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 PmNTCOINU.S.A 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026194799 
 
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 l6 f/ii 
 
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 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1915 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 GOETHE, the man, the poet, and the author, has been de- 
 scribed over and over. His works have been translated, 
 interpreted, discussed, and it seems almost redundant to return to 
 him again. And yet we venture to offer a book on Goethe. Certain 
 very important phases in Goethe's life appear to have been neglected. 
 Most of his greatest works have been translated into English, a 
 few of them, for instance "Faust," in many different versions, but 
 there are some of his most characteristic poems of which no one has 
 ever ventured to offer a translation, and it is precisely these poems 
 that contain the most thoughtful verses ever written by this great 
 poet, prominent in the literature not only of the German fatherland 
 but of the whole world. 
 
 We offer this presentation of Goethe with the special purpose 
 in view of bringing out those features of his life which characterize 
 him as a thinker or, perhaps better, as a philosopher. 
 
 Though Goethe can not be called a philosopher proper, though 
 he had a positive aversion to philosophy as a specialized study, he 
 may fairly well be called a philosopher in the broad sense of the 
 term. He was a thinking man who had a definite world-conception 
 which dominated not only his particular life but also his poetry. 
 
 Some of the philosophical poems of Goethe are rather difficult 
 to understand and have therefore not become as well known as those 
 other poems of his which were written in a lighter vein. Neverthe- 
 less they are by no means unintelligible to the general reader and 
 possess the advantage of becoming more interesting as soon as their 
 real significance has been grasped. P. C. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 List of Illustrations vii 
 
 The Life of Goethe 1 
 
 His Relation to Women 66 
 
 Goethe's Personality 143 
 
 The Religion of Goethe 177 
 
 Goethe's Philosophy 222 
 
 Literature and Criticism 261 
 
 The Significance of "Faust" 282 
 
 Miscellaneous Epigrams and Poems 327 
 
 Index 347 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Goethe in his Last Year, 1832. By C. A. Schwerdgeburth. (Frontispiece.) 
 
 Horoscope of Goethe. Cast by A. J. Pearce 2 
 
 Goethe's Grandfather, Schultheiss Textor. After a painting by A. Scheppen 3 
 Goethe's Grandmother, Frau Anna Margaretha Textor. Artist unknown . . 4 
 
 The Goethe Homestead in Artern on the Unstrut 5 
 
 The Textor Homestead 6 
 
 The Goethe House at Frankfort as it Looked in Goethe's Childhood. Drawn 
 
 by E. Biichner 7 
 
 Frangois de Theas, Count of Thorane 8 
 
 The Rahmhof. Where the French Theater at Frankfort was established. . . 9 
 
 Johann Adam Horn. After a drawing by Goethe 10 
 
 Burning his Youthful Productions 12 
 
 Friederike Elisabeth Oeser. Etched by Banse in 1777 from a painting by 
 
 her father, Prof. Adam Friedrich Oeser 13 
 
 Discussing Religious Questions with the Dresden Shoemaker 14 
 
 Bird's Eye View of Strassburg. From an old hymn-book 16 
 
 Jacob Michael Reinhold Lenz. After a drawing by Pfenninger in Lavater's 
 
 Collection 17 
 
 Johann Heinrich Jung- Stilling. By H. Lips, 1801 18 
 
 Goethe's Residence when a Student. On the Old Fish Market in Strass- 
 burg 19 
 
 Maria Caroline Flachsland. Afterwards Frau Herder 20 
 
 Johann Heinrich Merck 21 
 
 View of Wetzlar from the South 22 
 
 Carl Wilhelm Jerusalem as a Child. Drawing formerly in the possession of 
 
 Georg Kestner of Dresden, grandson of Frau Charlotte Kestner. 
 
 Now in the Goethe Museum of Weimar 23 
 
 Johann Christian Kestner. After a lithograph of J. Giere from a painting 
 
 in the possession of Georg Kestner 24 
 
 Werther's.Lotta. By Kaulbach 25 
 
 Christoph Friedrich Nicolai. Haid's engraving after Chodowiecki 26 
 
 Joys of Young Werther. Chodowiecki's vignette on the title page of Nico- 
 
 lai's satire 27 
 
 Johann Bernhard Basedow 29 
 
 Karl Ludwig von Knebel. Drawn by Schmeller, 1824 30 
 
 Christian, Count Stolberg. After a painting by Grdger 31 
 
 Friedrich Leopold, Count Stolberg. After a painting by Rincklacke 31 
 
Vlll GOETHE. 
 
 PAGI 
 
 Christoph Martin Wieland •'2 
 
 Karl August, Duke of Saxe Weimar. Drawing from life by Lips, 1780 ... 34 
 
 Goethe's Little Country House. After a drawing by O. Wagner, 1827 35 
 
 Goethe's Coat of Arms ■ 36 
 
 View of St. Peters. Sketched by Goethe 39 
 
 Goethe in Rome. Drawing by Tischbein, 1787 40 
 
 Goethe in the Campagna at Rome. Painting by Tischbein 41 
 
 Maddalena Riggi. Painting by Angelica Kauiimann 42 
 
 Christian August Vulpius 43 
 
 August von Goethe. Crayon drawing by Schmeller r 44 
 
 Old Theater in Weimar 45 
 
 Schiller and Goethe Ridiculed 46 
 
 Franz Schubert 47 
 
 Karl Loewe 48 
 
 The Goethe Table in Schiller's Garden. Where the friends often conversed 
 
 together SO 
 
 Goethe Contemplating Schiller's Skull. Sculpture by Eberlein 51 
 
 Goethe in 1800. Crayon by F. Bury 52 
 
 Christiana Vulpius and August von Goethe. Watercolor by Heinrich Meyer 53 
 
 Bettina von Arnim. At an advanced age 54 
 
 Johann Peter Eckermann. Original in the Goethe Museum at Weimar... 58 
 Goethe Dictating to Eckermann. After an oil painting by J. J. Schmeller 
 
 in 1831 59 
 
 Goethe's Son August. Medallion by Thorwaldsen 62 
 
 "More Light." Painting by F. Fleischer in the Goethe Museum at Weimar 63 
 
 Goethe's Grandchildren. Drawing by Arendswald, 1836 64 
 
 Goethe in his Thirtieth Year. Painted by G. O. May, 1779 67 
 
 Goethe's Mother, Frau Aja. After a picture in the possession of Solomon 
 
 Hirzel 68 
 
 Goethe's Father. After a copper engraving in Lavater's Physio gnomische 
 
 Fragmente, 1777 69 
 
 The Goethe Family of Frankfort. Painted by J. C. Seekatz in 1762 70 
 
 The Room of Frau Rath Goethe. Drawing by E. Biichner 71 
 
 Gretchen. By Kaulbach 75 
 
 The Poet's Sister. Drawn by Goethe about 1770. From the portfolio Juve- 
 nilia 77 
 
 Cornelia, Goethe's Sister ! . 78 
 
 Johann Georg Schlosser. Medallion by Becker 80 
 
 Charitas Meixner. After an oil painting 81 
 
 Betty Jacobi, nee von Clermont 82 
 
 Johanna Fahlmer in Old Age 82 
 
 Kitty Schonkopf 83 
 
 Kaulbach's Brion Family 85 
 
 Friederike's Home, the Parsonage at Sesenheim. After an oil painting in 
 the possession of A. Storber, now in the Preie Deutsche Hochstift 
 
 at Frankfort on the Main 86 
 
 Falk's Friederike Portrait. Found among Lenz's papers 87 
 
 Friederike's Autograph 88 
 
 The Parsonage at Sesenheim. Drawing by Goethe 89 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. ix 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Goethe Parting from Friederike. By Eugen Klimsch 90 
 
 Sesenheim gj 
 
 Susanna von Klettenberg in her Forty-fourth Year. In the Goethe Mu- 
 seum at Weimar 97 
 
 Charlotte Sophie Henriette Buff. Redrawn from a pastel 99 
 
 The Deutsche Haus, Showing the Windows of Charlotte's Room 100 
 
 Charlotte Buff's Room in the Deutsche Haus at Wetzlar 100 
 
 Frau Sophie von La Roche 101 
 
 Frau IMaximiliana Brentano. Daughter of Sophie von La Roche and 
 
 mother of Bettina von Arnim 102 
 
 Anna Elisabeth Schonemann : Goethe's Lili 103 
 
 Lili's Menagerie. By Kaulbach 104 
 
 Barbara Schulthess. Painting by Tischbein, 1781 106 
 
 Mignon in "Wilhelm Meister." By Kaulbach 107 
 
 Corona Schroter. By Anton Graff 109 
 
 Iphigenia and Orestes. By Georg Melchior Kraus 110 
 
 "The Fisher Maiden" Played in Tiefurt Park. By Georg Melchior Kraus 111 
 
 Corona Schroter. By Georg Melchior Kraus 112 
 
 Friedrich Hildebrand von Einsiedel. Drawing by Schmeller 113 
 
 Cupid Feeding a Nightingale 114 
 
 Amalia, Duchess Dowager of Saxe-Weimar. Painting by Angelica Kauff- 
 
 mann 116 
 
 Duchess Dowager Amalia in Advanced Years. Etching by Steinla, after 
 
 a painting by Jagemann 117 
 
 The Circle of the Duchess Amalia. Water color by Kraus, 1795 118 
 
 Castle Kochberg, Mansion on the Stein Estate. Drawn by Goethe 119 
 
 Friedrich Consfantin von Stein (called Fritz). Drawing by Schmeller, 
 
 about 1819 120 
 
 Christiana Vulpius 121 
 
 Christiana Waiting. Drawn from life by Goethe 122 
 
 Christiana Asleep. Drawn by Goethe in illustration of his poem 123 
 
 Frau Johanna Schopenhauer and her Daughter, Adele 125 
 
 Facsimile of the Handwriting of Goethe and Schopenhauer 126 
 
 Caroline von Heygendorf, nee Jagemann 128 
 
 Arthur Schopenhauer. Bust by Elisabet Ney 129 
 
 Ludwig Joachim von Arnim 130 
 
 Clemens Brentano 130 
 
 Bettina von Arnim, nee Brentano. Enlarged from a miniature by A. von 
 
 Achim Baerwalde 131 
 
 Minna Herzlieb 132 
 
 Frau Marianne von Willemer, nee Jung. Engraved by Doris Raab. 1814. 133 
 The Bridge Over the Main at Frankfort. Drawing in sepia by A. Radl, 
 presented to Goethe after his visit at the Willemer home, August 
 
 12-18, 1815 . , 134 
 
 Marianne von Willemer 135 
 
 Ottilie von Goethe, nee von Pogwisch. Crayon by H. Miiller about 1820. . 137 
 
 Ulrike von Levetzow. After a pastel miniature 138 
 
 Kolbe's Goethe Portrait 139 
 
 Frau Charlotte von Stein, nee Schardt. Drawn by herself, 1790 140 
 
X GOETHE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Frau Charlotte von Stein. Painting by H. Meyer, 1780 141 
 
 The Apollo Bust of Goethe. By A. Trippel 144 
 
 Goethe in his Eighty-third year. After an engraving by Schwerdgeburth 145 
 
 Karl Friedrich Zelter 148 
 
 The Young Poet, Drawn by Himself. From the portfolio Juvenilia ISO 
 
 The Watch Tower of Sachsenhausen on the Main Opposite Frankfort. 
 
 Drawing by Goethe contained in the portfolio Juvenilia ISl 
 
 The Church of St. Leonhard. Drawing by Goethe, 1764. From the port- 
 folio Juvenilia 152 
 
 An Etching by Goethe. From the portfolio Juvenilia 153 
 
 Goethe's Study. Drawn by O. Schultz after a photograph by L. Held . . . 156 
 
 Goethe's House in Weimar 157 
 
 Goethe's House in Weimar 158 
 
 Gottsched Rebukes his Servant 160 
 
 Johann Christoph Gottsched 161 
 
 C. F. Gellert 162 
 
 J. C. Gottsched 162 
 
 Christianus Fiirchtegott Gellert. Raid's mezzotint after the painting by 
 
 Anton Graff 163 
 
 Gellert's Lecture Room 164 
 
 Caricature of Goethe. By Daniel Maclise after a similar one by Thackeray 167 
 
 Beethoven in the Streets of Vienna. Sketch by J. P. Lyser 167 
 
 Duke Karl August and Goethe. Engraving by Schwerdgeburth 169 
 
 Johann Friedrich Cotta, Baron Cottendorf. Goethe's publisher and founder 
 
 of Die Horen 170 
 
 Goethe. By Rumpf 172 
 
 The Youthful Priest 181 
 
 Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi 186 
 
 Johann Kaspar Lavater. After a water color by H. Lips 194 
 
 Prometheus 200 
 
 Diana of the Ephesians 209 
 
 Goethe's Poem in the Hunter's Hut 217 
 
 Goethe on the Gickelhahn 218 
 
 The Hunter's Hut on the Gickelhahn near Ilmenau. After a photograph . 219 
 
 Leaf from Goethe's Gingo Tree 223 
 
 Lasst fahren kin (music) - 226 
 
 Friedrich Wilhelm Rieraer 235 
 
 Friedrich von Mueller. Drawing by Schmeller 236 
 
 Albrecht von Haller 250 
 
 A Contemporary Caricature 261 
 
 Johann Gottfried von Herder. After a crayon drawing from life by Burg 262 
 
 Maler Miiller. Engraving by Ludwig E. Grimm, 1816 263 
 
 Friedrich Maximilian Klinger. Drawing by Goethe, 1775 263 
 
 Friedrich Schiller. Drawing by Jagemann 264 
 
 The Young Goethe. Crayon by Johann Hieronymus Lips, 1791, in the 
 
 Freie deutsche Hochstift at Frankfort 265 
 
 August Wilhelm von Schlegel. Painting by Hoheneck 266 
 
 Ludwig Tieck. Painting by. Joseph Stieler 267 
 
 Heinrich Heine. Painting by Moritz Oppenheim ^70 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. xi 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Friedrich von Hardenberg (Novalis) 271 
 
 Karl Friedrich Bahrdt 275 
 
 Witches Celebrating Walpurgis Night. By Franz Simm 284 
 
 Pico di Mirandola 286 
 
 Faust Beholding the Emblem of the Macrocosm. After P. Rembrandt . . 288 
 
 Faust in his Study. By A. von Kreling ' 290 
 
 Mephistopheles and the Student. By A. Liezen-Mayer 292 
 
 Mephistopheles at the Door of Faust's Study. By A. Liezen-Mayer 294 
 
 Signing the Contract. By Franz Simm 295 
 
 Faust's Last Hours and Death 298 
 
 Conjuring the Devil 299 
 
 Studying Black Magic 299 
 
 Some Pleasantries of Black Magic. After Scheible's reproduction from 
 
 Widmann's "Faust" 299 
 
 Miracles and Conjuration. After Scheible's reproductions from Wid- 
 mann's "Faust." 299 
 
 Faust Conjuring Mephistopheles 300 
 
 The Legend of Theophilus 302 
 
 Gretchen in Prison. By Franz Simm 303 
 
 Satan Accusing Job. Fresco by Volterra in the Campo Santo at Pisa . . . 306 
 
 Mephistopheles Before the Lord. By Franz Simm 307 
 
 On the Wine Cask. By Franz Simm 313 
 
 Faust in Auerbach's Cellar. Fresco . . ; 314 
 
 The Riotous Students and Faust's Escape. After P. Cornelius 314 
 
 The Key 317 
 
 Wagner Preparing his Homunculus. By Franz Simm 318 
 
 Self-Satisfied. By Franz Simm 319 
 
 When in the Infinite Appeareth 330 
 
 Time Mows Roses 332 
 
 Many Cooks Will Spoil the Broth 333 
 
 Liegt dir Gestern klar und oifen (in Goethe's handwriting) 335 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 ^^INCE it is not our intention to add a new biography of 
 »^J^ Goethe to those which have already appeared, we will here 
 simply recapitulate for our readers in a few words the chief 
 events of Goethe's life, and point out the personages who at one 
 time or another played a part in it. In subsequent chapters we 
 shall supplement our meager sketch with quotations from Goethe's 
 autobiography of such passages as characterize the man, his 
 philosophical thoughts, his religious views, and his maxims on 
 the conduct of life. 
 
 Goethe was the first and only son of Johann Caspar Goethe, 
 a Frankfort magistrate with the title Counselor, and of his wife, 
 Catharine Elizabeth, nee Textor. The child was named Johann 
 Wolfgang, after his maternal grandfather Textor. 
 
 In his autobiography "Truth and Fiction,"^ the poet speaks 
 of his horoscope which he describes thus : 
 
 "On August 28, 1749, at midday as the clock was striking 
 twelve, I came into the world at Frankfort on the Main. The 
 position of the heavenly bodies was propitious : the sun stood in 
 the sign of the Virgin and culminated for the day; Jupiter and 
 Venus looked on the sun with a friendly eye and Mercury not 
 adversely, while Saturn and Mars remained indifferent ; the moon 
 alone, just full, exerted the power of its reflection all the more 
 as it had then reached its planetary hour. It was opposed, there- 
 fore, to my birth which could not be accomplished until this hour 
 was passed." 
 
 ' Throughout this work the quotations taken from Goethe's Autobiography 
 follow mostly the translation of John Oxenford, with occasional minor altera- 
 tions. Those taken from Faust are in Bayard Taylor's poetical version. All 
 the translations of other miscellaneous poetry have been made by the present 
 author, except where expressly credited to some one else. 
 
GOETHE. 
 
 Ralph Shirley, the editor of The Occult Review and an 
 astrologer by conviction, has investigated Goethe's horoscope 
 and points out that the poet's description is not quite accurate. 
 We reproduce Goethe's nativity as he publishes it,^ the planetary 
 positions being supplied by A. J. Pearce, and we will quote Mr. 
 Shirley's comments on the same as follows : 
 
 "Goethe was born under the sign of the Scorpion — the night 
 
 Jon^. 8 ^l~E 
 
 J.al. S'o-^A/ 
 
 HOROSCOPE OF GOETHE. 
 Cast by A. J. Pearce. 
 
 house of the planet Mars — as it is astrologically designated, 
 and his dominant influences were Saturn and the Sun. The 
 Sun is hyleg or life-giver in this horoscope owing to its merid- 
 ional position, and would have warranted the prediction -of a 
 long life in spite of certain constitutional drawbacks. 
 
 "The mythological Saturn has the reputation of devouring 
 
 ' The Occult Review, May, 1908, p. 2S7. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 his children at birth, and the fact that Goethe was born into the 
 world 'as dead' is more probably attributable to the closely 
 ascending position of the malefic planet than to the poet's rather 
 fanciful suggestion of the effect of the (proximate) full Moon 
 
 GOETHE'S GRANDFATHER, SCHULTHEISS TEXTOR. 
 After a painting by A. Scheppen. 
 
 "Fortunately for him Goethe was not left entirely to the 
 tender mercies of the planet Saturn, the Sun, Mercury and Venus 
 all being notably elevated in his horoscope, the Sun (as he in this 
 case correctly describes it) exactly culminating in the sign of 
 
4 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 the Virgin, and indicating thereby success and the 'favor of 
 princes.' Venus occupied the mid-heaven in close opposition to 
 Jupiter, a position which it hardly requires an astrologer to 
 interpret, in the light of the native's life.^ Mercury was posited 
 
 GOETHE'S GRANDMOTHER, FRAU ANNA MARGARETHA TEXTOR 
 
 Artist unknown. 
 
 in the ninth house, the house of rehgion, philosophy and science 
 — the mental trend, as one may say — in the ambitious sign Leo 
 
 ' The native is an astrological expression for the individual whose horos- 
 cope is under discussion. Saturn culminated in conjunction with Venus at 
 Lord Byron's birth. It was in conjunction with Jupiter at the birth of Lord 
 Beaconsfield and also of Lord Rosebery. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 5 
 
 and was more or less loosely opposed by the malefic Uranus which 
 holds rule in the third house, denoting 'brethren' and 'near neigh- 
 bors.' Mars, in its exaltation. Lord of the Ascendant and in 
 trine with the Sun, occupies the second house, and in spite of 
 its good aspects denies the accumulation of wealth. 
 
 "I do not think any astrologer worthy of the name could 
 have looked twice at Goethe's horoscope without forecasting a 
 
 THE GOETHE HOMESTEAD IN ARTERN ON THE UNSTRUT. 
 
 high position. and notable name. There are practically six planets 
 angular^ (if we include Mercury, which has quite recently cul- 
 minated). Jupiter occupies its own house (Pisces) and the 
 Moon, Mars and Uranus are in exaltation. The sign rising, 
 though a dangerous one, favors the attainment of fame and 
 notoriety. The closely ascending position of Saturn recalls the 
 observation of the eminent Frenchman on first seeing Goethe, 
 
 *To have many planets angular is considered one of fhe strongest testi- 
 monies of a notable name. The Sun and Moon are reckoned as planets 
 astrologically. 
 
GOETHE. 
 
 'C'est un homme qui a eu beaucoup de chagrins' It also accounts 
 for his periods of intense depression, his philosophic outlook and 
 the aloofness of his intellectual temperament, and, in spite of 
 his love of life (indicated by Venus culminating and Scorpio 
 rising), the intense seriousness which characterized him. 
 
 F?$|?Ml|ff«^ 
 
 THE TEXTOR HOMESTEAD. 
 
 "Saturn is par excellence the philosopher's planet. Mentally 
 it typifies deep thought and the serious point of view. Corre- 
 sponding to the Greek Kronos (Time) it rules all such things 
 as last and endure." 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 THE GOETHE HOUSE AT FRANKFORT AS IT LOOKED IN 
 
 GOETHE'S CHILDHOOD.- 
 
 Drawn by E. Biichner, 
 
8 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Goethe's father, born July 31, 1710, was the son of a tailor 
 of Mansfeld who had settled in Frankfort. He in his turn 
 was the son of a horseshoer, hailing from Artern on the Unstrut. 
 A picture is preserved of the home of Goethe's grandfather 
 in Artern on the Unstrut. It shows a very simple building, but 
 solidly constructed. The smithy appears to have been on the 
 ground floor, and the living rooms above it on the second floor 
 under the roof. 
 
 Goethe's mother, the daughter of Schultheiss (i. e., judge) 
 
 FRANCOIS DE THEAS, COUNT OF THORANE. 
 Original in possession of Count Sartoux in Mouans. 
 
 Johann Wolfgang Textor, was born in December, 1731. She 
 was married to the Counselor Goethe on August 20, 1748. 
 
 Goethe had only one sister, Cornelia, who was born two years 
 after him in December, 1750. A later chapter will treat of her 
 personality and the relations between the brother and sister.^ 
 
 During the Seven Years' War (1756 to 1763) young Wolf- 
 ' See pp. 77-81. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 9 
 
 gang was an ardent admirer of Frederick the Great. French 
 troops fighting against Prussia occupied Frankfort for some time, 
 and the boy learned much through contact with the French, 
 especially through Count Thorane, who was quartered in his 
 parents' home. 
 
 We call this French officer "Thorane" although his real name 
 was Francois de Theas, Comte de Thorane. In his signatures 
 the c was commonly misread for e, and even the regulations pub- 
 lished over his own name bear the wrong spelling "Thorane." 
 The mistake has been perpetuated in Goethe's work "Truth and 
 Fiction," and through Goethe it became the established spelling 
 
 THE RAHMHOF. 
 Where the French theater at Frankfort was estabhshed. 
 
 so that the correct name scarcely identifies the man. Incidentally 
 we will mention that Thorane did not die in the West Indies as 
 Goethe states, but returned to France and died there in 1794. 
 
 At the time of the French occupation young Goethe fre- 
 quently visited the French theater in Frankfort and made the 
 acquaintance of a French boy of his own age, the son of an 
 
 actress. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Goethe's jolliest comrade in Frankfort was a certain Johann 
 Adam Horn. Goethe mentions his merry temperament in "Truth 
 and Fiction" and characterizes him in these words: 
 
10 
 
 GOETHE 
 
 "To begin with, the name of our friend Horn gave occasion 
 for all sorts of jokes, and on account of his small figure he was 
 always called Hornchen, 'Little Horn.' He was, in fact, the 
 smallest in the company. Of a stout but pleasing form, with a 
 pug-nose and mouth somewhat pouting, a swarthy complexion 
 set off by little sparkling eyes, he always seemed to invite laugh- 
 ter. His little compact skull was thickly covered with curly 
 
 JOHANN ADAM HORN. 
 After a drawing by Goethe. 
 
 black hair; his beard was prematurely blue; and he would have 
 liked to let it grow, that, as a comic mask, he might always keep 
 the company laughing. For the rest, he was neat and nimble, 
 but insisted that he had bandy legs, which everybody granted, 
 since he was bent on having it so, but about which many a joke 
 arose; for, since he was in request as a very good dancer, he 
 reckoned it among the peculiarities of the fair sex, that they 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 11 
 
 always liked to see bandy legs on the floor. His cheerfulness 
 was indestructible, and his presence at every meeting indispen- 
 sable. We two kept more together because he was to follow me 
 to the university; and he well deserves that I should mention 
 him with all honor, as he clung to me for many years with in- 
 finite love, faithfulness, and patience." 
 
 Goethe wrote some poetry in this first period of his li-fe, but 
 most of it he did not deem worthy of preservation; and what we 
 have, the "Poetical Thoughts on the Descent of Jesus Christ into 
 Hell" (1765), is not very promising. 
 
 In the autumn of 1765 Goethe traveled to Leipsic where on 
 October 19 he was enrolled at the university. His father wanted 
 him to study law in order to enable him to hold a position like 
 himself in the mvinicipality of the free city of Frankfort, but 
 the young poet preferred the study of belles lettres, and went to 
 Leipsic with the intention of mapping out his course according 
 to his own inclinations. The professors to whom he made known 
 his purpose with all self-assurance discouraged him in his zeal 
 for a poetic career, and the result was a compromise by which he 
 was to hear lectures on philosophy and history of law and yet 
 was free to attend Gellert's course in the history of literature. 
 
 Among the circle of Goethe's friends was Behrisch, a dear 
 companion to whom he dedicated some odes, while Johann Georg 
 Schlosser, a man of distinction, afterwards became his brother- 
 in-law. Some of the professors and their families were very 
 kind to the young student, and Madame Bohme in particular, the 
 wife of the professor of history and public law, did much to 
 mold his taste, especially with regard to contemporary poetry of 
 which she was a merciless critic. Finally he became so unsettled 
 that, as he says in "Truth and Fiction," 
 
 "I was afraid to write down a rhyme, however spontaneously 
 it presented itself, or to read a poem, for I was fearful that it 
 might please me at the time, and that perhaps immediately after- 
 wards, like so much else, I should be forced to pronounce it bad." 
 
 He goes on to say: 
 
 "This uncertainty of taste and judgment disquieted me more 
 
12 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 and more every day, so that at last I fell into despair. I had 
 brought with me those of my youthful labors which I thought 
 the best, partly because I hoped to get some credit by them, 
 partly that I might be able to test my progress with greater cer- 
 tainty. . . .However, after some time and many struggles, I con- 
 ceived so great a contempt for my labors, begun and ended, that 
 one day I burnt up poetry and prose, plans, sketches, and proj- 
 
 BURNING HIS YOUTHFUL PRODUCTIONS. 
 
 acts, all together on the kitchen hearth, and threw our good old 
 landlady into no small fright and anxiety by the smoke which 
 filled the whole house." 
 
 The Director of the Academy of Arts, Adam Friedrich Oeser, 
 had a strong influence on Goethe's artistic taste. We must re- 
 gard it as a distinction for the young Goethe that he had ad- 
 mission to the family circle of Professor Oeser and became 
 
The LIFfi OF goEthe. 
 
 13 
 
 acquainted with the Frau Professor and their daughters. It was 
 to Fraulein Friederike EHsabeth Oeser that Goethe inscribed 
 the collection of songs which he wrote while in Leipsic. 
 
 In this period of his life Goethe wrote "The Whim of the 
 
 FRIEDERIKE ELISABETH OESER. 
 
 Etched by Banse in 1777 from a painting by her father, Prof. Adam 
 
 Friedrich Oeser. 
 
 Lover" (Die Laune des Verliehten) and "The Fellow Culprits" 
 {Die Mitschuldigen) , neither of which is worth reading, and in 
 Goethe's own interest they would have better been burned with 
 the rest of his youthful effusions; but his little love ditties {Leip- 
 
14 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 DISCUSSING RELIGIOUS QUESTIONS WITH THE DRESDEN 
 
 SHOEMAKER. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 15 
 
 siger Liederbiich, 1769) which date from this period indicate 
 that something better was to be expected of him in the future. 
 
 We must not forget to mention Goethe's excursion to Dres- 
 den which he undertook in order to acquaint himself with the 
 art treasures of the Saxon capital. It is characteristic of Goethe 
 that he always took an interest in original personalities, whether 
 of a high or lowly position in life. A fellow lodger who was 
 a student of theology at Leipsic had a friend in Dresden, a poor 
 cobbler whose letters exhibited a peculiar religious disposition 
 and good common sense based upon a serene conception of life. 
 To use Goethe's own words he was "a practical philosopher and 
 unconscious sage." Having arrived in Dresden Goethe visited 
 the pious cobbler and his wife, and at once made friends with 
 both of them by entering into their views of life. He stayed 
 with them during his sojourn in Dresden and describes vividly 
 the conversation with his religious friends. 
 
 The end of Goethe's stay in Leipsic was darkened by a serious 
 illness which began with a violent hemorrhage of the lungs. As 
 soon as he was able to make the journey he left the university, 
 August 28, 1768, for his home in Frankfort. 
 
 When he had entirely recovered from his illness, his father 
 decided to send him to the University of Strassburg. 
 
 At the end of the eighteenth century Strassburg was con- 
 siderably smaller than now, while its fortifications were^tnucji, 
 more extensive. They have fallen since the German occupation 
 in 187T Though the city belonged to France, the life of the 
 inhabitants was German in a marked degree. Only the govern- 
 ment was French, and so French was the official language used 
 in documents. 
 
 Goethe became a student at the Strassburg University, on his 
 birthday, August 28, 1770. Here he became acquainted with a 
 number of interesting men. First among them we mention 
 Herder, a few years his senior, who awakened in him a deep in- 
 terest in the problems of life, notably the origin of language. 
 
16 GOETHE. 
 
 Through Goethe's influence Herder was later on called to Wei- 
 mar in the capacity of Superintendent General of the church 
 of the duchy. Another friend of Goethe's during his stay at 
 Strassburg was Lerse, a brave and honest young man, whose 
 name is immortalized in Goethe's first drama as one of the char- 
 acters of the play. Still others are the actuary Salzmann, the 
 
 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF STRASSBURG. 
 From an old hymn-book. 
 
 poet Lenz and Jung-StilHng, a self-educated author of remark- 
 able talent and a pious Christian. 
 
 Johann Heinrich Jung (1740-1817) was originally a char- 
 coal burner, then a tailor, then a village schoolmaster and finally 
 under great tribulation attained his aim to study medicine. Count- 
 ing himself among the members of the pious sect called Die 
 Stillen im Lande, "the Quiet-in-the-Land," he adopted the sur- 
 name "Stilling." In spite of their marked diversity in character 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 17 
 
 Goethe showed a great interest and even admiration for Jung- 
 StilHng's naive piety and simple-minded faith. 
 
 The Strassburg Cathedral made a deep impression on Goethe 
 and induced him to compare architecture with other arts, espe- 
 cially music. His acquaintance with, and love of, the Gothic 
 
 JACOB MICHAEL REINHOLD LENZ. 
 After a drawing by Pfenninger in Lavater's Collection. 
 
 Style taught him that beauty is not limited to one expression 
 and that besides the art of ancient Greece there are other possi- 
 bilities of developing classical beauty. 
 
 It was during the year of Goethe's student-life at Strassburg 
 
18 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 that his romance with Friederike Brion^ of Sesenheim took place. 
 So dearly did he cherish the memory of this idyllic courtship 
 that the reader of his autobiography, written when the poet was 
 over sixty years of age, still feels the throb of his heart in the 
 description. 
 
 On August 6, 1771, Goethe underwent the ordeal of his rigo- 
 rosum, an examination for the degree of Doctor of Laws; but 
 history is silent on the result. Whether he passed or not is not 
 
 JOHANN HEINRICH JUNG-STILLING. 
 By H. Lips, 1801. 
 
 definitely known. One thing only is certain : the incident plays no 
 part in his after life. He is neither congratulated by his friends 
 or relatives on his graduation, nor does he ever claim, let alone 
 use, the title, nor was he ever officially addressed as Doctor. It 
 is true that in the intimate circle of his friends at Wetzlar he was 
 called "Doctor Goethe," but these incidents are not convincing 
 because it may have been a nickname which had found its way 
 • See pp. 84-95. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 19 
 
 into the nursery of the Buff family, and it is well known that 
 Goethe could take a joke with good grace. The university 
 records which could decide the problem are no longer in exist- 
 ence. All this makes it not impossible, nay even probable, that 
 
 GOETHE'S RESIDENCE WHEN A STUDENT. 
 On the Old Fish Market in Strassburg. 
 
 he actually failed. It is not uncommon that great men are not 
 made for examinations, they show off to better advantage in life; 
 and on the other hand professors are frequently mistaken in 
 their estimate of a young man who, somehow, is able to take 
 
20 GOETHE. 
 
 high standing in these mechanical tests, yet is a disappointment 
 later on. 
 
 Besides some pretty poems inspired by Friederike Brion, 
 
 MARIA CAROLINE FLACHSLAND. 
 (Afterwards Frau Herder.) 
 
 Goethe wrote his Roslein auf der Haiden in Strassburg, and 
 it was there that he first conceived the plan of Faust. 
 
 * * * 
 Having returned to Frankfort August 1771, Goethe finished 
 the first draft of Gotz von Berlichingen within six weeks, and 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 21 
 
 had it published in the fall of 1772. It at once established its 
 author's fame. 
 
 Still in the year 1771, on a trip to Darmstadt, Goethe became 
 acquainted with a circle of friends among whom we note Caro- 
 line Flachsland, a lady of good education who was engaged to 
 be married to Herder. There he met also Johann Heinrich 
 Merck (1741-1791) a qusestor in the war department who was 
 
 JOHANN HEINRICH MERCK. 
 
 easily the keenest critic of the age, and had been drawn to the 
 capital of Hesse-Darmstadt by the cultured Landgravine Catha- 
 rine. Merck was attracted to Goethe and became one of his most 
 intimate friends. He never hesitated to criticize him severely 
 whenever he was dissatisfied with the poet, and Goethe was wise 
 enough to heed his advice, nor did he take offence when Merck 
 
22 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 would say on some occasion: "You must not write such stuff 
 again !" Merck's character contributed some of the satirical fea- 
 tures with which Goethe endowed his Mephistopheles. His life 
 came to a tragic end on June 27, 1791, when he committed 
 suicide. 
 
 Goethe loved to walk great distances, and on a tramp from 
 Frankfort to Darmstadt in 1771 he composed the poem tVan- 
 derers Sturmlied. 
 
 In the spring (May 1772) Goethe went to Wetzlar, a small 
 town where an imperial court of justice had been established. 
 It was customary in those days for young Frankfort law5ners 
 to attend these courts before they were admitted to the bar. in 
 their own city. 
 
 VIEW OF WETZLAR FROM THE SOUTH. 
 
 Leaving Wetzlar September 11, 1772, Goethe returned to 
 y Frankfort and settled there as an attorney-at-law. Soon after- 
 wards he heard of the death of Jerusalem, one of his Leipsic 
 student friends. Carl Wilhelm Jerusalem was born March 21, 
 1747, at Wolfenbiittel, and in 1771 had been made secretary of 
 the subdelegation of Brunswick- Wolfenbiittel. He suffered from 
 melancholy and, having begun to doubt the historicity of the 
 New Testament, had lost his comfort in the Christian religion.' 
 But the climax of his despair was reached because of his affec- 
 tion for Frau Herdt, the wife of his friend, the Ambassador of 
 the Palatine Electorate. Under pretense of making a journey, 
 he borrowed a pair of pistols from Kestner, then secretary of 
 the Bremen subdelegation, and shot himself in the night of Oc- 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 23 
 
 tober 30, 1772. Lessing acknowledged with unstinted praise 
 the extraordinary reasoning power and deep sentiment of Jeru- 
 
 CARL WILHELM JERUSALEM AS A CHILD. 
 
 salem and raised the best possible memorial to him by publishing 
 his "Philosophical Essays." 
 
24 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Jerusalem's death, together with his own interest in Char- 
 lotte Buff/ suggested to Goethe the plan of his novel, "The 
 Sorrows of Young, Werther," which he wrote in 1774 within 
 four weeks and had it published at once. It created a sensation 
 throughout Germany, and though it was severely criticized it 
 permanently established his fame as an author. 
 
 JOHANN CHRISTIAN KESTNER. 
 
 After a lithograpk by Julius Giere made from an oil painting in the possession 
 
 of GeoTg Kestner of Dresden. 
 
 Though we recognize the unusual ability which Goethe 
 showed in this book, we will grant that its influence on the. 
 younger generation of Germany was very injurious. Suicides 
 
 ' See pp. 99-100. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 25 
 
 of- sentimental lovers increased to a most alarming extent, one 
 of the best known of which was the death of Herr von Kleist 
 
 WERTHER'S LOTTA. 
 By Kaiilbach. 
 
 and the wife of one of his friends. It took some time before the 
 literary world overcame this pathological hankering after a senti- 
 
26 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 '4c jfscrijixx II i 'villi 
 
 || ^'ii ^m^W^m ^ nu^t^ \ \ i ii . i iff i .i i i i i ii i i. i^^^ ^^ ^^ ^ ^ 
 
 11' II ' I, '1 '"I 
 
 ii 
 
 CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH NICOLAI. 
 Haid's ehgraving after a drawing of Chodowiecki. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 27 
 
 mental death of unfortunate lovers. Goethe himself knew that 
 his books were not for everybody, and he said in reply to one 
 of his critics, a narrow but haughty pietist : 
 
 By the conceited man— by him 
 
 I'm dangerous proclaimed; 
 
 The wight uncouth who cannot swim, 
 
 By him the water's blamed. 
 
 That Berlin pack— priest-ridden lot— 
 
 Their ban I ^m not heeding; 
 
 And he who understands me not 
 
 Ought to improve in reading. 
 
 JOYS OF YOUNG WERTHER. 
 Chodowiecki's vignette on the title page of Nicolai's satire. 
 
