^{Note 1 in page 975} Neue Gesamtausgabe der Werke und Schriften, ed. Ger-hart Baumann and Siegfried Grosse (Stuttgart: Cotta, 1958), iv, 195.

^{Note 2 in page 975} Quotations from a few selected works arranged chronologically will give an idea of the unbroken tradition of the consensus. Among these works, the histories of literature

played a prominent part because of their long life-span and their many editions, which added new authors as time went on but left intact the passages about older ones. August Vilmar's history of literature, e.g., first published in 1845, a decade before Eichendorff's, reached the 25th edition by 1901 and was last printed in 1936; Robert Kônig's book saw the 8th edition in 1880, the 32nd in 1910, and the 37th (ed. Paul Weiglin) in 1930; Alfred Biese's work, first published in 1907, reached the 24th edition by 1930 and its last printing in 1934.

August F. C. Vilmar writes about Spee: “Der eigen-tiimliche Zug an seinen Liedern . . . ist die Vereinigung eines kindlichen, tiefen, innigen Naturgefuhls mit in-briinstiger Liebe zum Heiland” (Geschichte der deutschen Nalional-Litteratur, 12th ed., Marburg: Elwert, 1868, p. 349). Heinrich Kurz, in his Geschichte der deutschen Liter-atur (4th ed., Leipzig: Teubner, 1885), ii, 247, asks the rhetorical question: “Oder wer verkennt die Gesundheit in der Liebe zur Natur, die er so wundersam schildert ?” while Robert Konig makes the following statement: “Eine tiefe, seelenvolle Innigkeit und Frommigkeit spricht aus seinen Liedern, ein warmes Naturgefuhl” (Deutsche Literaturgeschichte, 32nd ed., Bielefeld: Velhagen & Kla-sing, 1910, i, 239).

In the 20th century, the tradition is continued by Alfred Biese, who writes: “Neben warmer, echter Frommigkeit bricht auch bei ihm wie bei Gerhardt immer wieder die Liebe zur Natur hervor” (Deutsche Literaturgeschichte, 15th ed., Munich: Beck, 1919, i, 391). Kuno Francke speaks of Spee's “Gefiihlsromantik” and of his “heitere Naturfreude” (Kulturwerte der deutschen Literatur, Berlin: Weidmann, 1923, pp. 270, 274) and in his History of German Literature (New York: Holt, 1931, p. 194) he states: “Spee's strength lies in his keen eye for the beauty of outward things.” In Fritz Martini's more recent Deutsche Literaturgeschichte (6th ed., Stuttgart: Kroner, 1955, p. 145), we read: “Mit mystischer Inbrunst feiert er Gott in der zu alien Sinnen sprechenden, jubilierenden Schônheit der Natur. . . . Inbrunstige Glut wechselt mit schônen Bildern, mystische Verzuckung mit bildhafter Anschauung einer bluhenden, von Pflanzen und Vogelgesang belebten Landschaft.” Ten years later Werner Kohlschmidt writes in his Geschichte der deutschen Literatur vom Barock bis zur Klassik (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1965, p. 90): “Diese Einstellung fuhrt zur Versenkung in jede einzelne Erscheinung mit aufiergewôhnlicher Glut und Innigkeit, der auch Steine, Erze und jedes Ding franziskanisch einbezogen werden.”

The same idea is found also in more specialized works. In Emil Ermatinger's Barock und Rokoko in der deutschen Dichtung (Leipzig: Teubner, 1928, p. 41), Spee is called “ein mannlicher Droste, nur tiefer und inbrunstiger” who gives all his love “der Kleinwelt der Natur.” Paul Hankam-mer, in his often reprinted Deutsche Gegenreformation und deutsches Barock (3rd ed., Stuttgart: Metzler, 1964, p. 164), speaks under the heading “Naturgefuhl” of “zierlich-zarten Naturschilderungen.” More recently, August Closs states that Spee “often paints natural scenes of charming sincerity” and that his poem “Konterfey des menschlichen Lebens” in particular “reveals Spee's sensitive feeling for nature” (The Genius of German Lyric, Philadelphia : Dufour, 1963, p. 125). Marian Szyrocki, in his Die deutsche Literatur des Barock: Eine Einfiihrung (Reinbek bei Hamburg: Rowohlt, 1968, p. 164), writes: “Er besingt die Schônheit der Landschaft und der Tages- und Jahreszeiten. Zwar sind seine Naturschilderungen als Preis Gottes gedacht, doch sie sind ‘ganz untheologisch geformt’ und zeugen von

der Ergriffenheit des Dichters durch die Herrlichkeit der Natur.“ For works on Spee see nn. 3, 4, 5, and 14.

