and Hermann Fischer[32] have said in
their essays in regard to this point--that Hoelderlin did not become
insane because his life was a succession of unsatisfactory situations
and painful disappointments, but because he had not the strength to work
himself out of these situations into more favorable ones--states only
half the case. True, a stronger mental organization might have overcome
these or even greater difficulties; Schiller, Herder, Fichte are
examples; but not all of Hoelderlin's failures and disappointments were
the result of his weakness, and so while it is right to state that a
stronger and more robust nature would have conquered in the fight, it is
also fair to say that Hoelderlin would have had a good chance of winning,
had fortune been more kind. For this reason these external influences
must be reckoned with as an important cause of his Weltschmerz and
subsequently of his insanity.

This suggests an interesting point of comparison--if I may be permitted
to anticipate somewhat--with Lenau, the second type selected. Hoelderlin
earnestly pursued happiness and contentment, but it eluded him at every
step. Lenau on the contrary reached a point in his Weltschmerz where he
refused to see anything in life but pain, wilfully thrusting from him
even such happiness as came within his reach.

We may postpone any detailed reference to Hoelderlin's relations with
Susette Gontard, which were vastly more important in their influence
upon the poet's character and Weltschmerz, until we come to the
discussion of his "Hyperion," of which Susette, under the pseudonym of
Diotima, forms one of the central figures.

To speak of all the disappointments which fell to Hoelderlin's lot would
practically require the writing of his biography from the time of his
graduation from Tuebingen to his return from Bordeaux, almost the entire
period of his sane manhood. Unsuccessful in his first position as a
tutor, and unable, after having abandoned this, to provide even a meagre
living for himself with his pen, his migration to Frankfort to the house
of the merchant Gontard at last gave him a hope of better things, but a
hope which soon proved vain. Following close upon these disappointments
was his failure to carry out a project which he had long cherished, of
establishing a literary journal; then came his dismissal from a
situation which he had just entered upon in Switzerland. On his return
he wrote to Schiller for help and advice, and