 While the "Sorrows of Young Werther" may be regarded as 
 subject to criticism, we ought to mention that the book received 
 quite undeserved condemnation at the hands of Christoph Fried- 
 rich Nicolai, a publisher and author who at that time possessed 
 considerable influence in Germany. Nicolai, born March 18, 1733, 
 at Berlin, was a leading representative of the eighteenth-century 
 rationalism, but he was narrow in his views and his prosaic 
 nature had no sense for religious mysticism or any poetical 
 
28 GOETHE. 
 
 enthusiasm. He did not even understand the psychical aspect 
 of Werther's sentimentalism and condemned his melancholy as 
 simply due to costiveness. In contrast to the "Sorrows of Young 
 Werther," Nicolai published a parody, "The Joys of Young 
 Werther," for which Chodowiecki engraved a title vignette. 
 Goethe expresses himself about this satire in his "Truth and 
 Fiction" as follows : " 'The Joys of Youiig Werther,' in which 
 Nicolai distinguishes himself, gave us an opportunity for several 
 jokes. This man, otherwise good, meritorious and learned, had 
 begun to suppress and ignore everything that did not agree with 
 his views, which he in his mental limitations regarded as the only 
 true and genuine ones. Against me also he had to try his hand, 
 and his brochure soon came into our hands. The very delicate 
 vignette of Chadowiecki gave me great pleasure, for I esteem 
 this artist beyond measure. The production itself, however, was 
 cut out of coarse cloth, which the common sense of his surround- 
 ings took great pains to manufacture most crudely." 
 
 Goethe answered Nicolai's criticism in the same tone by a 
 humorous quatrain entitled "At Werther's Grave," in which a 
 visitor to the cemetery where the ashes of the unhappy lover 
 repose declares that he would still be alive if he had enjoyed a 
 good digestion. 
 
 Goethe began his great drama Gotz von Berlichingen at the 
 end of 1771; he finished it in 1772 and submitted it in manu^ 
 script to Herder, but when Herder called the poet's attention to 
 its shortcomings Goethe recast the whole, mercilessly canceled 
 long passages and introduced new material. In this revised 
 shape he had it printed at his own expense in June 1 773, because 
 he could not find a publisher in Germany who would risk its 
 publication. 
 
 Many men of prominence had become interested in Goethe 
 and visited him in his father's home. Among them must be 
 mentioned first Johann Caspar Lavater (1741-1801), a pious 
 pastor of Ziirich, and Johann Bernhard Basedow, an educator 
 of Hamburg. In company with these two men, both with out- 
 spoken theological interests, the young worldling, as Goethe 
 called himself in a poem of that period, undertook a trip along 
 the Rhine in the summer of 1774. On this journey they visited 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 29 
 
 Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi (1743-1819) on his estate at Pempel- 
 fort near Diisseldorf. 
 
 Lavater was a well-known pulpiteer and a pioneer in the 
 study of physiognomy, a subject in which Goethe too was inter- 
 ested; and Basedow the founder of an educational institution 
 called the Philanthropin. Jacobi had deep philosophical interests 
 and regarded himself as a disciple of Spinoza, whose philosophy, 
 however, he accepted only so far as it could be made to agree 
 with a childlike belief in God, for he was no less a faithful 
 Christian than his friend Lavater. Goethe, an ardent admirer 
 of Spinoza, differed from Jacobi on theism, but in spite of tran- 
 
 JOHANN BERNHARD BASEDOW. 
 
 sient misunderstandings they remained good friends for the rest 
 of their lives. 
 
 In October 1774 Klopstock, the author of the "Messiade" 
 which corresponds to Milton's "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise 
 Regained," called on Goethe, — a great distinction, as at that time 
 he was the greatest poet of Germany, but now when Goethe's 
 fame has so far eclipsed that of Klopstock it is difficult to appre- 
 ciate the fact. 
 
 By far the most important visit which Goethe received — 
 important through its consequences — was that of Karl Ludwig 
 von Knebel, tutor of Prince Constantine, the second son of the 
 Duchess Dowager, Anna Amalia of Saxe-Weimar. He was 
 
30 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 accompanied by both princes, Karl August being at that time 
 seventeen yeai-s of age. The duchess-mother, a noble woman 
 
 KARL LUDWIG VON KNEBEL. 
 Drawn by Schmeller, 1824. 
 
 of refined Hterary taste, the daughter of Duke Karl of Brunswick 
 and a sister of Frederick the Great, had called Wieland to Wei- 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 31 
 
 mar from the University of Erfurt to educate her oldest son 
 Prince Karl August, the heir apparent to the duchy. When the 
 Duke became of age, Wieland was made Court Councilor and 
 lived for the remainder of his life on an estate near Weimar, 
 where he died January 21, 1813. 
 
 In April 1775 occurred Goethe's brief' engagement to Lili 
 Schoenemann,^ and we have a number of poems and songs of 
 this period inspired by the acquaintance and dedicated to her. 
 
 In the summer of 1775 Goethe made a journey to Switzerland 
 
 CHRISTIAN COUNT STOLBERG 
 After a painting by Groger. 
 
 FRIEDRICH LEOPOLD COUNT 
 
 STOLBERG. 
 
 After a painting by Rincklacke. 
 
 in company with the two counts Stolberg. In Zurich he visited 
 his friends Jakob Bodmer and Lavater. The Stolberg brothers, 
 Christian and Friedrich Leopold, were members of the Gottingen 
 Fraternity of the Grove (Hainbund), an association of young 
 poets, all admirers of Klopstock. Count Friedrich von Stolberg,- 
 following his mystic inclination and frightened away from lib- 
 eralism through the French Revolution, later became a convert 
 to Roman Catholicism. 
 ' See pp. 103-105. 
 
32 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Other visitors of distinction who sought the personal ac- 
 quaintance of the new star that had risen on the horizon of Ger- 
 man Hterature were Heinrich Christian Boie (1744-1806), the 
 editor of the Musenalmanach (1770-1775), and of the Gottinger 
 Deutsche Museum (1776-1791)," Gerstenberg (1737-1823) the 
 author of the bizarre story Ugolino and of other poetry, Johann 
 
 CHRISTOPII MARTIN WIELAND. 
 Georg Zimmermann, Court Physician at Hanover, a;uthor of a 
 book "On Solitude" (1756) and on "Experience in Medical Art" 
 (1763). 
 
 A center for literary activity in which Goethe and his friends 
 (Merck, Lenz, Herder, Klinger, etc.) took an active part was 
 the Frankfurter Gelehrten-Anseiger, founded in 1772. 
 
 In 1774 Goethe pubHshed his tragedy "Clavigo," which in 
 
 ° Since 1788 called .Neues Deutsches Museum. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 33 
 
 1775 was followed by a drama entitled "Stella."i° Neither of 
 them is important and Goethe himself cared little for them. 
 A farce, "Gods, Heroes and Wieland" (1774), though in sub- 
 stance a just criticism of Wieland, was too personal in its form 
 and might better have been left unwritten. To Wieland's credit 
 it may be stated that he did not retaliate, and recognized the 
 greatness of the young Goethe without a grudge. The two poets 
 were afterwards the best of friends, and Goethe learned from 
 this experience moderation in his criticism. 
 
 Of great interest and remarkable for its wit is Goethe's satire 
 on the higher criticism of the New Testament directed against 
 Bahrdt.^^ At the same time (1773-1774) his soul was stirred 
 with plans of great works, on such subjects as Faust, Socrates, 
 Prometheus, Ahasverus the Wandering Jew, and Mahomet, but 
 only Faust reached completion (though much later), while the 
 other topics afforded him material for poems of great depth of 
 thought in a smaller compass. 
 
 The young Duke Karl August, who on becoming of age 
 had ascended the throne of Saxe-Weimar, called on Goethe in 
 Frankfort, and on his return after his marriage on October 3, 
 1775, to Louise, the daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse-Darm- 
 stadt, he invited the poet, for a visit to Weimar, his Thuringian 
 capital. The bride's mother, the Landgravine Catherine, had 
 during her life surrounded herself with a literary circle and was 
 a patron of German poetry. She had died in 1774, but her 
 daughter Louise had inherited her literary tastes, and in this she 
 agreed with her noble mother-in-law, the Duchess Dowager 
 Amalia, and also with her young husband, Duke Karl August 
 of Weimar. The result was auspicious, for it made Weimar the 
 center of the development of German literature. 
 
 Goethe reached Weimar in the autumn of 1775. He was 
 received as a welcome guest, and the time was spent in festivals, 
 journeys, outings, skating parties, rural dances and masquerades; 
 and there was some danger that these pleasures would prove the 
 
 " "Stella" was changed in later years into a tragedy. 
 '' For a translation of this satire see pp. 276-278. 
 
34 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 ruin of Goethe's genius. It seemed as if the spirit of Storm and 
 Stress had upset all Weimar, and Goethe himself felt that they 
 had carried their wanton madness too far. 
 
 In 1776 Goethe felt a desire to settle in Weimar even before 
 
 KARL AUGUST, DUKE OF SAXE WEIMAR. 
 Drawing from life by Lips, 1780. 
 
 his friend the Duke had offered him a position, and he had 
 acquired a small house, the surrounding garden of which was in 
 a wild neglected state. This property, "the garden on the Horn," 
 was announced for sale in the local paper and Goethe bought it 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 35 
 
 for $450.00 (600 thalers), what was then considered a high 
 price. 12 It was deeded to him on April 22, and he moved into 
 it on May 18. Goethe greatly loved his little property and spent 
 
 much time and attention on its improvement. Beneath a sketch 
 of it drawn by Otto Wagner in 1827 he wrote the following 
 verse : 
 
 "Here we follow the authority of Wilhelm Bode (Damals in Weimar, 
 p. 57), while Konnecke in his Bildcratlas states that this garden" was a gift to 
 the poet from the Duke. 
 
36 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Arrogant 'tis surely not, 
 This house in quiet garden spot, 
 All the friends who visit here 
 Never fail to find good cheer. 
 
 It was here in 1778 that Goethe wrote his beautiful poem 
 "To the Moon." 
 
 In June Karl August offered the poet an appointment in the 
 government of the small state with the title of Councilor and a 
 salary of 1200 thalers. This was the beginning of his career 
 in the Duke's service, and the city of Weimar remained his 
 residence ever afterward. In 1779 Goethe was made Privy 
 
 GOETHE'S COAT OF ARMS. 
 
 Councilor and in 1782 Emperor Joseph II conferred upon him 
 the rank of nobility with a coat of arms showing a silver star 
 on a blue field. 
 
 In 1777 Goethe began to take his duties seriously and tried to 
 be of service to the Duke. His salary was increased in 1781 to 
 1400 thalers, in 1785 to 1600, and in 1816 to 3000 thalers per 
 annum. He did not, however, forget his literary interests, al- 
 though for a while he was more receptive than productive. 
 
 To this period belong the several poems dedicated to Frau 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 37 
 
 von Stein,!^ and also the beautiful songs incorporated in Wil- 
 helm Meister, "He Only Who Knows Longing's Pain," and 
 "Who Never Ate his Bread with Tears," besides the ballads 
 "The Fisher," "The Singer," "Limits of Mankind" and "The 
 Divine." New plans were conceived which gradually took a 
 definite shape, among them "Tasso," "Wilhelm Meister," "Eg- 
 mont" and "Iphigenia in Tauris." 
 
 An influential citizen of Weimar during Goethe's residence 
 there was Friedrich Justin Bertuch, a self-made man who was 
 the leading spirit in many enterprises both commercial and lit- 
 erary. At the age of twenty-six he was a translator and play- 
 wright. He was appointed private secretary to the duke and 
 had charge of his private treasury. Later on he became the pub- 
 lisher, among other things, of Die Jenaische Literaturseitung. 
 He founded the geographical institute, and helped many poor 
 authors. He was particularly fortunate in building a high grade of 
 houses. His taste was so refined that Schiller in 1787 spoke of 
 Bertuch's own house as "unquestionably the most beautiful house 
 in Weimar." The beauty, however, appears mainly in the in- 
 terior and in the arrangement of the garden and its pond. One 
 of his industrial interests was a flower manufactory, where Chris- 
 tiana Vulpius found employment before Goethe's intimacy with 
 her. During the terrors of the war Mr. Bertuch was one of the 
 citizens of Weimar who still continued to employ labor, and it 
 is stated that 450 people were dependent on him at. that time. 
 In the reconstruction period after the war Bertuch was one of 
 the most active men, and at Goethe's suggestion he was elected 
 Grand Master of the masonic lodge, in which capacity he induced 
 Wieland to join the lodge although he had long been an opponent 
 of masonry. Wieland was officially buried by the Masons from 
 the house of Bertuch, which was appropriately decorated for the 
 occasion. 
 
 In 1779 Goethe made another journey to Switzerland, this 
 time with the Duke in strict incognito. On his way he spent two 
 days with his parents at Frankfort and paid a visit to Friederike 
 
 "See pp. 119-121 and 140-142. 
 
38 GOETHE. 
 
 at Sesenheim. At Strassburg he called on Lili Schonemann, who 
 was happily married and had just become the mother of a baby. 
 At the Staubbach, one of the most beautiful cataracts, he com- 
 posed the poem "Song of the Spirits Over the Water." On his 
 return they passed through Constance, saw the falls of the Rhine, 
 visited Stuttgart and attended a meeting of the scholars of the 
 Wxirttemberg Military Academy (December 14, 1779) which 
 was in so far remarkable as on this day in Goethe's presence a 
 prize was awarded to a youth who was destined to become his 
 best and greatest friend. It was Friedrich Schiller. 
 
 January 13, 1780, Goethe returned to Weimar. He began 
 his "Tasso," a drama in which two characters reflected the double 
 part which Goethe himself was playing at the time, a poet and a 
 diplomat or courtier. At the same time he was engaged in an 
 elaborate novel, "Wilhelm Meister." 
 
 In 1782, on March 25, Goethe's father died. 
 
 In 1785 Goethe visited Karlsbad, where he met Herder and 
 also some of the ladies of Weimar, notably the Duchess Louise 
 and Frau von Stein. 
 
 In July 1786 he revisited Karlsbad and left secretly for his. 
 beloved Italy in August, traveling under the name of Miiller. 
 He reached the country of his dreams in September and stayed 
 there until April 1788. 
 
 The country and its traditions were so congenial to him that 
 he felt "as if he had been born and raised there and had only- 
 come back to his home from an expedition to Greenland." In 
 Rome he tarried twice, for he loved "the capital of the world" 
 and declared that "there is but one Rome." He finished in 
 Italy his versified rendition of "Iphigenia" and his "Egmont." 
 He also worked diligently on "Tasso" and "Faust." 
 
 In Rome Goethe met an Italian copper engraver, Giovanni 
 Volpato, who was director of a school of engraving. He was 
 born 1733 at Bassano and died August 26, 1803. At the time 
 Goethe was staying at Rome a beautiful young Milanese girl, 
 Maddalena Riggi, was visiting with friends there, and Goethe 
 became acquainted with her in 1787 at Castle Candolfo while 
 the guest of a wealthy English art dealer whose name was 
 Jenkins. Goethe took a great fancy' to this Italian beauty and 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 39 
 
40 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 immortalized her in a poem entitled "Second Sojourn in Rome." 
 But this episode was of a passing nature, for Maddalena very- 
 soon afterwards, in 1788, married the son- of Volpato, the en- 
 
 r'-^--^^%^> — ^.ij I -111 
 
 *fi 
 
 i 
 
 ■ . ..... /^: \ ' 
 
 »., k' f%'c „! . I m 
 
 ""»', 'iH ' ' i^y III I 
 
 
 GOETHE IN ROME. 
 Drawing by Tischbein, 1787. 
 
 graver, and after his death she married the architect Francesco 
 Finucci. 
 
 Among prominent Germans whom Goethe met in Rome must 
 be mentioned the famous artists, Angelica Kauffmann, Philipp 
 Hackert, and Tischbein. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 41 
 
 Goethe returned to Weimar on June 18, 1788, and it was in 
 the same year that he met Christian August Vulpius (1762- 
 1827), whose sister Christiana^* was for many years his faithful 
 housekeeper and later became his wife. Vulpius was a poet of 
 
 some talent. How popular he was as a playwright can be de- 
 duced from the fact that his name appears in the repertoire 
 forty-six times to twenty times of Goethe's, but his dramas are 
 " See pp. 121-124. 
 
42 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 forgotten, only his song of the robber Rinddo Rinaldini sur- 
 viving, and even that merely as a humorous specimen of anti- 
 quated taste. 
 
 On Christmas day, 1789, Goethe's only son was born, and in 
 
 MADDALENA RIGGI. 
 After a painting by Angelica Kauffmann.* 
 
 baptism received the name August after his godfather, the Duke 
 Karl August. 
 
 In the spring of 1 790 Goethe traveled to Venice where he met 
 the Duchess Amalia on her homeward way from Italy. In the 
 fall he accompanied the Duke to Silesia. 
 
 * There are two copies in existence, one in the possession of Dr. Werner 
 Weisbach of Berlin, the other of Rudolf Rieter-Ziegler of Winterthur. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 43 
 
 In the same year he wrote his poem "The Metamorphosis of 
 Plants" in illustration of the doctrine of evolution. ^^ 
 
 CHRISTIAN AUGUST VULPIUS. 
 
 In 1791 Goethe helped the Duke build the new theater at 
 Weimar of which on its completion he was made director. 
 
 " See pp. 2S1-2SS. 
 
44 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 In August 1792 he accompanied the Duke on his cam- 
 paign in the Ardennes against the French revolutionists. In 1793 
 
 AUGUST VON GOETHE. 
 
 Crayon drawing by Schmeller. 
 
 both attended the siege of Mayence. In the same year Goethe 
 
 began to rewrite the old German epic, "Reynard, the Fox," the 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 45 
 
 "unholy secular Bible" as he called it because it describes the 
 ways of the world in which the scoundrel triumphs by dint of his 
 shrewdness. 
 
 In the meantime Schiller had settled in Jena, so close to 
 Weimar, as professor of history. The two greatest poets of 
 Germany had thus lived in close proximity for several years, but 
 remained indifferent toward each other tmtil now in the sprine; 
 of 1794 Goethe felt more and more attracted by his younger 
 
 OLD THEATER IN WEIMAR. 
 
 rival, and their friendship became a source of inspiration to 
 both. Buoyed by Schiller's interest, Goethe quickly completed 
 his novel "Wilhelm Meister" and the epic "Hermann and Doro- 
 thea." 
 
 In 1795 Schiller started a literary periodical. Die Horen, and 
 in 1796 the Musen-Almanach. The former proved disappointing 
 in spite of a good beginning; the latter was more successful and 
 contained a great, number of poems by both Goethe and Schiller. 
 Goethe published here for the first time his "Epigrams of Ven- 
 ice," "Alexis and Doris, an Idyl," and his satire, "The Muses 
 
46 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 and the Graces in the Mark." However, the climax of an ex- 
 citement in the literary circles of Germany was reached when the 
 Xenions appeared in the Musen-Almanach, satirical distichs in 
 which the two poets attacked their several adversaries with great 
 bitterness. ^^ They were answered in many Antixenions with the 
 same or even greater bitterness, but instead of continuing the 
 
 
 ^'c^^ 
 
 ,,««> 
 
 SCHILLER AND GOETHE RIDICULED.* 
 
 feud Goethe and Schiller decided to justify their position by 
 henceforth creating only noble works of art. ' . 
 
 The year 1797 was the year of ballads for both Goethe and 
 
 " The writer has published a selection of them under the title Goethe and 
 Schiller's Xenions, Chicago: Open Court Publishing Company. • 
 
 * A caricature made in answer to their Xenions. ■ It shows a pageant of 
 burlesque figures representing the Xenions as unruly street urchins who upset 
 a column bearing the inscription "Decency, Morality, Jiistice." They are 
 stopped at the gate because they do not deserve admittance. - Goethe is repre- 
 sented as a faun, hoofed and tailed, carrying a ribbon in his hand' inscribed' 
 Thierkreis, i.e., zodiac; Schiller is represented as a drunken coachman with 
 boots, whip and bottle. . The portraits of both Schiller and Goethe are sup- 
 posed to be very good and easily recognizable by people who knew the poets 
 at that time. Nevertheless they are not based on any known portraits and are 
 therefore assumed to be taken from life.' 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 47 
 
 Schiller. Goethe wrote, "The Apprentice in Magic," "The Bride 
 of Corinth," "The Treasure Digger," "The God and the Baja- 
 dere," and others. 
 
 Goethe's poems with all their simplicity in diction are so 
 filled with sentiment that they naturally invite the composer to 
 
 jsi^tMBlLi 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^^^B'^^^^'Ik''^ ^^ ^B^w^UkpMSs 
 
 
 ^^^H '^^ ^m'' .' ^f^^^Wj^B 'j^miM 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 l^^M^'S ■a|f' ^A 'Wt 
 
 
 '^^pil^^j l^vl.^ ' 1^ -IV 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 m 
 
 FRANZ SCHUBERT. 
 
 set them to music. His devoted friend Zelter was always ready 
 to write the music of his songs, and his melodies are very sing- 
 able, but he was eclipsed in his task by others, especially by Franz 
 Schubert, the master of lyric composition, and by Karl Loewe, 
 
48 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 the greatest composer of ballads. It will be interesting to com- 
 pare Schubert's composition of Goethe's Erlkonig with that of 
 
 KARL LOEWE. 
 
 Loewe, both different in style and yet each one in its way unsur- 
 passed. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 49 
 
 In 1 798 Goethe revisited Switzerland. On his way he saw 
 his mother at Frankfort for the last time, and presented to her 
 Christiana Vulpius and his son. 
 
 ■During the following years Schiller's star rose and threat- 
 ened to eclipse that of Goethe who was not at that time pro- 
 ductive. He was engaged in scientific and archeological labors 
 and translations. He wrote some discussions on classical art, 
 "The Doctrine of Color" and "Winckelmann and his Century," 
 and translated Voltaire's "Mahomet and Tancred" and his drama 
 "The Natural Daughter." The adversaries of Schiller and Goethe 
 tried to make use of the changed situation and Kotzebue glorified 
 Schiller at Goethe's expense in an attempt to sow enmity be- 
 tween the two, but in vain. Goethe remained firm in his friend- 
 ship and showed no sign of envy. On the contrary he felt the 
 more attracted to Schiller because he found more reason to ad- 
 mire him. 
 
 As a tutor for his son, Goethe engaged in 1803 a young man 
 who had already made a name for himself as a Greek lexicog- 
 rapher, Friedrich Wilhelm Rienier (1774-1845). The young 
 scholar soon became a useful helpmate for the literary work of 
 his pupil's father and continued so beyond the end of the great 
 poet's life as a redactor of his collected works and posthumous 
 papers. 
 
 In 1805 Goethe was in poor health, and Schiller too was ill. 
 Goethe was convinced that one of the two would die in tha<- 
 year. Schiller seemed to recover and visited Goethe in his sick 
 room. On April 19 they saw each other for the last time. 
 Schiller was on the way to the theater while Goethe was too ill 
 to accompany him. They parted at the door of Schiller's house. 
 
 Goethe recovered. Destiny granted him another lease of life, 
 but Schiller died May 9, 1805. 
 
 Goethe missed his friend very much and expressed his ad- 
 miration for him in many ways. He sought comfort in solitude 
 and in scientific work, devoting much of his time to the theory 
 of color. 
 
 Schiller's remains were deposited in the Grand Ducal Mauso- 
 leum at Weimar, and when in 1826, twenty years after his death, 
 the mausoleum had to be rebuilt so as to make room for more 
 
50 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 bodies, the mayor of Weimar, Carl Leberecht Schwabe, selected 
 a skull which on the authority of some highly respected physi- 
 cians he was fully convinced belonged to the great poet. This 
 skull was given to Goethe who kept it on his desk before him 
 in constant remembrance of his beloved friend, and wrote a 
 poem on it entitled, "On Contemplating Schiller's Skull." This 
 
 THE GOETHE TABLE IN SCHILLER'S GARDEN. 
 Where the friends often conversed together. 
 
 poem concludes with the following lines, in which we find the 
 conception of God-Nature, so typical of Goethe, and a reference 
 to the everlastingness of everything begotten by spirit: 
 
 What greater in this life can mortal gain 
 Then that to him God-Nature be revealed; 
 The solid when resolved will spirit yield; 
 
 Spirit-begotten things secure remain. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 51 
 
 [Was kann der Mensch im Leben mehr gewinnen, 
 Als dass sich Gott-Natur ihm offenbare, 
 Wie sie das Feste lasst zu Geist verrinnen, 
 Wie sie das Geisterzeugte fest bewahre !] 
 
 GOETHE CONTEMPLATING SCHILLER'S SKULL. 
 Sculpture by Eberlein. 
 
52 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 We must add that in recent times the suspicion has grown 
 stronger and stronger that the skull could not have been that of 
 Schiller and that Goethe had wasted his reverence on the relics of 
 a lesser man. Doctor A. von Froriep, professor of anatomy at 
 
 ^' GOETHE IN 1800. 
 
 After a crayon by F. Bury. 
 
 Tiibingen and a native of Weimar, has finally succeeded in dis- 
 covering the genuine skull of Schiller. ^^ 
 
 On October 14, 1806, the battle of Jena was fought in the 
 near neighborhood of Weimar. French troops took possession 
 of Weimar, and the quiet town suffered much for a few days 
 
 " For further details see The Open Court, Vol. XXVII, pp. 444-446. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 53 
 
 from plunder, incendiarism and murder. The life of Goethe 
 himself was once endangered by drunken marauders, but Chris- 
 tiana Vulpius saved him by her heroic interference and by reso- 
 lutely showing the rude intruders the door. On the 19th of the 
 
 CHRISTIANA VULPIUS AND AUGUST VON GOETHE. 
 ■ Water-color by Heinrich Meyer made either in 1792 or 1793, imitat- 
 ing the attitude and coloring of Raphael's Madonna delta sedia. 
 The very youthful mother is dressed in violet and the child m 
 light green. 
 
 same month Goethe married her, and so Christiana became Frau 
 Geheimerath Goethe with all the rights of a legitimate wife. 
 
 In 1807 Goethe lost one of his noblest and most loyal friends 
 in the person of the Duchess Dowager Amalia, who died April 10. 
 
 It was just at this time that Goethe met Bettina Brentano 
 
54 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 who later greatly misrepresented him in her "Goethe's Corre- 
 spondence with a Child."^^ 
 
 BETTINA VON ARNIM. 
 At an advanced age. 
 
 The year 1808 had another sad bereavement in store for 
 Goethe, for his mother died on September 13. 
 " See pp. 131-133. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 55 
 
 At this time the Congress of Erfurt was in session and 
 Goethe accompanied the Duke on that important occasion. On 
 October 2 he had a personal interview with Napoleon which was 
 pleasing to both men, both great and yet so different in their 
 talents and destinies. Napoleon said of Goethe, "Voild un 
 homme !" and Goethe was overawed by the extraordinary power 
 of this successful conqueror who had then reached the zenith 
 of his glory. He beheved in genius, and in Napoleon he saw the 
 incarnation of military and diplomatic greatness. When a few 
 years afterwards the German people rose against Napoleon, 
 Goethe did not believe it possible that he could be overthrown. 
 He said: "Shake your chains! that man is too great, you can 
 not break them." When a few years later in the War of Libera- 
 tion his own son wanted to enter a battalion of volunteers, he 
 refused to give his permission. 
 
 Goethe was sufficiently German to rejoice in the German 
 victory over the French conqueror, and even his admiration for 
 the genius of the tyrant could not prevent him from taking an 
 active part in the patriotic celebrations of the victory. He even 
 went so far as to write verses for the purpose and praised Field 
 Marshal Bliicher for his successful campaign. It must be ob- 
 served, however, that his patriotic poetry does not possess the 
 genuine ring of the other poets of his day, such men as Amdt 
 and Koerner. It is artificial and stilted. A play which he wrote 
 in celebration of the victory under the title "The Awakening of 
 Epimenides," was performed in Berlin on March 15, 1815, but 
 did not arouse any great enthusiasm, and though perfect in form 
 belongs to the weaker productions of his muse. 
 
 Nor did time change Goethe's appreciation of Napoleon him- 
 self. In fact after Napoleon's death he wrote a poem on the 
 great conqueror which not only paid tribute to his manhood but 
 also is remarkable for its delicate humor. It reads thus : 
 
 At last before the good Lord's throne 
 On doomsday stood Napoleon. 
 The Devil had much fault to find 
 With him and with his kin and kind. 
 Of all his sins he had a list 
 On reading which he did insist. 
 Quoth God, the Father,— or the Son, 
 
56 GOETHE. 
 
 Perchance it was the Holy Ghost — 
 He was indignant innermost: 
 'I know it all, make no more stir ! 
 You speak like a German professor, sir. 
 Still, if you dare to take him, well — 
 Then drag him down with you to hell.' 
 
 [Am jiingsten Tag vor Gottes Thron 
 
 Stand endlich Held Napoleon. 
 
 Der Teufel hielt ein grosses Register 
 
 Gegen denselbeu und seine Geschwister. 
 
 War ein wundersam verruchtes Wesen: 
 
 Satan fing an es abzulesen. 
 
 Gott Vater, oder Gott der Sohn, 
 
 Einer von den Beiden sprach vom Thron, 
 
 Wenn nicht etwa der heilige Geist 
 
 Das Wort genommen allermeist: 
 "Wiederhol's nicht vor gottlichen Ohren ! 
 
 Du sprichst wie die deutschen Professoren. 
 
 Wir wissen Alles, mach' es kurz ! 
 
 Am jiingsten Tag ist's nur ein .... 
 
 Getraust du dich ihn anzugreifen, 
 
 So magst du ihn zur Holle schleifen."] 
 
 In 1808 Goethe wrote his humorous poem on telepathy en- 
 titled "Effects at a Distance."^^ 
 
 In 1809 he pubHshed his novel "Elective Affinities," the 
 main character of w^hich is thought to be founded on that of 
 Minna Herzlieb,^° for whom Goethe felt a fatherly attachment 
 in the preceding year. The book was widely read and though 
 severely censured by many, proved that the aged poet was still 
 capable of producing literary work of high merit. 
 
 During the time of the French invasion in 1808 Goethe 
 finished his first part of Faust, which was published the same year 
 under the title, "Faust, a Tragedy." Further he wrote a continua- 
 tion of "Wilhelm Meister" under the title "Wilhelm Meister's 
 Journey Years," and began his autobiography, the first instal- 
 ment of which appeared in 1811. Originally he called it "Poetry 
 and Truth," but when the work was completed he reversed it to 
 read "Truth and Poetry." In the best known English trans- 
 lation the title reads Truth and Fiction. It has ever remained 
 the most valuable key to a comprehension of Goethe, although 
 
 " See pp. 239-241. =» See pp. 133-134. 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 57 
 
 the poet's biographers are often embarrassed by the unreliabiHty 
 of its dates and sundry contradictions to estabHshed facts. How- 
 ever we must bear in mind that Goethe does not mean us to 
 take his story as a recapitulation of facts but as his recollection 
 of facts as they lived in his imagination. Other smaller poems 
 are "Johanna Sebus," "The Faithful Eckart," "The Wandering 
 Bell," "Ergo Bibamus," and "In Nothing Have I placed my 
 Trust." 
 
 Goethe was too cosmopolitan to be a patriot. In 1812 he 
 dedicated poems not only to the Emperor and Empress of 
 Austria, but also to their daughter, the Empress Marie Louise, 
 wife of Napoleon. 
 
 During the troublous times of the Napoleonic wars Goethe 
 had devoted himself to Oriental studies which bore fruit in the 
 "West-Eastern Divan" (1814-1815) a collection of poems in 
 which the literary student believes that he finds a prototype of 
 Suleika in Marianne von Willemer,^^ Goethe's acquaintance with 
 whom began at this time. 
 
 On June 6, 1816, Goethe's wife, Christiana, died and he 
 mourned her loss very sincerely. 
 
 In 1817 Goethe resigned his position as director of the 
 theater. 
 
 In 1819 Goethe wrote his poem "The Metamorphosis of 
 Animals," a companion piece to his "Metamorphosis of Plants," 
 and he completed his arguments on the intermaxillary bone, the 
 existence of which helped to establish the doctrine of evolution, 
 so much discussed at that time in the circles of naturalists. 
 
 After 1821 he was engaged with an edition of his complete 
 works in which he was assisted first by Riemer and afterwards 
 by Eckermann. 
 
 In 1 827 Johann Peter Eckermann (1792-1854) was introduced 
 to Goethe and became his secretary, serving him faithfully to 
 the very last. He is best known in German literature through 
 the memoirs which he published under the title "Goethe's Talks 
 with Eckermann." 
 
 Goethe's references to America are very few, and among 
 his poems there is only one which indicates that he ever took 
 
 "" See pp. 134-136, 
 
58 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 an interest in the destiny of the new world. The immediate 
 occasion of these lines was a journey of Karl Bernhard, duke 
 
 JOHANN PETER ECKERMANN. 
 Original preserved in the Goethe National Museum at Weimar. 
 
 of Saxe-Weimar, the second son of the poet's patron and friend, 
 the reigning grand-duke Karl August. This prince, born May 
 
THE LIfE OP GOETHE. 
 
 59 
 
 30, 1792, had dreamed of a visit to the new world ever since 
 his early boyhood, and at last in his thirty-second year his father 
 gave him permission to cross the Atlantic. In April, 1825, Karl 
 Bernhard left Ghent for the United States, and after a year's 
 
 
 ^K^^K^^^ 
 
 m 
 
 $ ):' V{i • 
 
 y. 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 
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 ^V /■■■['■■■ 
 
 ril 
 
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 J 
 
 
 JR^l^H^Ka^^ ^ ^ ^^> 
 
 \ 
 
 \ r- 
 
 
 ^^^^bJy-^a 
 
 ^^^m 
 
 ■ ■" ■.., -■ J ^ 
 
 i ^■^. 
 
 ^^^^tv- 
 
 ' 
 
 ^^HHPP^^^' ' ^^^^1 
 
 iZl 
 
 
 Miik uli^rfj 
 
 
 GOETHE DICTATING TO ECKERMANN. 
 After an oil painting by J. J. Schmeller in 1831. 
 
 Stay returned in June, 1826. The diaries of the prince's travels 
 were submitted to Goethe who commented on them favorably, 
 and they appeared in print in 1828.^^ 
 
 ^Compare on the subject Goethe's correspondence with Grand-Duke Karl 
 August and with Zelter. The latter is to be found in English translation as 
 well as in German editions. 
 
60 GOETHE. 
 
 The impressions which the prince had received in the new 
 world justified all his most optimistic expectations: the active, 
 life, the spirit of enterprise, the boldness in building, the rapid 
 increase of trade and commerce, the regulation of rivers, the 
 expanse of the country with its untold opportunities, and above 
 all the free and manly ways which the inhabitants exhibited in 
 their daily life. Every honest worker felt himself the equal of 
 every one else, and was treated as such ; it was a country of uni- 
 versal brotherhood without class distinction. The prince was 
 well received in society and also in military circles, and being a 
 soldier who had fought in several battles (Jena and Wagrdm,. 
 etc.) he was honored with the boom of cannon. So enthusiastic 
 was the prince over his experiences in the new world that he 
 seriously considered the plan of settling there and making it his 
 permanent home, but the old world had after all too great attrac- 
 tions for him, and having returned he took up his abode again 
 in the chateau of his ancestors in Weimar. 
 
 Like Goethe the prince was a member of the Masonic lodge 
 Amalia of Weimar, and on his return the brethren greeted him 
 at a lodge meeting with the recitation of a poem, specially made 
 for the occasion by Goethe and afterwards printed in 1833 in 
 Goethe's Posthumous Works. 
 
 Goethe's poem on America was written at this time and 
 under the influence which the perusal of the Prince's diary made 
 on him. The ideas, there expressed are also found in a poem of 
 de Laprade, entitled Les Demollisseurs, in which America is 
 characterized as a country unhampered by the past. De Lapirade 
 says: "There the people do not drag about the inconvenient 
 burden of superannuated regrets." He speaks of their paths as 
 free from prejudice and declares that "never a tomb, nor an 
 old wall has to be torn down." Goethe further met with the 
 statement that geologists had not discovered basalt rocks in the 
 mountains of the new continent, and this strange error was inter- 
 woven into his notion of the nature of the people. Basalt being 
 a rock of volcanic eruption he thought that the element of social 
 upheavals, of club law, and their historical analogies was ab- 
 sent. At any rate he deemed the lack of medieval traditions, 
 of a lingering remembrance of an age of robbers, knights and 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. gl 
 
 haunted castles as especially fortunate, and under these impres- 
 sions he wrote his poem which we translate as follows : 
 
 America, a better fate 
 Of thee than of Europe's expected. 
 No ruined castles of ancient date 
 Nor basalts in thee are detected. 
 
 The past disturbs thee not; nor rages 
 In this, thy surging modern life, 
 Vain memory of by-gone ages. 
 Nor futile antiquated strife. 
 
 The present utilize with care. 
 And if thy children write poetry books, 
 May, by good fortune, they beware 
 Of tales of robbers, knights and spooks. 
 
 [Amerika, du hast es besser 
 Als unser Continent, der alte, 
 Hast keine verfallene Schlosser 
 Und keine Basalte. 
 
 Dich stort nicht im Innern 
 Zu lebendiger Zeit 
 Unniitzes Erinnern 
 Und vergeblicher Streit. 
 
 Benutzt die Gegenwart mit Gliick, 
 
 Und wenn nun eure Kinder dichten, 
 
 Bewahre sie ein gut Geschick 
 
 Vor Ritter-, Rauber- und Gespenstergeschichten.] 
 
 This poem appears in Goethe's handwriting as the enclosure 
 of a letter of June 21, 1827, addressed to his musical friend, the 
 composer Zelter, to whom the poet intended to forward it in 
 order to have it set to music. It was first printed in the Musen- 
 Almanach, 1831, page 42; and later in Goethe's Correspondence 
 with Zelter, IV, 341. In Goethe's Collected Works it appears in 
 XXII, in the collection "Xenions and Kindred Poems" and bears 
 the title, "The United States." 
 
 Frau von Stein died in 1827, and the Duke, Goethe's patron 
 and faithful friend, in June 1828. But the worst bereavement 
 came in 1830 when on October 27 his only son August died 
 away from home in the city of Rome, while traveling in Italy. 
 The aged poet received the news with remarkable composure 
 
62 GOETHE. 
 
 and gave expression to his resignation in the oft quoted words : 
 "Non ignoravi me mortalem genuisse." 
 
