When the work was done,—­for, to my own astonishment, it really came to an end,—­I reflected, that from former years many poems were extant, which did not even now appear to me utterly despicable, and which, if written together in the same size with “Joseph,” would make a very neat quarto, to which the title “Miscellaneous Poems” might be given.  I was pleased with this, as it gave me an opportunity of quietly imitating well-known and celebrated authors.  I had composed a good number of so-called Anacreontic poems, which, on account of the convenience of the metre, and the lightness of the subject, flowed forth readily enough.  But these I could not well take, as they were not in rhyme; and my desire before all things was to show my father something that would please him.  So much the more, therefore, did the spiritual odes seem suitable, which I had very zealously attempted in imitation of the “Last Judgment” of Elias Schlegel.  One of these, written to celebrate the descent of Christ into hell, received much applause from my parents and friends, and had the good fortune to please myself for some years afterwards.  The so-called texts of the Sunday church-music, which were always to be had printed, I studied with diligence.  They were, indeed, very weak; and I could well believe that my verses, of which I had composed many in the prescribed manner, were equally worthy of being set to music, and performed for the edification of the congregation.  These, and many like them, I had for more than a year before copied with my own hand; because through this private exercise I was released from the copies of the writing-master.  Now all were corrected and put in order, and no great persuasion was needed to have them neatly copied by the young man who was so fond of writing.  I hastened with them to the book-binder:  and when, very soon after, I handed the nice-looking volume to my father, he encouraged me with peculiar satisfaction to furnish a similar quarto every year; which he did with the greater conviction, as I had produced the whole in my spare moments alone.

Another circumstance increased my tendency to these theological, or, rather, biblical, studies.  The senior of the ministry, John Philip Fresenius, a mild man, of handsome, agreeable appearance, who was respected by his congregation and the whole city as an exemplary pastor and good preacher, but who, because he stood forth against the Herrnhueters, was not in the best odor with the peculiarly pious; while, on the other hand, he had made himself famous, and almost sacred, with the multitude, by the conversion of a free-thinking general who had been mortally wounded,—­this man died; and his successor, Plitt, a tall, handsome, dignified man, who brought from his chair (he had been a professor in Marburg) the gift of teaching rather than of edifying, immediately announced a sort of religious course, to which his sermons were to be devoted in a certain methodical connection.