tious and outside nature. If their thought
had kept to simple sensuous truth, it could not have taken this flight;
but on the other hand a mere play of fancy, without inner value, could
not have stirred the heart: this is only stirred by reason. Thus this
sort of exaggeration must be called to order, but it is not contemptible:
and those who ridicule it would do well to find out if the wisdom on
which they pride themselves is not want of heart, and if it is not
through want of reason that they are so acute. The exaggerated delicacy
in gallantry and honor which characterizes the chivalrous romances,
especially of Spain, is of this kind; also the refined and even
ridiculous tenderness of French and English sentimental romances of the
best kind. These sentiments are not only subjectively true, but also
objectively they are not without value; they are sound sentiments issuing
from a moral source, only reprehensible as overstepping the limits of
human truth. Without this moral reality how could they stir and touch so
powerfully? The same remark applies to moral and religious fanaticism,
patriotism, and the love of freedom when carried up to exaltation. As
the object of these sentiments is always a pure idea, and not an external
experience, imagination with its proper activity has here a dangerous
liberty, and cannot, as elsewhere, be called back to bounds by the
presence of a visible object. But neither the man nor the poet can
withdraw from the law of nature, except to submit to that of reason. He
can only abandon reality for the ideal; for liberty must hold to one or
the other of these anchors. But it is far from the real to the ideal;
and between the two is found fancy, with its arbitrary conceits and its
unbridled freedom. It must needs be, therefore, that man in general, and
the poet in particular, when he withdraws by liberty of his understanding
from the dominion of feeling, without being moved to it by the laws of
reason--that is, when he abandons nature through pure liberty--he finds
himself freed from all law, and therefore a prey to the illusions of
phantasy.

It is testified by experience that entire nations, as well as individual
men, who have parted with the safe direction of nature, are actually in
this condition; and poets have gone astray in the same manner. The true
genius of sentimental poetry, if its aim is to raise itself to the rank
of the ideal, must overstep the limits of the existing nature; but false