 On August 31, 1831, when in his eighty-third year, Goethe 
 completed the second part of his "Faust" which he had begun 
 in 1824 — one of the profoundest and most remarkable dramatic 
 
 GOETHE'S SON AUGUST. 
 Medallion by Thorwaldsen. 
 
 poems in the whole history of human literature. Apparently 
 Goethe's genius had not suffered by old age. 
 
 On Thursday, March 15, 1832, Goethe spent a cheerful and 
 happy day. He awoke in the morning with a chill, from which 
 he recovered, however, and was enabled to resume his usual work 
 on Monday. Another chill awoke him in the middle of the night, 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 
 
 63 
 
 but again he recovered, and had no anticipation of death. His 
 daughter-in-law OttiHe attended him. On the morning of the 
 22d he sat slumbering in his armchair holding Ottilie's hand. 
 He ordered the servant to open the second shutter to let in more 
 
 light. At half past eleven he turned towards the left corner of 
 his armchair and went peacefully to sleep. It took some time 
 before Ottilie knew that his life was ended. 
 
 Goethe's eldest grandson, Walther, became a musician. He 
 
64 GOETHE. 
 
 Studied under Mendelssohn, Weinlig and Loewe and published 
 several compositions. He died April 15, 1885. Goethe's second 
 
 GOETHE'S GRANDCHILDREN IN THE POET'S HOUSE. 
 
 After a drawing by Arendswald made in the year 1836, five years after 
 Goethe's death. 
 
 grandson, Wolfgang Maximilian, took a doctor's degree in law 
 at Heidelberg and published an anonymous work of three volumes 
 
THE LIFE OF GOETHE. 65 
 
 on "Man and Elementary Nature," a poem "Erlinde" and col- 
 lections of "Poems." He died January 20, 1883. Little Alma 
 died of typhoid fever while a child, September 29, 1844. Her 
 full name was Alma Sedina Henrietta Cornelia. With these 
 three grandchildren Goethe's posterity died out. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 WHEN reading any biography of Goethe we are apt to 
 receive a wrong expression of his personaHty. We be- 
 come acquainted with a number of interesting people whom he 
 meets in different places, and among them many attractive 
 women. We are told of his literary labors and bear in mind 
 his rapidly spreading fame. Thus his life seems to be a series 
 of pleasures and triumphs while the quiet and concentrated work 
 in which he was usually engaged is scarcely considered. His la- 
 bors were almost playfully performed and his very recreations 
 entered into them as part of his experiences which made him 
 pause. His very, sentiments are the material of his work, for, 
 says he, "God made me say what in my heart I feel." Thus the 
 seriousness of his life does not appear to a superficial observer, 
 and yet those judge Goethe wrongly who would look upon his 
 life as a mere series of flirtations, of lucky incidents and un- 
 deserved successes of all kinds. He himself relates his life in a 
 charming style which renders every insignificant detail inter- 
 esting, but all those pleasant events are drawn upon a somber 
 background which the less noticed it is serves to render the more 
 fascinating the figures that appear upon it. 
 
 Goethe's was a serious constitution, and the joyous events 
 of his life are more incidental than the reader of "Truth and 
 Fiction" might think. He was the butt of much envy and hostil- 
 ity in his lifetime, and, above all, his relations to women have been 
 severely censured, but they were much purer and more innocent 
 than is commonly assumed. We must remember that all the 
 denunciations hurled against him by his critics are based upon 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 67 
 
 his own story. There are no accusations coming from those 
 whom he is assumed to have wronged. 
 
 GOETHE IN HIS THIRTIETH YEAR. 
 Painted by G. O. May, 1779. 
 
 When we wish to understand the part which women play in 
 Goethe's Hfe we ought to speak first of all of the poet's relations 
 with his mother. He knew very well what he owed to his father 
 
68 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 and what to his mother, tersely and poetically expressed in the 
 lines : 
 
 From father my inheritance 
 Is stature and conduct steady; 
 
 From mother my glee, that love of 
 romance. 
 And a tongue that's ever ready. 
 
 [Voni Vater hab ich die Statur, 
 Des Lebens ernstes Fiihren, 
 Vom Miitterchen die Frohnatur 
 Und Lust zu fabuliren. 
 
 GOETHE'S MOTHER, FRAU AJA. 
 
 After a picture in the possession of Solomon Hirzel. Original 
 portraits of the Frau Rath are very rare. 
 
 Great-grandpapa liked ladies fair, 
 And this my soul is haunting; 
 
 Great - grandmamma loved gems to 
 wear. 
 Like her I'm given to flaunting. 
 
 Urahnherr war der Schonsten hold. 
 Das spukt so hin und wieder; 
 Urahnfrau liebte Schmuck und Gold, 
 Das zuckt wohl durch die Glieder. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 69 
 
 Now since this complex can't but be 
 The sum of all these features, 
 
 What is original in me 
 Or other human creatures? 
 
 Sind nun die Elemente nicht 
 Aus dem Complex zu trennen, 
 Was ist denn an dem ganzen Wicht 
 Original zu nennen?] 
 
 Goethe owed to his mother his poetic genius, his talent for 
 story telHng, and his buoyancy of spirit. 
 
 Frau Aja, as Goethe's mother was called by her son, was 
 
 GOETHE'S FATHER.* 
 After a copper engraving in ■La.yater's Physiognomische Fragmente (1777). 
 
 much younger than her husband, and we know that their mar- 
 riage was not a love match. She was only seventeen and a half 
 years old when on August 1748 she joined her life to that of the 
 
 *The explanatory text reads: "Here is a pretty good like"^«= °f^*^Ji;- 
 cellent, skilful, order-loving, discreet and clever executive '"^"' ^'^o .h"!^^^-"' 
 made Ao pretense to a spark of poetic genius,-the father of the great man. 
 
70 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 THE GOETHE FAMILY OF FRANKFORT. 
 Painted in 1762 by the Darmstadt artist J. C. Seekatz for 60 gulden. 
 
 After the death of Goethe's mother this picture came into possession 
 of Bettma von Arnim who left it to her son-in-law, Hermann Grimm. Goethe 
 kept two of the artist's sketches of this picture in his collection. It is one of 
 these which is here reproduced. The oil painting differs slightly. 
 
His relation to women. 
 
 71 
 
 Counselor Johann Caspar Goethe who was her senior by nineteen 
 years. The warmth of the young wife's heart did not find the 
 
 
 THE ROOM OF FRAU RATH GOETHE. 
 After a drawing by E. Biichner. 
 
 response she sought in the care of her sober and paternal mate, 
 and so she lavished upon her son all th? sentiment and fervor 
 
 ^ 
 
72 GOETHE. 
 
 of which her soul was capable. Of six children she lost four^ 
 in early childhood, and only two, Wolfgang and Cornelia, sur- 
 vived. These sad bereavements only served to intensify her love 
 for her two remaining children. Others might have succumbed 
 to the gloom of melancholy, or their disposition would have 
 soured, not so Frau Aja. With all the tenderness of a young 
 woman's affection she clung to her children, especially to her 
 spritely boy, and she not only shared his joys when a child but 
 also the unreserved confidence of the youth and the man. With 
 him she renewed her girlhood days more as her son's companion 
 in his sometimes giddy pranks than as his educator and parent. 
 "My Wolfgang and I," she used to say, "always clung close to- 
 gether, because we were young together." 
 
 Frau Aja surrounded her son with her motherly love, remov- 
 ing from his life even in later years everything that could worry 
 him or cause him solicitude. For instance it is not commonly 
 known how much she did for him in pecuniary sacrifices at the 
 time when her illustrious son was well able to take care of his 
 own accounts. During the Napoleonic war Frankfort had to pay 
 a heavy contribution, and Goethe, owning some property there 
 though not a citizen of the free city, was directly affected. His 
 mother paid every penny of his share without ever referring to 
 her son, simply to spare him the worry of making these increased 
 payments. There is preserved in Weimar a little sheet con- 
 taining a few figures in Frau Aja's own handwriting which tell 
 us how much the poet's mother still cared for the comfort of 
 her son, and continued to spoil him with her motherly love. They 
 read as follows : 
 
 1778. 
 
 700 
 
 1782. 
 
 888 
 
 1782. 
 
 1000 
 
 1785. 
 
 1000 
 
 1794. 
 
 1000 
 
 1801. 
 
 1000 
 
 
 f. S588 
 
 
 600 
 
 f. 6188 
 
 Hermann Jacob, born in November, 1752, died in January, 1759; Catha- 
 nna Elisabeth, born in September, 1754, died in December, 1755; Johanna 
 T ^"^li'.'i™,.'" March, 1757, died in August, 1759; and Georg Adolf, born in 
 June, 1760, died in February, 1761, ' § . , v. , . 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 73 
 
 The sum of 6188 florins is more than twenty-five hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 It is true that Goethe's poetic nature needed the stimulation 
 of a woman's interest, but his relations to his women friends 
 were not frivolous. He was not unprincipled, but he dreaded 
 the indissoluble bond of marriage, and he carefully avoided giv- 
 ing any woman just cause to make a claim on his constancy. 
 He himself expressed this sentiment in a humorous poem entitled 
 Vorschlag sur Gute which might be translated simply "Proposal" 
 or "For Consideration." It reads in an English' translation 
 thus : 
 
 He : So well thou pleasest me, tny dear, 
 That as we are together here 
 I'd never like to part; 
 'Twould suit us both, sweet heart. 
 
 She : As I please you, so you please me. 
 Our love is mutual, don't you see? 
 Let's marry, and change rings, 
 Nor worry about other things. 
 
 He: We marry, darling, and for aye? 
 
 My heart grows faint, I must away. 
 
 She: Why hesitate? For then of course 
 If it won't work, we'll try divorce. 
 
 [Er: Du gefallst mir so wohl, niein liebes Kind, 
 Und wie wir hier bei einander sind, 
 So mocht' ich nimmer scheiden ; 
 Da war' es wohl uns Beiden. 
 
 Sie: Gefall' ich dir, so. gefiillst du mir; 
 Du sagst es frei, ich sag' es dir. 
 Eh nun! heirathen wir eben! 
 Das iibrige wird sich geben. 
 
 Er: Heirathen, Engel, ist wunderHch Wort; 
 
 Ich meint', da musst' ich gleich wieder fort. 
 
 Sie: Was ist's denn so grosses Leiden? 
 
 Geht's nicht, so lassen wir uns scheiden.] 
 
74 GOETHE. 
 
 Being fearful that he might marry some one who would be- 
 come a hindrance to him in his poetic work, Goethe was careful 
 not to be carried away by passion, and he expresses this principle 
 in another poem entitled Wahrer Genuss, i. e., "True Enjoy- 
 ment," where he says: 
 
 Wouldst not be tied in holy bondage, 
 Oh youth, practice control of thee. 
 Thus mayest thou preserve thy freedom. 
 Nor yet without attachment be. 
 
 [Soli dich kein heilig Band umgeben, 
 O Jiingling, schranke selbst dich ein ! 
 Man kann in wahrer Freiheit leben 
 Und doch nicht ungebunden sein.] 
 
 We have reason to believe that Goethe's relations with women 
 were dominated by this maxim, and in more advanced years 
 when his fame had made him more attractive he fortified him- 
 self against temptations and all advances by the fair sex as 
 expressed in the following rhyme : 
 
 Only this time be not caught as yet, 
 And a hundred times you escape the net. 
 
 [Einmal nicht gefangen 
 1st hundertmal entgangen.] 
 
 Goethe's first love was of a very harmless character. It was 
 in the year 1764 when he was a mere boy of fifteen, and his 
 adored one, Gretchen, was a few years his senior, probably seven- 
 teen or eighteen years old, — a good-natured girl whom the vicis- 
 situdes of life had rendered both modest and pensive, so as to 
 impress the bold stripling with the dignity of a pure soul. For 
 instance once, when she had rebuked him for entering into the 
 silly jokes of- his friends he was so infatuated with the lovely 
 girl that he wanted to embrace her, but she stood aloof. "Don't 
 kiss me," said she, "that is vulgar; but love me if you can." 
 
 Gretchen seems to have been an orphan, presumably the 
 daughter of an inn-keeper at Offenbach, and was brought up 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 75 
 
 in the house of relatives. Her family name is not known. At 
 her home the young Goethe became acquainted with a man 
 
 GRETCHEN. 
 By Kaulbach. 
 
 whom he recommended to his father for a position, and when 
 the youth's protege turned out to be a scoundrel, an investigation 
 
76 GOETHE. 
 
 ensued in which Gretchen spoke of the young Wolfgang as a 
 "boy," which offended him greatly. The following comment in 
 "Truth and Fiction" describes Goethe's sentiments at the dis- 
 illusionment of his first affection. Having related the result 
 of the investigation as told by his tutor, he continues : 
 
 "At last I could contain myself no longer, and asked what 
 had become of Gretchen, for whom I, once for all, confessed the 
 strongest attachment. My friend shook his head and smiled. 'Set 
 your mind at rest,' replied he, 'that girl has- passed her exam- 
 ination very well, and has borne honorable testimony to that ef- 
 fect. They could discover nothing in her but what was good and 
 amiable. She even won the favor of those who questioned her, 
 and who could not refuse to grant her desire to remove from the 
 city. Even what she confessed regarding you, my friend, does 
 her honor. I have read her deposition in the secret reports my- 
 self, and have seen her signature.' — 'That signature!' exclaimed 
 I, 'which makes me so happy and so miserable. What has she 
 confessed, then? What has she signed?' My friend hesitated 
 to reply, but the cheerfulness of his face showed me that he con- 
 cealed nothing dangerous. 'If you must know, then,' replied he 
 at last, 'when she was asked about you and her intercourse with 
 you, she said quite frankly, "I cannot deny that I have seen him 
 often and with pleasure; but I have always treated him as a 
 child, and my affection for him was truly that of a sister. In 
 many cases F gave him good advice and, instead of instigating 
 him to any equivocal action, I have hindered him from taking 
 part in wanton tricks, which might have brought him intxa 
 trouble." ' 
 
 "My friend still went on making Gretchen speak like a gover- 
 ness; but for some time I had ceased to listen to him. I was 
 terribly affronted that she had set me down in the reports as a 
 child, and I at once believed myself cured of all passion for her. 
 I even hastily assured my friend that all was over now. I also 
 spoke no more of her, named her no more ; but I could not leave 
 off the bad habit of thinking about her, and of recalling her face, 
 her hair, her demeanor, though now, to be sure, all appeared to 
 me in quite another light. I felt it intolerable that a girl, at the 
 most only a couple of years older than I, should regard me as 
 
HIS RELATION TO Women. 
 
 17 
 
 a child; while I had imagined that I passed with her for a very 
 sensible and clever youth." 
 
 A reminiscence of Gretchen is preserved in Goethe's "Faust" 
 in so far as the heroine bears her name. 
 
 Goethe's relation to his sister might well serve all brothers 
 as a model. We cannot characterize her better than in his own 
 words : 
 
 THE POET'S SISTER. 
 Drawn by Goethe, presumably in 1770. From the portfolio Juvenilia. 
 
 "She was tall, well and delicately formed, and had something 
 naturally dignified in her demeanor, which melted away into 
 pleasing mildness. The lineaments of her face, neither striking 
 nor beautiful, indicated a character which was not, nor ever could 
 be, in union with itself. Her eyes were not the finest I have ever 
 seen, but the deepest, behind which you expected the most; and 
 when they expressed any affection, any love, their brilliancy was 
 
GOETHE. 
 
 unequalled. And yet, properly speaking, this expression was 
 not tender, like that which comes from the heart carrying with 
 it at the same time something of longing and desire. This ex- 
 
 CORNELIA, GOETHE'S SISTER. 
 
 pression came from the soul ; it was full and rich and seemed as 
 if it would only give without needing to receive. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 79 
 
 "But what disfigured her face in a pecuhar manner so that 
 she would often appear positively ugly, was the fashion of those 
 times, which not only bared the forehead, but, either accidentally 
 or on purpose, did everything apparently or really to enlarge it. 
 Now, as she had the most feminine, most perfect arched fore- 
 head, and, moreover, a pair of strong black eyebrows and prom- 
 inent eyes, these circumstances occasioned a contrast, which if 
 it did not repel every stranger at the first glance, at least did not 
 attract him. She felt it at an early age ; and this feeling became 
 constantly the more painful to her, the farther she advanced into 
 the years when both sexes find an innocent pleasure in being 
 mutually agreeable. 
 
 "To nobody can his own form be repugnant. The ugliest, 
 as well as the most beautiful, has a right to enjoy his own pres- 
 ence; and as favor beautifies, and every one regards himself in 
 the looking glass with favor, it may be asserted that every one 
 must see himself with complacency, even if he would struggle 
 against the feeling. Yet my sister had such a decided founda- 
 tion of good sense, that she could not possibly be blind or silly 
 in this respect. On the contrary she perhaps knew more clearly 
 than she ought, that she stood far behind her female playmates 
 in external beauty, without feeling consoled by the fact that she 
 infinitely surpassed them in internal advantages. 
 
 "If a woman can find compensation for the want of beauty, 
 she richly found it in the unbounded confidence, the regard and 
 love, which all her female friends bore to her ; whether they were 
 older or younger, all cherished the same sentiments. A very 
 pleasant society had collected around her. Young men were not 
 wanting who knew how to insinuate themselves into it and nearly 
 every girl found an admirer; she alone had remained without a 
 partner. While, indeed, her exterior was in some measure repul- 
 sive, the mind that gleamed through it was also more repelling 
 than attractive ; for the presence of dignity puts a restraint upon 
 others. She felt, this sensibly ; she made no attempt to conceal 
 it from me, and her love was directed to me with all the greater 
 force. The case was singular enough. As confidants to whom 
 one reveals a love-affair actually by genuine sympathy become 
 lovers also, nay, grow into rivals, and at last, perchance, trans- 
 
80 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 fer the passion to themselves, so it was with us two. For, when 
 my connection with Gretchen was torn asunder, my sister con- 
 soled me the more earnestly, because she secretly felt the satis- 
 faction of having got rid of a rival; and I, too, could not but 
 feel a quiet, half-mischievous pleasure, when she did me the 
 
 JOHANN GEORG SCHLOSSER, 
 After a medallion by Becker. 
 
 justice to assure me that I was the only one who truly loved, 
 understood, and esteemed her." 
 
 In November, 1773, Cornelia was married to Schlosser, and 
 the newly married couple left for Strassburg. Her marriage was 
 not fortunate and she sought refuge in her brother's friendship. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 81 
 
 but he could offer no help. She died prematurely in Emmen- 
 dingen in 1777. 
 
 Her husband was a lawyer who served as private secretary 
 to the Duke of Wiirttemberg. In 1773 he accepted a position as 
 a state counselor of Baden at Carlsruhe, and after .an appoint- 
 ment as Oberamtmann at Emmendingen, he returned to Carlsruhe 
 
 CHARITAS MEIXNER. 
 After an oil painting. 
 
 in 1787 as director of the ducal court and retired in 1794. He 
 died at Frankfort in 1799 at the age of sixty. 
 
 * * * 
 
 One of Cornelia's friends was Charitas Meixner, a young 
 girl born in 1750 at Worms. While Goethe studied in Leipsic 
 he devoted some passing attention to her, as appears from his 
 correspondence with her cousin, a young Mr. Trap. We know 
 too little about her to form an adequate idea of her character 
 
82 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 and the influence she might have had on the young poet. She 
 afterwards married a merchant of Worms by the name of 
 Schuler, and died at the age of twenty-seven years. 
 
 At Frankfort CorneHa was visited by some friends who 
 played a part in her brother's Hfe. They were Frau Betty Jacobi, 
 the wife of Fritz Jacobi, and Johanna Fahh-ner, a younger sister 
 of Fritz Jacobi's mother, with her niece, Fritz Jacobi's half- 
 sister Lolo. Fraiilein Fahlmer was a daughter of her father's 
 second wife and considerably younger than her nephews. Being 
 
 >^^if '-x 
 
 BETTY JACOBI, NI^E VON CLER- 
 MONT. 
 
 JOHANNA EAHLMERIN OLD AGE. 
 
 Jacobi's aunt she was called "Auntie" (Tantchen) even as a 
 young girl, and in Goethe's letters she always figured as Auntie 
 Fahlmer. These three young women contributed not a little to 
 cement a friendship between Goethe and Fritz Jacobi which in 
 spite of profound difference of religious conviction lasted to the 
 end of their lives. The maiden name of Helene Elisabeth Jacobi 
 (called Betty) was Von Clermont. . She was born October 5, 
 1743, and died prematurely on February 9, 1784. She was of 
 Dutch nationality and was married in 1 764 to Fritz Jacobi. Her 
 visit to Frankfort falls in the year 1773. Goethe was very fond 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 83 
 
 of her and describes her in "Truth and Fiction" as genuinely 
 Dutch in her appearance, "without the sHghtest sentimentality in 
 her feehng, true, cheerful in speech, a splendid Dutch woman, 
 who without any trace of sensuality reminds one of the plump 
 type of Rubens's women." 
 
 Auntie Fahlmer was born June 16, 1744, at Dtisseldorf and 
 died October 31, 1821, in her native city. She visited Frankfort 
 
 KITTY SCHONKOPF. 
 
 during the summer of 1772 and the spring of 1774. She was a 
 friend of both Wolfgang and Cornelia Goethe and became more 
 and more attached to the latter after her marriage, and during 
 the years 1773-1777 she carried on a lively correspondence with 
 Goethe. Somewhat more than a year after Cornelia's death, 
 June 8, 1777, she became the wife of the widower Johann George 
 
84 GOETHE. 
 
 Schlosser. The only procurable picture of her is a portrait made 
 at an advanced age. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Kitty Schonkopf, the "Aennchen" of Goethe's autobiography, 
 was a pretty and attractive girl, but, being the daughter of the 
 proprietor of a restaurant where Goethe took his dinners during 
 the summer of 1766, she was not of a distinguished family. 
 Their courtship was much disturbed by jealousy and whims, 
 which finally led to a rupture. ' The main cause of the trouble 
 seems to have been the restless character of the young poet, who 
 felt that his interest would not be lasting, and who was almost 
 afraid to tie himself permanently to her by marriage. Kitty 
 was married in 1770 to Dr. Karl Kanne, later vice-mayor of 
 Leipsic. 
 
 This flirtation at Leipsic (in 1766) with "Aennchen" was of 
 a transient nature and did not leave a deep impression on the 
 poet's heart. So we may regard his romance with Friederike 
 Brion of Sesenheim as the first true love affair of his life. 
 
 * * * 
 
 At Strassburg Goethe had taken dancing lessons at the house- 
 of a French dancing master, whose two daughters were in love 
 with the young poet, and one day the older one, jealous of her 
 sister, kissed him, and solemnly cursed the w^oman who would 
 be the first to kiss him again. The scene is dramatically told in 
 Goethe's autobiography, . and the unhappy victim of this curse 
 was to be Friederike. 
 
 A- student by the name of Wieland introduced Goethe to the 
 Brion family. The father, a Huguenot of French extraction, 
 was a Protestant clergyman at Sesenheim, a village about twenty 
 miles from Strassburg. He had six children; one of his daugh- 
 ters was married, while the two youngest lived at home. The 
 name of the elder of these two was Maria Salome, and Friederike, 
 the youngest daughter of the Brion family (born April 19, 1752), 
 was just nineteen years of age, with blue questioning eyes and a 
 most alluring smile, not exactly beautiful, but very attractive, and 
 unusually responsive. No wonder that the young poet's heart 
 was at once aflame. The time was spent in lively conversation on 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 85 
 
 KAULBACH'S BRION FAMILY. 
 
 Friederike is reading The Vicar of WakeHeld, to the characters of 
 which story Goethe compared the inmates of the Sesenheim par- 
 sonage. 
 
86 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield and other hterary topics, in 
 moonlight promenades, dances and rural frolics, until Goethe was 
 so thrilled with youth and love that, forgetful of the French 
 damsel's curse, he yielded to the temptation and pressed a kiss 
 upon her yielding lips. -. 
 
 FRIEDERIKE'S HOME, THE PARSONAGE AT SESENHEIM. 
 
 After an oil painting formerly in the possession of A. Storber, now in the. 
 Freie Deutsche Hochstift at Frankfort on the Main. 
 
 Can we doubt that the lines of his poem "To the Moon" 
 have reference to Friederike's love when he says : 
 
 Once that prize did I possess 
 Which I yearn for yet, 
 ■ And alas ! to my distress-, 
 Never can forget. 
 
 [Ich besass es doch einmal. 
 Was so kostlich ist ! 
 Dass man doch zu seiner Qual 
 Nimmer es vergisst!] 
 
 No wonder that Goethe never forgot this idyllic courtship 
 and that the remembrance of it seemed to gain in power with 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 87 
 
 his advancing age. George Henry Lewes, on his visit to Weimar 
 met some persons then living who had known the great poet 
 personally. He says with reference to Friederike : "The secre- 
 
 FALK'S FRIEDERIKE PORTRAIT. 
 Found among Lenz's papers. 
 
88 GOETHE. 
 
 tary to whom this episode was dictated, told me how much 
 affected Goethe seemed to be as these scenes revisited his memory. 
 Walking up and down the room with his hands behind him, he 
 often stopped his walk and paused in the dictation; then after, 
 a long silence, followed by a deep sigh, he continued the narra- 
 tive in a lower tone." 
 
 It is to be regretted that we have no portrait of Friederike 
 which can be considered as unequivocally authentic. Among 
 the papers of the poet Lenz, however, a pencil drawing has been 
 found which represents a youthful girl in Alsacian costume who 
 may very probably be this much wooed daughter of the Sesen- 
 heim parson. There is a great . probability that such is the case 
 
 FRIEDERIKE'S AUTOGRAPH. 
 
 but we have no positive evidence. The handwriting of Friede- 
 rike, however, is still preserved, and we reproduce here one of 
 the best known specimens of it from an envelope addressed to 
 Goethe. 
 
 There are many readers of Goethe's autobiography who be- 
 come so charmed with the loveliness of Friederike that they 
 cannot forgive the poet for not having married her. Some. have 
 gone so far as to attack him most violently and censure him for 
 a breach of faith. They forget that their accusations are based 
 on evidence furnished exclusively by the accused person himself. 
 That Goethe had never a harsh word for her certainly does not 
 speak against him, and we must assume that there were weighty 
 reasons which led to the rupture. In fact he accuses himself, 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 89 
 
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90 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 GOETHE PARTING FROM FRIEDERIKE. 
 By Eugen Klimsch. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 91 
 
 not at all considering himself blameless although he felt that he 
 could not have acted differently; We will quote the most im- 
 portant passage on the subject from his autobiography. When 
 he wrote her that he would have to leave she answered in a most 
 touching way. Goethe says : 
 
 "Friederike's answer to my farewell letter rent my heart. It 
 was the same hand, the same tone of thought, the same feeling 
 which was formed for me and by me. I now for the first time 
 felt the loss which she suffered, and saw no means to supply it or 
 even alleviate it. I was always conscious that I missed her ; and, 
 what was worst of all, I could not forgive myself for my own 
 misfortune. G'retchen had been taken away from me; Annette 
 
 SESENHEIM. 
 had left me ; now, for the first time, I was the guilty one. I' had 
 wounded her lovely heart to its very depths ; and the period of a 
 gloomy repentance, with the absence of the refreshing love to 
 which I had grown accustomed, was most agonizing, nay, in- 
 tolerable." 
 
 Further on Goethe continues: 
 
 "At the time when I was pained by my grief at Friederike's 
 situation, I again sought aid from poetry after my old fashion. 
 I again continued my wonted poetical confession in order that by 
 this self-tormenting penance I might be worthy absolution in 
 my own eyes. The two Marias in 'G5tz von Berlichmgen' and 
 'Clavigo,' and the two bad characters who act the parts of their 
 lovers, may have been the results of such penitent reflections. 
 
92 GOETHE. 
 
 When Goethe speaks of first love as the only true love he 
 apparently has reference to his love for Friederike, not to his 
 prior and more boyish flirtations with Gretchen and Annette 
 Schonkopf; and this explains why he cherished this episode of 
 his life with such tenderness. Goethe says : 
 
 "The first love, it is rightly said, is the only one; for in the 
 second, and by the second, the highest sense of love is already 
 lost. The conception of the eternal and infinite which elevates 
 and supports love is destroyed; and it appears transient like 
 everything else that recurs." 
 
 The correspondence between Goethe and Friederike has been 
 destroyed, which fact proves that both parties shunned publicity. 
 However, Goethe remembered Friederike's love, and set up for 
 her an everlasting monument in the story of his Sesenheim 
 romance, while ever afterward he carefully endeavored to crowd 
 out from his mind all memories that would disfigure these recol- 
 lections so dear to him. In Goethe's autobiography Friederike 
 appears of such natural and lovely charm that her personality 
 has remained one of the favorite women characters of German 
 literature. She died April 3, 1813, at the house of her sister, 
 Frau Pfarrer Marx at Meissenheim, and on her tombstone two 
 simple lines are inscribed : 
 
 Upon her fell a ray of poesy, 
 So bright it lent her immortality. 
 
 . [Ein Strahl der Dichtersonne fiel auf sie, 
 So hell dass er Unsterblichkeit ilir lieh.] 
 
 Goethe's description of Friederike has made Sesenheim a 
 place of pilgrimage to lovers of German literature, and the first 
 distinguished visitor of the old Brion parsonage was the poet 
 Ludwig Tieck in the summer of 1822, but he expressed his dis- 
 appointment by saying that in a certain sense he "repented 
 having visited Sesenheim." He adds, "'repented' is not the 
 word, but an unpoetic sadness fills me to find that everything 
 there is so different from the picture my imagination formed 
 according to the incomparable description of our poet." 
 
 In the autumn of the same year (1822) Professor Naeke, of 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 93 
 
 Bonn, visited Sesenheim and was greatly disillusioned at the 
 report of Pastor Schweppenhauser, the successor of Friederike's 
 father in that rural parsonage. The real Friederike was some- 
 what different from the poetical figure of Goethe's autobiography. 
 Naeke wrote down his impressions under the title of "A Pil- 
 grimage to Sesenheim," and having stated the result of his in- 
 vestigations concludes his report with an expression of satis- 
 faction that she had no reason to reproach Goethe for her mis- 
 fortunes. Naeke's "Pilgrimage to Sesenheim" remained un- 
 printed until 1840, when it was published by Varnhagen von 
 Ense, but a copy of the manuscript had been sent to Goethe at 
 the time, and he made the following comment which appears to 
 be all he ever cared to say on the subject:^ 
 
 "In order to give brief expression to my thoughts about the 
 news from Sesenheim I shall make use of a symbol of general 
 physics derived more particularly, however, from entoptics; I 
 shall speak here of repeated reflections of light. 
 
 "1. A blessed youthful delusion (Wahnleben) unconsciously 
 reflects itself forcibly in the young man. 
 
 "2. The image long cherished, and probably revived, surges 
 ever to and fro, gracious and lovely, before his inner vision for 
 many years. 
 
 "3. Tenderly received in early years and long retained, finally 
 in vivid remembrance it is given external expression and is once 
 more reflected. 
 
 "4. This image radiates in all directions into the world, and 
 a fine, noble heart may be charmed by this appearance as if it were 
 the reality, and receives from it a deep impression. 
 
 "5. From this is developed an inclination to actualize all that 
 may still be conjured up out of the past. 
 
 "6. The longing grows, and that it may be gratified it be- 
 comes indispensably necessary to return once more to the spot 
 in order to make his own the vicinity at least. 
 
 "7. Here by happy chance is found on the commemorated 
 
 'This short article is inscribed Wiederholte Spiegelungen |i. ?;■ "f„Tfof 
 or continued mirrorings"), and is registered ""^er hat title n the index of 
 any edition of Goethe's complete works.. It was publ^hed first m his posthu 
 mous works 1833, Vol. IX, and is contained m his complete works as No. 11/ 
 in the volume entitled Aufsatze sur Ltteratur. 
 
94 GOETHE. 
 
 spot a sympathetic and weli-informed man upon whom the image 
 has hkewise been impressed. 
 
 "8. Now in the locality which had been in some respects deso- 
 lated, it becomes possible to restore a true image, to construct a 
 second presence from the wrecks of truth and tradition, and to 
 love Friederike in her entire lovableness of yore. 
 
 "9. Thus in spite of all earthly intervention she can again be 
 once more reflected in the soul of her old lover, and charmingly 
 revive in him a pure, noble and living presence. 
 
 "When we consider that repeated moral mirrorings not only 
 vividly revive the past but even ascend to a higher life, then we 
 think of the entoptic phenomena which likewise do not fade from 
 mirror to mirror but are kindled all the more. Thus we shall 
 obtain a symbol of what has often been repeated in the history 
 of the arts and sciences, of the church and even of the political 
 world, and is still repeated every day. 
 
 "January 31, 1823." 
 
 We can now understand those other lines in Goethe's ode 
 "To the Moon," when the poet sighs : 
 
 Flow along, dear river, flow; [Fliesse, fliesse, lieber Fluss; 
 
 Joy for aye is sped. Nimmer werd' icli froh ! 
 
 Glee and kisses even so, So verrauschte Scherz und Kuss, 
 
 Yea, and troth have fled. Und die Treue so.] 
 
 Historical investigations have led to a bitter discussion, the 
 extremes of which are represented on the one side by I. Froitz- 
 heim,^ on the other by Diintzer, Erich Schmidt, Bielowski, etc. 
 Although an idealist would be naturally inclined to take Diin- 
 tzer's view of the case, we can not ignore Goethe's own state- 
 ments which, though very guardedly, concede the reliability of 
 Naeke's information. We know further that Friederike was 
 engaged for some time to Jacob Michael Reinhold Lenz, one of 
 the minor German poets and a personal friend of Goethe, but that 
 he too found cause to break off the engagement. 
 
 It is impossible to deny the pertinence of these and other 
 
 " In protest against the exaggerated glorification of Friederike by certain 
 hero-worshipers, Dr. I. Froitzheim followed up the scent of Professor Naeke 
 and published the result of his investigations under the title, Friederike von 
 Sesenheim nach geschichtlichen Quellen (Gotha, F. A. Perthes, 1893). 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 95 
 
 facts, but on the other hand we need not (as does Froitzheim) 
 begrudge to Friederike the honor of the inscription on her tomb- 
 stone. Friederike was human, perhaps too human, but her foible 
 was the same as Goethe's. The suffering she endured for her 
 fault was sufficient atonement. We must remember that even the 
 severest critics of her character grant that she was full of grace 
 and loveliness, not a striking beauty but of rare charm, capable 
 of intense devotion, charitable, self-sacrificing and thirsting for 
 love. Even when her youth was gone she could fascinate men 
 of talent and set their hearts aflame with passion. There is no 
 need to require her to be a saint, and we might as well repeat of 
 her the words of Christ, "Her sins which are many are forgiven, 
 for she loved much." 
 
 While convalescent in Frankfort from his Leipsic illness, 
 Goethe became acquainted with Fraulein Susanna Catharina von 
 Klettenberg, an old lady and a friend of his mother. She be- 
 longed to the Moravian church and took a great interest in 
 religious mysticism which made a deep impression on Goethe 
 without, however, converting him to pietism. Her personality 
 is mirrored in the "Confessions of a Beautiful Soul" incorporated 
 in his novel "Wilhelm Meister." Goethe here made use of her 
 letters, explained and enlarged by personal conversation with 
 her, and it is commonly assumed that as to facts and sometimes 
 even in the letter of descriptions she is virtually to be considered 
 as the author of this autobiography. 
 
 "The Confessions of a Beautiful Soul" is of extraordinary 
 interest and belongs to Goethe's most attractive sketches, depict- 
 ing a pure and truly pious personality. In her childhood the 
 author of these "Confessions" had been thrown upon herself by 
 a severe disease which cut her off from the sports of childhood. 
 "My soul became all feeling, all memory," says she, "I suffered 
 and I loved : this was the peculiar structure of my heart. In the 
 most violent fits of coughing, in the depressing pains of fever, 
 I lay quiet, like a snail drawn back within its house : the moment 
 I obtained a respite, I wanted to enjoy something pleasant; and, 
 as every other pleasure was denied me, I endeavored to amuse 
 
96 GOETHE. 
 
 myself with the innocent delights of eye and ear. People brought 
 me dolls and picture-books, and whoever would sit by my bed 
 was obliged to tell me something." 
 
 She regained her health and tells of her studies, but her en- 
 joyments lacked the giddiness of childhood. Only gradually did 
 she become fond of dancing, and for a while at this time her 
 fancy was engaged by two brothers, but both died and faded 
 from her memory. Later on she became acquainted with a young 
 courtier whom she calls Narcissus, and on one occasion when 
 he was attacked and wounded by a quick tempered officer, she 
 became engaged to him and cherished this young man with great 
 tenderness. In the meantime her relation to God asserted itself 
 at intervals. For a while she says (and these are her very words) 
 "Our acquaintance had grown cool," and later on she continues : 
 "With God I had again become a little more acquainted. He 
 had given me a bridegroom whom I loved, and for this I felt 
 some thankfulness. Earthly love itself concentrated my soul, 
 and put its powers in motion ; nor did it contradict my intercourse 
 with God." 
 
 But Narcissus was a courtier and wanted a society wornan 
 for a wife, while she found social enjoyments more and more 
 insipid. They disturbed her relations with God, so much so in- 
 deed that she felt estranged from him. She says : "I often went 
 to bed with tears, and, after a sleepless night, arose again with 
 tears : I required some strong support ; and God would not vouch- 
 safe it me while I was running with cap and bells And 
 
 doing what I now looked upon as folly, out of no taste of my 
 own, but merely to gratify him, it all grew wofully irksome to 
 me." 
 
 The lovers became cool and the engagement was broken off, 
 — not that she no longer loved him. She says in this auto- 
 biography: "I loved him tenderly; as it were anew, and much 
 more steadfastly than before. 
 
 Nevertheless he stood between herself and God and for the 
 same reason she refused other suitable proposals. Her reputa- 
 tion did not suffer through the rupture with her fiance. On the 
 contrary the general interest in her grew considerably because 
 she was regarded as "the woman who had valued God above her 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 97 
 
 bridegroom." In passing over further particulars of the Hfe of 
 the "Beautiful Soul," we will quote her view of hell: 
 
 "Not for a moment did the fear of hell occur to me; nay, 
 the very notion of a wicked spirit, and a place of punishment 
 and torment after death, could nowise gain admission into the 
 circle of my thoughts. I considered the men who lived without 
 
 SUSANNA VON KLETTENBERG IN HER FORTY-FOURTH YEAR. 
 In the National Museum at Weimar. 
 