^{Note 3 in page 976} Emmy Rosenfeld, Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld: Eine Stimme in der Wuste (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1958), pp. 233, 237; hereafter cited as Stimme; Neue Studien zur Lyrik von Friedrich von Spee (Milan: Cisalpina, 1963), p. 131; hereafter cited as Studien. See also Philipp Witkop: “Aus dieser Liebeseinheit erwâchst Spee ein Naturgefuhl so stark, so dramatisch, so seelen- und lebensvoll, wie es bis dahin in der deutschen Lyrik ohnegleichen, wie es bis Goethe nicht wieder zu finden ist” (Die deutschen Lyriker, Leipzig: Teubner, 1925, i, 36).

^{Note 4 in page 976} “Die Darstellung der Natur in den Dichtungen Fried-richs von Spee,” Euphorion, 26 (1925), 564–92; hereafter cited as Darstellung.

^{Note 5 in page 976} Geschichte des deutschen Liedes (1925; rpt. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche, 1959), p. 43. Eric Jacobsen seems ambiguous when he touches this point: “Von einem romantischen Sichverlieren'in der Natur ist hier nicht die Rede, dagegen zeigt Spee ein schemes Einfiihlungsvermogen” (Die Métamorphosai der Liebe und Friedrich Spees “Trutznachtigall,” Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1954, p. 161; hereafter cited as Metamorphosen). The term “Einfiihlungsvermogen,” however, betrays his adherence to the traditional view seen in n. 2.

^{Note 6 in page 976} This is esp. visible in the 2 studies by Rosenfeld.

^{Note 7 in page 976} See Jacobsen, Metamorphosen, pp. 20, 158; Robert M. Browning, “On the Numerical Composition of Friedrich Spee's Trutznachtigall” in Festschrift fiir Detlev D. Schumann, ed. Albert R. Schmitt (Munich: Delp, 1970), pp. 2839; hereafter cited as Composition. Rosenfeld's position is discussed at length in n. 1 of Browning's article. See also Robert M. Browning, German Baroque Poetry 1618–1723 (University Park: Pennsylvania State Univ. Press, 1971), p. 52; hereafter cited as Baroque Poetry.

^{Note 8 in page 976} All quotations are taken from Trutznachtigall, ed. Gustave ?. Arlt (Halle: Niemeyer, 1936).

^{Note 9 in page 976} Ernst Robert Curtius, Europaische Literatur und lateinisches Mittelalter, 6th ed. (Bern: Francke, 1967) ? 202.

^{Note 10 in page 976} See Gerhard Schônbeck, Der locus amoenus von Homer bis Horaz, Diss. Heidelberg 1962(Heidelberg: Sofortdruck, 1963), p. 33: “Wichtig fur das Verstàndnis des Landschafts-erlebnisses der Griechen (und im Anschluss an sie auch der Rômer) ist die Tatsache, dafi fur sie eine Landschaft oder ein Bereich derselben (z.B. Fliisse) Menschengestalt annahm.” I am indebted to this study for several ideas in this paragraph. Spee's poetry abounds in anthropomorphic forms. “Ridentia prata,” e.g., or variations thereof, are found in “Weil die griine wiesen lachen” (p. 101,1. 5), or in “Gehn làchlend umb,” speaking of the brooks (a 35,1. 15). For the tradition see: “Prata iam rident omnia”; “Ianiam rident prata” in Medieval Latin Lyrics, ed. and trans. Helen Waddell (1929; rpt. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 19621. pp. 262, 224. Goethe's “Es lacht die Flur” (“Mailied”) als 3 reflects this tradition.

^{Note 11 in page 976} See Heinrich Lausberg, Handbuch der literarischen Rhetorik (Munich : Hueber, 1960), §382–84.

^{Note 12 in page 976} Gruenther says: “Der von Curtius topisch abgesteckte ‘Lustort’ ist gleichsam der gemeinsame Nenner bestimmter literarischer Naturschilderungen, der eine Série vergleich-barer Erscheinungen sicherstellt. Diese sichergestellte Ver-gleichbarkeit ermoglicht erst die richtige Frage nach dem Zàhler, dem geschichtlich Einmaligen, den Unterschieden der auf einen (topischen) Nenner gebrachten Erscheinungen. So kann der Topos, indem er an seiner iiberge-schichtlichen Struktur festhàlt, in seinem geschichtlichen Wandel erfafit werden” (“Der Paradisus der Wiener Genesis,” Euphorion, 49, 1955, 119; hereafter cited as Paradisus).

