FROM THE BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQUE TO JULIUS EDWARD HITZIG.
[From the first edition.]



We should take care, my dear Edward, not to expose the history of
poor Schlemihl to eyes unfit to look upon it. That would be a bad
experiment. Of such eyes there are plenty; and who is able to
predict what may befal a MANUSCRIPT, which is almost more difficult
to guard than spoken language? Like a person seized with vertigo,
therefore, who, in the paroxysm of his feelings, leaps into the
abyss, I commit the story to the press.

And yet there are better and more serious reasons for the step I
have taken. If I am not wholly deceived, there are in our dear
Germany many hearts both capable and worthy of comprehending poor
Schlemihl, although a smile will arise on the countenance of many
among our honest countrymen at the bitter sport which was death to
him and to the innocent being whom he drew along with him. And you,
Edward, when you have seen the estimable work, and reflected on the
number of unknown and sympathising bosoms who, with ourselves, will
learn to love it,--you will, then, perhaps, feel that some drops of
consolation have been instilled into those wounds inflicted on you,
and on all who love you, by death.

To conclude: I have become convinced, by repeated experience, that
a guardian angel watches over books, places them in proper hands,
and if not always, yet often, prevents them from falling into
improper. In any case, he exercises an invisible guardianship over
every work of true genius and genuine feeling, and with unfailing