den Gedanken an meine Zukunft."[79] Many similar Statements might
be quoted from his letters to show that it was not merely the ordinary
process of traveling, though that at best must have been trying enough,
but the breathless haste of his journeys, combined with mental anxiety,
which usually characterized them, that made them so detrimental to his
health.

It is as interesting as it is significant to note in this connection the
fact that while on a journey to Munich, just a short time before the
light of his intellect failed, Lenau wrote the following lines, the last
but one of all his poems:

's ist eitel nichts, wohin mein Aug' ich hefte!
Das Leben ist ein vielbesagtes Wandern,
Ein wuestes Jagen ist's von dem zum andern,
Und unterwegs verlieren wir die Kraefte.

Doch traegt uns eine Macht von Stund zu Stund,
Wie's Krueglein, das am Brunnenstein zersprang,
Und dessen Inhalt sickert auf den Grund,
So weit es ging, den ganzen Weg entlang,--
Nun ist es leer. Wer mag daraus noch trinken?
Und zu den andern Scherben muss es sinken.[80]

Hoelderlin also uses the striking figure contained in the last line, not
however as here to picture the worthlessness of human life in general,
but to stigmatize the Germans, whom Hyperion describes as "dumpf und
harmonielos, wie die Scherben eines weggeworfenen Gefaesses."[81]

That Lenau was a neurasthenic seems to be the consensus of opinion, at
least of those medical authorities who have given their views of the
case to the public.[82] This fact also has an important bearing upon our
discussion, since it will help to show a materially different origin for
Lenau's Weltschmerz and Hoelderlin's.

Much more frequent than in the case of the latter are the ominous
forebodings of impending disaster which characterize Lenau's poems and
correspondence. In a letter to his friend Karl Mayer he writes: "Mich
regiert eine Art Gravitation nach dem Ungluecke. Schwab hat einmal von
einem Wahnsinnigen sehr geistreich gesprochen.... Ein Analogon von
solchem Daemon (des Wahnsinns) glaub' ich auch in mir zu
beherbergen."[83] He is continually engaged in a gruesome
self-diagnosis: "Dann ist mir zuweilen, als hielte der Teufel seine Jagd
in dem Nervenwalde meines Unterleibes: ich hoere ein deutliches
Hundegebell daselbst und ein dumpfes Halloh des Schwarzen. Ohne Scherz;
es ist oft zum Verzweifeln."[84] This process of self-diagnosis may be
due in part to his