Into Germany the Commedia penetrated later.
How utterly Dante was unknown there in the sixteenth century is plain from a passage in the Vanity of the Arts and Sciences of Cornelius Agrippa, where he is spoken of among the authors of lascivious stories: There have been many of these historical pandars, of which some of obscure fame, as Aeneas Sylvius, Dantes, and Petrarch, Boccace, Pontanus, etc.
Ed. Lond. 1684, p. 199. The first German translation was that of Kannegiesser (1809). Versions by Streckfuss, Kopisch, and Prince John (late king) of Saxony followed.
Goethe seems never to have given that attention to Dante which his ever-alert intelligence might have been expected to bestow on so imposing a moral and aesthetic phenomenon.
Unless the conclusion of the second part of Faust be an inspiration of the Paradiso, we remember no adequate word from him on this theme.
His remarks on one of the German translations are brief, dry, and without that breadth which comes
tearing up whatever had roots in the past, replacing the venerable trunks of tradition and orderly growth with liberty-poles, then striving vainly to piece together the fibres they had broken, and to reproduce artificially that sense of permanence and continuity which is the main safeguard of vigorous selfconscious-ness in a nation.
He became a Tory through intellectual conviction, retaining, I suspect, to the last, a certain radicalism of temperament and instinct.
Haydon tells us that in 1809 Sir George Beaumont said to him and Wilkie, Wordsworth may perhaps walk in; if he do, I caution you both against his terrific democratic notions; and it must have been many years later that Wordsworth himself told Crabb Robinson, I have no respect whatever for Whigs, but I have a great deal of the Chartist in me.
In 1802, during his tour in Scotland, he travelled on Sundays as on the other days of the week.
This was probably one reason for the long suppression of Miss Wordsworth's journal