^{Note 13 in page 977} Two works with a similar approach : Peter Dronke, Poetic Individuality in the Middle Ages: New Departures in Poetry 1000–1150 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1970); Fernando Lazaro Carreter, Estilo barocco y personalidad creadora (Salamanca: Anaya, 1966).

^{Note 14 in page 977} Johanna Messerschmidt-Schulz, Zur Darstellung der Landschaft in der deutschen Dichtung des ausgehenden Mit-telalters, Diss. Breslau 1938 (Breslau: Nischkowsky, 1938), pp. 16–17.

^{Note 15 in page 977} A few examples :

Maio mense dum per pratum pulchris floribus hornatum irem forte spatiatum vidi quiddam mihi gratum.

(Frederic J. E. Raby, A History of Secular Latin Poetry in the Middle Ages, 2nd ed., Oxford: Clarendon, 1957, II, 239.) “Iam prata sunt amoena/ spatiari dulce est” (Wad-dell, Latin Lyrics, p. 220).

^{Note 16 in page 977} “Sommerzeit” reflects the division of the year into 2 seasons. “Das iar teilent die liute in zwei, in den winter unde in den sumer, aber die meister teilent es in vier teil.” Meinauer Naturlehre, ed. W. Wackernagel, Bibliothek des Literarischen Vereins in Stuttgart (Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1851, xxii, 14). In Spee it is synonymous with “Friihling.”

^{Note 17 in page 977} Found in Boccaccio's Ninfale Fiesolano and in his La caccia di Diana. The same detail is used later by Pope in his “Windsor Forest” (1704): “Th'immortal huntress and her virgin train” (1. 160).

^{Note 18 in page 977} This number includes some poems from the neighboring sections (1 Gesponû-poem and 3 eclogues) because of their common content.

^{Note 19 in page 977} She is referring to Heinrich Schachner's Naturbilder und Naturbetrachtung in den Dichtungen Friedrichs von Spee, Programm Kremsmiinster (Linz: Steyr, 1906) and to Alfred Biese's Die Entwicklung des Naturgefiihls im Mit-telalter und Neuzeit (Leipzig: Veit, 1888).

^{Note 20 in page 977} See Curtius, Europaische Literatur, pp. 544, 550; St. Ambrose: “Pictus es ergo, ? homo, et pictus a Domino tuo. Bonum habes arteficem atque pictorem” (J.-P. Migne, Patrologiae Cursus Completus Series Latina, Paris: Migne, 1844–82, xiv, 276). An example of deus opifex in Spee:

Da sambt meinem Vatter droben

Wir die schône welt gemacht. Erd / vnd himmel / wir in zeiten Han gezimmert / vnd gebawt / . . .

(p. 261, ll. 9–12)

and of deus pictor:

Er mahlet jhn die federlein / —Schôn vber aile massen. (p. 149, 1. 8)

Grun farbet Er den erdenklotz / Mit blumlein vntermahlet.

(p. 149, ll. 22–23)

Dir mahlet er die garten (p. 187, 1. 22)

^{Note 21 in page 977} See Isidorus Hispalensis: “Mundus est coelum, terra, mare,” Etymologiae, in Migne, Patrologiae Latina LXXXII, 471. Similarly, in an early hymn:

Rex coeli, terrae, marium Regnari hie disposuit.

(Guido M. Dreves, Analecta Hymnica Medii Aevi, Leipzig: Altenburg, 1886, v, 55.)

^{Note 22 in page 977} See also another passage in Trutznachtigall:

Steigt auff vnd steigt hinunder

In alien wercken sein; Rufft vberall / wie wunder

Muß er doch selber sein !