 God, whose hearts were shut against the trust in and the love of 
 the Invisible, as already so unhappy, that a hell and external 
 pains appeared to promise rather an alleviation than an increase 
 of their misery. I had but to look upon the persons in this world 
 who in their breasts gave scope to hateful feelings; who hardened 
 their hearts against the good of whatever kind, and strove to 
 
98 GOETHE. 
 
 force the evil on themselves and others ; who shut their eyes by- 
 day, so that they might deny the shining of the sun. How un- 
 utterably wretched did these persons seem to me! Who could 
 have devised a hell to make their situation worse?" 
 
 Finally through the influence of her uncle and a friendly 
 counsellor whom she calls Philo she found composure of mind 
 which she expresses thus : 
 
 "It was as if my soul were thinking separately from the 
 body; the soul looked upon the body as a foreign substance, as 
 we look upon a garment. The soul pictured with extreme vivacity 
 events and times long past, and felt, by means of this, events that' 
 were to follow. Those times are all gone by ; what follows like- 
 wise will go by ; the body, too, will fall to pieces like a vesture ; 
 but I, the well-known I, I am." 
 
 She does not consider her life as a sacrifice but on the con- 
 trary as me attainment of an unspeakable joy. She says at the 
 conclusion of her autobiography : 
 
 "I scarcely remember a commandment : to me there is nothing 
 that assumes the aspect of law; it is an impulse that leads me, 
 and guides me always aright. I freely follow my emotions, 
 and know as little of constraint as of repentance. God be praised 
 that I know to whom I am indebted for such happiness, and that 
 I cannot think of it without humility ! There is no danger I 
 should ever become proud of what I myself can do or can for- 
 bear to do : I have seen too well what a monster might be formed 
 and nursed in every human bosom, did not a higher influence 
 restrain us." 
 
 The nobility of character of Fraulein von Klettenberg, of 
 this "Beautiful Soul," contributed not a little to purify the young 
 poet's mind, and her interest in mysticism caused him to study 
 alchemy and to read the works of Theophrastus, Paracelsus, 
 Agrippa von Nettesheim and other occultists, the study of whose 
 books proved helpful in the composition of "Faust." We have 
 evidence that this thoughtful and mystical lady had fantastic in- 
 clinations, for when one of her friends, Fraulein von Wunderer, 
 entered the Cronstatt Institute, Susanne had her own portrait 
 painted for her in the dress of a nun. The picture came into 
 Goethe's possession in 1815. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 99 
 
 At Wetzlai- on the Lahn Goethe met Charlotte Buff, the 
 daughter of an imperial government official. She acted as a 
 real mother to her many younger brothers and sisters and was 
 engaged to be married to Kestner, secretary to the Hanoverian 
 legation. Goethe felt greatly attracted to tlie young lady and, 
 being at the same time a good and fast friend of Kestner, was 
 
 /r«^^iyi' '^'i. 
 
 CHARLOTTE SOPHIE HENRIETTE BUFF. 
 
 Later on wife of Johann Christian Kestner. Redrawn from a 
 
 pastel in the possession of Georg Kestner of Dresden. 
 
 a constant visitor at the home of her father in the Deutsche 
 Haus. Charlotte was made the heroine of "The Sorrows of 
 Werther," and as Goethe's acquaintance with her was followed 
 by the sad fate of his friend Jerusalem, the combination sug- 
 gested to him the tragic. plot of this novel. j 
 
100 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 THE DEUTSCHE HAUS, SHOWING THE WINDOWS OF CHAR- 
 LOTTE'S ROOM. 
 
 CHARLOTTE BUFFS ROOM IN THE DEUTSCHE HAUS AT 
 WETZLAR. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 101 
 
 In those days Goethe was in an irritable and ahuost patho- 
 logical condition. He experienced in his own mind a deep long- 
 ing for an escape from the restlessness of life, and in his auto- 
 biography he speaks of "the efforts and resolutions it cost him 
 to escape the billows of death." His friend Merck came to the 
 rescue. From the dangerous atmosphere of Wetzlar he took him 
 
 FRAU SOPHIE VON LA ROCHE, 
 on a visit to the jolly circle of Fran Sophie von La Roche at 
 Ehrenbreitstein. 
 
 Goethe had met Frau von La Roche in the precedmg April 
 (1772) in Homburg, and he was glad to renew the fnendship 
 at this critical moment of his life. Born December 6, 1731, 
 Sophie von La Roche was the daughter of Dr. Gutermann, a 
 physician of Kaufbeuren, and was a relative and childhood com- 
 
102 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 panion of Wieland, whose friend she remained throughout her 
 Hfe. In 1754 she married Georg Michael Frank von Lichtenfels, 
 surnamed La Roche. As an author she is best known by "Ro- 
 salie's Letters to Her Friend Mariane." She had two beautiful 
 daughters. While in Ehrenbreitstein Goethe passed the time 
 with Maximiliana in a harmless but entertaining flirtation, before 
 
 FRAU MAXIMILIANA BRENTANO. 
 Daughter of Sophie von La Roche, and mother of Bettina von Arnim. 
 
 she was married to an older and jealous husband, Mr. Brentano. 
 Frau von La Roche removed with her husband to Speyer and 
 later to Offenbach where she died February 18, 1807. 
 
 The novels and moral tales of Frau von La Roche were 
 much read in those days. In a somewhat sentimental language 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 103 
 
 She advocated marriage for love's sake, but she herself did what 
 she condemned other mothers for; she urged her daughters to 
 accept aged husbands for the sake of worldly advantages Bet- 
 tma, the daughter of Maximiliana, will be mentioned further on 
 
 ANNA ELISABETH SCHOENEMANN: GOETHE'S LILI. 
 
 During the winter of 1774-75 Goethe became acquainted 
 with Anna Elisabeth Schonemann, the daughter of a rich banker, 
 a pretty girl of sixteen but a spoiled child and a flirt. He called 
 her Lili, and devoted several poems to her which are exceedingly 
 poetical but at the same time betray his dissatisfaction with the 
 
104 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 charms of the fascinating young lady. In "Lili's Park" he com- 
 pares her many lovers to a menagerie and himself to a bear 
 
 LILI'S MENAGERIE. 1\\- Kaulbach. 
 
 who d()es not fit intn tlie circle of his mistress at the Schonemann 
 residence. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 105 
 
 In April 1775 Goethe was officially engaged to Lili, but the 
 engagement lasted only into May; since both families were op- 
 posed to it, it was soon revoked. Three years later, she was 
 married to the Strassburg banker Bernhard Friedrich von Tiirck- 
 heim. She died near Strassburg in 1817. 
 
 The poems "New Love, New Life" ; "To Belinde," and "Lih's 
 Park" are dedicated to her, and some later songs made in Wei- 
 mar, "Hunter's Evening Song" and "To a Golden Heart" Goethe 
 wrote in remembrance of Lili. 
 
 While Goethe's heart was still troubled with his love for Lili, 
 he received an anonymous letter signed "Gustchen." The writer 
 gained his confidence and he answered with unusual frankness, 
 telling her of all that moved him and especially of the joys and 
 disappointments of his courtship with Lili. This correspondence 
 developed into a sincere and pure friendship with his unknown 
 correspondent, and Goethe soon found out that Gustchen was 
 the countess Augusta Stolberg, the sister of his friends, the 
 brothers Stolberg. 
 
 Li the summer of 1775 when Goethe visited his friends Bod- 
 mer and Lavater in Zurich, the, latter introduced him to his friend 
 Frau Barbara Schulthess, nee Wolf, the wife of a merchant in 
 Zurich. At first sight she was not particularly attractive nor was 
 she brilliant in conversation, but she had a strong character and 
 impressed her personality upon all with whom she came in con- 
 tact. -Her connection with Goethe has not been sufficiently 
 appreciated, presumably because two years before her death 
 (1818) she burned all the letters she had received from him. 
 We know, however, that Goethe submitted to her most of his 
 new productions, among them "Iphigenia," "Tasso" and "Wilhelm 
 Me'ister," and he appears to have been greatly influenced by her 
 judgment. He calls her die Hcrdiclie, "my cordial friend." He 
 is known to have met her- on only two occasions afterwards, m 
 1782 and again on October 23, 1797. Herder characterizes her 
 briefly as follows : 
 
 "Frau Schulthess, to be brief, is a she-man (Mdnnin). She 
 
1 06 GOETHE. 
 
 says almost nothing, and acts without any show of verbiage. She 
 is not beautiful, nor well educated, only strong and firm without 
 
 BARBARA SCHULTHESS. 
 After a painting by Tischbein (1781) in possession of Dr. Denzler-Ernst 
 
 of Zurich. 
 
 coarseness. She is stern and proud without spreading herself, 
 an excellent woman and a splendid mother. Her silence is in- 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 107 
 
 MIGNON IN WILHELM MEISTER. 
 By Kaulbach. 
 
108 GOETHE. 
 
 structive criticism. To me she is a monitor and a staff .... She 
 is only useful through silence. She only receives and does not 
 give from pure humility, from true pride." 
 
 Through her a most important work of Goethe's has been 
 preserved, which is nothing less than his original conception of 
 "Wilhelm Meister." It is not merely a variation of the one finally 
 published, but a different novel altogether, three times as large 
 in extent. It bore the title Wilhelm Meister's theatralische Sen- 
 dung, and was written in 1777. Goethe sent it to Frau Schulthess, 
 familiarly called Bebe, in 1783, and the entire manuscript was 
 copied partly by herself, partly 'by her daughter. This copy was 
 discovered by Dr. Gustav Villeter, Professor at the Zurich Gym- 
 nasium, to wliom it was brought by one of his scholars. It has 
 been edited by Dr. H. Mayn/ and was published in 1910. 
 
 sjc ^ }): 
 
 When speaking of the women who played a part in Goethe's 
 life we must not forget Corona Schroter (born January 17, 1751, 
 at Guben). She had met Goethe as a student in Leipsic and had 
 at that time been greatly impressed by the charm of his personal- 
 ity. In 1776 she was engaged as a concert singer in court circles 
 at Weimar, and to her were assigned the heroine parts of romantic 
 love dramas. The most critical minds were agreed in regarding 
 her as one of the greatest stars in her specialty, and she was also 
 a great favorite with Goethe who sometimes appeared with her 
 on the stage. She was the first Iphigenia and acted the role 
 with Goethe as Orestes. A good drawing of one of these scenes 
 was made by Georg Melchior Kraus. Corona's whole appear- 
 ance was such as worthily to represent the Greek heroine. The 
 audience was confined to the ducal court of Weimar,' and no 
 other public was admitted. In Kraus's picture the scenery is 
 in so far misleading as it suggests that the play was performed 
 in the open air at Ettersburg, but we know definitely that "Iphi- 
 genia" was first performed indoors. 
 
 Later on Corona Schroter became a successful teacher of reci- 
 tation and singing, and many of the most distinguished Weimar 
 ladies were her pupils. She was also an exquisite and gifted 
 painter and composer. She set to music Goethe's "Fisher Maiden" 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 109 
 
 of which the Erl King is a part, and her composition of this 
 poem appears Hke a rough draft of Schubert's more elaborate, 
 more powerful and more artistic composition. 
 
 This little drama, Goethe's "Fisher Maiden," in which Corona 
 Schroter took the part of Dortchen, was performed on the banks 
 of the Ihn at Tiefurt, the summer residence of the Duchess 
 
 CORONA SCHROETER.* 
 By Anton Graff. 
 Anna Amaha, and has been portrayed in a wash drawing by 
 Georg Melchior Kraus. The picture represents the first scene. 
 Dortchen is enraged because she contends that women are not 
 appreciated. She contrives a plot in which she makes it appear 
 *The fjicture is not definitely identified,, but judging fro"l tradition and 
 its similarity to a known portrait of the s.nger there can scarcely be any 
 doubt that she is the subject of the panitmg. 
 
lio Gofitafe. 
 
 that there has been an accident. She hides one pail, places an- 
 other on a plank near the water, and throws her hat among the 
 bushes so that her father and lover will think she is drowned. 
 After these preparations, she disappears in the woods just as the 
 men return in their boat. They take alarm as she desired, but 
 
 IPHIGENIA AND ORESTES. 
 By Georg Melchior Kraus. 
 
 after a while their fears are dissolved when she returns and sets 
 their minds at rest. 
 
 The field of Corona Schroter's activity was not lirtiited to 
 the stage, for she was endowed with almost every other talent. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 Ill 
 
112 GOETHE. 
 
 Moreover her charming personality was like an incarnation of 
 the heroines she represented. When Wieland first met her to- 
 gether with her great poet friend in the park, he described her 
 appearance in these strong terms : 
 
 CORONA SCHROETER. 
 By Georg Melchior Kraus. 
 
 "There we found Goethe in comjDany with the beautiful 
 Corona Schroter who in the infinitely noble Attic elegance of 
 her whole figure and in her quite simjDle yet infinitely recherche 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 113 
 
 and insidious costume looked like the nymph of the charmine 
 grotto." ^ 
 
 Goethe called her Krone, the German equivalent of Corona 
 
 FRIEDRICH HILDEBRAND VON EINSIEDEL. 
 Drawing by Schmeller. 
 
 meaning "crown," and in his poem "On Mieding's Death" refers 
 to her suggestive name in one of his verses, saying. 
 
114 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 And e'en the name Corona graces thee. 
 
 In the same passage he dwells on her advantage in being en- 
 dowed with beauty, a queenly figure, and all the arts, saying: 
 
 Unto the world she like a flower appears, 
 Is beauty's model in its finished state. 
 She, perfect, doth perfection personate. 
 The Muses did to her each grace impart 
 And nature in her soul created art. 
 
 — Tr. by Bowring. 
 
 H 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 H 
 
 ^^IM^^^^I^^^I 
 
 Hj 
 
 
 jmni 
 
 H 
 
 |i^^^^^*y 
 
 ^^a^^'^i^^^*^' ,.'Mg^W 
 
 ■ 
 
 CUPID FEEDING A NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 [Als Blume zeigt sie sich der Welt: 
 Zum Muster wuchs das schone Bild empor, 
 Vollendet nun, sie ist's und stellt es vor. 
 Es gonnten ihr die Musen jede Gunst, 
 Und die Natur erschuf in ihr die Kunst.] 
 
 In Weimar she was a favorite with almost every one and 
 was especially admired by Friedrich von Einsiedel. Goethe dedi- 
 cated to her the following lines inscribed beneath the statue of 
 a Cupid feeding a nightingale, which adorned the Chateau Tie- 
 furt: 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 115 
 
 Certainly Cupid has raised thee, 
 O singer ; himself he has fed thee, 
 
 And on his arrow the god 
 
 Childlike presented thy food. 
 
 Thus Philomele, thy throat, 
 
 Which is steeped in the sweetest of poisons, 
 
 Chanting thy strains without guile 
 
 Fills with love's power our hearts. 
 
 [Dich hat Amor gewiss, O Siingerin, fiitternd erzogen, 
 Kindisch reichte der Gott dir mit deni Pfeile die Kost, 
 So, durchdrungen von Gift die harmlos atmende Kehle, 
 Trifft mit der Liebe Gewalt nun Philomele das Herz!] 
 
 After Corona Schroter retired from the stage she made her 
 home in Ihnenau and died there August 23, 1802. 
 
 Anna Amaha, Duchess Dowager of Saxe-Weimar, plays a 
 most important part in Goethe's life; and her influence on his 
 destiny cannot be overestimated, for she was the guiding star 
 which led him to Weimar. The elevating spirit in which she 
 dominated the social atmosphere of the small duchy contributed 
 not a little to mature the untamed spirit of the wild young genius. 
 
 Anna Amalia was the daughter of the Duke Karl of Bruns- 
 wick. She was born October 24, 1739, and was married to the 
 Duke Constantin of Saxe-Weimar, March 16, 17^6. Her hus- 
 band died on May 28, 1758, after a married life of only two 
 years, and she took the regency until her %on, the young Duke 
 Karl August, became of age, September 3, 1775. She proved 
 not only very efficient in the affairs of government but was also 
 a good mother and did her best to bestow upon her son a broad 
 and liberal education. When the Duke married Louise, the 
 daughter of the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt, these three royal 
 personages, the Duke, his mother, and his wife, formed an 
 auspicious trinity i ifflieir love and patronage of German Htera- 
 ture. 
 
 Even at an advanced age the Duchess preserved her beauty 
 and distinguished appearance, and when she retired from active 
 participation in the government, she concentrated her interest 
 in belles lettres, art and everything that tends to the cultivation 
 of the mind. She died at Weimar, April 10, 1807. 
 
 The painter Kraus immortalized the circle of the Duchess 
 
116 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Amalia in a watercolor which we here reproduce, and we may 
 assume that it represents a scene of actual life. The figures as 
 numbered in the picture are (1) Johann Heinrich Meyer, called 
 
 AMALIA, DUCHESS DOWAGER OF SAXE WEIMAR. 
 After a painting by Angelica Kauffmann. 
 
 Kunstmeyer, born in Zurich 1760; met Goethe on his Italian 
 journey 1786; was called as professor of drawing to. Weimar 
 1791; after 1807 director of the academy; died October 11, 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 117 
 
 1832, iri Jena. (2) Frau Henriette von Fritsch, nee Wolfskell, 
 lady-in-waiting. (3) Goethe. (4) Friedrich Hildebrand von 
 Einsiedel, councilor in the government at Weimar, later chief 
 
 DUCHESS DOWAGER AMALIA IN ADVANCED YEARS. 
 Etching 'by Steirila, after a painting by Jagemann. 
 
 master of ceremonies of Duchess Amalia. (5) Duchess Amalia. 
 (6) Elise Gore. (7) Charles Gore. (8) Emilie Gore. (9) 
 Fraulein von Gochhausen, lady-in-waiting. (10) Herder. Frau- 
 
118 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 lein von Gochhausen has come into prominence of late from the 
 fact that she copied Goethe's first draft of "Faust," and this docu- 
 
 ment was discovered by Professor Erich Schmidt in 1887. She 
 was one of the most faithful of the attendants of the duchess, 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 119 
 
 and in Goethe literature is sometimes simply called Thusnelda 
 and sometimes, on account of her deformity, Gnomide. 
 
 CASTLE KOCHBERG, MANSION ON THE STEIN ESTATE. 
 
 Drawn by Goethe. 
 Among the acquaintances Goethe made in Weimar was Char- 
 lotte von Stein, the wife of the Master of Horse. She was 
 
120 
 
 GOETHE, 
 
 seven years older than' Goethe and mother of seven childfett, to 
 the eldest of whom, called Fritz, Goethe was greatly attached. 
 
 FRIEDRICH CONSTANTIN VON STEIN (CALLED FRITZ). 
 
 Drawing by Schmeller, about 1819. 
 
 Goethe's correspondence with Charlotte von Stein "throws much 
 
 light upon the poet's thoughts and sentiments arid .explains the 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 121 
 
 origin of many of his poems. Among the poems dedicated to 
 her we will mention "Restless Love," "To Linda," "Dedication," 
 and above all the two short poems entitled "Wanderer's Night- 
 song."* 
 
 On his return from a journey to Italy Goethe's relations to 
 Frau von Stein had become cool. In 1788 he met Christiana 
 
 CHRISTIANA VULPIUS. 
 
 Vulpius who handed him a petition in favor of her brother. She 
 was the daughter of a talented man, who, however, had lost his 
 situation through love of liquor. Christiana's position in life 
 was a humble one. She worked in the flower factory of Mr. 
 'For the text and translations of these songs see pp. 217-219. 
 
122 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 123 
 
 Bertuch, a business man who had done much to develop Weimar 
 and of whom we have previously given some account.^ The 
 girl was a buxom countiy lass with rosy cheeks and a simple- 
 hearted disposition. Goethe took a fancy to her and used to meet 
 her in his garden house. We have a picture of her, drawn by 
 Goethe himself, which shows her as a demure maiden sitting 
 quietly at a simple table. On the wall hang pictures of Rome. 
 The small picture is Tischbein's sketch of his painting of Goethe 
 on the ruins of the Campagna.® 
 
 CHRISTIANA ASLEEP. 
 Drawn by Goethe in illustration of his poem. 
 
 Once it happened that Goethe kept Christiana waiting so long 
 that she grew first impatient, then sleepy, and when he arrived 
 he could not find her. Searching around he finally discovered 
 her curled up in the corner of a sofa fast asleep : 
 
 In the hall I did not find the maiden, 
 Found the maiden not within the parlor. 
 And at last on opening the chamber 
 Found I her asleep in graceful posture ; 
 Fully dressed she lay upon the sofa. 
 
 ' See page 37. 
 
 " See page 41. 
 
124 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 [Auf dem Saale fand ich nicht das Madchen, 
 Fand das Madchen nicht in ihrer Stube. 
 Endlich, da ich leis die Kammer offne, 
 Fand ich sie, gar zierlich eingeschlafen, 
 Angekleidet auf dem Sopha Hegen.] 
 
 Goethe brought her into his home where she took charge of 
 the household. A charming httle poem is dedicated to her 
 - which describes their meeting in a figurative way. In the trans- 
 lation of William Gibson it reads as follows : 
 
 I walked in the woodland, 
 And nothing sought ; 
 
 Simply to saunter — ■" 
 That was my thought. 
 
 I saw in shadow 
 
 A floweret rise, 
 Like stars it glittered, 
 
 Like lovely eyes. 
 
 I would have plucked it, 
 When low it spake : 
 
 'My bloom to wither. 
 Ah ! wherefore break ?' 
 
 I dug, and bore it, 
 
 Its roots and all. 
 To garden-shades of 
 
 My pretty hall. 
 
 And planted now in 
 A sheltered place. 
 
 There grows it ever 
 And blooms apace. 
 
 [Ich ging im Walde 
 So fiir mich bin, 
 Und nichts zu suchen, 
 Das war mein Sinn. 
 
 Im Schatten sah ich 
 Ein Bliimchen stehn, 
 Wie Sterne leuchtend, 
 Wie Aeuglein schon. 
 
 Ich wollt' es brechen, 
 Da sagt' es fein : 
 Soil ich zum Welkeii 
 Gebrochen sein? 
 
 Ich grub's mit alien 
 Den WUrzlein aus, 
 Zum Garten trug ich's 
 Am hiibschen Haus. 
 
 Und pflanzt' es wieder 
 Am stillen Ort; 
 Nun zweigt es immer 
 Und bliiht so fort.] 
 
 Goethe married Christiana October 19, 1806. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Madame Goethe was not welcomed socially in the homes of 
 Weimar, nor was her presence deemed desirable at court. .The 
 first lady who received her was Johanna Schopenhauer, the 
 mother of the famous pessimist. She had just moved to Weimar 
 in 1806 after the death of her husband, a banker of Danzig. 
 Johanna Schopenhauer was at the time a popular author, while 
 her son, the philosopher, was almost unknown. Goethe, how- 
 ever, prophesied that the gloomy young thinker would sometime 
 grow above the heads of his contemporaries, and the latter, con- 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 125 
 
 scious of his own importance, said to his mother in a dispute 
 about the worth of their respective writings, that his works, 
 then ignored, would be read when her novels would moulder in 
 the attic as waste paper. 
 
 On May 8, 1814, Goethe dedicated to the pessimist philos- 
 
 FRAU JOHANNA SCHOPENHAUER AND HER DAUGHTER, ADELE 
 
 opher two lines which the Schopenhauer Gesellschaft has pub- 
 lished in its first annual in Goethe's own handwriting as he wrote 
 it down for Schopenhauer "with reference to and in memory of 
 many friendly discussions." The couplet reads as follows: 
 
 "Willst du dich deines Werthes freuen, 
 So musst der Welt du Werth verleihen." 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 127 
 
 In this epigram Goethe has immortalized his critical view of 
 Schopenhauer's pessimism. This is the sum total of his opinion 
 of the badness of the world which he had discussed with Schopen- 
 hauer in many confidential talks, as Goethe himself says. The 
 lines were written in consequence of these discussions as a 
 souvenir for the philosopher. When this poem was published 
 by Goethe's publisher, Cotta, in 1815, Schopenhauer wrote on 
 the margin of his copy "Mihi A. S.," which means, "This verse 
 was written especially for me." 
 
 No better answer could have been given to pessimism, no. 
 better criticism and no better comment could have been made 
 upon it than is contained in this verse. We can very well 
 imagine that Goethe was deeply impressed with the truth of 
 Schopenhauer's views. There can be no question that the world 
 is full of misery, and that at best "its strength is labor and sor- 
 row." But after all, the world as it is is the fact which' we have 
 to face, and it is our business to make the best of it. The world 
 to us is how we mold circumstances and what part we play in 
 it, and thus the poet says : 
 
 Thy worth, wouldst have it recognized? 
 Give to the world a worth that's prized. 
 
 The question is not whether the world is bad or good, but 
 whether our life is worth the living, and if it is not in our power 
 to change the constitution of the world it is our duty to acquire 
 worth ourselves. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In 1797 Karoline Jagemann, distinguished both as a singer 
 and an actress, filled an engagement at the Weimar theater. She 
 was born at Weimar on January 15, 1777, and began her career 
 on the stage at Mannheim at the age of fifteen. Four years later 
 she returned to her native city to take a leading place in both 
 opera and drama. She possessed not only remarkable beauty and 
 a queenly bearing, but was also distinguished by rare talent and 
 gained the favor of the Duke, who conferred nobility upon her 
 under the name of Frau von Heygendorf. Strange to say she 
 is the only woman of Goethe's acquaintance who was hostile 
 to him. She used her influence with the Duke to intrigue against 
 the poet and caused. him so much annoyance that he considered 
 
fm 
 
 GOETHE-. 
 
 it a, relief wKen iii 1817 he resigned his position as director of 
 the theater. ' : 
 
 . Frau von Heygendorf is of special interest to: us because 
 she is the only woman to whom the pessimist, and woman-hater 
 Schopenhauer addressed a Jove poem. That Schopenhauer was 
 riot entirely proof against feeling admiration for intellectual 
 women is evidenced by his relation to Elizabet Ney, the sculp- 
 tor, who modelled his. bust, the only one of him in existeiice. The 
 case of Frau von Heygendorf, however, is more serious, as his 
 
 CAROLINE VON HEYGENDORF, NEE JAGEMANN. 
 
 interest in her might have induced him to forget his prejudice 
 against marriage. ' Wilhelm von Gwinner publishes the facsimile 
 of Schopenhauer's poem in the third Jahrhiich der Schopenhauer- 
 Gese'llschaft, 1914, and writes as follows (as communicated by 
 Prof. Paul Deussen in the preface, page ix) : 
 
 "He (Schopenhauer) feft personally drawn to only one per- 
 son; the'acti-ess Kafolirie Jageinann. 'This woman,' he owned, 
 
 onc'e to his liibther; ' 1 would make my wife (heimfuhrek) 
 
 even if I had picked .her up breaking stones on the highway.' 
 By the" bye, she was ten years his senior. His only love poem, 
 written- in the winter of 1809, was inspired by her. She visited 
 him iii Frankforfas Frau von 'Heygendorf , on which occasion 
 
HIS RELATION .TO WOMEN. 
 
 129 
 
 ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER. 
 Bust by Elisabet Ney. 
 
130 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 he had read to her his parable of the company of porcupines just 
 written at that time (Parerga II, 396) which she had greatly- 
 enjoyed." 
 
 The poem describes a chorus of singers who went out to 
 serenade the actress on a murky day. The philosopher joins 
 them and is disappointed that she does not appear at the window. 
 
 LUDWIG JOACHIM VON ARNIM 
 Known as Achim von Arnim. 
 
 CLEMENS BRENTANO. 
 
 The versification is poor, and the sentiment expressed almost 
 trivial. The last stanza reads as follows: 
 
 The chorus goes parading; 
 Linger in vain mine eyes. 
 The sun is veiled by curtains, 
 My fate beclouded lies. 
 
 [Der Chor zieht durch die Gassen, 
 Vergebens weilt main Blick, 
 Die Sonne hiillt der Vorhang — 
 Bewolkt ist mein Geschick.] 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 131 
 
 BETTINA VON ARNIM, NEE BRENTANO. 
 Enlarged from a miniature by A. von Achira Baerwalde. 
 
132 
 
 GbETHE. 
 
 In April, 1807, Bettina Brentano (later Frau von Arnim) 
 the daughter of Maximiliana von La Roche, and a sister of the 
 poet Clemens Brentano, visited Goethe and was well received. 
 Being an exceedingly pretty girl of a romantic disposition, she 
 soon entered into a friendship with the famous poet which con- 
 
 MINNA HERZLIEB. 
 
 tinued for some time; but she caused him so much annoyance 
 through her eccentricities that Goethe was glad of an opportunity 
 to break with her. When once in 1811 she behaveid disrespect- 
 fully to his wife, Frau Geheimerath Goethe, he forbade Bettina 
 his house. 
 
HIS rela,tion::to women. 
 
 133 
 
 Goethe had corresponded with Bettina, arid some time after 
 his death she published letters that purported to be their cor- 
 respondence, under the title "Goethe's Correspondence with a 
 Child." Whatever of this book may be genuine, we know that 
 it is greatly embellished and shows Goethe in a wrong light. 
 Poems addressed to Minna Herzlieb are appropriated "by Bettina^ 
 and Goethe is made to express sentiments which cannot have been 
 in the original letters. 
 
 FRAU MARIANNE VON .WILLEMER, NEE JUNG. 
 Engraved by Doris Raab, 1814. 
 
 Minna Herzlieb (born May 22, 1789, in Ziilichau) was edu- 
 cated in the house of the publisher Frommel at Jena, where 
 Goethe made her acquaintance and entertained a fatherly friend- 
 ship for her. We may assume that he loved her, though the word 
 "love" was never spoken between them. It is believed that she 
 furnished the main features for the character of Ottilie in the 
 "Elective Affinities" which he planned at that time. She, was 
 married :in 1821 to Professor W.alch of Jena but later separated 
 
134 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 from her husband. She suffered from melancholia and died 
 July 10, 1865, in a sanitarium at Goerlitz. 
 
 At the celebration of the first anniversary of the battle of 
 Leipsic in 1814, Goethe visited his native city, where he met a 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 135 
 
 rich banker, the privy councilor Johann Jacob von Willemer. 
 On the Willemer estate in the vicinity of tlie Gerbermiihle near 
 Offenbach, the poet made the acquaintance of Marianne Jung, 
 later Frau von Willemer, a most attractive and highly intellectual 
 lady. She was born November, 1784, as tlie daughter of Mat- 
 thias Jung, a manufacturer of musical instruments at Linz on the 
 
 MARIANNE VON WILLEMER. 
 
 Danube, but since her father died during her childhood the 
 young girl was compelled to make her own living, and she jomed 
 the Th'aub ballet at Frankfort on the Main in 1799. She ap- 
 peared on the stage, but the privy councilor who was m charge 
 of the business management of the theater soon rescued the 
 charming maiden from the dangers of a theatrical career. He 
 
1 36 GOETHE. 
 
 took her into his home and had her educated as if she were his 
 own daughter. Very soon after their acquaintance with Goethe 
 in August, 1814, Marianne became the wife of her then widowed 
 benefactor,- September 27 of the same year. 
 
 Goethe enjoyed the company of the Willemer family so much 
 that he visited them at Frankfort again for a few days in 1815. 
 He never saw them afterwards but remained in correspondence 
 with Frau von Willemer to the end of his life. With all her warm 
 friendship for Goethe, Marianne never ceased to be a dutiful 
 wife. Her husband knew of her letters to the poet and found 
 no fault with her. This correspondence was published in 1877 
 and contains also a letter of Eckermann with an account of 
 Goethe's last moments. She influenced Goethe while he wrote 
 the "West-Eastern Divan," many verses of which (especially the 
 Suleika stanzas) literally express her own sentiments. 
 
 Goethe's wife died June 6, 1816, and he felt the loss more 
 keenly than might have been expected. JHe felt lonely in his 
 home until, after the marriage of his only son August with Ottilie 
 von Pogwisch, he saw his grandchildren grow up around him. 
 Ottilie, born October 31, 1796, in Danzig, was the daughter of 
 Baron Pogwisch and his wife, nee countess Henckel von Don- 
 nersmarck. She was educated at Weimar where her mother was 
 mistress of ceremonies at the ducal court. She was married to 
 August von Goethe in 1817 and bore him three children,''' Walther 
 Wolfgang, born April 9, 1818, Wolfgang Maximilian, borji Sep- 
 tember 18, 1820, and Alma, born October 29, 1827. 
 
 In the year- 1823 Goethe became deeply interested in Ulrike 
 von Levetzow, whose mother he had formerly met in Carlsbad 
 in company with her parents, Herr and Frau Brosigke. Amalia 
 Brosigke had first been married to a Herr von Levetzow, who 
 was court marshal of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, and by this mar- 
 riage she had two daughters, Ulrike and Amalia. After a divorce 
 she married her husband's cousin Friedrich von Levetzow, an 
 officer who met his death in the battle of Waterloo. By this 
 second marriage Amalia von Levetzow had another daughter 
 named Bertha, and Goethe met the interesting widow and her 
 
 ' See above, pages 63-65. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 137 
 
 three datighters in Marienbad in 1821 and 1822. He felt a deep 
 attachment for the eldest daughter Ulrike, and to characterize 
 their relation we quote one of his letters to her, dated January 9, 
 1823, in which he speaks of himself as "her loving papa" and 
 
 OTTILIE VON GOETHE, NEE VON POGWISCH. 
 After a crayon drawing by Heinrich Muller about 1820, 
 
 also mentions her daughterly affection. The letter in answer 
 to one of hers reads thus : 
 
 "Your sweet letter, my dear, has given me the greatest pleas- 
 ure, and indeed doubly so on account of one particular circum- 
 stance. For though your loving papa always remembers his 
 faithful and lovely daughter, yet for some time her welcome 
 
138 GOETHE. 
 
 figure has been more clearly and vividly before my inner vision 
 than ever. But now the matter is explained. It was just those 
 days and hours when you too were thinking of me to a greater 
 degree than usual and felt the inclination to give expression to 
 your thoughts from afar. ' 
 
 "Therefore many thanks, my, love ; and at the same time my 
 best wishes and greetings to your kind mother of whom I like to 
 think as a shining star on my former horizon. The excellent 
 physician who has so entirely restored her heahh shall also be 
 an honored ^sculapius to me. 
 
 "So be assured that my dearest hope for the whole year would 
 
 ULRIKE VON LEVETZOW. 
 After a pastel miniature. 
 
 be again to enter your cheerful family circle and to find all its 
 members as kindly disposed as when I said farewell....;, 
 
 "So, my dariing, I bespeak your daughterly consideration, for 
 the future. May I find in -your company as much health in that 
 valley among the mountains (Marienbad) and in its springs as I 
 hope again to see you joyous and happy." 
 
 When Goethe met the- I^evetzow family late in the following 
 summer his attachment for Ulrike became so strong that though 
 he was then 74 years old he seriously thought of marrying this 
 charming j'oung girl of nineteen. But the difference in their 
 / ages seemed too great an obstacle. He resigned himself and in the 
 same year wrote the "Trilogy of Passion" which was dedicated. 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 139 
 
 to Ulrike. This summer in Marienbad was the last occasion 
 on which they met. Ulrike never married and died at an ad- 
 vanced age in 1899. 
 
 KOLBE'S GOETHE PORTRAIT. 
 
 Goethe Hved in a house of glass in the sense that all he ever 
 did or that ever happened to him lies before us like an open book. 
 During his lifetime he was watched by many curious people, by 
 
140 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 both friends and enemies, and the gossips of Weimar noted whom 
 he visited or on whom he called. Even to-day we can almost 
 study his life day by day, and know whom he ever met or how 
 he busied himself. Every letter of his that is still extant has 
 been published, and we have an insight into every one of his 
 friendships, yet nothing has ever been discovered that could be 
 
 FRAU CHARLOTTE VON STEIN, NEE SCHARDT. 
 Drawn by herself, 1790. 
 
 used to his dishonor, or would support the malicious accusations 
 of his enemies. The married women to whom Goethe was at- 
 tracted never tried to conceal their friendship with the poet, 
 nor did their husbands see any reason to enter a protest. Ap- 
 parently the good conscience which Goethe enjoyed made him 
 unconcerned about the possibility of stirring gossip; and yet he 
 
HIS RELATION TO WOMEN. 
 
 141 
 
 FRAU CHARLOTTE VON STEIN. 
 
 After a painting by H. Meyer, 1780, in the Grand-Duke's Museum 
 
 at Weimar. 
 
142 GOETHE. 
 
 felt it deeply, and sometimes gave expression to his indignation, 
 as for instance in a letter to Frau von Stein, May 24, 1776. He 
 said: "Even the relation, the purest, most beautiful and truest 
 in which, except to my sister, I ever stood to a woman, is thus 
 disturbed .... The world which can be nothing to me, does not 
 want that you should be something to me." 
 
 While at different times Goethe cherished several friendships 
 with different women, and while his poetic nature seemed to need 
 a stimulation in different Ways and by different characters, he 
 longed for an ideal monogamy in which all his friendship and 
 love would be concentrated on one woman, but fate did not grant 
 him this boon. He expresses his wish in a letter to Frau von 
 Stein, dated March 2, 1779, as follows: "It is an unpleasant idea 
 to me that there was a time when you did not know and love me. 
 Should I come again upon earth, I will ask the gods that I may 
 love only one, and if you were not so opposed to this world, I 
 would then ask you to become this dear companion of mine." 
 
 Goethe was human, and his life, his passions, his interests 
 and his work were thoroughly human. We will not make out 
 that he was a saint, but grant that he had human failings. We 
 claim, however, that even his failings had no trace of vulgarity 
 and that his character was much purer than that of many a saint 
 whom we know not in his sins but only in his contrition and 
 repentance. Goethe did not want to be anything but human 
 and so he portrays his humanity without trying to make it appear 
 different from, what it was, and with all his shortcomings we 
 must come to the conclusion that his humanity was ennobled 
 by all the considerations demanded by reason as well as a respect 
 for the rights of others. While he did not hesitate to enjoy him- 
 self he never lost self-control nor did he ever do anything that 
 would cause remorse. 
 
GOETHE'S PERSONALITY. 
 
 GOETHE was of a fine stature and had a prepossessing 
 noble face. He had large bright eyes and generally wore a 
 serene and kindly expression. We know from many reports of 
 his contemporaries that his appearance was striking, although 
 we may fairly well take for granted that most of the portraits 
 made of Goethe are idealized. This is especially the case of 
 thcbust made by Alexander Trippel (born 1744 at Schaffhausen, 
 died September 24, 1793 at Rome). He met Goethe in Rome, 
 and the bust he made of the poet is commonly called Goethe's 
 Apollo bust, because it bears an unmistakable resemblance to the 
 Belvidere statue of the god of music and poetry. Goethe wrote 
 of this piece of art under September 14, 1787: "My bust is very 
 well executed. Everybody is satisfied with it. Certainly it is 
 wrought in a beautiful and noble style, and I have no objection 
 that posterity should think I looked like this." 
 
