The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim

J Collyer

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781315478111
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

The best-known novel of Sophie von La Roche, a German 18th-century woman writer. The plot reflects typical 18th-century concerns: the value of sentiment and the importance of virtue in attaining a good life. The publication of this novel reflects a recent revival of interest in the author.

CONTENTS

The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim

Note on the Translation

Volume I

Volume II

Appendix

The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim

Volume I

To D.F.G.R.V.¹

Do not be dismayed, my dear friend, to receive a printed copy of your Sternheim, instead of the manuscript you were expecting. The full extent of my betrayal of your confidence is thus instantly revealed, and your initial feeling must be that I have acted quite irresponsibly. Under the sacred seal of friendship, you entrusted to me a work of your imagination and sentiments, written solely for your own diversion and entertainment. ‘I am sending it to you’, you wrote, ‘in order to obtain your opinion of my sentiments; of the aspect in which I am disposed to judge the affairs of human life and of the reflections prompted by the vivid impressions of my heart. I ask you to correct me where you think I am in error. You are acquainted with the circumstances that have led me to devote to this restful diversion some of the few hours remaining to me after the performance of my essential duties. You know too that the ideas which I have sought to express in my descriptions of the character and actions of Sophia Sternheim and her parents have always been close to my heart; and what better occupation for the heart than the objects of its profoundest affections! There have been moment when this occupation became an inner need for me. Imperceptibly, the little work came into being, although I began and continued it without knowing whether I would ever be able to conclude it. You will perceive its imperfections as clearly as I feel them. But then, I tell myself, it is intended only for you and me and – if, as I hope, the principles governing the thoughts and actions of this daughter of my musings meet with your approval – for our children. Your friend can imagine no greater satisfaction and joy than that they, in reading it, might be strengthened in virtuous sentiment and in true, general and active goodness and honesty.’

These were the words with which you committed your Sternheim into my care. But now, my dear friend, let us see whether I have abused your confidence. Let us see whether I am truly guilty of a crime in having failed to resist my desire to present to all the virtuous mothers and all the charming young daughters of our nation a work which seemed destined to promote the cause of wisdom and virtue – the sole true mark of humanity, the one source of true happiness – among the members of your sex and even mine.

There is no need to apprise you of the general benefits that meritorious writings of the type of your Sternheim are capable of disseminating. All reasonable people are of one mind on this point and, after all that has been said by Richardson, Fielding and so many others, there could be little merit in pleading the cause of a truth that no one doubts. But it is equally certain that our nation is still by no means lavishily endowed with natives works of this kind, which are at once diverting and capable of promoting the love of virtue. Are these two considerations not enough to justify my undertaking? You will, I hope, be more disposed to share my opinion, or at least to forgive me more readily, when I have revealed to you now the idea of making an author of you first arose.

With the dispassion with which has become familiar to you over the years, 1 sat down to read your manuscript. I must say that the unusual character which you give to your heroine’s mother at the very beginning of the work tended rather to prepossess me against the work than for it. But I read on, and all my dry philosophy, the late issue of a long study of humanity and its boundless follies, began to crumble before the truth and beauty of your moral descriptions. My heart warmed to your story, and I began to love your Sternheim, his wife, his daughter and even his vicar – one of the worthiest clergymen I have ever encountered. Numerous little dissonances occasioned by the differences between my own convictions and your Sternheim’s strange, at times almost enthusiastic, mode of thought were resolved in the most agreeable unison of her principles, feelings and actions with my soul’s liveliest convictions and most elevated sentiments. In a hundred places I found myself exclaiming: may my daughters learn to think and act like Sophia Sternheim! May Heaven grant me the supreme joy of seeing imprinted on their souls this unadorned candour; this invariable goodness; this melting susceptibility to truth and beauty; this inner disposition to practical virtue; this undissembled piety which, far from tainting with gloom the beauty and nobility of the soul, is its best and loveliest virtue; this tender, sympathetic and charitable heart; this art of considering in a healthy and genuine manner all the objects of life, and of setting a just value on happiness, reputation and pleasure – in a word: may all the qualities of heart and mind which I admire in this beautiful moral portrait be united in these delightful beings who, though still in their infancy, are the sweetest joy of my present and the dearest hope of my days to come!

