The symbolic, or perhaps more accurately, non-numerical significance of numbers has long been an accepted factor in the religion and superstition of the western world; in particular, medieval man in his search for the divine order underlying all manifestations of the external world possessed a natural propensity for numerological interpretation. It is, therefore, no surprise to find in the literature of the Middle Ages constant reference to, and interpretation of, numbers — numbers which in many cases even today have about them a sinister, friendly, or sanctified aura. The meaning of numbers and their manner of employment vary, however, greatly in different forms of writing and it is thus important to bear in mind the advice of Hopper, that although symbolic numbers are profusely scattered through the pages of nearly all medieval writings, it is necessary to distinguish, especially in secular and unscientific literature, between the philosophical or scientific use of number, the symbolic, the imitative, and the merely naïve preference for certain commonly used numbers.’ Hopper was concerned in his work with the general meaning of numbers as they appeared in medieval writings of all kinds and not with literature per se, where, at least in Germany, a further distinction must be made on the basis of recent scholarship. For considerable interest has been evinced in recent years in the structure of medieval German literature and in particular in the arithmetically symmetrical plans which seem to have been drawn up by poets as a framework for their composition. Whilst, therefore, the use of numbers in religious and edifying works may justifiably be viewed as deriving from Christian symbolism and is therefore to be distinguished on the one hand from the scientific use of number and on the other from the ‘naïve preference for certain commonly used numbers,’ a further category must be established in that the planned arithmetical form of medieval secular literature may have in fact no symbolic meaning. To take only a few simple examples: the Goldene Schmiede of Konrad von Würzburg consists of 1,000 couplets or the perfect number 10 raised to the power of the Trinity. Gottfried's Tristan on the other hand was possibly calculated to cover 25,000 lines, by which, presumably, nothing is symbolised. The fact that Otfried writes: ‘Wangta zuein thero jaro fiarzug ni was' and ‘Thria stunton finfzug ouh thri,’ for 38 and 153 respectively, is due to the innate significance of these numbers and not to the exigencies of versification. There is no significance, however, in the Nibelungenlied's ‘Sehs unt ahzec türne,’ ‘sehs unt ahzec wip,’ and ‘Sehs unt ahzec vrouwen’ (404.1, 525.1, 572.1). Similarly, the use of the seven-line stanza may be conditioned by the symbolic significance of the number seven, but the same is presumably not the case with Wolfram's groups of thirty lines. More important perhaps than these examples: the numerical structure of the Annolied has a specific meaning in relation to the religious content of the work, but there is no meaning inherent in the symmetrical line and stanza groups in the works of Gottfried, Wolfram, and Hartmann.