Even the Virgin Mary has become above all things an active, warlike, and resourceful woman, more like Frau Salander in Keller's last novel than the far-off, heavenly Virgin; and one has the feeling that it is not without regret that she refrains from the worldly doings of Beatrix or Bertrade. But highest of all is represented a joyous piety, at once declaring for and surrendering the world, represented, more realistically in "Dorothea's Flower-Basket," and more symbolically in the wonderful "Legend of the Dance," the crown of the collection; for this last tale contains the writer's own confession veiled in the most recondite allegory. As the Muses' singing, so splendid and upbuilding to earlier generations, sounded "dismal, almost defiant and harsh, yet so wistful and mournful," so, in the heaven of the present day as Gottfried Keller built it up for himself, the saints' devout hymn of praise to the laud and honour of the Most Holy Trinity sounds gloomy and melancholy, even defiant. And Keller retorts to it with his own song: To thee, thou wondrous World, Thou beauty without end, I also have my vows of love Upon this parchment penned. It is this world which is the source of his joys and sorrows. The Devil is introduced as he is on earth: "A silly devil is the rogue, for he is cheated in the end!" And just because Keller reconquers this world whole and entire, full of strange adventures and transformations, for the earth and human understanding, he revels merrily here, because it is here, in the luxuriant opulence of his imaginings great and small, from that Heavenly concerto of the Muses to the nose-pigtails of the doughty knight. His language plays in a kindly, roguish way with the human blunders of the saintly beings who take a loving and loveable human child for a very "Devil's tit-bit," yet find it offered to themselves as a savoury "pasty." His style ranges from the playful picture of the rococo angel-minstrels to the serious painting of the knight riding up to the church with his eight noble sons; and, despite the difference of his conception of life, his sympathies find something congenial in Dorothea's Christian heroism. For these reasons, Keller in this Legendary, most wisely restricted in number, and grouped in most masterly fashion, has surpassed all those who have ventured on to the same enticing ground since him. Even Anatole France equals him but seldom; for Keller has sought to overcome piety with another piety, with that "world-piety" of which Goethe is our greatest prophet. RICHARD M. MEYER. Berlin, 27/1/11. SEVEN LEGENDS PREFACE