 As a rule Goethe enjoyed good health, but when a child he 
 not only passed through all the usual children's diseases but 
 also the dangerous black pox. In his eighteenth year at Leipsic 
 he suffered from a hemorrhage of the lungs and remained for 
 some time in a critical condition. In later years he observed the 
 rules of hygienic living and only once afterwards suffered any 
 dangerous disease. Slight disturbances of his health he would 
 not allow to interfere with his work, for he exercised his will 
 power and was firmly convinced that a man could overcome the 
 danger of infection by courage, while fear of a disease rendered 
 
144 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 ■\'e:'L,j.,Ly-.Ari.-Aalt 
 
 DJtAlb.rliC 
 
 THE APOLLO BUST OF GOETHE. 
 By A. Trippel. 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 145 
 
 the system liable to succumb to it. He said to Eckermann (April 
 7, 1829) : 
 
 "It is remarkable what the moral will can accomplish It 
 pervades the body, so to speak, and puts it in an active condition 
 
 GOETHE IN HIS EIGHTY-THIRD YEAR. 
 After an engraving by Schwerdgeburth. 
 
 that throws off all injurious influences. Fear, on the other hand, 
 is a condition of cowardly weakness and susceptibility which 
 makes it easy for every foe to gain possession of us." 
 
146 GOETHE. 
 
 He repeated this opinion in the last year of his life (March 
 21, 1831): 
 
 "I often suffer from abdominal trouble, but a determined 
 
 will and the powers of my superior parts keep me going. The 
 
 spirit must not yield to the body. I work more easily when the 
 
 barometer is high than when it is low. Since I have discovered 
 
 this I try by greater exeilion to overcome the evil effects of the 
 
 low barometer, and I succeed very well." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Goethe's genius consisted mainly in what may be called "ob- 
 jectivity." It was a significant trait of his character that he 
 was able to view the world and the persons with whom he came 
 in contact with a minimum degree of personal equation. His 
 soul was like a perfect mirror which reproduced his surroundings 
 with great correctness and impartiality. He was conscious of 
 this himself. Whenever his genius was praised in his presence 
 he used to explain it in some such words as these, recorded to 
 have been spoken to Chancellor von Miiller: "I permit objects 
 to make their impression upon me quietly. I observe the effect 
 and endeavor to reproduce it faithfully and without vitiation. 
 That is the whole secret of what men are pleased to call genius." 
 
 In the same way he spoke to M. Soret, the tutor of the 
 young princes : "By no means do I owe my works to my own 
 wisdom, but to thousands of people and things around me that 
 have furnished the material. There came to me fools and sages, 
 bright minds and narrow, childhood and youth as well as mature 
 age.' All told me their opinions, how they lived and worked and 
 what experiences they had gathered, and I had nothing else to do 
 but go to work and reap what others had sown for me." 
 
 The objectivity of Goethe's character enabled him to work 
 out the dramatis personae of his dramas with great perfection. 
 It is true that the main characters always reflected one or another 
 trait of himself, and mostly in an exaggerated degree. Goethe 
 was Werther himself, and he experienced the pathological con- 
 dition so marvelously described in his book ; but Goethe possessed 
 sufficient strength to diagnose his own case and as soon as he 
 had worked it out in good literary form he had rid himself of 
 the disease. 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 147 
 
 It is for this reason that Goethe's novels are by no means 
 characteristic of his genius, and we deem it regrettable that 
 in certain ciixles they are read more than his other works. 
 Goethe has incorporated the pathology of his own development 
 in all his books, but his novels, "Werther," "Elective Affini- 
 ties," and "Wilhelm Meister," contain much that would better 
 have been relegated to oblivion. It is true that problems are 
 treated in them which will always command the interest of the 
 student of psychology, but this being the case we must remember 
 that the book should not be taken by the broad public as ideal 
 literature, but should bear a warning sub-title, such as "Studies 
 for the Pathologist." It takes a deeper knowledge of the human 
 mind to appreciate the genius here displayed, which as in all of 
 Goethe's works reflects the objectivity of his mind. 
 
 This same objectivity in Goethe's character enabled him to 
 understand persons who were different from himself, and to be 
 just to every one. Part of his success in life is due to his mar- 
 velous faculty of treating persons in the proper way, avoiding 
 unnecessary conflicts and making friends of enemies. This is 
 illustrated in an incident which occurred to him in 1774 when 
 he was still a young man in the period of Storm and Stress. 
 
 While traveling with Lavater he sat at the dinner table at 
 Duisburg together with several guests of the hotel, one of whom 
 was Rector Hasenkampf , a pious but tactless man. While Goethe 
 and the rest were carrying on a jovial conversation, Herr Hasen- 
 kampf interrupted them by asking, "Are you Herr Goethe?" 
 Goethe nodded assent. "And did you write that notorious book, 
 'The Sorrows of Young Werther'?" "I did." "Then I feel in 
 duty bound to express my horror at that infamous book. May 
 God change your perverted heart! For woe to that man by 
 whom offense cometh." A painful silence followed, for all pres- 
 ent expected the young poet's temper to be aroused, but Goethe 
 answered calmly, "I understand that from your point of view 
 you must judge me as you do, and I respect the honesty of your 
 reproof. Remember me in your prayers." In this way Goethe 
 disarmed the pious rector and won over every heart. The con- 
 versation continued merrily, even the rector taking part in it. 
 
 Goethe could sympathize with others because he had expe- 
 
148 GOETHE. 
 
 rieiiced in his own life much of the fate common to 'all men. 
 Thus we have a letter from him to Karl Friedrich Zelter, a 
 musician of Berlin with whom he carried on a long correspon- 
 
 KARL FRIEDRICH ZELTER. 
 
 dence, and to whom he looked up as his musical adviser. Zelter's 
 son had committed suicide, and Goethe wrote to him in these 
 words: "About the deed or misdeed itself, I know of nothing 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 149 
 
 to say. When the taedium vitae attacks a man it can only be 
 regretted, not censured. That the symptoms of this wonderful 
 disease, as natural as it is unnatural, once took possession of my 
 inmost being also, 'Werther' leaves no one in doubt. I know 
 right well what exertion and decisions it cost me at that time 
 to escape the waves of death, just as I have also with great 
 trouble rescued myself from many a later shipwreck, and re- 
 covered only by the utmost effort." 
 
 Goethe's father was a patron of painters, and so the love of 
 art was naturally instilled into the poet from his earliest child- 
 hood. We have many sketches by the young Goethe which be- 
 tray considerable talent,, and even though he never became a real 
 artist he did not cease to exercise his eye in seeing beauty and 
 his hand in reproducing on paper the impression received. He 
 never traveled without taking paper and sketch-book with him, 
 and we have innumerable drawings from his hand which, though 
 by no means perfect, possess some interest even for great artists. 
 
 In one drawing the young poet has sketched himself, and 
 we notice his intention to display the characteristic interests of 
 his life. He himself is seated at a table writing, and on the wall 
 in the background hang his hat and coat together with his sword, 
 and probably a guitar. At the left upper corner of the window 
 is his sketch of his sister, Cornelia. Behind his chair stands an 
 easel with an unfinished landscape upon it. ( Tradition does not 
 betray the contents of the bottle on the table behind him. \ In spite 
 of some technical mistakes, the conception of the sketch is ad- 
 mirable and shows both thought and taste. How much Goethe 
 trained himself in artistic observation appears in the following 
 sentence in "Truth and Fiction" : "I saw no old castle, no old 
 building, which I did not reproduce as closely, as possible." 
 
 Goethe collected all the sketches he made in his early youth 
 in a portfolio which he called Juvenilia. The Goethe-Gesell- 
 schaft has published the most characteristic of these drawings, 
 and we here reproduce some of them. Most of them are artistic 
 in conception and drawn with a firm yet delicate hand. Take 
 for instance the watch-tower of Sachsenhausen and the church 
 
150 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 THE YOUNG POET, DRAWN BY HIMSELF. 
 From the portfolio Juvenilia. 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 151 
 
 of St. Leonhard, and consider that they were made by a boy in 
 his 15th year who had no special artistic education. 
 
 As an instance of the happy disposition of Goethe we will 
 
 ^S^^' 
 ^y:.:'. 
 
 ■*j -' 
 
 THE WATCH TOWER OF SACHSENHAUSEN ON THE MAIN, 
 
 OPPOSITE FRANKFORT.. 
 
 Drawing by Goethe contained in the portfolio Juvenilia. 
 
 here recapitulate an anecdote of his younger years as told by 
 Johann Daniel Falk.^ It dates from June, 1777, when he had 
 just settled in Weimar. 
 
 ^ Goethe aus ndherem personlichem Umgang dargestellt. Leipsic, 1832, 
 p. 139. 
 
152 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The narrative rests on the authority of Johann Ludwig Gleim, 
 one of the most popular poets of Germany before Goethe. Gleim 
 
 was born April 2, 1719, and died at Halberstadt, February 18, 
 1803. He is best known for his "Prussian War Songs of a 
 
Goethe's personality. 
 
 153 
 
 Grenadier," and his are the thrilling dithyrambs in honor of 
 Prussia's great king, beginning "Fredericus Rex, unser Konig 
 iind Herr," which have been set so grandly to music. He was a 
 
 (Vedij2. a 
 
 ConfciLl&'L CIc'IlozL 
 
 
 rcJiaS'S 
 
 jfetLT-Jflfii 
 
 IlLs 
 
 tres 0\ 
 
 AN ETCHING BY GOETHE. 
 
 From the portfolio Juvenilia. 
 
 patron of the whole generation of younger poets ; he cheered 
 
 them up and encouraged them even with pecuniary assistance 
 
 when required, and often he helped those who were unworthy of 
 
154 GOETHE. 
 
 his generosity. But this was Gleim's nature, and so he deserved 
 the title "Father Gleim" which literary Germany accorded him. 
 Naturally he was anxious to meet the young Goethe, the new 
 star that had so suddenly risen on the horizon of German litera- 
 ture and was strong enough not to stand in need of Father 
 Gleim's patronage. Falk tells the story thus : 
 
 "Shortly after Goethe had written his 'Werther' — the vener- 
 able old Gleim once related to me [Falk] — I came to Weimar 
 and desired to make his acquaintance. One evening I was in- 
 vited wi^ some others to the Duchess Amalia's where it was 
 said that Goethe too would come later in the evening. By way of 
 a literary novelty I had brought with we the latest Gottinger 
 Musenalmanach from which I read aloud one thing and another 
 to the company. While I was reading, a young man, whom I 
 had hardly noticed, with boots and spurs and a short green 
 hunting coat, had mingled with the otiier auditors. He sat op- 
 posite me and listened very attentively. With the exception of 
 a pair of wonderfully sparkling black Italian eyes there was 
 nothing about him which particularly attracted my attention. 
 Nevertheless I was destined to know him much more intimately. 
 During a brief pause in which some gentlemen and ladies were 
 giving their judgment about this or that piece, praising one and 
 criticizing another, our elegant hunter — for sucTa I had taken 
 him to be at the start — rose from his chair, joined in the con- 
 versation and, bowing to me courteously, offered to take turns 
 with me in reading aloud from time to time, if I would be pleased 
 to do so, that I might not tire myself too greatly. I could not 
 avoid accepting this polite proposal and at once handed him the 
 book. But by Apollo and the Nine Muses, not to forget the 
 Three Graces, to what was I at last compelled to listen! In the 
 beginning to be sure it went quite passably : 
 
 'Zephyrs listened, 
 Brooks murmured and glistened. 
 The sun 
 Spread light for sheer fun, etc' 
 
 "Even the somewhat heavier fare of Voss, Leopold Stolberg 
 and Burger was delivered so well that no one could find fault. 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 155 
 
 But all at once it was as if the devil of impertinence had seized 
 the reader, and I thought that I beheld the wild huntsman in- 
 carnate before me. He read poems which were never in the 
 Almanack, and he took turns with every conceivable key and 
 style — hexameter, iambic, and doggerel just as it happened, 
 everything mixed up and thrown together as if he just poured 
 it out that way. 
 
 "What did he not improvise in his gay mood that evening! 
 Sometimes there were such splendid thoughts — even though as 
 carelessly thrown off as roughly sketched — that the authors to 
 whom he ascribed them might well thank God upon their knees 
 if such thoughts had occurred to them at their desks. As soon 
 as every one shared the joke general merriment spread through 
 the room. The mysterious reader worked in something about all 
 who were present. Even the patronage which I had always con- 
 sidered my duty towards young scholars, poets and artists, al- 
 though he praised it on the one hand, yet he did not forget on the 
 other hand to give me a little stab for making mistakes sometimes 
 in the individuals to whom I accorded my support. Therefore 
 in a little fable composed e.v tempore in doggerel verses he com- 
 pared me, wittily enough, with a pious, and at the same time ex- 
 ceedingly long-suffering, turkey cock who sat very patiently 
 upon large numbers of eggs of his own and other kinds, but to 
 whom it once happened (and he did not take it ill) that a chalk 
 Qgg was put under him in place of a real one. 
 
 " 'That is either Goethe or the devil !' I exclaimed to Wieland 
 who sat across the table from me. 'Both,' Wieland replied. 'He 
 is possessed by the devil again to-day. Then he is like a spirited y^ 
 bronco that strikes out in all directions so that one would do 
 well not to come too near him.' " 
 
 Goethe's own home at Weimar was comfortable and testified 
 to his love of art, but there was no show of luxury, and his study 
 presented the appearance of Spartan simplicity. In his "Con- 
 versations with Eckermann" (March 23, 1829) he said: 
 
 "Magnificent buildings and rooms are for princes and kings. 
 He who lives in them feels at ease ; he is contented and wishes for 
 
156 
 
 GOKTHE. 
 
 nothing else. It is quite contrary to my nature. In a splendid 
 dwelling such as I had at Karlsbad I am lazy and indolent. Nar- 
 row quarters, on the other hand, like this poor room where we 
 now are, in somewhat disorderly order, a little Bohemian, are 
 the right things for me. They permit my nature entire freedom 
 to be active and to make something of myself." 
 Two days later he touched on the same subject: 
 "You see no sofa in my room ; I always sit in my old wooden 
 chair and only in the last few months I have arranged a sort of 
 
 GOETHE'S STUDY. 
 Drawn by O. Schultz after a photograph by L. Held. 
 
 rest for my head. Surroundings of comfortable, tasteful furni- 
 ture dull my thought and reduce me to a passive condition." 
 
 While Goethe's study was simple and serviceable his home 
 was large and comfortable and did not lack a display of art. 
 One of his friends, the naturalist-philosopher Karl Gustav Carus 
 of Dresden, describes Goethe's house at Weimar thus : 
 
 "Immediately upon entrance into the modestly large house, 
 built in a simple antique style, the inclinations of the owner were 
 
Goethe's personality. I57 
 
 clearly indicated by the broad easy stairway as well as the decora- 
 tion of the banisters with the hound of Diana and the young 
 fawn of Belvidere. Farther up a group of Castor and Pollux 
 agreeably surprised the eye, and on the main floor the guest was 
 
 greeted by a hospitable Salve in the hall. This room itself was 
 richly decorated with busts and engravings, and towards the 
 back of the house opened through another hall of statuary upon 
 the gaily entwined balcony and a stairway leading into the gar- 
 
158 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 den. Conducted into another room the guest found himself 
 surrounded anew with works of art and antiquities. Beautifully 
 burnished vessels of chalcedony stood around on marble tables; 
 above the sofa green hangings half concealed a large copy of 
 the old mural painting known by the name of 'the Aldobrand 
 Wedding' ;^ while the selection of pieces of art kept under glass 
 and in frames, and mostly representing objects of ancient his- 
 tory, deserved the closest attention." 
 
 This house was a gift from Duke Karl August in 1792. 
 Walther von Goethe, the poet's grandson and the last of the 
 family, bequeathed it to the state of Saxe- Weimar at his death, 
 
 r.--i,*u.Yfi'r'^' \ 
 
 April IS, 1885, and it is now the seat of the Goethe National 
 
 Museum. In 1827 Otto Wagner made a drawing of it under 
 
 which Goethe wrote two couplets which may be translated freely 
 
 thus: 
 
 Why stand they there outside? 
 The doors are open wide. 
 
 If they'll come in and see 
 Right welcome they will be. 
 
 Goethe loved traveling. He journeyed along the Rhine, 
 through Switzerland and Italy, and frequently visited Karlsbad 
 
 ^ The Aldobrand Wedding is a picture dating presumably "from the age; 
 of Augustus, which has been discovered (1606) near the Church of St. Maria 
 Maggiore at Rome, on the grounds which formerly belonged to Maecenas. It^ 
 represents the preparation for a wedding, consisting of three groups." It was" 
 named after Cardinal Aldobrandini, its first owner, and is now kept in the 
 Vatican library. ; 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 159 
 
 and Teplitz; but he was always glad to return to his home in 
 Weimar, and in one of his letters to Christiana Vulpius, his faith- 
 ful consort, he wrote : 
 
 From east to west, 
 At home is best. 
 
 [Von Osten nach Westen — 
 Zu Hause am hasten.] 
 
 He always dressed as occasion demanded. At court or when 
 receiving guests he would appear in a somber black court dress 
 with his decoration on his breast, but he did not hesitate to be 
 seen by his intimate friends on hot days in his shirt sleeves, or 
 in his comfortable woolen gown in winter. 
 
 Goethe enjoyed gardening, and his philosophical as well as 
 scientific interest in plant life is sufficiently proved by his poem 
 on the "Metamorphosis of Plants." He stayed frequently in his 
 little garden house outside the city and loved to meet his friends 
 there. 
 
 * * * 
 
 A humorous incident is told by Goethe of Gottsched,^ who 
 was considered a kind of dictator of German literature. While 
 Goethe was a student at Leipsic Gottsched still basked in the 
 glory of his fame though he had long since passed the zenith 
 of his significance. He was a pompous man of the old style 
 belonging to the period of the full-bottomed wig, and Goethe 
 criticised him as an author with impartiality in the second book 
 of his "Truth and Fiction." When Schlosser visited Leipsic 
 Goethe called on Gottsched in company with his future brother- 
 in-law, and gives an account of this interview. We quote again 
 from Oxenford's translation of "Truth and Fiction" : 
 
 "I cannot pass over the visit we paid Gottsched, as it exem- 
 plifies the character and manners of that man. He lived very 
 respectably in the first story of the Golden Bear, where the elder 
 Breitkopf, on account of the great advantage which Gottsched's 
 writings, translations, and other aids had brought to the trade, 
 had promised him a lodging for life. 
 
 'Gottsched was born February 2, 1700, at Juditten in Eastern Prussia, 
 and died September 12, 1766, at Leipsic, where he had lived since 1724. In 
 1730 he became professor of poetry, and in 1734 professor of logic and meta- 
 physics. 
 
160 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 "We were announced. The servant led us into a large cham- 
 ber, saying his master would come immediately. Now, whether 
 we misunderstood a gesture he made, I cannot say ; at any rate, 
 we thought he directed us into an adjoining room. We entered, 
 to witness a singular scene ; for, on the instant, Gottsched, that 
 tall, broad, gigantic man, came in at the opposite door in a 
 morning-gown of green damask lined with red taffeta ; but his 
 monstrous head was bald and uncovered. This, however, was to 
 be immediately provided for. The servant rushed in at a side- 
 
 GOTTSCHED REBUKES HIS SERVANT. 
 
 door with a full-bottomed wig in his hand (the curls came down 
 to the elbows), and handed the head-ornament to his master 
 with gestures of terror. Gottsched, without manifesting the least 
 vexation, raised the wig from the servant's arm with his left 
 hand, and, while he very dexterously swung it up on his head, 
 gave the poor fellow such a box on the ear with his right paw, 
 that the latter went spinning out at the door, as is often seen in 
 comedies; whereupon the respectable old grandfather invited us 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 161 
 
 ', I I III l-|M| ll'ij \ ^ < • M 1IUII\ 
 
 vv^;^ 
 
 k 
 
 i^ 
 
 JOHANN CHRISTOPH GOTTSCHED. 
 
162 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 quite gravely to be seated, and kept up a pretty long discourse. 
 
 with good grace." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Gellert's lectures in Leipsic on the history of literature were 
 very attractive to Goethe, and we cannot better describe the sig- 
 nificance and character of this interesting professor than in the 
 poet's own words : 
 
 "The reverence and love with which Gellert was regarded 
 by all young people was extraordinary. I called on him and was 
 kindly received. Not tall of stature, delicate without being lank, 
 
 C. F. GELLERT. 
 
 J. C. GOTTSCHED. 
 
 —with gentle and rather pensive eyes, a very fine forehead, a 
 nose aquiline but not too much so, an aristocratic mouth, a face 
 of an agreeable oval — all made his presence pleasing and de- 
 sirable. It cost some trouble to reach him. His two famuli ap- 
 peared like priests who guard a sanctuary to which access is not 
 permitted to everybody nor at every time. Such a precaution was 
 very necessary, for he would have sacrificed his whole time had 
 he been willing to receive and satisfy all those who wished to 
 become intimate with him. 
 
 "Gellert, in accordance with his pious feelings, had com- 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 163 
 
 From Haid's mezzotint after the .painting by Anton Graff. 
 
164 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 posed a system of ethics, which from time to time he publicly 
 read, thus acquitting himself in an honorable manner of his 
 duty to mankind. Gellert's writings had for a long time been 
 the foundation of German moral culture, and every one anxiously 
 wished to see that work printed ; but as this was not to be done 
 till after the- good man's death, people thought themselves very 
 fortunate to hear him deliver it himself in his lifetime. At such 
 times the philosophical lecture .room was crowded; and the 
 beautiful soul, the pure will, and the interest of the noble man 
 
 GELLERT'S LECTURE ROOM. 
 
 in our welfare, his exhortations, warnings and entreaties, uttered 
 in a somewhat hollow and mournful tone, made indeed an im- 
 pression for the moment. But this did not last long, the less so 
 as there were many scoffers who contrived to make us suspicious 
 of this tender, and, as they thought, enei'vating, manner. I re- 
 member a Frenchman traveling through the town who asked 
 what were the maxims and opinions of the man who attracted 
 such an immense concourse. When we had given him the neces- 
 sary information, he shook his head and said smiling, 'Laissez le 
 faire, il nous forme des dupes.' 
 
Goethe's personality. 165 
 
 "And in the same way good society which does not easily 
 brook anything worthy, knew how to find occasion to spoil the 
 moral influence which Gellert might have upon us r . . . and so 
 pulled about the good reputation of the excellent Gellert that, in 
 order not to be mistaken about him, we became indifferent 
 towards him and visited him no more; yet we always saluted 
 him in our best manner when he came riding along on his gentle 
 white horse. This horse the Elector of Saxony had sent him, 
 to oblige him to take the exercise so necessary for his health, — 
 a distinction for which he was not easily to be forgiven." 
 
 There are six religious songs of Gellert's for which Beethoven 
 has composed the music. In the translation of H. Stevens they 
 read as follows : 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 O Lord, thy goodness reaches far, 
 
 As far the clouds are guided; 
 
 By mercy crowned, thy creatures are 
 
 With needful help provided. 
 
 Lord ! my defense, my tower and shield, 
 
 To me a gracious audience yield, 
 
 Approve my supplication. 
 
 LOVE THY NEIGHBOR. 
 
 If one shall -say; 'I love the Lord,' 
 While yet his brother hating, 
 With mockers he shall reap reward 
 God's truth abominating; 
 For God is, love, and wishes me 
 With all on loving terms to be. 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 Life is ebbing fast away, 
 Hourly towards the grave I hasten; 
 Death may come without delay. 
 Let this thought my spirit chasten. 
 Man bethink thee Death is rife. 
 One thing needful is in life. 
 
 NATURE PRAISES GOD. 
 The Heavens declare the Lord's infinite glory. 
 The sea and earth sound forth his name, 
 And tell their origin's wonderful story, 
 Mark well, O man, what they proclaim. 
 
166 GOETHE. 
 
 Who gave the numberless stars their existence, 
 Who calls the Sun from his abode, 
 He comes in brightness and smiles from the distance, 
 And like a hero keeps his road. 
 
 POWER OF GOD. 
 
 God is my song ! 
 
 In strength he reigns victorious, 
 
 High is his name, 
 
 And all his works are glorious; 
 
 Earth, Sea and Heaven to him belong. 
 
 PENITENTIAL HYMN. 
 I. 
 'Gainst thee alone, God, have I sin committed, 
 And evil done in thy dread sight; 
 Thou seest my guilt for which thy wrath is fitted. 
 See, Lord, my woe and sore affright. 
 
 My piteous wail, my sighs are all before thee. 
 My tears of deep and bitter grief, 
 
 God, my God, shall I in vain implore Thee? 
 How long wilt thou deny relief? 
 
 Lord, do not after my deSerts reward me. 
 Chastise me not ! Show me thy face ; 
 
 1 crave for thee ! thy pardon. Lord, accord me. 
 Thou God of patience and of grace. 
 
 II. 
 
 grant me early, God, thy consolation. 
 Oh Father of mercy, God of love. 
 
 For thine own name's sake grant my supplication, 
 Thou lov'st to bless from Heav'n above. 
 
 Let on thy path me walk ; let me be steady 
 
 In my obedience to thy word. 
 
 To do thy will I shall be always ready, 
 
 1 am thy servant, thou my Lord. 
 
 Lord, hasten thou to shelter and defend me; 
 Show me thy path, point out the goal. 
 Thy helping hand, O Lord, thy helping hand extend me 
 And with thy comfort fill my soul. 
 * * * 
 
 Goethe was a man of the world. It is true that in his youth 
 he passed through a period of fermentation in which, Titan-Hke, 
 he could rebel against authority in any form, but when he saw 
 more of the world he followed the behests of common sense and 
 respected rank and power even when due merely to heredity. He 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 167 
 
 was a poet by nature, but in Weimar he had become a man of 
 afifairs and a courtier. In this respect he was different from 
 Beethoven who remained an outspoken democrat all his life, at 
 least a non-respector of rank, preserving this tendency even in 
 the presence of his imperial friend, the liberal-minded Emperor 
 Joseph, who not only distinguished him frequently with marks 
 of personal friendship, but also humored his often rude inde- 
 
 CARICATURE OF GOETHE. BEETHOVEN IN THE STREETS 
 By Daniel Maclise after a similar cari- OF VIENNA. 
 
 cature by Thackeray. Sketch by J. P. Lyser. 
 
 pendence. Bettina von Arnim tells a story which illustrates this 
 cohtrast between Goethe and Beethoven. 
 
 One day Beethoven and Goethe were walking together, dur- 
 ing their stay at Teplitz, when they met the whole coterie of royal 
 personages. Beethoven went so far as to show a certam dis- 
 respect by passing through their midst regardless of their rank, 
 while Goethe modestly doffed his hat and made room for them 
 
168 GOETHE. 
 
 to pass. Bettina tells us that Goethe was somewhat perplexed 
 by the "quite untamed" personality of the great composer, while 
 Beethoven blamed Goethe for his courtier-like behavior and on 
 the following day vented his indignation in these words : "Kings 
 and princes can indeed bestow titles and orders, but they can 
 not make great men, who therefore must be held in respect. 
 When two come together such as Goethe and I, then these great 
 gentlemen must observe what it is that counts for great with 
 such as we. Yesterday we met the whole imperial family [of 
 Austria], and Goethe disengaged himself from my ai;m in order 
 to stand aside. I pressed my hat down on my head and went 
 through the thickest of the crowd with my arms hanging at my 
 sides. Princes and courtiers drew up in a double line, the Duke\ 
 of Weimar took off his hat to me and the Empress greeted me 
 first. Much to my amusement I saW the procession file by Goethe, 
 who stood at one side bowing with his hat in his hand. I took 
 him roundly to task for it afterwards." 
 
 This makes Goethe appear in a rather unfavorable light, but 
 we must consider that Beethoven also went too far in his brusque 
 manner, and he might perhaps on second thought have granted 
 that even royolty ought to be treated with gentlemanly behavior. 
 
 To complement this trait of Goethe's .character we ought to 
 say that while he admired his own sovereign, Karl August, and 
 while he respected his rights even in punctilious formalities, -he 
 was by no means a pliable courtier, but in his official duties when- 
 ever he thought that his own judgment was better than his sov- 
 ereign's, he insisted on his point with great tenacity so that the 
 Duke is reported to have complained sometimes of his obstinacy. 
 Once while disagreeing about filling a chair at the university 
 of Jena, the Duke "finally broke off the conversation by saying 
 in a tone of comradeship, "Thou art an odd fellow and canst not 
 stand contradiction." 
 
 * sfi ^ 
 
 Though Goethe was upon the whole very simple in his habits 
 of life and in a way frugal, he spent much money, partly for his 
 travels, partly for books and art treasures, and also for his 
 wines. Further we have good reason to know that neither his 
 wife Christiana nor his daughter-in-law Ottilie were good house- 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 
 
 169 
 
 DUKE KARL AUGUST AND GOETHE. 
 After an engraving by Schwerdgeburth. 
 
170 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 keepers. He di'ew a very good income from his books and re- 
 ceived many gifts from home. When his mother died he in- 
 herited the fortune of his parents which was not inconsiderable. 
 Payments made to him between 1795 and 1832 by Cotta alone, 
 his main publisher, amounted to 401,090 thalers; and between 
 the years 1832 and 1865, until the expiration of the copyright, 
 his heirs drew the additional amount of 154,824 thalers. He 
 
 JOHANN FRIEDRICH COTTA, BARON COTTENDORF. 
 Goethe's publisher and founder of Die Horen. 
 
 kept a faithful account of his expenses, and yet his pecuniary 
 affairs were never prosperous, and he frequently complained of 
 being short of funds. 
 
 Goethe loved jovial company and wrote several jolly drinking 
 songs. In his younger years especially he drank wine rather 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 171 
 
 freely, but when he grew older he became suspicious of all stimu- 
 lants. He drank no tea and very Httle coffee, deeming both to 
 be poisonous, and also abstained from the use of tobacco. He 
 took beer or strong liquors only as an exception, but being a 
 Rhinelander it was difficult for him to give up wine even when 
 he began to doubt its wholesomeness. Once he wrote (in 1780) : 
 "I drink ahuost no wine at all and gain daily in insight and 
 ability to lead an active life." In 1786 he wrote from Italy: "I 
 am very moderate. The red wine of this country I cannot stand, 
 and like St. Louis I drink it mixed with much water." But these 
 moods did not make him a total abstainer. He continued to 
 drink a glass of Madeira for his forenoon lunch and a bottle of 
 Wiirzburg wine for mid-day dinner, while in the evening he en- 
 joyed either a punch or a glass of champagne. It is remarkable 
 that he could stand so much, but it is noteworthy that he recom- 
 mends moderation to his son while a student at the university of 
 Heidelberg. In a fatherly letter he writes in 1808 : "We are 
 living on in the same old way, quietly and busily, especially, too, 
 as far as wine is concerned, with regard to which it pleases me 
 to learn from your letter that you beware of drinking which has 
 become so very much the fashion although it militates more than 
 one thinks against a prudent, cheerful and active life." 
 
 An anecdote from the poet's sojourn in Karlsbad is told in 
 Goethe's own words by Professor Luden of Jena as follows : 
 
 "Walking up and down as was my habit, I repeatedly came 
 across an old man of perhaps 78 or 80 years of age, who leaning 
 on his gold-headed cane passed along the same street coming and 
 going. I learned that he was a very deserving retired general 
 of a prominent old family. I noticed several times that the old 
 man looked at me sharply, even standing still and looking back 
 at me after I had passed. I paid no special attention to this at 
 the time because I had had similar experiences before. Once, 
 however, I started to take a stroll on the side path in order to 
 look at something or other more particularly. The old man 
 came up to me in a friendly manner, slightly lifted his hat, to 
 which of course I suitably responded, and addressed me in the 
 
172 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 GOETHE (BY RUMPF). 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 173 
 
 following fashion. 'Your name is Mr. Goethe, is it not ?' — Quite 
 right. — 'From Weimar?' — Right again. — 'You have written 
 books, haven't you?' — Oh yes. — 'And made verses?' — That too. 
 — 'They are said to be fine.' — Hm! — 'Have you written much?' 
 — Some might think so. — 'Is it hard to write verses ?' — So so. — 
 'It depends a good deal on one's mood I fancy? Whether a 
 person has eaten and drunk well, doesn't it?' — It amounts to 
 about that. — 'Now see ! You ought not to waste your time in 
 Weimar, but in my opinion you should come to Vienna.' — I've 
 often thought of it. — 'Now see! It's fine in Vienna, they have 
 good things to eat and drink!' — Hm! — 'And they make a lot of 
 such people who can write verses.' — Hm! — 'Yes indeed, such 
 people — if you aix a good fellow, you see, and know how to live 
 — are received in the first and finest houses.' — Hm! — 'Do come 
 and try! Let me know when you come, for I have a wide 
 acquaintance, relatives and influence. Just write: Goethe from 
 Weimar, met at Karlsbad. The last is necessaiy to remind me 
 because I have so much on my mind.' — I'll not fail to. — ^'But tell 
 me thowgh, what have you written?' — All sorts of things from 
 Adam to Napoleon, from Ararat to Blocksberg, from the cedar 
 to the bramble bush. — 'They say it is widely known.' — ^Hm! Un- 
 fortunately. — 'Too bad that I have never read anything of yours, 
 and never heard of you before! Have new revised editions of 
 your writings appeared ?' — Oh yes, probably. — 'And perhaps more 
 will appear?' — Let us hope so. — 'Well, but see! then I will not 
 buy your works. I only buy final editions. Otherwise one al- 
 ways has the annoyance of owning a poor book or else one must 
 buy the saine book a second time. Therefore in order to be 
 secure I always wait until the author is dead before I buy his 
 books! It is a principle with me, and I can not depart from this 
 principle even in your case.' — Hm!" 
 
 Another encounter of a humorous kind is reported of a cap- 
 tain of hussars, Franz von Schwanenfeld, who happened to cross 
 Goethe's path in Teplitz in 1_833. The gallant officer had reached 
 the place at the end of June and could not get a room except in 
 the basement of a garden house situated on the promenades. One 
 
174 GOETHE. 
 
 morning the light of his room was darkened by the figure of a 
 fine old gentleman who sat on the bench just outside his window 
 and drank a mug of water, which the servant brought him. This 
 was repeated so frequently that our hussar was annoyed and yet 
 he was attracted by the fine features of the stranger. He opened 
 his window and called out, "Good morning!" but received no 
 reply except a glance of rebuke. Undaunted the captain con- 
 tinued, "Are you a hypochondriac ?" No answer. The question 
 was repeated in a voice of thunder. Finally the old gentleman 
 spoke: "Strange!" said he. "Indeed it is strange," replied the 
 captain, "here you are sick and sit out in the cold fog drinking 
 your water alone in solitude and silence. I would rather drink 
 ink in company with others and would be cured the sooner. Do 
 you know, I would be disposed to come to blows with you." 
 The other's eyes opened wide in amazement, and the captain con- 
 tinued : "No danger ! I like your hero face too much !" 
 
 The stranger was pleased with the aggressive soldier who 
 clothed his offensive language so adroitly in flattery. They en- 
 tered into conversation and soon were walking together arm in 
 arm. They talked about Schiller and Goethe, about the Duke of 
 Weimar and the war, and the captain said he was very fond of 
 "Tasso" but disliked "Werther." The stranger called the hussar 
 his doctor because he had cured him of his attack of hypochon- 
 dria, and on the following day they met again, but this time the 
 patient was in company with another gentleman whom the doctor 
 took to be a forester or the tenant of some large estate, and he tried 
 to instill into both a more joyous conception of life. After a few 
 days Herr von Schwanenfeld was informed that his acquaintance 
 was Goethe, and the latter's companion whom he had addressed 
 so unceremoniously, the Duke Karl August. 
 
 A curious incident is reported by Dr. G. Parthey, of a Berlin 
 woman who may be characterized as a German Mrs. Malaprop. 
 He quotes her as giving the following account of her meeting 
 with the famous poet. 
 
 "I had made up my mind to visit the great Goethe just once, 
 and so one day when I rode through Weimar I went to his gar- 
 
GOETHE S PERSONALITY. 175 
 
 den and gave the gardener one dollar so that he would hide me 
 in an arbor and give me the wink when Goethe came along. Now 
 when he came down the path and the gardener beckoned to me, I 
 stepped out and said : 'Worshipful sir !' Then he stood still, put 
 his hands behind his back, looked at me and asked, 'Do you know 
 me?' I answered, 'Great man, who is there that does not know 
 you ?' and began to recite. 
 
 Firmly bound, the mold of clay 
 In its dungeon walls doth stand.* 
 
 At that he made a bow, turned around and went on. So I had 
 my way and had seen the great Goethe." 
 
 It was characteristic of Goethe that he was opposed to all 
 gossip, and whenever slander was reported to him he resented it 
 strongly. Once he said to Chancellor von Miiller, "Through such 
 malevolent and indiscreet inventions one makes enemies and em- 
 bitters one's own existence. I would rather hang myself than be 
 constantly negative, constantly in the opposition, constantly ready 
 to shoot at the faults and shortcomings of my fellows and neigh- 
 bors. One must be very young and frivolous to tolerate such 
 things." On another occasion he replied very sharply to a visitor 
 who related some scandal, "Keep the sweepings of your dirt at 
 home, and do not bring it into my house." 
 
 Once while passing through a park at Weimar his attention 
 was called to a couple of lovers who thought themselves unob- 
 served. They were known in Weimar, and when asked whether 
 he had seen them Goethe answered, " I did, but I don't believe 
 
 it." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Goethe was lenient in judging harmless joys and insisted 
 especially upon the protection of the liberties of the children. 
 He used to complain that the police disturbed the people in some 
 of their innocent enjoyments. Eckermann reports the following 
 remarks under the date of March 12, 1828: 
 
 "I only need look out of the window in our dear Weimar to 
 * This is the beginning of Schiller's best known poem "The Bell." 
 
176 GOETHE. 
 
 become aware of how things are with us. When recently the 
 snow lay on the ground and my neighbor's children wished to 
 try their little sleds in the street, a police officer was immediately 
 on the spot, and I saw' the poor little things run away as fast 
 as they could. Now when spring sunshine entices them out of 
 the houses and they want to play some little game with their 
 companions in front of their doors, I see that they are always 
 uneasy as if they were not sure and as if they feared the arrival 
 of some police tyrant. No boy can crack a whip or sing or call 
 out but the police is on hand at once to forbid him. In our town 
 everything tends toward making young people tame before their 
 time and drive out of them all naturalness, all originality, and 
 wildness, so that in the end there is nothing left but the Phil- 
 istine." 
 
