to take leave.
Stockmar, too, is there ; I have seen his picture, quiet and clever ;
he influences Bunsen, who, however, makes use of him. Now
vacation in Oxford. I worked bravely since I spent Christmas with
Bunsen. This evening at a horrible party with in College.
Ugly men and women, bad music ; escaped with Pauli and Seliar, and smoked cigars in Balliol with Weatherly.’
January 7.
‘ A real English Sunday, which produces a certain dullness even in one’s work. Read proof-sheets, and studied Lepsius’s (Egyptian) Chronology without much effect. There are no clear results there as yet, though many clever hypotheses and difficulties. There is so litde in Egypt to warm one ! Walked with Seliar, dined with Weatherly, who had an evening party; on the whole pleasant, but not remarkable, so that men took to horse-play ; that seldom happens in Germany. Bunsen has gone to Berlin, ostensibly to be instructed on the German question, but one hopes that his letters, which he let me read in Totteridge, have had an effect, and his presence may do more — unfortunately only for the moment — in the highest circles : may he come back safely 1 Pity that he is a diplomatist, or that the world wants such clever men.’
1849] Prix Volney 89
To Bunsen he writes on January 24 : —
Translation.
• If you are really going to exchange beautiful Totteridge for the dusty Wilhelmstrasse, I am sure England will soon become strange to me. You may laugh, but pray believe that the thought of you is so closely united with my whole thoughts and wishes, however seldom I venture to intrude upon you, that I cannot accustom myself to the idea of living so entirely separated from you.’
On January 29 we find Max Miiller writing to Burnouf to inquire about the Prix Volney, a prize founded by Volney for the best work on language, written in any language during the year, and sent in for competition. He asks if his paper on the relation of Bengali to the other Indian languages, read before the British Association, was of sufficient importance to have any chance of winning the prize. Burnouf had noticed the little article very favourably in the Journal Asiatique. Max Miiller ends his letter thus : —
• The printing of the Rig-veda goes on very slowly, and yet I give up nearly all the day to it, and often the night also. Ninety sheets are printed, up to half of the sixth Adhyaya, but I have undertaken a little too much, and I find I have not much time to study for myself, and arrange in some sort the results of my researches, I shall have to be content with presenting only the materials to the learned world, and all I wish is that they may find the text of my edition correct according to the MSS., and that others who are more worthy, and more skilful than I am for discoveries in the highest philology, may draw the inferences. In any case the mines of the Rig-veda are not the mines of California ; the grains of gold are not to be found so near the surface that the pipilakas’ can find them without any effort. It is for me to act as miner and for others to sift the ore; for it is given to few persons to do both, as you have done for the Zend-Avesta.’
But occupied as he was with his work, his longing for home
and German life is constantly shown in his letters to his
mother ; and in one of them, in utter weariness of spirit, he
writes of Oxford as * the most tedious place in the whole of
tedious England.’ One pleasant prospect he had this summer ;
he had found occupation for his old friend Victor Cams as
^ Gold-finding ants in the Mahdbhdrata,
90 J. A. Froude [ch. vi
assistant to Dr. Acland, and the letters to his mother are full of happy anticipations of his arrival.
On February 9 Burnouf answered Max Muller’s inquiries about the Volney Prize. On consideration his honoured master evidently thought the treatise too short for the Volney competition, and that being printed with Bunsen’s and Meyer’s much longer papers might also be a disadvantage. ‘ Men are so made,’ says Burnouf, ‘ that size and bulk impose even on the most enlightened people. You have plenty of time to decide, and I hope you are convinced that if you compete your work will find a zealous advocate in me. I am so occu- pied with all the troubles in which we live, that I have become sadly and uselessly idle, and my health suffers. I owe the Revolution a disease of the heart. Receive the assurance of my lasting friendship.’
This year began Max Muller’s great intimacy with J. A. Froude, which continued till the death of the latter in the autumn of 1894. On the publication of the Nemesis of Faith early in this year, and the consequent loss of his Fellowship, Max Miiller was one of the few people in Oxford who stood by Mr. Froude and took a deep and active interest in his future plans of life. A remarkable letter from Bunsen on the subject will be found in the third volume of Chips (first edition). The following letter is in response to this : —
Translation. 9, Park Place, May 9, 1849.
