One question, notwithstanding, I dare not leave unanswered, the question of how it is possible that the Prince of Homburg, in view of its great literary importance and its abundant vitality, could up to this time have met with so very little success on the stage? The answer is easy. The great public, who in general suppose the poetical to lie in that which is opposed to real life, has a strange conception of dramatic heroism, and the greater part of the critics who should instruct the public unfortunately share the same opinion. Because, in most cases, the hero is entirely finished and manufactured to the last filament when he makes his appearance in the drama, it is taken for granted that it must be so under all circumstances. Therefore it follows that the poet fares badly when, instead of leaving the development exclusively to the action, he occasionally transfers it in part to the principal character, and thus does not arouse the sympathy which he needs for his hero until the end of the piece, instead of doing so in the very beginning. For we immediately take for granted, even when we already know the poet, that he has made a mistake, that he is growing enthusiastic over something imperfect, immature, immoral, and that he demands of us to be enthusiastic with him. That puts us out of humor, we do not await the end, and even when we do, and become aware of his real intention, we only partly abandon our former prejudice. This has already been proved on various occasions. Kleist, in his _Prince of Homburg_, moreover, touched what in his day was a most sensitive spot--when Theodor Körner made his characters run a race to see who could die first. Fear of death and a hero! That was really going too far! It was an insult to every ensign "You ask a piece of bread and butter of me! I will not give you that! But my life you may have with pleasure!" RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD (1846-1854) By FRIEDRICH HEBBEL TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING At the time of my birth my father possessed a small house, with a garden adjoining, in which stood some fruit trees; in particular one very productive pear-tree. In the house there were three dwellings, the most pleasant and roomy of which we occupied; its principal advantage consisted in the fact that it was situated on the sunny side. The other two were rented. The one opposite to us was inhabited by an old mason, Claus Ohl, and his little stooping wife, and the third, to which a back-entrance through the garden gave access, by the family of a day laborer. The tenants never changed, and for us children they belonged to the house, just like Father and Mother, from whom indeed, as regards loving attentions bestowed upon us, they differed but little, if at all.