 When the ancient custom of burning up old brooms on St. 
 John's day was prohibited by a regulation of the Weimar police, 
 Goethe wrote down the following lines to be circulated as a 
 propaganda against this interference with boyish merry-making: 
 
 St. John's day fires be not forbid, 
 
 Nor hindered harmless joys; 
 For of old brooms we must be rid, 
 
 And boys will still be boys. 
 
 [Johannisfeuer sei unverwehrt, 
 
 Die Freiide nie verloren ! 
 Besen werden immer stumpf gekehrt, 
 Und Jungens immer geboren.] 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 GOETHE'S faith in God received a severe shock while he 
 was a small child from the news of the earthquake at Lis- 
 bon. From his religious instruction the boy had learned to look 
 upon God as all-good, all-wise and all-powerful, and such a 
 dreadful accident seemed to be incompatible with his conception 
 of deity. In his autobiography the poet describes his own state 
 of mind as follows : 
 
 "An extraordinary event deeply disturbed the boy's peace of 
 mind for the first time. On the 1st of November, 1755, the earth- 
 quake at Lisbon took place, and spread a prodigious alarm over 
 the world, long accustomed to peace and quiet. A great and 
 magnificent capital which was at the same time a trading and 
 mercantile city, was smitten without warning by a terrible calam- 
 ity. The earth trembled and tottered; the sea foamed; ships 
 dashed against one another; houses fell down, and churches and 
 towers on top of them ; the royal palace was partly swallowed by 
 the waters ; the bursting land seemed to vomit flames ; everywhere 
 among the ruins were seen smoke and fire. Sixty thousand per- 
 sons, a moment before in ease and comfort, perished together; 
 and he was most fortunate who was no longer capable of a 
 thought or feeling about the disaster. The flames raged on ; and 
 with them raged a troop of desperadoes, before concealed, or set 
 at large by the event. The wretched survivors were exposed to 
 pillage, massacre and every outrage ; and thus on all sides nature 
 asserted her boundless caprice. 
 
 "Intimations of this event had spread over wide regions more 
 quickly than the authentic reports ; slight shocks had been felt in 
 
178 GOETHE. 
 
 many places; in many springs, particularly those of a mineral 
 nature, an unusual receding of the waters had been remarked; 
 and such phenomena added to the effect of the accounts them- 
 selves, which were rapidly circulated, at first in general terms, 
 but finally with dreadful definiteness. Hereupon the religiously 
 inclined were not wanting in reflections, neither were the philo- 
 sophical in grounds for consolation, nor the clergy in warnings. 
 So complicated an event arrested the attention of the world for 
 a long time ; and, as additional and more detailed accounts of the 
 extensive effects of this explosion came from every quarter, those 
 who had already been aroused by the misfortunes of strangers 
 now began to be more and more anxious for themselves and their 
 friends. Perhaps the demon of horror had never so speedily and 
 powerfully diffused his terrors over the earth. 
 
 "The boy, who was compelled to endure frequent repetitions 
 of the whole story, was not a little staggered. God, the Creator 
 and Preserver of heaven and earth, whom the explanation of the 
 first article of the creed declared so wise and benignant, in aban- 
 doning both the just and the unjust to the same destruction, had 
 not manifested himself by any means in a fatherly character. 
 In vain the young mind strove to resist these impressions. This 
 was the more impossible since the wise and scripture-learned 
 could not themselves agree as to the light in which such a phe- 
 nomenon should be regarded. 
 
 "The next summer gave a closer opportunity of knowing di- 
 rectly that angry God of whom the Old Testament records so 
 much. A sudden hail-storm, accompanied by thunder and light- 
 ning, violently broke the new panes at the back of our house 
 which looked toward the west, damaged the new furniture, de- 
 stroyed some treasured books and other valuable things, and was 
 the more terrible to the children, as the whole Household, quite 
 beside themselves, dragged us little folks with them into a dark 
 passage, where, on their knees, with frightful groans and cries, 
 they thought to conciliate the wrathful deity. Meanwhile, my 
 father, who was the only one self-possessed, forced open and 
 unhinged the window-frames, by which we saved much glass, 
 but made a broader inlet for the rain which followed the hail ; so 
 that after we were finally quieted we found ourselves completely 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 179 
 
 surrounded by floods and streams of water, in the halls and on 
 the stairs." 
 
 The poetic inclination of Goethe appeared also in his re- 
 ligious yearnings, and it is interesting to see how even as a boy 
 he presents an exact parallel to the religion of ancient Per- 
 sia where God was worshiped under the symbol of light, and 
 the sun was greeted as the visible representative of deity in the 
 world. We let Goethe show the condition of his mind in his 
 own words : 
 
 "It may be taken for granted that among our other lessons 
 we children had a continued and progressive instruction in re- 
 ligion. But the ecclesiastical Protestantism imparted to us was, 
 properly speaking, nothing but a kind of dry morality. Ingenious 
 exposition was not thought of, and the doctrine appealed neither 
 to the understanding nor to the heart. For that reason there were 
 various secessions from the Established Church. Separatists, 
 Pietists, Moravians (Hcrrnhuter), the Quiet-in-the-Land, and 
 others differently named and characterized, sprang up, all of 
 whom were animated by the same purpose of approaching the 
 deity, especially through Christ, more closely than seemed to 
 them possible under the forms of the established religion. 
 
 "The boy heard these opinions and sentiments constantly 
 spoken of, for the clergy as well as the laity divided themselves 
 into pro and con. Those who dissented more or less widely 
 formed the minority ; but their modes of thinking proved enticing 
 on account of their originality, heartiness, perseverance, and in- 
 dependence. All sorts of stories were told of their virtues and 
 of the way in which these were manifested. The reply of a pious 
 tinker was circulated, who when one of his craft attempted to 
 shame him by asking, 'Who then is your confessor?' answered 
 with great cheerfulness and confidence in the goodness of his 
 cause, T have a very famous one,— none less than the confessor 
 of King David.' 
 
 "Things of this sort naturally made an impression on the 
 boy, and led him into similar states of mind. In fact, he came 
 to the conclusion that he might approach directly the great God 
 
180 GOETHE. 
 
 of nature, the Creator and Preserver of heaven and earth, whose 
 earher manifestations of wrath had long been forgotten in the 
 beauty of the world and the manifold blessings in which we par- 
 ticipate while upon it. The way he took to accomplish this was 
 very curious. 
 
 "The boy had chiefly kept to the first article of belief. The 
 God who stands in immediate connection with' nature, and owns 
 and loves it as his work, seemed to him the proper God who 
 might be brought into closer relationship with man as with 
 everything else, and who would take care of him, as of the mo- 
 tion of the stars, the days and the seasons, and animals and plants. 
 There were texts of the Gospels which explicitly stated this. The 
 boy would ascribe no form to this Being: he thei-efore sought 
 him in his works, and would fain build him an altar in the good 
 Old Testament fashion. Natural productions were set out to 
 represent the world, and over these a flame was to burn, signi- 
 fying the aspirations of man's heart towards his Maker. He 
 brought the best ores and other specimens out of his natural 
 history collection which had been increased as chance directed. 
 But the next difficulty was how to arrange and build them up. 
 His father possessed a beautiful red-lacquered music-stand, or- 
 namented with gilt flowers, in the form of a four-sided pyramid, 
 with different elevations, which had been found convenient for 
 quartets but lately -was not much in use. The boy took possession 
 of this, and set up his natural specimens one above the other in 
 steps ; so that it all looked quite pretty and at the same time suffi- 
 ciently significant. 
 
 "His first worship- of God was to be celebrated at early 
 sunrise, but the young priest had not yet settled on how to pro- 
 duce a flame which should at the same time emit an agreeable 
 odor. At last it occurred to him to combine the two, as he pos- 
 sessed a few fumigating pastils, which diffused a pleasant frag- 
 rance with a glimmer, if not with a flame. Nay, this soft burn- 
 ing and exhalation seemed a better representation of what passes 
 in the heart, than an open flame. The sun had risen long before, 
 but the neighboring houses concealed the east. At last it appeared 
 above the roofs. The boy at once took up a burning-glass and 
 applied it to the pastils, which stood on the supimit in a fine 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 181 
 
 porcelain saucer. Everything succeeded as desired, and the ser- 
 vice of devotion was complete. The altar remained as a peculiar 
 ornament of the room which had been assigned him in the new 
 house. Every one regarded it only as a well-arranged collec- 
 
 H aUNTHER.w. 
 
 THE YOUTHFUL PRIEST. 
 
 tion of natural curios. The boy knew better but concealed his 
 knowledge. He longed for a repetition of the solemnity. But 
 unfortunately, just when the most opportune sun arose, the por- 
 celain cup was not at hand : he placed the pastils on the upper 
 
1 g2 GOETHE. 
 
 surface of the stand with no protection ; they were kindled ; and 
 so great was the devotion of the priest, that he did not observe 
 until it was too late the mischief his sacrifice was doing. The 
 pastils had burned mercilessly into the red lacquer and beauti- 
 ful gold flowers, and had vanished as if some evil spirits had 
 left their black, ineffaceable footprints. This threw the young 
 priest into the most extreme perplexity. The mischief could be 
 covered up to be sure with the largest of his specimens ; but the 
 spirit for new offerings was gone, and the accident might almost 
 be considered a hint and warning of the danger there always is 
 in wishing to approach the Deity in such a way." 
 
 Goethe's polytheistic tendencies appear in an elaboration of 
 the Christian doctrines into a religious system which was similar 
 to the old gnosticism with the details of which, however, Goethe 
 was probably unfamiliar. His elaboration will thei-efore remain 
 a curious parallel in the eyes of any one who compares the laws 
 of mental evolution in the individual and in the history of man- 
 kind. We ought to remember though that the following state- 
 ment must not be taken too seriously. We must bear in mind 
 that here it is Goethe the poet who speaks, and he recapitulates 
 merely a phase of his development, not the final result of his 
 views. He says : 
 
 "I diligently studied the various Opinions; and I had often 
 enough heard it said that ultimately every man has his own re- 
 ligion, so nothing seemed more natural to me than that I should 
 form mine too; and this I did with much satisfaction. Neo- 
 Platonism lay at the foundation; the hermetical, the mystical, the 
 cabalistic, also contributed their share; and thus I built for myself 
 a world that looked strange enough. 
 
 "I could easily represent to myself a Godhead which has 
 gone on producing itself from all eternit)'^; but, as production 
 can not be conceived without multiplicity, so of necessity it must 
 have immediately appeared to itself as a Second, which we rec- 
 ognize under the name of Son; now, these two must continue 
 producing, and again manifested themselves in a Third, who was 
 just as substantial, living, and eternal as the Whole. With these 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 183 
 
 three, however, the circle of the Godhead was complete; and it 
 would not have been possible for them to produce another per- 
 fectly equal to them. 
 
 "But, since the creative impulse always proceeded, they cre- 
 ated a fourth, which from the beginning was self-contradictory, 
 inasmuch as it was, like them, unlimited, and yet at the same 
 time was to be contained in them and bounded by them. Now, 
 this was Lucifer, to whom the whole power of creation was com- 
 mitted from this time forth, and from whom all other beings 
 were to proceed. He immediately displayed his infinite activity 
 by creating the whole concourse of angels, — all, again, after his 
 own likeness, unlimited, but contained in him and bounded by 
 him. Surrounded by such a glory, he forgot his higher origin, 
 and believed that he could find it within himself ; and from this 
 first ingratitude sprang all that does not seem to us in accordance 
 with the will and purposes of the Godhead. 
 
 "Now the more Lucifer concentrated himself within himself, 
 the more painful must his condition have become to him, as well 
 as to all the spirits whose sweet uprising to their origin he had 
 prevented. And so there took place what is known to us as the 
 Fall of the Angels. One part of them joined Lucifer, the others 
 turned to their origin. 
 
 "From this concentration of cosmic development — for it had 
 proceeded out of Lucifer, and was bound to follow him — sprang 
 all that we perceive under the form of matter, which we figure 
 to ourselves as heavy, solid, and dark, but which, since it is 
 descended, if even not immediately, yet by filiation, from the 
 Divine Being, is just as unlimited, powerful, and eternal as its 
 sire and grandsire. 
 
 "Now since the whole mischief, if we may call it so, arose 
 merely through the one-sided direction of Lucifer, the better part 
 of this creation was indeed wanting; for it possessed all that is 
 gained by concentration, while it lacked all that can be effected 
 by expansion alone, and so the entire creation might have been 
 destroyed by everlasting concentration, have become annihilated 
 with its father Lucifer, and have lost all its claims to an equal 
 eternity with the Godhead. This condition the Elohim contem- 
 plated for a time : and they had their choice, either to wait for 
 
184 GOETHE. 
 
 those eons in which the field would again have become clear, and 
 space would be left them for a new creation : or, if they would, 
 to seize upon that which already existed, and supply the want 
 according to their own eternity. They chose the latter, and 
 merely by their will supplied in an instant the whole want which 
 the consequence of Lucifer's undertaking involved. They gave 
 to the Eternal Being the faculty of expansion, of moving towards 
 them : the peculiar pulse of life was again restored, and Lucifer 
 himself could not avoid its efifects. This is the epoch when that 
 appeared which we know as light, and when that began which 
 we are accustomed to designate by the word 'creation.' 
 
 "However much this multiplied itself by progressive degrees, 
 through the continually working vital power of the Elohim, still 
 a being was wanting who might be able to restore the original 
 connection with the Godhead : and so man was created, who in all 
 things was to be similar, yea, equal to the Godhead, but thereby, 
 in effect, found himself once more in the situation of Lucifer, that 
 of being at once unlimited and limited. And since this contra- 
 diction was to manifest itself in him through all the categories 
 of existence, and a perfect consciousness, as well as a decided 
 will, was to accompany his various conditions, it was to be fore- 
 seen that he must be at the same time the most perfect and the 
 most imperfect, the most happy and the most unhappy, creature. 
 It was not long before he, too, completely acted the part of Luci- 
 fer. True ingratitude is the separation from the benefactor ; and 
 thus that fall was manifest for the second time, although the 
 whole creation is nothing and was nothing but a falling from and 
 returning to the original. 
 
 "One easily sees how the Redemption has here not only been 
 decreed from eternity, but is considered as eternally necessary, 
 — nay, that it must ever renew itself through the whole time of 
 becoming and being {Werden und Wesen). In this view of the 
 subject, nothing is more natural than for Divinity itself to take 
 on the form of man, which had already prepared itself as a veil, 
 and to share his fate for a short time, in order, by this assimila- 
 tion, to enhance his joys and alleviate his sorrows. The history 
 of all religions and philosophies teaches us that this great truth, 
 indispensable to man, has been handed down by different nations, 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 185 
 
 in different times, in various ways, and even in strange fables 
 and images, in accordance with their Hmited knowledge. Enough, 
 if it only be acknowledged that we find ourselves in a condition, 
 which, even if it seems to drag us down and oppress us, yet 
 gives us opportunity, nay, even makes it our duty, to uplift our- 
 selves, and thereby to fulfil the purposes of the Godhead, so that, 
 while we are compelled on the one hand to actualize our own 
 selves (uns zu versclhsten) , we, on the other hand, do not fail 
 to unself ourselves {ims zn entselbstigen) in regular pulsation." 
 
 Goethe disliked the jealousy of the God of the Jews who 
 would not tolerate other gods beside himself. He loved Jacobi 
 for his positive Christian conviction, and was only alienated from 
 him through his friend's narrowness, but even then he never 
 ceased to appreciate his character and to cherish his regard. It 
 is well known that the poet's pagan spirit frequently proved 
 offensive to the piety of this devout Christian; but it would be 
 wrong to think that Goethe was an enemy to Christianity, for he 
 was both Christian and pagan at once. 
 
 Goethe wrote in his diary of 1812: 
 
 "Jacobi's book 'On Divine Things' does me no good. How 
 could I welcome the book of a dearly beloved friend in which I 
 found the proposition that 'nature conceals God'? Is it not 
 natural that according to my pure, and deep, and inborn, and 
 expert conception which has taught me unfalteringly to see God 
 in nature and nature in God, so that this conception constitutes 
 the foundation of my entire existence — is it not natural that such 
 a strange and onesided and limited exposition must alienate me 
 from the noble man whose heart I dearly love ? However, I did 
 not indulge my painful disappointment, but sought refuge in my 
 old asylum, making Spinoza's 'Ethics' for several weeks my daily 
 entertainment." 
 
 With regard to the same book Jacobi wrote to Goethe on 
 December 28, 1812 : "I am sorry that my booklet has 'pretty much 
 indisposed' you. Perhaps you will read it over once more after 
 a year's time and I sincerely hope that you will. I do not believe. 
 
186 GOETHE. 
 
 as you do, that we are constantly diverging, but that my love for 
 you cannot die, you should know." 
 
 Goethe answered this kind letter of his friend on January 
 
 6, 1813: 
 
 "Men are united by convictions ; they are separated by opin- 
 ions. The former are units in which we come together, the 
 latter are manifolds in which we become dispersed .... The 
 
 FRIEDRICH HEINRICH JACOBI. 
 
 friendships of our youth are founded on the former; our dif- 
 ferences in an advanced age are due to the latter. As to myself 
 I can not, considering the diverse directions of my nature, be 
 satisfied with one way of thinking. As a poet and artist I am 
 polytheistic, as a naturalist I am pantheistic, and I am the one as 
 decidedly as the other. In case I needed a God for my personality 
 as a moral being, I should be provided therewith. Heavenly and 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 187 
 
 earthly things comprise such a wide realm that they can be 
 covered only by the activity of all taken together. You see such 
 is my case, and in this way I work entirely within and without 
 myself, and I desire that every one else should do the same. 
 Only when what is indispensable for my own being and doing 
 is treated by others as subordinate, unreal or even obnoxious, do 
 I permit myself for some moments to be cross, nor do I conceal 
 it from my friends or those who are near me. The mood soon 
 passes and though I may be headstrong in my own way, I be- 
 ware of a reaction." 
 
 After Jacobi's death in 1819, Goethe sums up his view of him 
 as follows : "Jacobi thought first of spirit, I of nature. We were 
 separated by what should have united us, but the first ground of 
 our relations remained unshaken. Our inclination, love and con- 
 fidence remained constant, yet the loving interest became grad- 
 ually less and finally disappeared. During our later labors we 
 never again exchanged a friendly word. Strange that persons 
 who cultivate the powers of thought could not become clear con- 
 cerning their mutual relations, that they should allow themselves 
 to be disturbed, through a mere onesidedness of speech, by an- 
 tagonistic thought and error that could easily be removed. Why 
 did we not say in season, 'Who desires the highest, must will the 
 whole ; who speaks of spirit must presuppose nature ; who speaks 
 of nature must presuppose spirit, or if not presuppose, must 
 tacitly assume it. We cannot separate thinking from thought, 
 will from what is willed.' Had we tried to understand one an- 
 other we might have gone through life hand in hand, instead, 
 as is now the case, at the end of our careers when contemplating 
 our paths trodden in separation, with a kindly and even cordial, 
 but none the less actual, regret." 
 
 Goethe can scarcely be called a believer in Christian dogmas, 
 but he always took a deep and sympathetic interest in genuinely 
 pious people. His friendship for Fraulein von Klettenberg, his 
 fondness for Jacobi and his intimacy with Jung-Stilling are well 
 known. He went so far as to help the latter in the publication 
 of his books which appeared under the titles Heinrich Stillings 
 
188 GOETHE. 
 
 Jugend and Stillings Junglingsjahre. At first sight Goethe might 
 be thought to hold views at the same time that seem irrecon- 
 cilable, and yet there need be no inconsistency in his several 
 utterances. We will here enumerate some of these apparent con- 
 tradictions. 
 
 Goethe's poetic nature made him appreciate Roman Catholic 
 ceremonies and rituals. Protestantism was too prosaic and did 
 not appeal to his emotional nature. His views are worth con- 
 sidering. He writes : 
 
 "The Protestant service has too little fulness and consistency 
 to be able to hold the congregation together; hence it easily 
 happens that members secede from it, and either form little con- 
 gregations of their own, or, without ecclesiastical connection, 
 quietly carry on their civic existence side by side. Thus for a 
 considerable time complaints were made that church-going di- 
 minished from year to year, and also attendance at the Lord's 
 Supper. With respect to both, but especially the latter, the cause 
 Hes close at hand; but who dares speak it out? We will make 
 the attempt. 
 
 "In moral and religious, as well as in physical and civic, 
 matters, man does not like to do anything on the spur of the 
 moment; he needs a sequence from which habit results. What 
 he is to love and to perform, he cannot represent to himself as 
 single or isolated; and, if he is to repeat anything willingly, it 
 must not have become strange to him. If the Protestant worship 
 lacks fulness in general, so let it be investigated in detail, and it 
 will be found that the Protestant has too few sacraments, — nay, 
 indeed, he has only one in which he is himself an actor, the 
 Lord's Supper; for baptism he sees only when it is performed 
 on others, and is not greatly edified by it. The sacraments are 
 the highest part of religion, the symbols to our senses of an 
 extraordinary divine favor and grace. In the Lord's Supper 
 earthly lips are to receive a divine Being embodied, and partake 
 of a heavenly nourishment under the form of an earthly one. 
 This import is the' same in all kinds of Christian churches. 
 Whether the sacrament is taken with more or less submission to 
 the mystery, with more or less accommodation as to that which is 
 intelligible, it always remains a great, holy thing, which in reality 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 189 
 
 takes the place of the possible or the impossible, the place of that 
 which man can neither attain nor do without. But such a sacra- 
 ment should not stand alone. No Christian can partake of it 
 with the true joy for which it is given if the symbolical or sacra- 
 mental sense is not fostered within him. He must be accustomed 
 to regard the inner religion of the heart and that of the external 
 church as perfectly one, as the great universal sacrament, which 
 again divides itself into so many others, and communicates to 
 these parts its holiness and eternity. 
 
 "Here a youthful pair join hands, not for a passing saluta- 
 tion or for a dance ; the priest pronounces his blessing upon them, 
 and the bond is indissoluble. It is not long before this wedded 
 pair bring their own likeness to the threshold of the altar. The 
 infant is purified with holy water, and so incorporated into the 
 church that it cannot forfeit this benefit except through the most 
 monstrous apostasy. In the course of life the child goes on grow- 
 ing in worldly things of his own accord, but in heavenly things 
 he must be instructed. If on examination it proves that this has 
 been fully done, he is received into the bosom of the church as 
 an actual citizen, as a sincere and fully convinced Christian, not 
 without outward tokens of the significance of this act. Now, 
 only, is he truly a Christian ; now for the first time does he know 
 his privileges and also his duties. But, in the meantime, a great 
 deal that is strange has happened to him as a man. Through in- 
 struction and affliction he has come to know how critical appears 
 the state of his inner self, and there questions of doctrines and of 
 transgressions will constantly occur; but punishment shall no 
 longer take place. For here in the infinite confusion in which 
 he must entangle himself, amid the conflict of natural and re- 
 ligious claims, an admirable expedient is given him, in con- 
 fiding his deeds and misdeeds, his infirmities and doubts, to a 
 worthy man appointed expressly for that purpose, who knows 
 how to calm, to warn, to strengthen him, to chasten him likewise 
 by symbolical punishments, and at last, by complete washing away 
 of his guilt, to render him happy, and to give him back, pure and' 
 cleansed, the tablet of his manhood. Thus prepared, and set 
 entirely at rest by several sacramental features, he kneels down 
 to receive the Host ; and, that the mystery of this high act may 
 
190 GOETHE. 
 
 be still enhanced, he sees the chalice only in the distance. It is 
 no common eating and drinking that satisfies — it is a heavenly 
 feast, which makes him thirst after heavenly drink. 
 
 "Yet let not the youth believe that this is all he has to do : let 
 not even the man believe it. In earthly relations we finally be- 
 come accustomed to depend on ourselves ; and even there knowl- 
 edge, understanding, and character will not always suffice ; while 
 On the other hand in heavenly things we never finish learning. 
 The higher feeling within us, which often finds itself not quite 
 at home, is, moreover, oppressed by so much from without, that 
 our own power hardly administers all that is necessary for 
 counsel, consolation, and help. But to this end that remedy is 
 instituted for our whole life, and an intelligent, pious man is 
 continually waiting to show the right way to the wanderers, and 
 to relieve the distressed. 
 
 "And what has been so well tried throughout all of life, is 
 now to show forth all its healing power with tenfold strength 
 at the gate of death. According to a familiar custom, inculcated 
 from youth upwards, the dying man receives with fervor those 
 symbolical, significant assurances, and where every earthly war- 
 ranty fails, he is assured by a heavenly one of a blessed existence 
 for all eternity. He feels perfectly convinced that neither a 
 hostile element nor a malignant spirit can hinder him from cloth- 
 ing himself with a transfigured body, so that, in direct relation 
 with the Godhead, he may partake of the boundless bliss which 
 flows forth from God. 
 
 "Then, in conclusion, that the whole man may be made holy, 
 the feet are anointed and blessed. They are to feel, even in the 
 event of possible recovery, a repugnance to touching this eiarthly, 
 hard, impenetrable soil. A wonderful elasticity is to be imparted 
 to them, by which they spurn from under the clod of earth 
 which hitherto attracted them. And so, through a brilliant cycle 
 of equally holy acts, the beauty of which we have only briefly 
 hinted at, the cradle and the grave, however far asunder they 
 may chance to be, are joined in one continuous circle. 
 
 "But all these spiritual wonders spring not like other fruits 
 from the natural soil, where they can neither be sown nor planted 
 nor cherished. We must supplicate for them another region— a 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 191 
 
 thing which cannot be done by all persons nor at all times. Here 
 we meet the highest of these symbols, derived from pious tradi- 
 tion. We are told that one man may be more favored, blessed, 
 and sanctified from above than another. But that this may not 
 appear as a natural gift, this great boon, bound up with a heavy 
 duty, must be communicated to others by one authorized person 
 to another ; and the greatest good that a man can gain, without 
 having to acquire it by his own wrestling or grasping, must be 
 preserved and perpetuated on earth by spiritual inheritance. In 
 the very ordination of the priest is comprehended all that is neces- 
 sary for the effectual solemnizing of those holy acts by which 
 the multitude receive grace, without any other activity being need- 
 ful on their part than that of faith and implicit confidence. And 
 thus the priest joins the line of his predecessors and successors 
 in the circle of those anointed with him, representing the highest 
 source of blessings, so much the more gloriously as it is not he, 
 the priest, whom we reverence, but his office ; it is not his nod to 
 which we bow the knee, but the blessing which he imparts, and 
 which seems the more holy, and to come the more immediately 
 from heaven, because the earthly instrument cannot at all weaken 
 or invalidate it by its own sinful, nay, wicked, nature. 
 
 "How shattered to pieces is this truly spiritual connection in 
 Protestantism, which declares part of the above-mentioned sym- 
 bols apocryphal, and only a few canonical! — and how, by their 
 indifference to some of these, will they prepare us for the high 
 dignity of the others ? 
 
 "In my childhood I was once confided to the religious instruc- 
 tion of a good old infirm clergyman, who had been confessor 
 of the family for many years. The 'Catechism,' a 'Paraphrase' 
 of it, and the 'Scheme of Salvation,' I had at my fingers' ends : 
 I lacked not one of the strong and convincing Biblical texts, but 
 from all this I reaped no fruit, for as they assured me that the 
 honest old man arranged his chief examination according to an 
 ancient set formulary, I lost all pleasure and inclination for the 
 affair, spent the last week in all sorts of diversions, laid in my 
 hat the loose leaves borrowed from an older friend who had 
 gotten them from the clergyman, and unfeelingly and without 
 
192 GOETHE. 
 
 understanding read aloud all that I might have uttered with feel- 
 ing and conviction. 
 
 "My good intention and my aspirations in this important 
 matter were still more paralyzed by a dry, spiritless routine, 
 when I was about to approach the confessional. I was indeed 
 conscious of having many failings but no great faults; and that 
 very consciousness diminished them, since it directed me to the 
 moral strength which lay within me, and which, with resolution 
 and perseverance, was at last to become master over the old 
 Adam. We were taught that we were much better than the 
 Catholics for the very reason that we were not obliged to confess 
 anything in particular in the confessional, — nay, that this would 
 not be at all proper, even if we wished to do it. I did not like 
 this at all; for I had the strangest religious doubts, which I 
 would gladly have cleared up on such an occasion. Now, as 
 this was not to be done, I composed a confession for myself, 
 which, while it well expressed my state of mind, was to confess 
 to an intelligent man, in general terms, that which I was for- 
 bidden to tell him in detail. But when I entered the old choir 
 of the ancient church of the Barefoot Friars (the church used 
 by the Protestants of Frankfort) , when I approached the strange 
 latticed closets in which the reverend gentlemen used to be found 
 for that purpose, when the sexton opened the door for me, when 
 I now saw myself shut up in the narrow place face to face with 
 my spiritual grandsire and he bade me welcome with his weak, 
 nasal voice, all the light of my mind and heart was extinguished 
 at once, the well-conned confession-speech would not cross my 
 lips. In my embarrassment I opened the book I had in my hand, 
 and read from it the first short form I saw, which was so general, 
 that anybody might have spoken it with quite a safe conscience. 
 I received absolution, withdrew neither warm nor cold, went the 
 next day with my parents to the Table of the Lord, and, for a 
 few days, behaved myself as was becoming after so holy an act." 
 While Goethe praises the beauty of the Roman Catholic cere- 
 monies and criticizes the prosaic tenor of the Protestant religion, 
 he recognizes the significance of the Reformation and expresses 
 gratitude to Luther. In the very last year of his life in his 
 "Conversations with Eckermarin" he said: 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 193 
 
 "We are not in the least aware of all for which we have to 
 thank Luther and the Reformation in general. We have been made 
 free from the fetters of spiritual narrowness ; as a result of our 
 advancing culture we have become able to go back to the source 
 and grasp Christianity in its purity. We have once more the 
 courage to stand on God's earth with firm feet and to recognize 
 ourselves in our God-given human nature. If the spiritual cul- 
 ture continues to advance, if the natural sciences grow in ever 
 increasing breadth and greater depth, and if the human soul ex- 
 pands, as it may, it will never surpass the sublimity and moral 
 culture of Christianity as it gleams and shines in the Gospels." 
 
 Goethe was broader then either Roman Catholic or Protes- 
 tant, and in the face of an 'attempt made by Countess Bernstein 
 to convert him, he maintained his position in these words (Oc- 
 tober, 1809) : "I have tried my life long to be candid with myself 
 and with others, and in all earthly affairs have always looked at 
 the highest things; you and yours have done the same. Let us 
 therefore continue so as long as it is day for us ; a sun will shine 
 for others also. They will make their way to it and incidentally 
 illuminate us with a brighter light. May all be again united in 
 the arms of the all-loving Father !" 
 
 Goethe was a good observer and he noticed that pious Chris- 
 tians, in spite of their agreement in belief, held very different 
 religious tenets. The words in which they expressed themselves 
 were to some extent the same, but the sentiments, attitudes and 
 conceptions of each varied according to their needs. So, for in- 
 stance, he noted when Lavater met Fraulein von Klettenberg in 
 Frankfort, that, although they were apparently and in all ex- 
 ternalities one in their religious faith, yet they conceived of their 
 Saviour in a very different manner. Goethe says in "Truth and 
 Fiction," Book XIV : "It has been repeatedly claimed in times of 
 toleration that every man has his own religion, his own way of 
 serving God. Although I did not maintain this directly I could 
 notice in the present case that men and women stand in need of 
 a different Saviour. Fraulein von Klettenberg's attitude to him 
 was a woman's attitude toward a lover to whom she surrenders 
 
194 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 unconditionally. All joy and all hope is placed in his person 
 and she entrusts to him, and without doubt or hesitancy, the fate 
 of her life. Lavater, however, regarded his Saviour as a friend 
 
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 JOHANN KASPAR LAVATER. 
 After a water color by H. Lips in tlie K. K. Familien-Fideikommiss-Bibliothek. 
 whom a man would jealously strive to imitate without envy and 
 lovingly, whose merit he recognizes and praises and like whom 
 for that reason he endeavors to become." 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 195 
 
 Goethe was not an anti-Christian but an anti-dogmatist, and 
 demurred when Lavater attempted to convert him to his rather 
 narrow view of Christianity. If he had to be classified at all he 
 would even have preferred an outspoken infidelity. He says in 
 "Truth and Fiction" (Book XIV) : 
 
 "All unsuccessful attempts at conversion leave him who has 
 been selected for a proselyte stubborn and obdurate; and this 
 was especially the case with me when Lavater at last came out 
 with the hard dilemma, — 'Either Christian or atheist!' Upon 
 this I declared that if he would not leave me my own Christianity 
 as I had hitherto cherished it I could readily decide for atheism, 
 particularly as I saw that nobody knew precisely what either 
 meant." 
 
 Goethe loved and cherished the Bible ; he says : "As for my- 
 self I loved and valued it; for almost to it alone did I owe my 
 moral culture. The events, the doctrines, the symbols, the similes, 
 had all impressed themselves deeply upon me and had influenced 
 me in one way or another. Unjust, scoffing, and perverted at- 
 tacks, therefore, disgusted me ; but people had already gone so far 
 as willingly to admit, partly for the sake of defending many pas- 
 sages, that God had accommodated himself to the modes of 
 thought and power of comprehension in men; that even those 
 moved by the spirit had not on that account been able to renounce 
 their character, their individuality, and that Amos, a cow-herd, 
 did not use the language of Isaiah, who is said to have been a 
 prince." 
 
 An incident recorded by Falk under the date of November 
 10, 1810, seems to stand in flat contradiction to Goethe's praise 
 of the Bible. In a conversation which he carried on with a 
 bigoted Roman Catholic doctor in 1810 in the presence of the 
 high-minded and pious Louis Bonaparte, ex-king of Holland, he 
 branded the Bible as a"Hangerous book. We let Goethe tell this 
 incident in his own words as related by Falk : 
 
 "But once when he [this bigoted man] started again an almost 
 Capuchinian tirade on the dangierousness of books and the book- 
 trade I could not help answering him with the opinion that the 
 
196 GOETHE. 
 
 most dangerous of all books, so far as the history of the world is 
 concerned, is indubitably the Bible, because no other book has 
 brought so much good and so much evil to the human race. When 
 I had finished this speech I was somewhat frightened at what I 
 had said, for I thought the powder-mine would now explode into 
 the air in all directions. Fortunately, however, it happened 
 otherwise. To be sure I saw the doctor first grow pale and then 
 red again from terror and wrath at these words, but the king 
 composed himself with his usual gentleness and friendliness and 
 said almost jokingly : 'Cela perce quelquefois que Monsieur de 
 Goethe est heretique' ; ( Sometimes the heretic crops out in Mon- 
 sieur de Goethe)." 
 
 In Wilhelm Meister, Book VI, we read the following passage, 
 which we cannot doubt relates an incident of Goethe's own ex- 
 perience, although it may seem inconsistent with the understand- 
 ing of his views we have received from other statements he has 
 made. He says : "Once I prayed out of the depth of my heart, 
 'Now Almighty give me faith.' I was then in the condition in 
 v.hich one must be, but seldom is, when one's prayers are ac- 
 ceptable to God. Who could describe what I felt in those 
 moments? A powerful impulse drew my soul to the cross on 
 which Jesus had perished. My soul was near to him who had 
 become man and died on the cross, and then I knew what faith 
 meant. 'This is faith indeed,' I cried, and started up overawed 
 by the idea. For such emotions as these all words fail us." 
 
 Goethe did not reject the Christian religion, but only refused 
 to be limited by the narrowness of its dogmatism. He accepted 
 the truths which Christianity has given to the world, and mark 
 the reason why he accepted them : Because they cannot be claimed 
 as the exclusive possession of a sect, but are the heirloom of all 
 mankind. Therefore, he contends, the "scientist" has a right to 
 them; and identifying his right with that of the scientist, Goethe 
 claims them for himself. 
 
 Addressing Christian believers, Goethe says: 
 
 Ye faithful, do not claim that your confession 
 Alone is truth ; for we have faith like you. 
 
 Searchers can't be deprived of the possession 
 Belonging to the world, and to me too. 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 197 
 
 [Ihr Glaubigen ! riihmt nur nicht euern Glauben 
 
 Als einzigen: wir glauben audi wie ihr; 
 Der Forschei- lasst sich keineswegs berauben 
 Des Erbtheils, aller Welt gegonnt— und mir.] 
 
 Goethe, the searcher, the mquirer, believes in a reHgion of 
 progress and would not reject any light, whatever its source. 
 
 Goethe disliked the literal belief in dogma and the narrow 
 interpretation of the sacraments. He refused to attend the bap- 
 tism of Schiller's second son because the ceremony would jar 
 on him, but he was not opposed to Christianity. Accordingly 
 he had his own son instructed in the Christian doctrine by his 
 friend Herder who at that time was superintendent-general of 
 the Weimar State Church. Herder consented to undertake this 
 task in a liberal spirit and Goethe thanked him in these words: 
 "You will have the kindness, my old and honored friend, to 
 introduce my son to the Christian fellowship in a more liberal 
 manner than custom prescribes. For this I thank you most 
 heartily." 
 
 * * * 
 
 We meet frequently with the statement that Goethe's con- 
 fession of faith is contained in Faust's reply to Margaret.^ The 
 passage is most beautiful and the words are so much like music 
 as to deserve to be called a sonata of thought. Rhymes prevail 
 in the beginning but are soon discarded while the verses proceed 
 more and more in a dithyrambic style simply in obedience to the 
 general principle of euphony. 
 
 In contrast to the common view I wish here to protest against 
 the traditional interpretation. Faust's reply to Margaret is not 
 intended to be a confession of faith, either of Faust or of Goethe 
 himself. We must understand the scene according to the situa- 
 tion. Margaret in her anxiety about the soul of her dearly be- 
 loved examines her friend as to his belief in God, and he dodges 
 the question, because he is unwilling to shock her with his un- 
 belief. A philosophical explanation would be out of place with 
 this sweet but simple-minded girl, and so he resorts to the strate- 
 gem of answering her question in fine-sounding phrases. His 
 words are carefully selected so as to make the same impression 
 ' In the sixteenth scene of the first part of "Faust." 
 
