e
already seen the extent to which he was over-awed (?) by Goethe's views
when they were at variance with their own.[132] On another occasion he
writes: "Was Goethe ueber Ruysdael faselt, kannte ich bereits."[133]
Toward his critics his bearing was that of haughty indifference: "Mag
auch das Talent dieser Menschen,[TN1] mich zu insultieren, gross sein,
mein Talent, sie zu verachten, ist auf alle Faelle groesser."[134] When
his Fruehlingsalmanach of 1835 had been received with disfavor by the
critics, he professed to be concerned only for his publisher: "Ich
meinerseits habe auf Liebe und Dank nie gezaehlt bei meinen
Bestrebungen."[135] "Die (Recensenten) wissen den Teufel von
Poesie."[136] Whether this real or assumed nonchalance would have stood
the test of literary disappointments such as Hoelderlin's, it is needless
to speculate.

Hoelderlin eagerly sought after happiness and contentment, but fortune
eluded him at every turn. Lenau on the contrary thrust it from him with
true ascetic spirit.

The mere thought of submitting to the ordinary process of negotiations
and recommendations for a vacant professorship of Esthetics in Vienna is
so repulsive to his pride, that the whole matter is at once allowed to
drop, notwithstanding that he has been preparing for the place by
diligent philosophical studies.[137] The asceticism with which he
regarded life in general is expressed in a letter to Emilie Reinbeck,
1843, in which he says: "Wer die Welt gestalten helfen will, muss darauf
verzichten, sie zu geniessen."[138] But more often this resignation
becomes a defiant challenge: "Ich habe dem Leben gegenueber nun einmal
meine Stellung genommen, es soll mich nicht hinunterkriegen. Dass mein
Widerstand nicht der eines ruhigen Weisen ist, sondern viel Trotziges an
sich hat, das liegt in meinen Temperament."[139]

Another characteristic difference between Lenau's Weltschmerz and
Hoelderlin's lies in the fact that the writings of the latter do not
exhibit that absolute and abject despair which marks Lenau's lyrics.
Typical for both poets are the lines addressed by each to a rose:

Ewig traegt im Mutterschosse,
Suesse Koenigin der Flur,
Dich und mich die stille, grosse,
Allbelebende Natur.

Roeschen unser Schmuck veraltet,
Sturm entblaettert dich und mich,
Doch der ew'ge Keim entfaltet
Bald zu neuer Bluete sich![140]

Unmistakable as is the melancholy strain of these verses, they are not
wit