German fiction -- Translations into English; Palestine -- History -- Fiction
This eBook was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
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entire meal of them. D.W.]
JOSHUA
By Georg Ebers
Volume 1.
Translated from the German by Mary J. Safford
PREFACE.
Last winter I resolved to complete this book, and while giving it the
form in which it now goes forth into the world, I was constantly reminded
of the dear friend to whom I intended to dedicate it. Now I am permitted
to offer it only to the manes of Gustav Baur; for a few months ago death
snatched him from us.
Every one who was allowed to be on terms of intimacy with this man feels
his departure from earth as an unspeakably heavy loss, not only because
his sunny, cheerful nature and brilliant intellect brightened the souls
of his friends; not only because he poured generously from the
overflowing cornucopia of his rich knowledge precious gifts to those with
whom he stood in intellectual relations, but above all because of the
loving heart which beamed through his clear eyes, and enabled him to
share the joys and sorrows of others, and enter into their thoughts and
feelings.
To my life's end I shall not forget that during the last few years,
himself physically disabled and overburdened by the duties imposed by the
office of professor and counsellor of the Consistory, he so often found
his way to me, a still greater invalid. The hours he then permitted me
to spend in animated conversation with him are among those which,
according to old Horace, whom he know so thoroughly and loved so well,
must be numbered among the 'good ones'. I have done so, and whenever I
gratefully recall them, in my ear rings my friend's question:
"What of the story of the Exodus?"
After I had told him that in the midst of the desert, while following the
traces of the departing Hebrews, the idea had occurred to me of treating
their wanderings in the form of a romance, he expressed his approval in
the eager, enthusiastic manner natural to him. When I finally entered
farther into the details of the sketch outlined on the back of a camel,
he never ceased to encourage me, though he thoroughly understood my
scruples and fully appreciated the difficulties which attended the
fulfilment of my task.
So in a certain degree this book is his, and the inability to offer it
to the living man and hear his acute judgment is one of the griefs which
render it hard to reconcile oneself to the advancing years which in other
respects bring many a joy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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