198 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 upon her that she receives from sermons in church, while in 
 fact his meaning is the very opposite to the doctrines preached 
 by the priest. His tone, his fervor, and his style are about the 
 same as a devout pulpiteer might use, but the sense is different. 
 If we read the scene with this interpretation in mind, we will 
 readily understand that Faust's reply to Margaret can not, and 
 should not, be regarded as Goethe's confession of faith. Here 
 - is the scene in Bayard Taylor's excellent translation : 
 
 MARGARET. 
 
 Believest thou in God? 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 My darling, who shall dare 
 "I believe in God!" to say? 
 Ask priest or sage the answer to de- 
 clare, 
 And it will seem a mocking play, 
 A sarcasm on the asker. 
 
 MARGARET. 
 
 Then thou believest not! 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Hear me not falsely, sweetest coun- 
 tenance ! 
 Who dare express Him? 
 And who profess Him? 
 Saying: I believe in Him! 
 Who, feeling, seeing, 
 Deny His being. 
 Saying: I believe Him not! 
 The All-enfolding, 
 The All-upholding, 
 'Folds and upholds He not 
 Thee, me, Himself? 
 Arches there not the sky above us? 
 Lies not beneath us firm the earth? 
 And rise not, on us shining. 
 Friendly, the everlasting stars? 
 Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, 
 And feel'st not, thronging 
 To head and heart, the force, 
 Still weaving its eternal secret, 
 Invisible, visible, round thy life? 
 Vast as it is, fill with that force thy 
 heart, 
 
 MAKGARETE. 
 
 [Glaubst Du an Gott? 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Mein Liebchen,-wer darf sagen: 
 Ich glaub' an Gott? 
 Magst Priester oder Weise fragen, 
 Und ihre Antwort scheint nur Spott 
 Ueber den Frager zu sein. 
 
 MARG ARETE. 
 
 So glaubst Du nicht? 
 
 Misshor mich nicht, Du holdes Ange- 
 
 sicht ! 
 Wer darf ihn nennen, 
 Und wer bekennen : 
 Ich glaub' ihn? 
 Wer empfinden 
 Und sich unterwinden, 
 Zu sagen: ich glaub' ihn nicht? 
 Der AUumfasser, 
 Der Allerhalter, 
 Fasst und erhalt er nicht 
 Dich, mich, sich selbst? 
 Wolbt sich der Himmel nicht da 
 
 droben ? 
 Liegt die Erde nicht hier unten fest? 
 Und steigen, freundlich blickend, 
 Ewige Sterne nicht herauf? 
 Schau' ich nicht Aug' in Auge Dir, 
 Und drangt nicht AUes 
 Nach Haupt und Herzen Dir 
 Und webt in ewigem Geheimniss, 
 Unsichtbar, sichtbar, neben Dir? 
 Erfiill davon Dein Herz, so gross es 
 
 ist. 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 199 
 
 And when thou in the feehng wholly Und wenn Du ganz in dem Gefiihle 
 
 blessed art, selig bist, 
 
 Call it, then, what thou wilt,— Nenn' es dann, wie Du willst. 
 
 Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! Nenn's Gliick! Herz! Liebe!'Gott! 
 
 I have no name to give it ! Ich habe keinen Namen 
 
 Feeling is all in all : Dafiir ! Gefiihl ist Alles ; 
 
 The Name is sound and smoke, Name ist Schall und Rauch, 
 
 Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. Umnebelnd Himmelsgluth. 
 
 MARGARET. MAEGARETE. 
 
 All that is fine and good, to hear it so : Das ist Alles recht schon und gut ; 
 
 Much the same way the preacher Ungefahr sagt das der Pfarrer auch, 
 
 spoke, Nyr mit ein Bisschen andern Worten. 
 Only with slightly different phrases. 
 
 FAUST. PAUST. 
 
 The same thing in all places, Es sagen's aller Orten 
 
 All hearts that beat beneath the heav- Alle Hcrzen unter dem himmlischen 
 
 enly day— Tage, 
 
 Each in its language— say ; Jedes in seiner Sprache; 
 
 Then why not I, in mine, as well? Warum nicht ich in der meinen?] 
 
 Faust's declaration as to his belief in God consists of phrases 
 and of phrases only. It doesTiot contain thoughts but displays a 
 wonderful iridescence of sentiment, calculated to intoxicate the 
 heart and capture the hearer's assent. 
 
 But where can we find Goethe's true confession of faith? 
 
 If Goethe ever wrote a confession of his faith it should be 
 sought in the poem entitled "Prometheus," but even this slogan of 
 the rebel, written in a mood of storm and stress, expresses only 
 the religion of one of Goethe's souls. It is one-sided and incom- 
 plete unless it be contrasted with some other poem such as "Gany- 
 mede," "The Limitations of Mankind," or "The Divine." 
 
 The young Goethe passed through the period of revolution, 
 called Sturm und Drang. ^ He was thrilled with the revolution- 
 ary spirit of titanic genius. He longed for independence and 
 dared to assert himself in the face of any authority. But the old 
 Goethe had calmed down, and was perfectly aware of the neces- 
 
 " The traditional translation of this phrase, which is "the period of storm 
 and stress," is not quite correct. The meaning of the German words Sturm- 
 und Drang-Periode does not denote an external condition, but a subjective, 
 and active attitude of a certain class of German poets. They were trying to 
 take the heavens by storm and applied themselves with bold vigor. Sturm 
 in this connection does not mean "a storm" but "a storming," and Drang a 
 pressing forward; violent endeavor; a wild aspiration," 
 
^00 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 sity of order, of law, of steady and peaceful conditions in life. 
 This contrast between the young and the older Goethe does not 
 characterize successive periods but is simultaneous. The titanic 
 nature predominates in his youth and a Conservative spirit in his 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 maturer years, but they are both integral parts of his being 
 throughout the whole of his life. Both are reflected in his poetry 
 and both permeate his religion and philosophy. 
 
 Goethe wrote "Prometheus" at the end of the year 1774,' in a 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 201 
 
 period of his life when he isolated himself from others and so 
 felt in sympathy with the Titan who, apart from all the gods, 
 constructed in his lonely workshop a world of his own. He 
 communicated the poem to his friend Jacobi, and Jacobi showed 
 it to Lessing in 1780 without revealing its authorship, and Les- 
 sing was so pleased with it that he declared the standpoint taken 
 in "Prometheus" to be his own. 
 
 The poet gives the following account of his own intentions : 
 "The fable of Prometheus began to stir within me. I cut the 
 garment of the old Titan to suit my own stature, and without 
 further delay began to write a drama of the strained relations in 
 which Prometheus had become estranged from Zeus and the 
 other-gods. He now molded men with his own, hand, had them 
 endowed with life by the favor of Minerva, and founded a third 
 dynasty. And indeed the governing gods had good reason to 
 complain since they might be looked upon as occupying an illegiti- 
 mate place between Titans and men. Part of this work is the 
 monologue, which as a separate poem has made some stir in Ger- 
 man literature, because by it Lessing was prompted to explain 
 several important points in thought and sentiment in contrast to 
 Jacobi. It became a fuse for an explosion which revealed the 
 most intimate thoughts of worthy men and drove them to the 
 fore, revealing conditions which unconsciously were slumbering 
 in. the hearts of those members of our society who were other- 
 wise most enlightened." 
 
 The poem reads as follows : 
 
 Zeus, cover thou thy heaven 
 
 With cloudy mist, 
 
 And hke a boy 
 
 That chops off thistles, 
 
 Exercise thy strength 
 
 On oaks and mountain peaks. 
 
 Yet must thou leave me 
 
 The earth where standeth 
 
 My hut, which was not built by thee ; 
 
 In it my hearth, 
 
 Whose cheerful flame 
 
 Evokes thy envy. 
 
 Naught do I know more wretched 
 In all the world, than you, ye gods, 
 
 [Bedecke deinen Himmel, Zeus, 
 
 Mit Wolkfendunst 
 
 Und iibe, dem Knaben gleich, 
 
 Der Disteln kopft, 
 
 An Eichen dich und Bergeshohn! 
 
 Musst mir meiiie Erde 
 
 Doch lassen stehn, 
 
 Und meine Hiitte, die du nicht gebaut, 
 
 Und meinen Herd, 
 
 Um dessen Gluth 
 
 Du mich beneidest. 
 
 Ich kenne nichts Aermeres 
 Unter der Sonn', als euch, Gotter ! 
 
202 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 So miserably 
 
 With all your majesty, 
 
 Ye eke out your existence 
 
 By sacrifice 
 
 And mumbled prayer. 
 
 In sooth, ye'd starve 
 
 Were not children and beggars 
 
 Your hope-deluded dupes. 
 
 Ihr nahret kiimmerlich 
 Von Opfersteuern 
 Und Gebetshauch' 
 Eure Majestat, 
 Und darbtet, waren 
 Nicht Kindei; und Bettler 
 Hoffnungsvolle Thoren. 
 
 When I was still a child 
 And knew not where to turn, 
 Mine eye strayed heavenward 
 To the sun, as if above there were 
 An ear listening to my complaint, 
 A heart like mine 
 Feeling the dint of pity 
 For a troubled soul. 
 
 Da ich ein Kind war, 
 
 Nicht wusste wo aus noch ein, 
 
 Kehrt' ich mein verirrtes Auge 
 
 Zur Sonne, als wenn driiber war' 
 
 Ein Ohr, zu horen meine Klage, 
 
 Ein Herz, wie meins, 
 
 Sich des Bedrangten zu erbarmen. 
 
 Who helped, me 
 
 Against the Titans' insolence? 
 
 Who rescued me from death. 
 
 From slavery? 
 
 Didst not thyself accomplish all, 
 
 O holy, glowing heart, 
 
 Deluded in thy youthful goodness,. 
 
 Still glowing gratitude 
 
 Unto the slumbering god above? 
 
 Wer half mir 
 
 Wider der Titanen Uebermuth? 
 
 Wer rettete vom Tode mich, 
 
 Von Sklaverei? 
 
 Hast du nicht Alles selbst voUendet, 
 
 Heilig gliihend Herz, 
 
 Und gliihtest jung und gut, 
 
 Betrogen, Rettungsdank 
 
 Dem Schlafenden da droben? 
 
 Shall I yet honor thee? For what? 
 
 Didst thou ever assuage the pangs 
 
 Of the sorrow-laden? 
 
 Hast thou e'er dried the tears 
 
 Of souls in anguish? 
 
 Has not my manhood been wrought 
 
 in the forge 
 Of omnipotent Time 
 And of Fate, 
 My masters and thine? 
 
 Ich dich ehren? Wofiir? 
 
 Hast du die Schmerzen gelindert 
 
 Je des Beladenen? 
 
 Hast du die Thranen gestillet 
 
 Je des Geangsteten? 
 
 Hat nicht mich zum Manrie geschmie- 
 
 de|! 
 Die allmachtige Zeit 
 Und das ewige Schicksal, 
 Meine Herren und deine? 
 
 Thinkest thou 
 
 That I should hate life 
 
 And fly into deserts, 
 
 Because not all 
 
 My blossoming dreams 
 
 Riped into fruit? 
 
 Here am I, moulding men 
 After my image, 
 A race like mine 
 
 Wahntest du etwa, 
 
 Ich sollte das Leben hassen, 
 
 In Wiisten fliehen, 
 
 Weil nicht alle 
 
 Bluthentraume reiften? 
 
 Hier sitz' ich, forme Menschen 
 
 Nach meinem Bilde, 
 
 Ein Geschlecht, das mir gleich sei, 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 203 
 
 To suffer, to weep, 
 And to enjoy life; — 
 And to disdain thee 
 As I do. 
 
 Zu leiden, zu weinen, 
 Zu geniessen und zu freuen sich, 
 Und dein nicht zu achten, 
 Wie ich.l 
 
 The poem "Ganymede" represents Goethe's devotion which, 
 being expressed in the religious sentiment of ancient Greece! 
 finds expression in a prayer of the cup-bearer of Zeus. It reads 
 as follows : 
 
 In glitter of morning 
 
 Thou glowest around me, 
 
 Spring, thou beloved ! 
 
 With thousandfold passionate rapture 
 
 All my heart thrills 
 
 To. the touch divine 
 
 Of thine ardor undying. 
 
 Ambrosial Beauty! 
 
 Oh ! that I might enfold 
 
 Thee in this arm ! 
 
 Alas ! on thy bosom 
 
 Rest I, and languish, 
 
 And thy flowers and thy grass 
 
 Are pressed to my heart. 
 
 Thou coolest the burning 
 
 Thirst of my bosom, 
 
 Morning wind exquisite ! 
 
 Softly the nightingale 
 
 Calls to me out of the misty vale. 
 
 I come ! I am coming ! 
 
 Whither? Ah! whither? 
 
 Upward the effort ! 
 
 The clouds they are floating 
 
 Downwards, the white clouds 
 
 Bow down to the longing of love. 
 
 To me! Me! 
 
 In your lap float me 
 
 Aloft 
 
 Embraced and embracing ! 
 
 Aloft to thy bosom. 
 
 All-loving Father!" 
 
 — Tr. by William Gibson. 
 
 [Wie im Morgenglanze 
 
 Du rings mich angliihst, 
 
 Fruhling, Geliebter ! 
 
 Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne 
 
 Sich an mein Herz drangt 
 
 Deiner ewigen Warme 
 
 Heilig Gefiihl, 
 
 Unendliche Schone ! 
 
 Dass ich dich fassen mocht' 
 
 In diesen Arm ! 
 
 Ach, an deinem Busen 
 
 Lieg' ich, schmachte, 
 
 Und deine Blumen, dein Gras, 
 
 Drangen sich an mein Herz. 
 
 Du kiihlst den brennenden 
 
 Durst meines Busens, 
 
 Lieblicher Morgenwind! 
 
 Ruft drein die Nachtigall 
 
 Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebelthal. 
 
 Ich komm,' ich komme! 
 
 Wohin? Ach, wohin? 
 
 Hinauf! Hinauf strebt's. 
 
 Es schweben die Wolken 
 
 Abwarts, die Wolken 
 
 Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe. 
 
 Mir! Mir! 
 
 In euerm Schoosse 
 
 Aufwarts ! 
 
 Umfangend umfangen! 
 
 Aufwarts an deinen Busen, 
 
 Allliebender Vater!] 
 
 It was Goethe's intention to offset "Prometheus" by "Gany- 
 mede," but it seems to us that he succeeded better in describing 
 
204 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 religious devotion in two others of his dithyrambic poems, en- 
 titled "The Limitations of Mankind," and "The Divine." 
 
 In all these poems, as virell as in "Prometheus," Goethe speaks 
 as a believer in the Greek world-conception, and so the divine 
 order is conceived as a polytheistic monotheism,, the divinities 
 being represented by the celestials — "the higher beings whom we 
 revere" — among whom Zeus is the omnipotent, all-embracing 
 father. The poem "The Divine" reads as follows : 
 
 Man must be noble, 
 Helpful and good ! 
 For this alone 
 Distinguishes him 
 From all things 
 Within our ken. 
 
 [Edel sei der Mensch, 
 Hiilfreich und gut ! 
 Denn das allein 
 Unterscheidet ihn 
 Von alien Wesen, 
 Die wir kennen. 
 
 Hail to the unknown 
 Higher presences 
 Whom we divine: 
 May man be like them, 
 And his conduct teach us 
 To meet them in faith. 
 
 Heil den unbekannten 
 
 Hohern Wesen, 
 
 Die wir ahnen ! 
 
 Ihnen gleiche der Mensch, 
 
 Sein Beispiel lehr' uns 
 
 Jene glauben. 
 
 Nature around us 
 
 Is without feeling: 
 
 The sun sheds his light 
 
 On the good and the evil ; 
 
 The moon and the stars shine 
 
 Upon the guilty 
 
 As well as the upright. 
 
 Denn unfiihlend 
 
 1st die Natur : 
 
 Es leuchtet die Sonne 
 
 Ueber Bos' und Gute, 
 
 Und defn Verbrecher 
 
 Glanzen, wie dem Besten, 
 
 Der Mond und die Sterne. 
 
 Storms and torrents, 
 Hail and thunder, 
 Roar their course, 
 Seizing and taking 
 All things before them. 
 One after another. 
 
 Wind und Strome, 
 Donner und Hagel 
 Rauschen ihren Weg, 
 Und ergreifen, 
 Voriibereilend, 
 Einen um den Andern. 
 
 Thus also Fortune 
 Gropes 'mid the crowd. 
 Now seizing the schoolboy's 
 Curly innocence, 
 Now, too, the gray crown 
 Of aged guilt. 
 
 Eternal and iron-clad 
 Are nature's great laws 
 
 Auch so das Gliick 
 Tappt unter die Menge, 
 Fasst bald des Knaben 
 Lockige Unschuld, 
 Bald auch den kahlen 
 Scjiuldigen Scheitel. 
 
 Nach ewigen, ehrnen, 
 Grossen Gesetzen 
 
f-BTS, RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 205 
 
 By which all things 
 Must run and complete 
 The course of existence. 
 
 But man can accomplish, — 
 Man alone, — the impossible; 
 He discriminates, 
 Chooses and judges; 
 To the fleeting moment 
 He giveth duration. 
 
 His alone it is. 
 To reward the good. 
 To punish the wicked. 
 To save and to rescue, 
 To dispose with foresight 
 The erring, the straying. 
 
 And we revere 
 The great immortals 
 As if they were men. 
 Doing in great things 
 What in the lesser 
 The best one of mortals 
 Does or would fain do. 
 
 Let the noble man 
 
 Be helpful and good, 
 
 Untiringly do 
 
 What is useful and just ! 
 
 Be an example 
 
 Of those presences 
 
 Whom we divine. 
 
 Mussen wir AUe 
 Unseres Daseins 
 Kreise vollenden. 
 
 Nur allein der Mensch 
 Vermag das Unmogliche ; 
 Er unterscheidet, 
 Wahlet und richtet ; 
 Er kann dem Augenblick 
 Dauer verleihen. 
 
 Er allein darf 
 
 Den Guten lohnen, 
 
 Den Bosen strafen, 
 
 Heilen und retten, 
 
 AUes Irrende, Schweifende 
 
 Nutzlich verbinden. 
 
 Und wir verehren 
 
 Die Unsterblichen, 
 
 Als waren sie Menschen, 
 
 Thaten im Grossen, 
 
 Was der Beste im Kleinen 
 
 Thut Oder mcjchte. 
 
 Der edle Mensch 
 Sei hiilfreich und gut! 
 Unermiidet schafif' er 
 Das Niitzliche, Rechte, 
 Sei uns ein Vorbild 
 Jener geahneten Wesen!] 
 
 Goethe was by nature devout. He declared that "only re- 
 ligious men can be creative,"^ and so it was natural that he gave 
 repeated expression to his faith. The same sentiment of pious 
 submission to the Divine, to God, to Father Zeus, or whatever 
 we may call the Divinity that sways the fate of the world, is also 
 set forth in "The Limitations of Mankind," written in 1781, 
 which reads as follows: 
 
 When the primeval 
 Heavenly Father 
 With hand indifferent 
 Out of dark-rolling clouds 
 Scatters hot lightenings 
 
 [Wenn der uralte 
 Heilige Vater 
 Mit gelassener Hand 
 Aus rollenden Wolken 
 Sengende Blitze 
 
 ' In a letter addressed to Riemer, of Mkrch 26, 1820. 
 
206 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Over the earth, 
 Kiss I the lowest 
 Hem of His garment, 
 Kneeling before Him 
 In childlike trust. 
 
 Ueber die Erde sa't, 
 Kiiss' ich den letzten 
 Saum seines Kleides, 
 Kindliche Schauer 
 Treu in der Brust. 
 
 For with the gods 
 
 No mortal may ever 
 
 Himself compare. 
 
 Should he be lifted 
 
 Up, till he touches 
 
 The stars with his forehead, 
 
 No resting-place findeth 
 
 He for his feet, 
 
 Becoming a plaything 
 
 Of clouds and winds. 
 
 Denn mit Gottern 
 Soil sich nicht messen 
 Irgend ein Mensch. 
 Hebt er sich aufwarts, 
 Und beriihrt 
 
 Mit dem Scheitel die Sterne, 
 Nirgends haften dann 
 Die unsichern Sohlen, 
 Und mit ihm spiel en 
 Wolken und Winde. 
 
 Stands he with strong-knit 
 
 Marrowy bone 
 
 On the firmly founded 
 
 Enduring Earth, 
 
 Not high enough 
 
 Does he reach, 
 
 Merely to measure. 
 
 With oaks or vines. 
 
 Steht er mit festen 
 Markigen Knochen 
 Auf der wohlgegriindeten, 
 Dauernden Erde; 
 Reicht er nicht auf, 
 Nur mit der Eiche 
 Oder der Rebe 
 Sich zu vergleichen. 
 
 What distinguisheth 
 Celestials from mortals? 
 There are many billows 
 Before them rolling, 
 A stream unending; 
 We rise with a billow, 
 Collapse with a billow, 
 And we are gone. 
 
 Was unterscheidet 
 Cotter von Menschen? 
 Dass viele Wellen 
 Vor jenen wandeln, 
 Ein ewiger Strom: 
 Uns hebt die Welle, 
 Verschlingt die Welle, 
 Und wir versinken. 
 
 A little ring 
 Encircles our life, 
 And on it are linked 
 Generations to come. 
 In the infinite chain 
 Of their existence. 
 
 Ein kleiner Ring 
 Begrenzt unser Leben, 
 Und viele Geschlechter 
 Reihen sich dauernd 
 An ihres Daseins 
 Unendliche Kette.] 
 
 The contrast between these two kinds of poems, on the one 
 hand "Prometheus" and on the other hand "Ganymede," "The 
 Divine" and "The Limitations of Mankind," is almost a contra- 
 diction. Prometheus is the rebel who defies Zeus, while the other 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 207 
 
 poems exhibit piety, reverence, devotion for and love of the 
 divine, whether gods, angels, or saints, having Zeus or God as 
 the loving All-Father. 
 
 Goethe is convinced that both standpoints are justifiable and 
 that both are needed in the development of mankind. Man is 
 sometimes obliged to rebel against the conditions that would 
 dwarf him and hinder the growth of his individuality; he must 
 be a fighter even against the gods, and in his struggle he must 
 prove strong and unyielding, hard and unmovable, and yet such 
 a disposition should not be a permanent trait of his character. 
 The humanity of man teaches him to be tender and pliable, to be 
 full of concession and compromise. It may be difficult to com- 
 bine these two opposite c[ualities, but it is certain that in order to 
 be human and humane man stands in need of both. Man must 
 be courageous and warlike and at the same time kind-hearted 
 and a peace-maker. He must be animated with the spirit of 
 independence, and yet possess a spirit of reverence and regard 
 for order. He must be a doubter and yet have faith. He must 
 be a Titan, a rebel, an iconoclast, perhaps even an atheist, and yet 
 he must be devout and filled with love of God. 
 
 There was something of the nature of both Ganymede and 
 Prometheus in Goethe. 
 
 Goethe was too broad to be either a Christian or an anti- 
 Christian. He was both, and the Christians in his time, too 
 narrow to understand his position, called him a pagan. Goethe 
 was sufficiently clear-sighted to see that they were Christians in 
 name only, and that in spite of his unbelief he himself was a 
 better Christian than they. He said: "Who to-day is such a 
 Christian as Christ would have him? Perhaps I am the only 
 one, although you consider me a heathen." 
 
 Goethe was sometimes a pantheist after the heart of Spinoza, 
 and, as he himself said, sometimes a polytheist who found the 
 most perfect exposition of his religious views in Greek mythol- 
 ogy ; again he was a Christian and a theist. To be sure he did 
 not believe in the gods of Greece in the crude sense of paganism 
 or idolatry, but he recognized their presence in life after the 
 fashion of Greek sages, or perhaps better, of modern naturalists. 
 
20S eOETHE. 
 
 conceiving the gods as factors that shape our lives. Goethe him- 
 self calls them "blissfully creating forces."* 
 
 Goethe's religious attitude has mostly been misunderstood. 
 Though he gave ample evidence of his sympathy with Christian 
 sentiment, he was not a Christian in the narrow sense of the 
 word. To him Christianity was one form of religion like others, 
 and he attributed greater importance to polytheism on account 
 of its creative and artistic tendencies than to any doctrine of 
 monotheism. Goethe had no objection to Christianity itself, but 
 in his Christian friends he denounced the narrow spirit which 
 would brook no other religions and would condemn as an object 
 of abomination any different attempt at comprehending the 
 divine. The Christian God-conception was to him one aspect 
 only which needed correction by considering the truth of the 
 pagan view, and, argued Goethe, is not the Christian view after 
 all quite abstract and imaginary in comparison to the concrete, 
 figures of the Ol3'mpian pantheon? If God is a spirit, his ex- 
 istence must be purely spiritual, i. e., he must live in the brain 
 of man, 
 
 .... "behind 
 Man's foolish forehead, in his mind." 
 
 This spirit-God would be subjective and could not be found 
 outside in nature, in the concrete world of objective existence. 
 
 This idea is expressed in the poem "Great is Diana of the 
 Ephesians," in which the artist's attitude represents Goethe's 
 own sentiment. The artist chisels his ideal, the great goddess of 
 the Ephesians, while Paul is preaching against idols. 
 
 GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS. 
 (Acts xix. 28.) 
 At Ephesus in his workshop sat 
 
 A goldsmith, filing and beating 
 A golden statue; he wrought thereat, 
 
 Still improving and further completing. 
 As boy and as youth at the goddess's shrine, 
 He had knelt and adored her form so divine; 
 Below the girdle there under her breast, 
 He saw so many creatures rest, 
 And faithfully at home had wrought 
 
 'Selig mitschaffende Krdfte. "Unterhaltung mit Falk," January 25. 1813. 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 209 
 
 The image, as his father taught. 
 
 So did the artist with skill and patience 
 
 Conduct his life and art aspirations. 
 
 11 1^1 m:^':\\<i \\\ 
 
 DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS. 
 And once he heard a raging crowd 
 Howl through the streets, and clamor loud 
 That somewhere existed a God behmd 
 
210 GOETHE. 
 
 Man's foolish forehead in his mind, 
 
 And that He was greater and loftier too, 
 
 Than the breadth and the depth of the gods he knew. 
 
 The artist scarce noted the words of the throng,— 
 
 He let his prentice boy run along, 
 
 But he himself continued to file 
 
 The stags of Diana without guile, 
 
 Hoping that worthily and with grace 
 
 He might succeed to chisel her face. 
 
 Should any one hold a different view, 
 
 He may in all as he pleases do; 
 
 But the craft of the master he must not despise, 
 
 For he in disgrace will end otherwise. 
 
 [Zu Ephesus ein Goldschmied sass 
 
 In seiner Werkstatt, pochte. 
 
 So gut er konnt', ohn' Unterlass, 
 
 So zierlich er's vermochte. 
 
 Als Knab' und Jiingling kniet' er schon 
 
 Im Tempel vor der Gottin Thron, 
 
 Und hatte den Giirtel unter den Briisten, 
 
 Worin so manche Thiere nisten, 
 
 Zu Hause treulich nachgefeilt, 
 
 Wie's ihm der Vater zugetheilt ; 
 
 Und leitete sein kunstreich Streben 
 
 In frommer Wirkung durch das Leben. 
 
 Da hort er denn auf einmal laut 
 Eines Gassenvolkes Windesbraut, 
 Als gab's einen Gott so im Gehirn, 
 Da hinter des Menschen alberner Stirn, 
 Der sei viel herrlicher als das Wesen, 
 An dem wir die Breite der Gottheit lesen. 
 
 Der alte Kiinstler horcht nur auf, 
 
 Lasst seinen Knaben auf den Markt den Lauf, 
 
 Feilt immer fort an Hirschen und Thieren, 
 
 Die seiner Gottheit Kniee zieren; 
 
 Und hofft, es konnte das Gliick ihm walten, 
 
 Ihr Angesicht wiirdig zu gestalten. 
 
 Will's aber Einer anders halten. 
 
 So mag er nach Belieben schalten; 
 
 Nur soil er nicht das Handwerk schanden; 
 
 Sonst wird er schlecht und schmahlich enden.] 
 
 With reference to this poem Goethe writes to Jacobi (March 
 10, 1812) : 
 
 "I am indeed one of the Ephesian artists who spends his 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 211 
 
 whole life in the temple of the goddess, contemplating and won- 
 dering and worshiping, and representing her in her mysterious 
 manifestations. Thus it is impossible for me to be pleased with an 
 apostle who forces upon his fellow citizens another and indeed 
 a formless god. Accordingly if I were to publish some similar 
 writing (to Jacobi's book On God) in praise of the great Ar- 
 temis — which, however, I will not do because I belong to those 
 who prefer to live quietly and do not care to stir people to 
 mutiny — I would write on the reverse of the title page : 'No one 
 can become acquainted with what he does not love, and the 
 more perfect our knowledge, the stronger, the more vigorous, 
 and the more vital must be our love, yea, our passion."^ 
 
 Goethe mentions his love of polytheism in his autobiography 
 when speaking of the poem "Prometheus." He says : 
 
 "The Titans are the foil of polytheism, as the devil is the foil 
 of monotheism, but neither the devil nor the one-sided God 
 whom the devil opposed are striking figures. Milton's Satan, 
 although he is characterized as goody-goody enough,^ labors 
 under the disadvantage of subordination when he attempts to 
 destroy the glorious creation of a supreme being. Prometheus, 
 however, possesses the advantage that, in spite of superior beings, 
 he shows himself capable of creating. Moreover, it is a beautiful 
 and poetic thought which provides that men be produced not by 
 the highest ruler of the universe, but by an intermediate char- 
 acter who, however, being a descendant of the oldest dynasty, 
 is worthy of and great enough for the task." 
 
 Goethe speaks of Satan's "subordination," because in the 
 Christian conception God alone is sovereign, and Satan lacks 
 independence and freedom. He is a mere puppet in the hands 
 of the Almighty, for even his revolt is ultimately the result of 
 God's plan of creation. 
 
 ° Translated by the author. ^ r- ^u < 
 
 A convenient collection of all the passages that have reference to Goethe s 
 world-conception and religion is found in Max Heynachers book, Goethe s 
 Philosophie. For the present quotations see pp. 72-73. 
 
 ' Goethe here uses the word brav, and I regret that the brav genug is 
 almost untranslatable in English. The word brav in German means good 
 7or "goody" in the sense of Sunday-school morality. A good boy is called 
 /brav%nd the use of this word in its application to Satan is extremely 
 humorous. I • J 1 
 
 ^y^- 
 
212 GOETHE. 
 
 Prometheus is not the only rebel whom Goethe admires. He 
 adds further down in the same passage : 
 
 "The other heroes of the same kind, Tantalus, Ixion and 
 Sisyphus, also belonged to my saints. Having been received 
 into the society of the gods, they did not show sufficient sub- 
 missiveness, and as overbearing guests provoked the wrath of 
 their condescending hosts, whereby they were forced into a 
 dreary exile." 
 
 Goethe had much to suffer from the narrow spirit of 
 the dogmatic Christians among his contemporaries, and not the 
 least irritations consisted in ill-advised attempts at converting 
 the "great pagan," as he was called by pietists. He smiled at 
 the impudence and folly of those who concerned themselves 
 about his future destiny, for he was confident that the clOven 
 foot of his paganism would not render him unacceptable to God, 
 the Father of all mankind, Jew and Gentile. Here is the fable 
 which Goethe intended as an answer to his Christian friends : 
 
 In the wilderness a holy man 
 
 To his surprise met a servant of Pan, 
 
 A goat-footed faun, who spoke with grace; 
 
 "Lord pray for me and for my race, 
 
 That we in heaven find a place : 
 
 We thirst for God's eternal bliss." 
 
 The holy man made answer to this : 
 
 "How can I grant thy bold petition, 
 
 For thou canst hardly gain admission 
 
 In heaven yonder where angels salute : 
 
 For lo ! thou hast a cloven foot." 
 
 Undaunted the wild man made the plea : 
 
 "Why should my hoof offensive be? 
 
 I've seen great numbers that went straight 
 
 With asses' heads through heaven's gate." 
 
 «^ 
 
 [In der Wiisten ein heiliger Mann 
 Zu seinem Erstaunen that treffen an 
 Einen ziegenfiissigen Faun, der sprach : 
 "Herr, betet fiir mich und. meine Gefahrt', 
 Dass ich zum Himmel gelassen werd', 
 Zur seligen Freud' : uns diifstet darnach." 
 Der heilige Mann dagegen sprach: 
 "Es steht mit deiner Bitte gar gefahrlich, 
 Und gewahrt wird sie dir schwerlich. 
 Du kommst nicht zum englischen Gruss: 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETH^. 213 
 
 Denn du hast einen Ziegenfuss," 
 Da sprach hierauf der wilde Mann : 
 "Was hat euch mein Ziegenfuss gethan? 
 Sah ich doch Manche strack und schon 
 Mit Eselskopfen gen Himmel gehn."] 
 
 Goethe devoted another short poem to the pious ass who in all 
 rehgions will remain an ass forever. He says:''^ 
 
 If the ass that bore the Saviour 
 Were to Mecca driven, he 
 Would not alter, but vi^ould be 
 Still an ass in his behavior." 
 
 — 7V. by Bowring. 
 
 [Wenn man auch nach Mekka triebe 
 Christus' Esel, wiird' er nicht 
 Dadurch besser abgericht, 
 Sondern stets ein Esel bliebe.] 
 
 Goethe was more of a Christian than is generally assumed 
 or might be inferred from his own preference for paganism. 
 To be sure he was not a dogmatic Christian in the sense in which 
 the term Christianity was used in those days. But Goethe would 
 have been rejected also by polytheists and pagans, by Greek as 
 well as Oriental devotees, on account of his latitudinarianism, 
 for he was a sympathizer with all religions and could not be 
 counted exclusively an adherent of any special faith. 
 
 How greatly Goethe appreciated Christianity appears from 
 many poems and prose passages of his writings. If we consider 
 that as a matter of principle he never wrote poetry unless he him- 
 self had experienced the sentiment he expressed, we will understand 
 how devout he must have been in the days of his youth when he 
 still accepted the Christian miracles and mysteries with unques- 
 tioning faith. He outgrew the childlike confidence in the super- 
 natural and lost his belief in miracles, but he remembered the 
 sacredness of his devotion and the hours of pious bliss — a 
 reminiscence well described in the first scene of his "Faust." 
 When Faust in his despair decides to drink poison, he is inter- 
 rupted by the Easter message of the angelic choirs and the ring- 
 ing of the Easter bells, and the sweet recollection of the faith of 
 his youth restores in him the love of life. 
 
 What deep sentiment is also expressed in the third .scene 
 
 ' Hikmet Nameth, Book of Proverbs. 
 
214 GOETHE. 
 
 of "Faust" ! He has returned from his walk with Wagner, his 
 famulus, and sits down to find comfort in the Gospel of St. 
 John. The monologue is again and again interrupted by the 
 noise of a poodle, in which shape Mephistopheles approaches him. 
 The diaboHc nature of the animal appears in growls by which 
 he expresses his dissatisfaction with Faust's religious sentiments. 
 The passage reads in Bayard Taylor's translation as follows : 
 
 (Faust entering with poodle.) 
 
 Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, 
 I leave in deep, prophetic night, 
 Within whose dread and holy keeping 
 The better soul awakes to light. 
 The wild desires no longer win us, 
 The deeds of passion cease to chain; 
 The love of Man revives within us. 
 The love of God revives again. 
 
 Be still, thou poodle ! make not such racket and riot ! 
 
 Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be ? 
 
 Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! 
 
 My softest cushion I give to thee. 
 
 As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping 
 
 Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest, 
 
 So now I take thee into my keeping, 
 
 A welcome, but also a silent, guest. 
 
 Ah, when, within our narrow chamber 
 The lamp with friendly lustre glows. 
 Flames in the breast each faded ember, 
 And in the heart, itself that knows. 
 Then Hope again lends sweet assistance. 
 And Reason then resumes her speech : 
 One yearns, the rivers of existence. 
 The very founts of Life, to reach. 
 
 Snarl not, poodle ! To the sound that rises, 
 
 The sacred tones that now my soul embrace. 
 
 This bestial noise is out of place. 
 
 We are used to see that Man despises 
 
 What he never comprehends, 
 
 And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, 
 
 Finding them often hard to measure: 
 
 Will the dog, like man, snarl his displeasure ? 
 
 But ah ! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, 
 Contentment flows from, out my breast no longer. 
 Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us. 
 And burning thirst again assail us ? 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 215 
 
 Therein I've borne so much probation! 
 And yet, this want may be supplied us; 
 We pine and thirst for Revelation, 
 
 Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, 
 
 Than here, in our New Testament. 
 
 I feel impelled, its meaning to determine, — 
 
 With honest purpose, once for all. 
 
 The hallowed Original 
 
 To change to my beloved German. 
 
 {He opens a volume and commences.^ 
 
 'T is written : "In the Beginning was the Word." 
 
 Here am I balked : who, now, can help afford ? 
 
 The Word'? — impossible so high to rate it; 
 
 And otherwise must I translate it. 
 
 If by the Spirit I am truly taught. 
 
 Then thus : "In the Beginning was the Thought." 
 
 This first line let me weigh completely. 
 
 Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. 
 
 Is it the Thought which works, creates, indeed? 
 
 "In the Beginning was the Potver" I read. 
 
 Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested. 
 
 That I the sense may not have fairly tested. 
 
 The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! 
 
 "In the Beginning was the Act','^ I write. 
 
 [Verlassen hab' ich Feld und Auen, 
 
 Die eine tiefe Nacht bedeckt, 
 
 Mit ahnungsvollem, heil'gem Grauen 
 
 In uns die bessre Seele weckt. 
 
 Entschlafen sind nun wilde Triebe 
 
 Mit jedem ungestiimen Thun; 
 
 Es reget sich die Menschenliebe, 
 
 Die Liebe Gottes regt sich nun. 
 Sei ruhig, Pudel ! Renne nicht bin und wieder ! 
 An der Schwelle was schnoperst Du hier? 
 Lege Dich hinter den Ofen nieder! 
 Mein bestes Kissen geb' ich Dir. 
 Wie Du draussen auf dem bergigen Wege 
 Durch Rennen und Springen ergetzt uns hast, 
 So nimm nun auch von mir die Pflege 
 Als ein willkommner stiller Gast. 
 
 Ach, wenn in unsrer engen Zelle 
 Die Lampe freundlich wieder brennt, 
 Dann wird's in unserm Busen belle, 
 Im Herzen, das sich selber kennt. 
 Vernunft fangt wieder an zu sprechen 
 Und Hoffnung wieder an zu bliihn ; 
 • Perhaps "Deed" would be a better translation. 
 