My first thought now was to commission a copy of your manuscript which I intended to present to our little Sophia (for you are so kind as to regard her as yours too) when she is older. Picture to yourself my enchantment at the idea that this might also be the means of propagating in our children all the sentiments of a friendship refined to purity by the trials and tests of long acquaintance! From the contemplation of this pleasant prospect it was but a short step to the reflection that, at this very moment, through the length and breadth of our German provinces, there must be countless mothers and fathers harbouring similar wishes for the future well-being of children just as promising and just as tenderly loved as ours! Would I not be doing them a most agreeable service in permitting them to share in a benefit that could lose nothing in being communicated to others? Would not the good effects of the virtuous example of the Sternheim family thereby become available to all? And is it not our duty to strive, as far as it lies within our powers, to extend the scope of our beneficence? And consider how many noble-minded persons would, by this means, become acquainted with the inestimable mind and heart of my friend, and bless her memory long after she and I have ceased to be! – Tell me, my friend, you who for so long have known a heart that has remained true to itself through all the inner and outer transformations wrought by the passage of years – how could I have resisted such a prospect? I immediately resolved to have copies printed for all our male and female friends, and for all those who would be our friends, were they to enjoy our acqaintance. I held our contemporaries in such high esteem that I assumed that many copies would be required, and I therefore dispatched my fair copy to my friend Reich,² requesting him to print as many as he considered appropriate.

But no! The matter was not concluded quite as swiftly as this. Amidst all the ardour of my heart, my mind retained a coolness sufficient to enable me to consider everything apt to deter me from executing my plan. Never, so far as I am aware, have I allowed my prepossession for those whom I love to blind me to their shortcomings. You know this aspect of my character and are as little capable of expecting or even wishing for flattery as I of arguing against my true convictions. Considered as a work of the imagination, as a literary composition, or simply as a piece of German writing, your Sternheim, for all its charm, contains faults which will not escape the notice of the petty fault-finders. However, these are not the people whom I fear most on your behalf. The professional critics, on the other hand, and the odious connoiseurs from the ranks of the great world – let me confess, my friend, that I am not entirely unconcerned at the thought of being guilty of exposing your Sternheim to the judgement of people of such divergent ways of thinking. But let me tell you how I contrived to put my mind at ease.

Touching such faults or infelicities of form and style as may be censured in your work, the critics will be dealing only with me. You, my friend, had no intention either of writing for the world at large or of creating a work of art. You are, I know, thoroughly acquainted with such writings of the most distinguished authors of the various languages as can be read without the possession of formal learning. You were, however, ever wont to attend, less to the formal beauties and perfections of a work, than to the moral values of its content; and this consideration alone would always have made you dismiss the thought of writing for the public at large. It therefore fell to me, the unauthorized publisher of your manuscript, to remedy such faults as I might expect, if not to offend the critic, then at least to cause him to desire their absence. But when I speak of critics of art I have in mind persons of refined taste and mature judgement; men unlikely to be offended by the small blemishes adhering to a beautiful work, and withal too fair-minded to demand of the spontaneous fruit of pure nature the same perfections as the laboriously tended product of the cultivator’s art (though, in point of taste, the former not infrequently excels the latter). Discerning critics of this kind will, unless I am much deceived, be inclined to share my opinion that the moral narrative, with its concern to execute an interesting and instructive character study, as opposed to a tale of elaborate intrigues and complicated developments, and in which the diversion and entertainment of the reader is subordinated to the primary purpose of moral instruction, may all the more readily dispense with artistic form where the work possesses special inner beauties of mind and heart, which compensate us for the absence of a plot elaborated in accordance with established rules, and indeed for the lack of everything that might pass under the heading of authorial art.

Unless I am very much mistaken, these same critics will also discover in the style of Sophia Sternheim a certain originality of image and expression; and in the latter a felicitous energy and aptness – often enough in passages with which a strict grammarian would be least satisfied – which they will readily accept as the just reward of their forbearance in the face of moments of stylistic carelessness, and the use of uncommon turns of phrase and figures of speech. Their tolerance will doubtless extend to the lack of perfectly rounded and polished phrases – a shortcoming I could hardly have remedied without detriment to what I consider to be the essential beauty of my friend’s style. They will also perceive that although it is everywhere evident that our heroine has enjoyed a most careful education, her particular tastes, as well as her manner of thinking, speaking and acting, owe more to nature, personal experience and individual observation than to formal instruction and the emulation of established models. It is for precisely this reason that she so often feels and acts differently from other persons of her class; that the unusual and extraordinary quality of her character and, above all, the unique cast of her imagination will necessarily influence the manner in which she expresses her feelings and articulates her thoughts; that for each original thought she immediately invents a singular expression, whose vigorous strength and truth are perfectly adequate to the intuitive ideas which are the well-spring of her reflections. And will our critics not agree with me that precisely this completely achieved individualization of our heroine’s character is one of the rare merits of this work; and moreover one that is far more indebted to nature than to art? In short, my regard for the finer sensibilities of our critics is such that I am confident that they will judge the faults of which I have spoken to be interwoven with so many features of outstanding beauty and merit that they would certainly take it amiss, were I to try to exempt my friend from criticism on the grounds that women are not professional writers.

