each of whom he gathered something until he had converted himself into
a sort of universal abstract. The great poets, who shortly before and
after the seven years' war, put an end to mere partial imitations,
were not actuated by a reaction of nationality, but by a sentiment of
universality. Their object was, not to oppose the German to the
foreign, but simply the human to the single national element, and,
although Germany gave them birth, they regarded the whole world
equally as their country.

Lessing, by his triumph over the scholastic pedants, completed what
Thomasius had begun, by his irresistible criticism drove French taste
from the literary arena, aided Winckelmann to promote the study of the
ancients and to foster the love of art, and raised the German theatre
to an unprecedented height. His native language, in which he always
wrote, breathes, even in his most trifling works, a free and lofty
spirit, which, fascinating in every age, was more peculiarly so at
that emasculated period. He is, however, totally devoid of patriotism.
In his "Minna von Barnhelm," he inculcates the finest feelings of
honor; his "Nathan" is replete with the wisdom "that cometh from
above" and with calm dignity; and in "Emilia Galotti" he has been the
first to draw the veil, hitherto respected, from scenes in real life.
His life was, like his mind, independent. He scorned to cringe for
favor, even disdained letters of recommendation when visiting Italy
(Winckelmann had deviated from the truth for the sake of pleasing a
patron), contented himself with the scanty lot of a librarian at
Wolfenbuettel, and even preferred losing that appointment rather than
subject himself to the censorship. He was the boldest, freest, finest
spirit of the age.

Herder, although no less noble, was exactly his opposite. Of a soft