New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1856-12-19
Bsyard Taylor in NorthernE Europe.
INTERVIEWS WITH GERMAN AUTHORS.

BERLIN Nov. 20, 1855.
I,eft Go,ba on sbe 14th in the first snow-stofn
sf the season. Ny trees were bare at last the
fountain was locked up for the Winter, aud the
susint garden. house stood deserted on the lin.
den avenue. The close Of Autumn warned ss,
birds of passage, to take our flight, not to the
South, but to the North. So the trunks were
vached, The adieux were said, aud we started for
The Aurora Borealis, by way Of COburg and Dres-
den.
visited Coburg, principally for the sake of SEQ
hog again the noble old poet, RUECxEaT, whom l
had met four years before, and who, hearing | was
in Go,hs kindly asked me to vsi. him before leav-
ipg Germany. found hun living the same stad-
Gus, secluded life in the little village Neusass,
buried in his Oriental manuscripts and rarely seen
by men. His wife (the Luise of his earlier poems)
welcomed me with cordially, and two oloomios
daughters kept up lively conversation until th'
poet appeared. How well | remembered that
frame tall and slender as Schillers but erect as an
Arab chiefaih's; that stately head, with th' gray
hair parted in front ard falling In slVer masses on
the shoulders; The strongly modelled brow, under
which looked out eyes full Of a soft, lambert fre,
Exc those of seer the straight, strong nose, firm,
stern lips and projecting chin, milder counterpart
of Andrew JacksOn-the head of thinker aud a
poet!
Ruckert must be nearly, if not quite. seventy
years of age. He is still q venture 10 stsy) as pro-
luctve ever, although he has published little for
some years past. His habits Of study have made
him shy and distracted, but the same habits give
to bis conversation vIgor of thought, richness of
illustration, and glow of fancy, which l thiok
could scarcely have been surpassed by the mono
logues of Coleridge. With his soft, bright eyes d.
rected steadily before hir. as if he the horizon
of the desert, he talked OF the Arabs VINO lived be-
fore Mohammed with the sane familiar intelligence
ss be would speak of his cotemporaries. The
lifting of bis glance as he turned to ward me now
and tben in the eaInestness of his discourse, was
like an Eastern sunrise. The Fact lives in his
soul, and warns bis old age with its eternal
summer.
UPLAND only disputes With RGckert the title of
being the frat If living German poets. He is
ample and pathetic and his verses appeal more d.
rectly to the German heart. RGckert, on the other
hand, is half an Asiatic and in the splendor of his
Imagination, as well as his wonderful command of
the dexteiites of his native language, is scarcely
surpassed by Ell Hariri himself. There can be no
comparison between the twO they stand on differ
emit pedestals. Personally, a'sO the men haze no
resemblance. l was in Tubineen four years ago
the home of Uhland-and could not find it in my
heart to leave without speaking to the man whose
"MinstIel's Curse" and "Litte Roland" had
beea haunting my brain for so many years. /
wrote note stating my desire, and Immediately
received an invitation to call upon him. found
him in house overlooking the valley of the Neckar,
in little, darn, barely furnished library. He came
forward to meet me-a small wrinhled dry old
man Of at least seventy, with bald head and curious
Fuckers in the corners Of bic mouth and eyes. But
the eyes themselves were as soft, blue and clear
child's, and there was winning, child. Like SIM
plicity in his manner despite a certain awkward
ness and frigidty which at first showed itself.
We sat down together on the little leather.cov-
cred sofa behind bis desk, and he talked very pleas
antly for an hour. I asked whether he had written
anything recently or whether he had, perhaps,
srswn weary of that
w,., ,,,, ' ,.!:: sasL in poetic pains.
81 should not like to swear" he said in answer,
"that shall write no more songs. have as
i
there s no longer the same necessity for expression
and never write without a strcng necessity. l
hear the same music in my brain, but am content
to hear it without singing it." just the answer I
should have expected from a true poet.
At the table Of q friend in Coburg met with
FREDERICK GERsTAECKER, the distinguished trav.
oler and author. had spent an afternoon with
him in the ROsenthal, near LEIPZIG, eleven years
ago; but he had comprised the earth since then
had ridden across the Pampas, washed gold in
California, played the guitar in Tahiti, tramped
through Australia and listened to the songs Of
Malay girls in Java. He was but little changed,
except in wearing a thick brown beard, which
mitigated the somewhat harsh projection of As
anderjaw. There was the same 1.-the, wiry frame,
anworn BY much endurance, the slopipg brow, OK
banding to wedge-lise shspe at the temples and
the quick, keen, vivacious gray eye, As remem-
bersd them in 1916. Gerstacker has enc Of those
faces which are never forgotten. His Individuality
u strongly marked; he takes and gives Impressions
with equal force, and thus adventures and pictur-
esque experiences come II him unsought, which is
Abe grsatest fortune . traveller can have. His
works have been very successful, and yield him
(whst few German authors can boast of land
some income.
Duke Ernest Of SAKE Coburg Gotta, who is dis
tipguished among German princes By an intelligent
taste for literature and art. has made choce Ct
Certstacker a. his special friend and companion
The latter, who is an enthusiastic hunter, accom-.
" Al r.