Have we then perhaps more to fear from the refined and exacting tastes of sophisticated society than from the professional critics? Here I must own that our heroine’s singularity, her enthusiasm for moral beauty, her strange ideas and moods, her rather wilful predilection for English lords and everything originating in their country and, to make matters worse, the permanent conflict between her feelings, actions and opinions and the tastes, morals and customs of the great world seem unlikely to win her many friends there. All the same, I am reluctant to abandon my hope that her very originality as a phenomenon might enable her to make substantial conquests as a charming eccentric. Indeed, for all that the peculiarities of her disposition appear at times to border on excess, or on what some would call pedantry, she is and will remain a charming creature. If her story may be regarded as a satire on court life and the great world in general, it is abundantly clear that our heroine’s perception of the virtues and weaknesses of those who move in these glittering circles could hardly be more tolerant or fair. The reader can see that she speaks of matters with which she is intimately acquainted, and that neither her heart nor her understanding is to blame if she fails to comprehend, and is herself incomprehensible to, a world in which art has entirely supplanted nature.

Forgive me, my friend, for prattling for so long on a point on which your mind should be at ease. There are persons whose capacity to please is never in doubt, and I should be most grievously mistaken, were your heroine not of that class. Her many talents and gifts – the naive beauty of her mind, her purity and boundless goodness of heart, the fine discrimination of her taste, the truth of her judgement, the perspicacity of her observations, the vividness of her imagination and the harmony of her discourse with her thoughts and feelings – are surety that, for all her little shortcomings, she will not fail to delight all whom Heaven has blessed with a healthy reason and a sensible heart. And whom else do we strive to please? – However, our heroine’s fondest desire is free from all self-regard: she wishes to do good and to render herself useful. And indeed she shall do good and, in doing good, justify my boldness in sending her into the world without the knowledge and permission of her dear creator. I am etc.

The Editor³

The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim

My complying with your desire in committing to paper the events of Lady Sternheim’s life, scarce entitles me to your thanks. You know I had the happiness of being brought up with that excellent lady, and believe me, it gives me a very sensible pleasure, that I have an opportunity of employing myself in a task that will recall to my mind the sacred remembrance of the virtues and endowments of a person who is an honour to our sex, and even to human nature.

The father of my dear Lady Sidney was Colonel Sternheim, the only son of a professor at W. who had given him an excellent education. He was early distinguished by his noble sentiments and goodness of heart. At the university he contracted an intimacy with the young Baron P. whom he afterwards accompanied in his travels, and for whom he had such an affection, that he entered with him into the army. By his conversation and example the baron, whose mind was naturally haughty and impetuous, was humanized, and he became of so mild and engaging a disposition, that his parents almost idolized the young gentleman who had thus reclaimed their darling son. An unforeseen event separated them: the decease of the baron’s elder brother obliged him to quit the service, and apply himself to the management of his estate. Meanwhile Sternheim who enjoyed the highest esteem of the officers and soldiers, continuing in the service, rose to the rank of colonel and the prince ennobled him. Merit and not fortune has preferred you, said the general, in the presence of many persons of distinction when he delivered him, in the name of his sovereign, his commission and patent of nobility. He afterwards worthily maintained the reputation he had acquired, and all his following campaigns served to give him opportunities of exerting his valour, his greatness of soul and his humanity.

On the return of peace, his first wish was to see his intimate friend with whom he had constantly corresponded. His heart knew of no other connexion; for his father, whom he had lost long before, being a foreigner at W. had left there no relations of his son. Colonel Sternheim accordingly went to P. there to enjoy the tranquil delights of friendship. Baron P. his friend had espoused a very amiable lady, and lived with his mother and two sisters at a very agreeable seat left him by his father, where he was frequently visited by the most distinguished families in the neighbourhood, and where he dedicated his more retired hours to reading and rural improvements. Sometimes they had little concerts, the younger sister playing on the spinnet, and the elder on the lute, which the baron and some of his retinue accompanied with their voices.

The elder sister’s disposition, however, threw a damp on their happiness. She was the only child of Baron P. by Lady Watson, his first wife, whom he married while he was envoy in England. This young lady, with all the endearing gentleness of an English woman, seemed likewise to have inherited from her mother an air of melancholy. A settled gravity had spread itself over her countenance. She delighted in retirement, and she employed herself in reading the choicest books; yet did not neglect conversing with the family, when they were free from company.

Her brother, the baron, being in fear of her health, neglected nothing that could divert her, or enable him to discover the cause of her settled dejection. Sometimes he conjured her to open her heart to him, her affectionate brother; this she would return with a serious look, thank him for his concern and with tears entreat him to let her secret remain in her own bosom, and only continue to love her. This increased his uneasiness; he apprehended that some false step might be the source from whence this melancholy sprang; but though he kept a most watchful eye over all her actions, he could not discover the least trace that could countenance any such apprehension. She was always under his or her mother’s eye; conversed only with the family, and avoided all kind of mixed intercourse. Once she so far prevailed with herself as to come into company, and from her cheerfulness on this occasion, the family h...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Introduction
• Chronology
• Select Bibliography
• The History of Lady Sophia Sternheim
• Notes to text