‘ Froude has asked me to tell you that he will be in London in the course of a few days, and that his great wish is to see and talk with you. It would be very sad if talents such as Froude’s fell into the hands of English Radicals, Chartists, and Unitarians, who are already opening their arms for him. You will see that Froude, on the contrary, has all the best elements of the High Church party in him, that the unity of the Christian Church is his ideal, for which he would sacrifice as much as a German for the unity of Germany. I am quite con- vinced that the regeneration of the English Church can only come from the High Church party. It alone has influence, and the respect of the English people, and possesses the best intellectual power.
Newmanism is now taking a direction of which formerly one had no
idea, and which with all its bad motives must produce, nolens volens,
the finest effect. In order to prove the necessity of belief in authority,
men forget, to a certain degree, the danger of the use of the sacred
1849] Death of Sister s Children 91
writings, their contradictions and difficulties with regard to chronology, astronomy, and geology. “ Give me the Bible,” said Socinius, “ and I will prove all my heresies.” Ewald’s name is constantly mentioned here ; he has proved as a grammarian that the five books of Moses were not written by Moses, thus destroying the theory of inspiration, and faith demands new guarantees. This the old Fathers foresaw, and therefore kept the Bible from the people. . . . Whence then come all the difficult passages in the Bible? Because with your idiotic theological grammarians, you cannot enter into the language of the Bible. Where is there anything in the Bible of your inspiration a la Houdi7i V It is not the language, but the spirit of the Bible which has become strange to us. . . . Newmanism was originally natural and honest in the Enghsh Church. The soil and air spoils it and incKnes it to Romanism, but even this spoiling must work for good, and bring the English Church into a state of fermentation out of which she will come purified and reformed. Mere transference and translating of German works would never have any influence in England, but if men like Froude, who know the English nation, could show the practical results of German investigations and give them to the people not as a foreign, but as a native product, it might be possible for England to complete its reformation. There are people who believe as little in English mental power as in German marine power, but I have seen so many excellent gunboats launched here, and think that one might risk an Eckenforde^. Froude is already more of a litde steamship, that need not fear the salt water, but he wants more ballast, and that he must fetch from Germany, or he will suffer ship- wreck. Vise his passport for a German port, where, spite of all storms, there is less danger than on the Dead Sea.’
Whilst working hard and almost entirely absorbed in the Veda, his thoughts were unexpectedly turned into another channel by the almost sudden death of two of his sister’s children within three weeks of each other. The devoted young mother never really recovered from this sorrow.
To HIS Mother.
Translation. Oxford, April ^, 1849.
‘ The news of the death of my little godson was wholly unexpected, and filled me with sorrow, especially for poor Auguste, who, doubtless, feels this first loss deeply ; but if the poor Kttle fellow was so weakly, it is a blessing that God called him back so quickly to Himself.
^ A great conjurer.
• An engagement in the Danish-Prussian War, 1849.
92 Death of Children [ch. vi
I know that it is useless to look for comfort in such thoughts, or that
they lessen the grief and pain. Nor should they, for sorrow is neces- \
sary and good for men ; one learns to understand that each joy must”\
be indemnified by suffering, that each new tie which knits our hearts i
to this life must be loosed again, and the tighter and the closer it was
knit, the keener the pain of loosening it. Should we then attach ^^
our hearts to nothing, and pass quietly and unsympathetically through j
this world, as if we had nothing to do with it ? We neither could nor i
ought to act so. Nature itself knits the first tie between parents and |
children, and new ties through our whole life. We are not here for |
reward, for the enjoyment of undisturbed peace, or from mere !
[b]
Page 2 of 6 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
![-](https://i.servimg.com/u/f86/18/21/41/30/minus-11.png)
» திக்ரு பற்றி இஸ்லாம் கூறும் கருத்துக்கள் !!!
» தாய் தந்தையர் பற்றி இஸ்லாம் கூறும் கருத்துக்கள்
» வைகோ வை பற்றி பிரபலங்கள் மற்றும் அரசியல் தலைவர்களின் கருத்துக்கள்:
» ஆரியர்கள் என்பவர்கள் யார் ??
» பெருமைப்படுங்கள் இந்தியர்களே
» தாய் தந்தையர் பற்றி இஸ்லாம் கூறும் கருத்துக்கள்
» வைகோ வை பற்றி பிரபலங்கள் மற்றும் அரசியல் தலைவர்களின் கருத்துக்கள்:
» ஆரியர்கள் என்பவர்கள் யார் ??
» பெருமைப்படுங்கள் இந்தியர்களே
Page 2 of 6
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
|
|