(p. 140,11. 23–26)

^{Note 23 in page 977} See pp. 201, 202, 219, 220, 290, 325. For unknown reasons he does not use here a catalog of wild trees so popular in other literatures. For a discussion of the “catalog” as a general enumerative device, see Harry E. Wedeck, “The Catalogue in Late and Medieval Latin Poetry,” in Medievalia et Humanistica, Fasc. 13 (Boulder: Univ. of Colorado, 1960), pp. 10–16. Ovid's selection of trees is analyzed by Viktor Pôschl, “Der Katalog der Baume in Ovids Metamorphosen,” in Medium Aevum Vivum: Festschrift fur Walter Bulst (Heidelberg: Winter, 1960), pp. 13–21. Ovid's influence on tree catalogs in English (Chaucer, Spencer), Italian (Tasso, Poliziano, Marino), and, above all, Spanish poetry (Lope de Vega has 72 trees in a poem) is discussed by Rafael Osuna, “Un caso de continui-dad literaria: La ‘Silva Amoena,‘” Thesaurus, 24 (1969), 1–33. Spee uses, for variety's sake, native and exotic elements like pomegranates (found already in Homer) and citrus fruits among the trees and nonnative beasts in the following catalog of animals:

Elphanten / sampt Camelen / Roß / Lowen / hirsch / vnd Bar /

(p. 116,11. 19–20)

For another example of plénitude Dei see Spencer's poem “Hymn of Heavenly Beauty” quoted in Eustace M. W. Tillyard's The Elizabethan World Picture (1943; rpt. New York: Vintage, n.d.), p. 25.

^{Note 24 in page 977} This idea is expressed by Gustav Balke in the introd. to his edition of Trutznachtigall (Leipzig: Brockhaus, 1879, p. xlvii) as a deficiency due to lack of imagination: “Wie wir hier grofie, schwungvolle Phantasie vermissen, so finden wir dieselbe auch nicht in den Naturschilderungen Spe's [sic]. Dieselbe sind Kleinmalereien.” Later it became a commonplace in passages dealing with Spee but as a positive value. See Rosenfeld's “jede kleinste Existenz, jede kleinste Regung,” Kohlschmidt's “Versenkung in jede einzelne Erscheinung,” or Susanne Bankl: “Die letzten zwei Strophen sind ein Beispiel fur Spees Kunst der Kleinmalerei und die Innigkeit der Betrachtung auch des Kleinsten in der Natur,” in “Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld und die europàische Mystik,” Diss. Vienna 1959, p. 360.

^{Note 25 in page 978} Rosenfeld, Stimme, p. 245. While this aspect was mentioned in passing in earlier works and identified as a pastoral “Maskerade,” it has become the topic of many studies, esp. after World War II: Wolfgang Nowak, “Ver-such einer motivischen Analyse des Schàferhabits,” Diss. Berlin 1954; Elfriede Eikel, “Die Entstehung der religiosen Schâferlyrik von Petrarca bis Spee,” Diss. Heidelberg 1957; Richard Newald's chapter on Spee entitled “Geist-liche Schaferdichtung” in Helmuth De Boor and Richard Newald, Geschichte der deutschen Literatur, 3rd. ed. (Munich: Beck, 1960), iv, 245. Nowak attempts to explain all aspects of Spee's work from the pastoral point of view. As a result we can read in a history of literature whose authors have read Nowak but not Spee: “. . . und die ein-undfunfzig Lieder, die er Trutz-Nachtigall nannte, sind zum grofiten Teil aus der Schaferdichtung hergeleitet” (Hermann Glaser, Jakob Lehmann, and Arno Lubos, Wege der deutschen Literatur: Eine geschichtliche Darstellung, Frankfurt: Ullstein, 1962, p. 79).

^{Note 26 in page 978} See William Leonard Grant, Neo-Latin Literature and the Pastoral (Chapel Hill : Univ. of North Carolina Press 1965), p. 258.

^{Note 27 in page 978} See Harsdôrffer, Frauenzimmer Gesprdchspiele, ed. Irmgard Bôttcher (1645; rpt. Tubingen: Niemeyer, 1969), v, 450: “Der Hirten sind viererley / Kuhehirten / Schaf-hirten / Geifihirten und Schweinhirten : Dieser letzten aber wird gar selten gedacht; der Schafhirten und Schàfer am meisten: weil sie bey ihren Heerden fast mussig / ihren Gedanken am besten abwarten kônnen und kein so un-bàndiges Viehe / wie die andern / zu huten haben.” An example from Spee :

Treiben keine gleichen schaaren ; Ich die schâfflein / er die kuh.

