Modern philosophy had no sooner triumphed over ancient religion and France over Germany than an extraordinary reaction, inaptly termed the romantic, took place in poetry. Although Ultramontanism might be traced even in Friedrich Schlegel, this school of poetry nevertheless solely owes its immense importance to its resuscitation of the older poetry of Germany, and to the success with which it opposed Germanism to Gallicism. Ludwig Tieck exclusively devoted himself to the German and romantic Middle Ages, to the Minnesingers, to Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Calderon, and modelled his own on their immortal works. The eyes of his contemporaries were by him first completely opened to the long-misunderstood beauties of the Middle Ages. His kindred spirit, Novalis (Hardenberg), destined to a too brief career, gave proofs of signal talent. Heinrich von Kleist, who committed suicide, left the finest-spirited and most delightful dramas. Ludwig Achim von Arnim, like Tieck, cultivated the older German Saga; his only fault was that, led away by the richness of his imagination, he overcolored his descriptions. Aided by Brentano, he collected the finest of the popular ballads of Germany in "des Enaben Wunderhorn." At Berlin, Fouque, with true old German taste, revived the romances of chivalry and, shortly before 1813, met the military spirit once more rising in Prussia with a number of romances in which figured battle-steeds and coats of mail, German faith and bravery, valiant knights and chaste dames, intermixed, it must be confessed, with a good deal of affectation. On the discovery being made that many of the ancient German ballads were still preserved among the lower classes, chiefly among the mountaineers, they were also sought for, and some poets tuned their lyres on the naive popular tone, etc., first, Hebel, in the partly extremely natural, partly extremely affected, Alemannic songs, which have found frequent imitators. Zacharia Werner and Hoffiman, on the other hand, exclusively devoted themselves to the darker side of days of yore, to their magic and superstition, and filled the world, already terror-stricken by the war, with supernatural stories. Still, throughout one and all of these productions, curiously as they contrasted, the same inclination to return to and to revive a purely German style was evident. At that moment the great crisis suddenly took place. Before even the poets could predict the event, Germany cast off the yoke of Napoleon, and the German "Sturm and Freiheitslieder" of Theodor Körner, Arndt, Schenkendorf, etc., chimed in like a fearfully beautiful Allegro with the Adagio of their predecessors.