hose who desire to know more of the poet's life than has been
told, this is added. He did not live to be very old. A painful disease
(the result of mental toil), borne through many years, ended his life
almost in its prime. He retained his faculties till the last, and bore
protracted suffering with a heroism and endurance which he had not
always displayed in smaller trials. The medical men pronounced, on the
authority of a _post-mortem_ examination, that he must for years have
suffered a silent martyrdom. Truly, his bodily sufferings (when known
at last) might well excuse many weaknesses and much moody, irritable
impatience; especially when it is remembered that the mental
sufferings of intellectual men are generally great in proportion to
their gifts, and (when clogged with nerves and body that are ever
urged beyond their strength) that they often mock the pride of
humanity by leaving but little space between the genius and the
madman.
Another fact was not known till he had died--his charity. Then it was
discovered how much kindness he had exercised in secret, and that
three poor widows had been fed daily from his table during all the
best years of his prosperity. Before his death he arranged all his
affairs, even to the disposal of his worn-out body.
"My country has been gracious to me," he said, "and, if it cares, may
dispose of my carcase as it will. But I desire that after my death my
heart may be taken from my body and buried at the feet of my father
and my mother in the churchyard of my native town. At their feet," he
added, with some of the old imperiousness--"strong in death." "At
their feet, remember!"
In one of the largest cities of Germany, a huge marble monument is
erected to the memory of the Great Man. On three sides of the pedestal
are bas-relief designs illustrating some of his works, whereby three
fellow-countrymen added to their fame; and on the fourth is a fine
inscription in Latin, setting forth his talents, and his virtues, and
the honours conferred on him, and stating in conclusion (on the
authority of his eulogizer) that his works have gained for him
immortality.
In a quiet green churchyard, near a quiet little town, under the
shadow of the quaint old church, a little cross marks the graves of a
tradesman and of his wife who lived and laboured in their generation,
and are at rest. Near them, daisies grow above the dust of the
"Fraeulein," which awaits the resurrection from the dead. And
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