(p. 326, ll. 19–20)

^{Note 28 in page 978} The laudes -eclogues are arranged antithetically: in the first (no. 30) the shepherds are presented as they “zu nacht Gott loben, dievveil Mon, vnd Sternen scheinen” and in the next as they “zu morgens friih Gott loben, allvveil die schone Sonn scheinet.” The principle for this arrangement is known in rhetorics as distributio: an idea, instead of being expressed directly, is broken down into antithetical components (“polare Ausdrucksweise”). Spee's “zu nacht” and “zu morgens” stand for “always” or “day and night.” The third eclogue (no. 32) combines this polarity into the same poem. In order to make “always” even more emphatic Spee increases here the number of subdivisions: the day is subdivided into morning, noon, and evening. He uses this device elsewhere'in the book, notably in his BuRlieder and his Klagelieder. In the former, the antithesis appears in 2 consecutive poems (no. 15 at night, no. 16 during the day) whereas in the 2 latter ones (nos. 6 and 8), the antithesis is contained within each poem.

^{Note 29 in page 978} Browning, Composition and Baroque Poetry. The ideas presented in these 2 works certainly deserve a critical examination but not within the framework of this study.

^{Note 30 in page 978} The exceptions are the /aufer-eclogues, poem no. 37 which separates the Christmas and the Easter cycles, and poem 52 at the end of the book which may have been added, as Browning suggests, to fill a few empty pages.

^{Note 31 in page 978} Browning claims that this poem was put at the end of Trutznachtigall because it represents the climax and “the key to the interpretation of the whole cycle” (Baroque Poetry, p. 53) and he supports his assertion by pointing to the fact that it bears the number 51 which he calls “pentecostal” (Composition, p. 33). Judging by the title of the poem (“Am heiligen Fronleichnams Fest, von dem Hochv-vurdigen Sacrament defi altars”) we are dealing heie with a poem composed expressly for the feast. Its position is determined by the place the feast of Corpus Christi occupies in the ecclesiastical year, namely at the very end of the important feasts. Its proper place would be in the Easter cycle (Maundy Thursday and the commemoration of Christ's Last Supper). However, the idea of such a feast came rather late when all the others were firmly established in the calendar. Consequently, it was decided to put it after Trinity Sunday which concluded the pentecostal cycle, yet on a Thursday to preserve its connection with Maundy Thursday. The Council of Trent confirmed the doctrine and the feast and gave the procession the character of a public manifestation, a “sacred representation” as it were, “damit ihre (i.e., der Wahrheit) Gegner im Anblick solchen Glanzes … wieder zu Verstande kommen” (Resolution of the Council of Trent in Taschenlexikon Religion und Théologie, Gottingen: Vandenhoeck, 1971, under “Fronleichnams-fest”). See also Handbuch theologischer Grundbegriffe (1962; rpt. Munich: DTV, 1970, under “Eucharistie”). If Spee really wanted to complete his collection with a “pentecostal” poem, would his Trinity-Poem (no. 29) not have served this purpose better ?

^{Note 32 in page 978} Théo. G. M. Oorshot suggests that several poems from Trutznachtigall may have been intended to be sung at catechism classes but he does not mention the eclogues in this connection (“Nachwort” to his edition of Spee's Guldenes Tugendbuch, Munich: Kosel, 1968).

^{Note 33 in page 978} See Eugen Kohler, Sieben spanische dramatische Eklogen, Gesellschaft fur romanische Literatur, No. 27 (Halle: Niemeyer, 1911), and Doris Lessig, Ursprung und Entwicklung der spanischen Ekloge bis 1650 (Geneva: Droz, 1962).

^{Note 34 in page 978} Le rime di Francesco Petrarca, ed. Giosuè Carducci and Severino Ferrari (Florence: Sansoni, 1946), p. 183.

^{Note 35 in page 978} See John Arthos, The Language of Nature Description in Eighteenth Century Poetry (Ann Arbor: Univ. of Michigan Press, 1959), under “Crystal water” for examples from other European literatures: e.g., “liquidi cristalli” (Petrarch), “cristallino umore” (Tasso), “liquidos cristales” (Gongora), “christalline humor” (Spencer).

