high worth of the “Nibelungen,” and how many feeble balladmongers of that Swabian Era have transmitted us their names, so total an oblivion, in this infinitely more important case, may seem surprising. But those “Minnelieder” (Love-songs) and Provençal Madrigals were the Court Poetry of that time, and gained honour in high places; while the old National Traditions were common property and plebeian, and to sing them an unrewarded labour.
Whoever he may be, Iet him have our gratitude, our love. Looking back with a farewell glance, over that wondrous old Tale, with its many-coloured texture “of joyances and hightides, of weeping and of woe,” so skilfully yet artlessly knit-up into a whole, we cannot but repeat that a true epic spirit lives in it; that in many ways it has meaning and charms for us. Not only as the oldest Tradition of Modern Europe, does it possess a high antiquarian interest; but farther, and even in the shape we now see it under, unless the “Epics of the Son of Fingal” had some sort of authenticity, it is our oldest Poem also; the earliest product of these New Ages, which on its own merits, both in form and essence, can be named Poetical. Considering its chivalrous, romantic tone, it may rank as a piece of literary composition, perhaps considerably higher than the Spanish “Cid”; taking in its historical significance, and deep ramifications into the remote Time, it ranks indubitably and greatly higher.
It has been called a Northern “Iliad”; but except in the fact that both Poems have a narrative character, and both sing “the destructive rage” of men, the two have scarcely any similarity. The Singer of the “Nibelungen” is a far different person from Homer; far inferior both in culture and in genius. Nothing of the glowing imagery, of the fierce bursting energy, of the mingled fire and gloom, that dwell in the old Greek, makes its appearance here. The German Singer is comparatively a simple nature; has never penetrated deep into life; never “questioned Fate;” or struggled with fearful mysteries; of all which we find traces in Homer, still more in Shakespeare; but with meek believing sub-
