Of Richter's last decade two books only call for notice here, _Truth about Jean Paul's Life_, a fragment of autobiography written in 1819, and _The Comet_, a novel, also unfinished, published at intervals from 1820 to 1822. Hitherto, said Richter of _The Comet_, he had paid too great deference to rule, "like a child born curled and forthwith stretched on a swathing cushion." Now, in his maturity, he will, he says, let himself go; and a wild tale he makes of it, exuberant in fancy, rich in comedy, unbridled in humor. The Autobiography extends only to Schwarzenbach and his confirmation, but of all his writings it has perhaps the greatest charm. Richter's last years were clouded by disease, mental and physical, and by the death of his son Max. A few weeks before his own death he arranged for an edition of his complete works, for which he was to receive 35,000 thaler ($26,000). For this he sought a special privilege, copyright being then very imperfect in Germany, on the ground that in all his works not one line could be found to offend religion or virtue. He died on November 14, 1825. On the evening of November 17 was the funeral. Civil and military, state and city officials took part in it. On the bier was borne the unfinished manuscript of _Selina_, an essay on immortality. Sixty students with lighted torches escorted the procession. Other students bore, displayed, _Levana_ and the _Introduction to Esthetics_. Sixteen years after Richter's death the King of Bavaria erected a statue to him in Bayreuth. But his most enduring monument had already long been raised in the funeral oration by Ludwig Börne at Frankfurt. "A Star has set," said the orator, "and the eye of this century will close before it rises again, for bright genius moves in wide orbits and our distant descendants will be first again to bid glad welcome to that from which their fathers have taken sad leave. * * * We shall mourn for him whom we have lost and for those others who have not lost him, for he has not lived for all. Yet a time will come when he shall be born for all and all will lament him. But he will stand patient on the threshold of the twentieth century and wait smiling till his creeping people shall come to join him." QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING[1] From _The Life of Quintus Fixlein_ (1796) By JEAN PAUL TRANSLATED BY T. CARLYLE