^{Note 36 in page 978} This detail is found also in the 18th century: e.g., “Durch grunende Felder sich schlànglende Bâche” (?. ?. Brockes in Joseph Kurschner's National-Literatur, Berlin: Spemann, xxxix, 1884, 352); “und schlângen sich durch unser Felder Flâche” (Brockes, p. 299) ; “Im krummen Ufer Silberbàche schleichen” (Ewald Kleist, National-Literatur, XLV, 141); “in Binsen sich windend” (Kleist, p. 171); “Schlangenwandelnd” (Goethe in “Mahomets Gesang”); “und der sanfte FluC zwischen seinen entblàtterten Weiden zu mir herschlàngelt” (Goethe, Die Leiden des jungen Werther, Jubilàumsausgabe, Stuttgart: Cotta, xvi, 1907, 97).

^{Note 37 in page 979} See Petrarch's “ ‘l mormorare de’ liquidi cristalli” (Le rime, p. 312); Boccaccio's “dell'acqua corrente che mormorava” (Teseide, p. 4,1. 66); Ariosto's

Due chiari rivi mormorando Sempre l'erbe vi fan tenere e nove; ? rendea ad ascoltar dolce concento Rotto tra picciol sassi il correr lento.

(Orlando Furioso, Canto i, st. 35)

^{Note 38 in page 979} The technical term was “illustrare” and the embellishments were compared to the stars. See, e.g., Johannes Sturmius, De imitatione, ed. V. Erythraeus (Strassburg: Jobinus, 1576), n. pag.: “Turn verborum atque senten-tiarum ornamenta non magis celari possunt, quam sidera coeli.”

^{Note 39 in page 979} More about Spee's structural preoccupations in my article “Friedrich Spee and Virgil's Fourth Géorgie,” Comparative Literature, 24 (1972), 118–35.

^{Note 40 in page 979} A few more examples of the description of birds:

Sich die schone voglein rusten / Schàrpffen jhre schnàbelein /

Sie sich lan der stimm geliisten / Blasen jhre pfeiffelein.

(p. 326,11. 5–8)

Wan dan schallt auff den zweigen

Gesang der vôgelein / Noch Laut / noch Harpff / noch Geigen

Klingt also suß vnd rein: Jhr lieblichs musiciren

Mich diinckt so sauber gut / Jhr kunstlichs coloriren /

Bringt lauter frewden muth.

(p. 115,11. 3–10)

Zu dir viel tausend vôgelein Mit frewd / vnd jubel schweben /

Zur sang-schul zu dir kommen ein / Vnd nach dem Crantzlein streben /

Wer wil die stiicklein zehlen all / So die dan figuriren ?

Concerten / Fugen / Madrigall / Auff hundertfalt maniren.

(p. 160,11. 3–10)

^{Note 41 in page 979} The word “derivative” used at times to describe this type of poetry tells only half of the story. It is evidently a remnant of the 19th-century esthetics where the “what” scored higher than the “how.”

^{Note 42 in page 979} Waß nur zum jeden sinn gericht /

Waß zum gefuhl / vnd horen /

(p. 160, ll. 23–24)

Waß zum geschmack / waß zum gesicht Sich last von keim zerstôren.

(p. 161, ll. 1–2)

Browning called my attention to poem no. 13 where Spee describes a flower that “gab auch so sussen ruch” to rebut my claim that Spee's flowers only blossomed and did not smell. However, this flower, probably a rose, is not part of the topos. It is used here as a symbol of the passing of beauty.

^{Note 43 in page 979} Dort stellet er den sommer klar /

Den winter dort beyseiten; Dan auch den herbst / vnd Fruhling beyd . . .

(p. 148,11. 13–15)

^{Note 44 in page 979} See A. Bartlett Giamatti, The Earthly Paradise and the Renaissance Epic (Princeton: Princeton Univ. Press, 1966), with ample bibliography. >

^{Note 45 in page 979} See my “Spee, Herder, and Literary Criticism,” German Quarterly, 44 (1971), 525–33.

^{Note 46 in page 979} Concluding his paragraph on Spee, Wilhelm Scherer says: “Zuweilen empfangen wir den Eindruck einer mit Schnôrkeln und Gold iiberladenen, mit verlebten Gemàlden und gewundenen Sâulen prangenden Jesuitenkirche; aber bald springen die Pforten auf, die Wànde schwinden, und aus hoher offener Halle blicken wir auf Wald und Wiese und Bergesgipfel im Morgenschein : Bâche rauschen, Vogel singen, Bienen summen, und die Harfe klingt” (Geschichte der deutschen Literatur, 7th ed., Berlin: Weid-mann, 1894, p. 335); also in Oskar Walzel's revised edition of Scherer's work (4th ed., Berlin: Askanischer Verlag, 1928, p. 259).