216 GOETHE. 
 
 Man sehnt sich nach des Lebens Bachen, 
 Ach, nach des Lebens Quelle hin. 
 
 Knurre nicht, Pudel ! Zu den heiligen Tonen, 
 
 Die jetzt meine ganze Seel' umfassen, 
 
 Will der thierische Laiit nicht passen. 
 
 Wir sind gewohnt, dass die Menschen verhohnen, 
 
 Was sie nicht verstehn, 
 
 Dass sie vor dam Guten und Schonen, 
 
 Das ihnen of beschwerlich ist, murren ; 
 
 Will es der Hund, wie sie, beknurren? 
 
 Aiser ach, schonfiihl' ich.jiei dem besten Willen 
 
 Befriedigung nicht mehr aus dem Busen quillen. 
 
 A'ber warum muss der, Strom so bald versiegen, 
 
 Und wir wieder im Durste liegen? 
 
 Davon hab' ich so viel Erfahrung. 
 
 Doch dieser Mangel lasst sich ersetzen, 
 
 Wir lernen das Ueberirdische schatzen, - 
 
 Wir sehnen uns nach Offenbarung, 
 
 Die nirgends wvird'ger und schoner brennt 
 
 'AIs in dem Neuen Testament. 
 
 Mich drangt's den Grundtext aufzuschlagen, . 
 
 Mit redlichem G^fiihl einmal 
 
 Das heilige Original- 
 
 In mein geliebtes Deutsch zu iibertragen. 
 
 {Er schl'dgt ein Volum auf und schickt sich an.) 
 
 Geschrieben steht : "Im Anfang war das Wort !" 
 
 Hier stock' ichschon! Wer hilft mir weiter fort? 
 
 Ich kann das Wort so hoch unmoglich schatzen; 
 
 Ich muss es anders iibersetzen, 
 
 Wenn ich vom Geiste recht erleuchtet bin. 
 
 Geschrieben steht: "Im Anfang war der Sinn." 
 
 Bedenke wohl die erste Zeile, 
 
 Dass Deine Feder sich nicht iibereile ! 
 
 Ist es der Sinn, der Alles wirkt und schafft? 
 
 Es soUte stehn ; "Im Anfang war die Kraft !" 
 
 Doch, audi indem ich dieses niederschreibe, 
 
 Schon warnt mich was, dass ich dabei nicht bleibe. 
 
 Mir hilft der Geist ! Auf einmal seh' ich Rath 
 
 Und schreibe getrost: "Im Anfang war die ThatV] 
 
 In addition to this scene which incorporates Faust's reminis- 
 censes of his former faith, we will quote a few poems and sen- 
 tences from his rhymed proverbs, which characterize Goethe's 
 Christianity in his mature years. Here is Longfellow's transla- 
 tion of Goethe's two songs, each entitled "The Wanderer's Night 
 Song." 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 217 
 
 Thou that from the heavens art, 
 Every pain and sorrow stillest, 
 
 And the doubly wretched heart 
 Doubly with refreshment fillest, 
 
 I am weary with contending! 
 Why this rapture and unrest? 
 
 Peace descending 
 
 Come, ah, come into my breast! 
 
 [Der du von dem Himmel bist, 
 Alles Leid und Schmerzen stillest, 
 Den, der doppelt elend ist, 
 Doppelt rait Erquickung fullest, 
 Ach, ich bin des Treibens miide! 
 Was soil all der Schmerz und Lust? 
 Siisser Friede, 
 Komm, ach komra in meine Brust!] 
 
 
 
 /^^4n> \L \\ 
 
 GOETHE'S POEM IN THE HUNTER'S HUT. 
 
 O'er all the hill-tops 
 
 Is quiet now. 
 In all the tree-tops 
 
 Hearest thou 
 Hardly a breath ; 
 
 The birds are asleep in the trees : 
 
 Wait : soon like these 
 Thou, too, shalt rest. 
 
 [Ueber alien Gipfeln 
 
 Ist Ruh, 
 
 In alien Wipfeln 
 
 Spiirest du 
 
 Kaum einen Hauch; 
 
 Die Vogelein schweigen im Walde. 
 
 Warte nur, balde 
 
 Ruhest du auch.] 
 
 The second of these songs Goethe composed in the night of 
 September 6-7, 1780, and wrote on the wall of the little wooden 
 hut on the peak of the Gickelhahn near Ilmenau. The hand- 
 writing was renewed by himself August 27, 1813. The hut 
 burned down August 11, 1870. 
 
 This song of the Gickelhahn hut is familiar to. all lovers of 
 
218 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 music. Various English translations have been made, though 
 Longfellow's is perhaps the most familiar. In its sweet sim- 
 plicity the song is almost untranslatable. We add herewith 
 
 GOETHE ON THE GICKELHAHN. 
 
 another attempt which has the advantage of fitting the music 
 of Schubert: 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 219 
 
 Over all the mountains 
 
 Lies peace. 
 Hushed are the tree-tops ; 
 
 Breezes cease 
 
 Slumber caressed. 
 Asleep are the birds on the bough,- 
 Wait then, and thou 
 
 Soon too wilt rest. 
 
 THE HUNTER'S HUT ON THE GICKELHAHN NEAR ILMENAU. 
 After a photograph. 
 
 Under the title "God, Sentiment and the World"'' Goethe 
 published some rhymes which breathe a simple and ahnost child- 
 like confidence in God. One of them reads i^" 
 
 ' Gott, Gemiith und Welt. 
 " Bowring's translation, 
 
 "Who trusts in God, 
 Fears not his rod," 
 is perhaps better English, but does, not render the original. 
 
220 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Who on God is grounded, 
 Has his house well founded. 
 
 [Wer Gott vertraut, 
 1st schon auferbaut.] 
 
 Anothei- rhyme is translated by Bowring thus : 
 
 This truth may be by all believed ! 
 Whom God deceives, is well deceived. 
 
 [Sogar dies Wort hat nicht gelogen: 
 Wen Gott betriigt, der ist wohl be- 
 trogen.] 
 
 Goethe was one of the few poets who dared to iritroduce the 
 Good Lord upon the stage, which he did in the Prologue to 
 "Faust." This remarkable scene reveals before our eyes the 
 heavens where God is enthroned among the angels that appear 
 before him in praise of his creation. There has scarcely been in 
 Christian literature a more dignified description of God in poet- 
 ical form, over which even Milton can not claim superiority. 
 
 The Lord is greeted by the three archangels in these three 
 stanzas which we quote after Bayard Taylor's translation : 
 
 RAPHAEL. 
 
 The sun-orb sings, in emulation, 
 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient 
 
 round : 
 His path predestined through Creation 
 He ends with step of thunder-sound. 
 The angels from his visage splendid 
 Draw power, whose measure none can 
 
 say; 
 The lofty works, uncomprehended. 
 Are bright as on the primal day. 
 
 GABRIEL. 
 
 And swift, and swift beyond conceiv- 
 ing. 
 The splendor of the world goes round. 
 Day's Eden-brightness still relieving 
 Night's darkness awful and profound : 
 The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, 
 Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, 
 And both, the spheric race partaking. 
 Eternal, swift, are onward whirled ! 
 
 MICHAEL. 
 
 And rival storms abroad are surging 
 From sea to land, from land to sea. 
 
 [Die Sonne font nach alter Weise 
 In Bruderspharen Weetfgesang, 
 Und ihre vorgeschriebne Reise 
 VoUendet sie mit Donnergang. 
 Ihr Anblick giebt den Engeln Starke, 
 Wenn Keiner sie ergriinden mag; 
 Die unbegreiflich hohen Werke 
 Sind herrlich wie am ersten Tag. 
 
 GABRIEL. 
 
 Und schnell und unbegreiflich schnelle 
 Dreht sich umher der Erde Pracht; 
 Es wechselt Paradieseshelle 
 Mit tiefer, schauervoller Nacht; 
 Es schaumt das Meer in breiten 
 
 Fliissen 
 Am tiefen Grund der Felsen auf, 
 Und Pels und Meer wird fortgerissen 
 In ewig schnellem Spharenlauf. 
 
 MICHAEL. 
 
 Und Stiirme brausen um die Wette, 
 Vom Meer aufs Land, vom Land aufs 
 Meer, 
 
THE RELIGION OF GOETHE. 
 
 221 
 
 A chain of deepest action forging 
 Round all, in wrathful energy. 
 There flames a desolation, blazing 
 Before the Thunder's crashing way : 
 Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are prais- 
 ing 
 The gentle movement of Thy Day. 
 
 THE THREE. 
 
 Though still by them uncomprehended. 
 From these the angels draw their 
 
 power. 
 And all Thy works are grand and 
 
 splendid, 
 As in Creation's primal hour. 
 
 Und bilden wiithend eine Kette 
 Der tiefsten Wirkung rings umber; 
 Da flanimt ein blitzendes Verheeren 
 Dem Pfade vor des Donnerschlags ; 
 Doch Deine Boten, Herr, verehren 
 Das sanfte Wandeln Deines Tags. 
 
 Der Anblick giebt den Engeln Starke, 
 Da Keiner Dich ergriinden mag, 
 Und alle Deine hohen Werke 
 Sind herrlich wie am ersten Tag.] 
 
 Bayard Taylor is a translator by God's grace, nevertheless 
 his version of these lines does not render either the depth of 
 sentiment nor the beauty of the German original. Goethe's lan- 
 guage is inimitable in its directness, its simplicity and grandeur. 
 Only a man of truly religious temperament could think these 
 thoughts and express them in words so magnificent and yet so 
 simple and unassuming. 
 
GOETHE'S PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 GOETHE was not a philosopher, still less a psychologist, 
 but none the less was he a thinker. First he was a poet, 
 and though his poetry was philosophical, he cared little for phi- 
 losophy and had a positive dislike for analytical and critical in- 
 vestigations. So it happened that in spite of the philosophical 
 trend of Goethe's poetry, we find no satisfactory explanation of 
 his thoughts, and this we feel most concerning his notions of 
 the deity and man's soul. Goethe clung to the conclusions 
 which were forced upon him by the needs of his heart and in- 
 tellect, but he did not venture into dialectics. Thus he was at 
 once a pagan and a Christian, an infidel and a believer. Being 
 strong in his convictions himself he had an intense dislike of 
 all negativism, and while he attacked Christian pietists for their 
 antagonism to Greek mythology, he defended the Christian 
 Gospels against higher criticism. All this seems contradictory, 
 but it is not, and he who is familiar with Goethe's way of 
 thinking will understand that in all this he is perfectly consistent 
 with himself. 
 
 Goethe loved to represent his own views in contrasts, taking 
 up first one standpoint and meeting it by its contrary so as to 
 avoid a one-sided partisan conception. The poet might truly 
 have applied Faust's words to himself, "Two souls, alas! dwell 
 in my breast." How clearly Goethe was conscious of this con- 
 trast within his own nature appears from a later poem addressed 
 to the two-lobed leaf of an Oriental tree called Gingo Biloba,^ 
 which he had planted in his garden at Weimar. Goethe says : 
 
 'According to botanists tlie gingo tree belongs to an antediluvian flora. 
 (See Dr. H. Potonies statement in Weltall und Menschheit, II, 396). Being 
 one of the few plants that have been saved from extinction by some good / 
 fortune, it is raised in China and Japan by artificial methods only and is no I 
 
goeti-ie's philosophy. 
 
 223 
 
 Leaf of Eastern tree transplanted 
 Here into my garden's field, 
 Hast me secret meaning granted, 
 Which adepts delight will yield. 
 
 Art thou one — one living being 
 Now divided into two? 
 Art thou two, who joined agreeing 
 And in one united grew? 
 
 To the question, pondered duly, 
 Have I found the right reply: 
 In my poems you see truly 
 Twofold and yet one am I. 
 
 [Dieses Baums Blatt, der von Osten 
 Meinem Garten anvertraut, 
 Giebt geheimen Sinn zu kosten, 
 Wie's den Wissenden erbaut. 
 
 1st es Ein lebendig Wesen, 
 Das sich in sich selbst getrennt? 
 Sind es zwei, die sich erlesen, 
 Dass man sie als Eines kennt? 
 
 Solche Fragc zu ervvidern, 
 Fand ich wohl den rechten Sinn; 
 Fiihlst du nicht an meinen Liedern, 
 Dass ich eins und doppclt bin?] 
 
 LEAF FROM GOETHE'S GINGO Ti 
 Reproduced from a pressed leaf sent loth^t^r- \ j,^ a souvenT 
 Weimar by Professor Hatfiel(^^^^oithwestern University. 
 
 On this idea of a splitting up, which however is not ^ 
 division, we quote another of Goethe's poems : 
 
 Life I never can divide. 
 Inner and outer together you see. 
 Whole to all I must abide, 
 Otherwise I cannot be. 
 Always I have only writ 
 What I feel and mean to say. 
 Thus, my friends, although I split. 
 Yet remain I one alway. 
 
 [Theilen kann ich nicht das Leben, 
 Nicht das Innen noch das Aussen. 
 Allen muss das Ganze geben, 
 Um mit euch und fnir zu hausen. 
 Immer hab ich nur geschrieben 
 Wie ich fiihle, wie ich's raeine, 
 Und so .spalt ich mich, ihr Lieben, 
 Und bin immerfort der Eine.] 
 
 Goethe had a dishke for abstract considerations. He was 
 
 longer found in its natural state. In Japan the gingo is regarded as a sacred 
 tree, which explains its presence in the temples. 
 
224 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 too much of a poet and liked to think even spiritual truths in 
 such a way as to let them assume a definite and concrete shape. 
 He was too human not to prefer the sense-perceptible image 
 which is palpable, to the formula which is general and devoid 
 of all tangible elements, and so if certain views became too 
 abstract for him he clothed them in poetical allegories. 
 
 Goethe sketches his view of the soul in a fascinating poem, 
 in which the explanation of its ascent to heaven and its descent 
 to earth, in the sense of reincarnation, have to be taken seriously. 
 It is entitled "Song of the Spirits Over the Waters," and reads 
 as follows : 
 
 The soul of man 
 
 Is like unto water : 
 
 From heaven it cometh, 
 
 To heaven it riseth, 
 
 Arid down again 
 
 To the earth descendeth, 
 
 Ever changing. 
 
 Streams from the lofty 
 
 Rocky wall 
 
 Its crystal flood 
 
 As spray it drifts, 
 
 In wavy clouds 
 
 Round slippery cliffs, 
 
 Below met sprightly, 
 
 And veiling its course, 
 
 With low murmur it rusheth 
 
 Deeper and deeper. 
 
 Where frowning rocks 
 Impede the torrent. 
 Indignant it foams 
 From ledge to ledge, 
 Into the gorge. 
 
 In level meadow 
 The brook meanders. 
 And in the spreading lake 
 Mirror their faces 
 The heavenly stars. 
 
 Wind pleads with the waves 
 In passionate wooing; 
 Wind stirs from the bottom 
 The foam-covered billows. 
 
 [Des Menschen Seele 
 Gleicht dem Wasser: 
 Vom Himmel kommt es, 
 Zum Himmel steigt es, 
 Und wieder nieder 
 Zur Erde muss es, 
 Ewig wechselnd. 
 
 Stromt von der hohen 
 Steilen Felswand 
 Der reine Strahl, 
 Dann staubt er lieblich 
 In Wolkenwellen 
 Zum glatten Fels, 
 Und leicht empfangen 
 Walk er verschleiernd, 
 Leisrauschend 
 Zur Tiefe nieder. 
 
 Ragen Klippen 
 Dem Sturz' entgegen, 
 Schaumt er unmuthig 
 Stufenweise 
 Zum Abgrund. 
 
 Im flachen Bette 
 
 Schleicht er das Wiesenthal hin, 
 
 Und in dem glatten See 
 
 Weiden ihr Antlitz 
 
 Alle Gestirne. 
 
 Wind ist der Welle 
 Lieblicher Buhler ; 
 Wind mischt vom Grund aus 
 Schaumende Wogen. 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 225 
 
 Soul of man, Seele des Menschen, 
 
 How like unto water ! Wie gleichst du dem Wasser ! 
 
 Fortune of man, Schicksal des Menshen, 
 
 How like unto wind ! Wie gleichst du dem Wind !] 
 
 Judging from Goethe's lines in "The Limitations of Human- 
 ity,"2 
 
 "We rise with a billow, 
 Collapse with a billow. 
 And we are gone." 
 
 we might be led to think that the poet did not believe in immor- 
 tality, but such was not the case. He denied immortality in 
 a Utopian heaven, as an imaginary state of bliss where every- 
 thing would be perfect, where battles were no longer to be fought, 
 tasks no more to be done, dangers not to be encountered, and no 
 suffering to be endured. He believed in activity, in doing and 
 daring. He was a Sadducee (denying the resurrection of the 
 dead, i. e., a resurrection of the body from the grave) in contrast 
 to the Pharisee; and scorned the notion of an immortality in a 
 purely spiritual beyond. Goethe says : 
 
 A Sadducee I'll be fore'er. 
 
 For it would drive me to despair, 
 
 If the Philistines who now cramp me 
 
 Would cripple my eternity. 
 
 'Twould be the same old fiddle-faddle, 
 
 In heaven we'd have celestial twaddle. 
 
 [Ein Sadducaer will ich bleiben !— 
 Das konnte mich zur Verzweiflung treiben, 
 Dass von dem Volk, das hier mich bedrangt, 
 Auch wiirde die Ewigkeit eingeengt: 
 Das war doch nur der alte Patsch, 
 Droben gab's nur verklarten Klatsch.] 
 
 But in spite of siding with the Sadducee in questions of 
 resurrection, Goethe cherishes the conviction that the soul is 
 immortal, and he insists on it again and again. We do not pos- 
 sess immortality, but we must earn it. As Christ expresses it, 
 we must lay up treasures which neither moth nor rust doth 
 
 ' See page 206. 
 
226 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 corrupt and where thieves do not break through or steal. We 
 are tradition and we live on as tradition. Our own immortali- 
 zation is the purpose of our life. Goethe says : 
 
 Drop all of transiency 
 Whate'er be its claim, 
 Ourselves to immortalize, 
 That is our aim. 
 
 [Nichts vom Verganglichen, 
 Wie's auch geschah! 
 Uns zu verewigen 
 Sind wir ja da.] 
 
 The same idea is expressed in another poem called "An 
 Interlude" which was set to music by J. N. Hummel thus : 
 
 Largfaetto. 
 
 ^■^'jij' i ffSlt?^^ ^ 
 
 1. LaBtfah-ren bin das All-zu-fluch-ti-ge; ihrsuchtbei 
 
 2. Undso ge-winntsich das Le-ben-di-gedurchFolg'aus 
 
 3. Solostsich je- ne gro-Be Fra - ge nachunserm 
 
 erett, ^ »■ / 1 
 
 i^ 
 
 fFfff 
 
 1. ihmver-ge-bensRat! In demVer-gang - nenlebtdas; 
 
 2. Fol-ge neu-e Kraft;denndieGe - sin - nung,die be- 
 
 3. zweiten Va-ter- land ;denn das Be-stan-digederird'schen 
 
 
 t t f 
 
 1. Tiich-ti - ge, ver - e - wigt sich in scho-ner 
 
 2. Stan - di - ge, sie macht den Men - schen dau - er- 
 
 3. Ta - ge, ver- biirgt uns e - wi - gen Be 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 ^S 
 
 ^^ 
 
 i^n ^ \\-\ H ^ 
 
 1. Tat, ver - e - wigt sich in 
 
 2. haft, sie macht den Men-schen 
 
 3. stand, ver- biirgt uns e - wi 
 
 scho-ner Tat. 
 dau - er - haft, 
 gen Be -stand. 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 227 
 
 This poem, which belongs to Goethe's masonic verses, was 
 sung as a quartette in the Lodge AmaHa at Weimar, September 
 3, 1825. We have taken the song from Wernekke's book on 
 "Goethe and the Royal Art."^ Translated into English it reads 
 as follows : 
 
 Oh drop the transient, drop it from our lives ! 
 
 Thence help is never realized. 
 In past events the valiant good survives, 
 
 In noble deeds immortalized. 
 
 And life acquires its vitality. 
 
 Throughout causation's endless chain. 
 For character gives man stability. 
 
 Endeavor makes that he remain. 
 
 Thus the great question of our future home 
 
 At last is for solution rife: 
 For the enduring while on earth we roam, 
 
 Assureth us eternal life. 
 
 The Egyptian method of building pyramids and of immor- 
 talizing the bodies of the dead by embalming and mummifying, 
 is erroneous; rather let the tradition of which we consist and 
 which we impart to others be of the right kind. The greatest 
 treasures we can give to others are ourselves, our souls, the 
 truths which we have discovered, our hopes, our loves, our ideals. 
 Goethe says in one of his most vigorous poems : 
 
 It matters not, I ween, [Und wo die Freunde f^ulen. 
 
 Where worms our friends consume, Das ist ganz einerlei. 
 
 Beneath the turf so green, Ob unter Marmor-Saulen 
 
 Or 'neath the marble tomb. Oder im Rasen frei. 
 
 Remember ye who live, Der Lebende bedenke, 
 
 Though frowns the fleeting day, Wenn audi der Tag ihm mault, 
 
 That to your friends you give Dass er den Freunden schenke 
 
 What never will decay. Was nie und nimmer fault.] 
 — Tr. by Edgar Alfred Bowring. 
 
 Goethe's notion of immortality was closely connected with 
 his conception of evolution. Pie believed in growth and higher 
 
 ' Goethe und die konigliche Kunst. Von Dr. Hugo Wernekke, vormals 
 Meister vom Stuhl der Loge Amalia in Weimar. Leipsic, 1905. 
 
228 GOETHE. 
 
 development, or what to-day we call "evolution." Immortality 
 according to his idea depended on ourselves, and he regarded the 
 human soul as an organic center which he sometimes called with 
 Leibnitz "mOnad" and sometimes with Aristotle "entelechy." 
 Goethe says in a letter to Knebel of December 3, 1781 : 
 "It is an article of my faith that only through fortitude and 
 faithfulness in our present condition can we rise to a higher 
 plane of being in our next existence and thus become capable of 
 entering upon it from this temporal existence of ours to the 
 beyond in eternity." 
 
 The present life, at any rate this world, not a beyond, de- 
 mands our complete attention. Says Goethe in the second part 
 of "Faust": 
 
 The sphere of earth is known enough to me ; 
 The view beyond is barred immutably: 
 A fool, who there his blinking eyes directeth, 
 Above the clouds a place of peers detecteth ! 
 Firm let him stand, and look around him well ! 
 This world means something to the capable. 
 Why needs he through eternity to wend? 
 He here acquire^ what he can apprehend. 
 
 [Der Erdenkreis ist mir genug bekannt. 
 Nach driiben ist die Aussicht uns verrannt; 
 Thor, wer dorthin- die Augen blinzend richtet, 
 Sich iiber Wolken Seinesgleichen dichtet! 
 Er stehe fest und sehe hier sich um; 
 Dem Tuchtigen ist diese Welt nicht stumm. 
 Was braucht er in die Ewigkeit zu schweifen! 
 Was er erkennt, lasst sich ergreifen.] 
 
 This passage proves that when Goethe speaks of "the be- 
 yond," he means beyond the grave, but still in this actual world 
 of ours ; when he speaks of "eternity" he means the infinite vista 
 of higher life before us, or perhaps the condition of timelessness, 
 but not a heaven with angelic choirs. 
 
 Even our immortalized existence is and will remain a constant 
 struggle. Says Faust: 
 
 Yes! to this thought I hold with firm persistence; 
 The last result of wisdom stamps it true; 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 229 
 
 He only earns his freedom and existence, 
 
 Who daily conquers them anew. 
 Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing: 
 
 "Ah, still delay— thou art so fair!" 
 The traces cannot, of mine earthly being, 
 
 In eons perish, — they are there ! 
 
 — Translated by Bayard Taylor. 
 
 [Ja ! diesem Sinne bin ich ganz ergeben, 
 
 Das ist der Weisheit letzter Schluss: 
 
 Nur der verdient sich Freiheit wie das Leben, 
 
 Der taglich sie erobern muss. 
 
 Zum Augenblicke diirft ich sagen: 
 
 Verweile doch, du bist so schon ! 
 
 Es kann die Spur von meinen Erdentagen 
 
 Nicht in Aeonen untergehn.] 
 
 Goethe's view of immortality was not that of the orthodox 
 Christian. It was much more kin to Oriental philosophy, and 
 in spite of his conception of the soul as a monad or entelechy 
 after the fashion of the Brahman atman, his belief in immor- 
 tality in all practical considerations bore a close resemblance to 
 Buddhist doctrines.* This is the more remarkable as in Goethe's 
 time only distant echoes, of the wisdom of the East had reached 
 Europe. But these echoes were sufficient for Goethe to say in 
 a letter to the artist Meyer, dated August 24, 1823: "When one 
 comes upon the Orientals one finds remarkable things." (Man 
 komme iiber die Oricntalcn, da findct man erstaunliche D'mge.) 
 But with all his fondness for Orientalism Goethe was neither a 
 mystic nor an admirer of romanticism. He was first of all a 
 lover of clear and well-defined thought, and if he belonged to 
 any special type, he was a Greek, — but he was a Greek because 
 the true Greek was cosmopolitan and the genius of Greek an- 
 tiquity was identical with humanitarianism. Or, in other words, 
 Goethe was convinced that humanitarianism had found its purest 
 expression in the civilization and religion of ancient Greece. 
 
 The main tenets of immortality, and even of reincarnation, 
 are repeatedly expressed in Goethe's own writings and in his 
 
 *The subject has been treated in an article "Brahmanism and Buddhism, 
 or the Religion of Postulates and the Religion of Facts" in The Open Court, 
 Vol. X, p. 4851 ff. For further discussions on the soul see "The Soul in 
 Science and Religion," Monist, XVI, 219-253; "Life and the Soul," Monist, 
 XVIII, 192-216; "Panpsychism and Panbiotism," Monist, III, 234-257. 
 
230 GOETHE. 
 
 letters. In his writings Goethe abstained from committing him- 
 self to the belief in a soul-entity, and his views are stated in 
 such general terms that they might suit either the Buddhists 
 or the Vedantists, but in his conversations he went further, 
 taking decidedly the Brahman view, and we will here present 
 those additional expressions of his thought which he mentions 
 privately to Eckermann and Falk. 
 
 Goethe said to Eckermann on September 1, 1829: 
 
 "I do not doubt our continuance, for nature can not do 
 without continuity; but we are not all immortal in the same 
 way, and in order to manifest himself as a great entelechy, a 
 man must first be one." 
 
 Here Goethe falls back upon a technical term of Aristotle 
 denoting that something which makes things actual. The word 
 "entelechy" means the quality of having become complete, of 
 being perfected, or having attained its purpose,^ and is used 
 in contrast to "dynamics,"^ i. e., potential existence, which is 
 the idea of a thing, its possibility, its mere potentiality. Ac- 
 cordingly, entelechy denotes that principle or factor which ren- 
 ders things actual. 
 
 The idea of an entelechy as a separate being is decidedly 
 metaphysical and, if taken seriously, would lead to dualism. 
 There is not reality, and a principle that makes reality real. 
 There is not motion, and an agent of motion, a being that makes 
 motion move. There is not actuality, and a thing that makes 
 actuality act. The actuality of things i and also of living beings 
 is their existence itself, and living beings (i. e., organisms) 
 originate in a slow process of evolution by a combination of their 
 parts, or as we would better call it, by organization. We may 
 regard them as actualizations of eternal types, but in that case 
 we can only mean their potential existence, which is the possi- 
 bility of their special combinations, in the same sense as mathe- 
 matical truths are eternal and exist even before any mathema- 
 tician has discovered and actualized them. 
 
 = ecTeXe'xeio is derived from ei-reX^s, "perfect," and ^x"", "to have." The 
 adjective ei-reXiis means also "powerful, mighty, commanding" ; and the verb 
 evTiWeiv, from which it is derived, "to enjoin, to command." The root of the 
 latter is the same as that of the noun reXos, "end, purpose." 
 
 ' Sivafiis, "potentiality." 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 231 
 
 Goethe apparently takes the word in the sense of an entity. 
 On March 2, 1830, we find the term "entelechy" mentioned 
 again in another slightly different connection. There he is re- 
 ported as having said : 
 
 "The persistence of the individual and the fact that man 
 rejects what do^s not agree with him, are proofs to me that such 
 a thing as an entelechy exists. Leibnitz cherished similar ideas 
 concerning such independent entities, except that what we call 
 'entelechy' he called 'monad.' " 
 
 Ahnost seventeen years prior to these conversations with 
 Eckermann Goethe used the term "monad" in a talk with Falk 
 who accompanied him on his return from the funeral of Wie- 
 land. With reference to the impossibility that Wieland's soul 
 could have been annihiliated, Goethe said: 
 
 "There can be no thought of an annihilation in nature of 
 such high psychic powers, nor under any conditions, for she is 
 not wasteful of her capital. Wieland's soul is by nature a treas- 
 ure, a real gem. Moreover, during the whole of his long life 
 he did not use up these spiritual and beautiful talents, but in- 
 creased them .... 
 
 "A personal continuance of our soul after death by no means 
 conflicts with the observations which I have made for many years 
 concerning the constitution of our own being and all existences in 
 nature. On the contrary, it seems to be an outcome of them 
 and finds in them new confirmation. 
 
 "How much or how little of a personality deserves to be 
 preserved, is another question, and an affair which we must leave 
 to God. At present I will only say this : I assume different 
 classes and degrees of ultimate aboriginal elements of all beings 
 which are, as it were, the initial points of all phenomena in 
 nature. I might call them souls because from them the anima- 
 tion of the whole proceeds. Perhaps I had better call them 
 monads. Let me retain this term of Leibnitz, because it ex- 
 presses the simplicity of these simplest beings and there might 
 be no better name. Some of these monads or initial points, 
 experience teaches, are so small and so insignificant that they 
 are fit only for a subordinate service and existence. Others how- 
 ever are quite strong and powerful ■ • . . 
 
232 GOETHE. 
 
 "All monads are by nature so indestructible that they can 
 not stop or lose their activity at the moment of dissolution, but 
 must continue it in the very same moment. Thus they only part 
 from their old relations in order to enter at once into new ones. 
 In this change all depends on the power of intention which re- 
 sides in this or that monad. 
 
 "Each monad proceeds to whithersoever it belongs, into the 
 water, into the air, into the earth, into the fire, into the stars, 
 yea the secret tendency which conducts it thither, contains at 
 the same time the secret of its future destiny. Any thought of 
 annihilation is quite excluded .... 
 
 "Should we venture on supposition, I really do not under- 
 stand what could prevent the monad to which we owe the ap- 
 pearance of Wieland on our planet to enter in its new state of 
 existence into the highest combination of this universe. By its 
 diligence, its zeal, its genius, through which it has incorporated 
 into its own existence so many historical states, it is entitled to 
 anything. I should not be astonished at all should I, after mil- 
 lenniums, meet Wieland again as a star of the first magnitude. 
 Then I should see him and bear witness how he with his dear 
 light would gladden and quicken everything that would come 
 near him. 
 
 "To bring light and clearness into the nebular existence of 
 some comet should be deemed a joyous task for a monad such as 
 the one of our Wieland ! Considering the eternity of this uni- 
 verse of ours, no other duty, generally speaking, can be assumed 
 for monads than that they in their turn should partake of the 
 joys of the gods as blessed creative powers. They are conver- 
 sant with the becoming of creation. Whether called or uncalled, 
 they come by themselves from all sides, on all paths, from the 
 mountains, from the oceans, from the stars. Who can prevent 
 them? 
 
 "I am sure that I, such as you see me here, have lived a 
 thousand times, and hope to come again another thousand times." 
 
 There is a great lack of lucidity in these sentences. On the 
 one hand the monads are the simplest realities, a kind of atoms, 
 which belong to fire, water, earth, and other elementary exis- 
 tences; on the other hand, they are distinct agencies, and are 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 233 
 
 introduced to personify the law that sways the formation of a 
 nebula into a planetary system; and again they are assumed to 
 be psychic entities. Perhaps some monads are thought to be 
 chemical atoms and others psychic powers; and the latter, after 
 the fashion of the Greek deities, are expected to do the work 
 of the natural laws. Such thoughts are poetry, not science; 
 fiction, not psychological facts; mythology, not philosophy. 
 
 The soul is a unity but its unity is due to unification. The 
 unity of the soul is not rigid; it is not a monad, not an entity 
 of any substance nor a center of forces, but it is the unity of 
 system such as we observe in organisms. The soul is built up 
 not unlike a well-governed state, into a centralized common- 
 wealth of sentiments and impulses, sensations, yearnings, more 
 or less checked by different considerations, called self-control. 
 Ideas, volitions and aspirations, and the whole of this spiritual 
 organism constitute a definite personality which is called the 
 self, or the ego. There is no need of assuming the existence of 
 a nucleus around which all these psychical activities cluster; the 
 system itself is its unity and this system is the product of the 
 dominating purpose which animates all actions and their aims. 
 
 If we knew Goethe from this passage on the soul-monad 
 alone we would say that he was a mystic. We grant that he 
 had a mystic vein whenever he spoke of the soul, but even 
 here he disliked the excrescences of mysticism. He avoided 
 having anything to do with clairvoyance and other pathological 
 or semi-pathological phenomena. He not only disliked to delve 
 into inquisitions of mysterious events, but even to analyze psycho- 
 logical problems irj abstract speculations. Thus his views re- 
 mained hazy and indistinct. He accepted immortality as a fact, 
 not because it could be proved, — in fact he thought it could not 
 be proved, — but because he could not dispense with an infinite 
 outlook into the past as well as the future. 
 
 Goethe's conversation with Falk is perhaps the most impor- 
 tant passage to be quoted on the mooted topic. It may be well to 
 bear in mind that it was Falk and not Goethe who wrote these 
 sentences, and that they therefore must be used with discretion. 
 Nevertheless we can not doubt that Goethe held similar views, 
 and that he believed in the existence of monads or entelechies. 
 
234 GOETHE. 
 
 Yea the expression was so dear to him that in his first conception 
 of the conclusion of "Faust" he used the word entelechy when 
 saying that Faust's soul was carried up to heaven by angels. 
 In the printed editions he replaced it by the term "Faust's Im- 
 mortal." 
 
 Eckermann has recorded several of Goethe's remarks which 
 corroborate the impression that he held these notions. For in- 
 stance under March 11, 1828, we find the following comment 
 of Goethe's : 
 
 "Each entelechy is a piece of eternity, and those few years 
 during which it is joined to its terrestrial body do not make it 
 old." 
 
 In a conversation with his friends, Chancellor von Mueller 
 and Herrn von Riemer, October 19, 1823, Goethe declared that 
 it would be quite impossible for a thinking being to entertain 
 the idea of his own non-existence or the discontinuance of his 
 thought and life. Accordingly every one carried a proof of his 
 own immortality directly within himself, but as soon as he tried 
 to commit himself to objective statements, as soon as he would 
 venture to come out with it, as soon as he wanted to prove dog- 
 matically or comprehend a personal continuance, as soon as he 
 would bolster up this inner observation in a commonplace way, 
 he would lose himself in contradictions. 
 
 In his "Prose Sayings" (1028-1029), Goethe says: 
 
 "The highest we have received from God and Nature is life, 
 viz., the rotating motion of the monad around itself,; which 
 knows no rest nor ceasing. The tendency to preserve and cherish 
 life is naturally and indelibly inborn in every one, but its nature 
 remains a mystery to us as well as to others. The second favor 
 which comes from the Supreme Being is what we call experience 
 in life, our becoming aware of things, and the influences which 
 the living and moving monad exerts upon the surroundings of 
 the outer world. Thereby the monad feels itself as infinite within 
 and limited without." 
 
 In a conversation with Chancellor von Miiller, February 25, 
 1824, Goethe expressed his reluctance to investigate the question 
 of Hfe after death: 
 
 "To be engrossed with ideas of immortality is only for the 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 
 
 235 
 
 leisure classes, and especially for women who have nothing to 
 do. A capable man who needs to make himself useful here, and 
 who accordingly has to exert himself daily, to struggle and to 
 
 FRIEDRICH WILHELM RIEMER. 
 
 work, leaves the future world alone and is active and useful in 
 this one." 
 
 Considering all these quotations it is certain that Goethe as- 
 sumed the existence of a soul-entity, an entelechy or monad. 
 
236 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 which in his opinion was necessary for comprehending the nature 
 of the soul and its immortahty, and the latter was not the tra- 
 ditional Christian, but an Oriental belief, i. e., a reincarnation or 
 
 FRIEDRICH VON MUELLER, 1797-1849. 
 Drawing by Schmeller. 
 
 metempsychosis of some kind. He speaks repeatedly of his 
 former existences ; so for instance in a poem addressed to Frau 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 237 
 
 von Stein, he declares that in the sympathy which binds their 
 souls, he feels that in "by-gone ages she must have been either 
 his sister or his wife."'^ 
 
 When he traveled in Italy Goethe declared that he must 
 have lived there, and he went so far as to state that it must have 
 been in the days of the Emperor Hadrian. He wrote on October 
 12, 1786 from Venice: "Indeed I feel even now as if I were not 
 seeing things here for the first time, but as if I had seen them be- 
 fore." Goethe sympathized with the cosmopolitan spirit of Empe- 
 ror Hadrian. The personality of Hadrian, his ideals and actions, 
 were congenial to Goethe, and so the sight of the monuments, 
 being associated with ideals dear to the German poet, found an 
 echo in his heart. There was something kin in Goethe's soul, and 
 so it is natural that everything in Italy seemed familiar to him. 
 He therefore concludes : "I must have been here before; I must 
 have lived in those days, for I have seen all this before." 
 
 We believe that there is a truth at the bottom of this idea, 
 for Goethe's soul is composed of all the aspirations that entered 
 into the rich fabric of ideas which made up his personality. We 
 do not originate at the hour of birth, nor in the moment of con- 
 ception. All of us, all human beings, were present when primi- 
 tive man in the circle of his family and fellows felt the need of 
 communicating" his thoughts, when he uttered the first and still 
 imperfectly articulated words. We were present in the minds of 
 the prehistoric inventors of tools, of the wheel, of the needle, 
 etc. We have lived with our ancestors and the sages of yore' 
 exactly to the extent that their aspirations, their work, their ac- 
 complishments are preserved in us and continue to be part of our 
 souls. 
 
 Goethe's view of the soul as a monad, a unit, a certain some- 
 thing which migrates from one personality to another and is 
 reincarnated again and again, is untenable from the scientific 
 conception of things spiritual, because spiritual things are not 
 entities. They are not substantial, and they can never be monads. 
 If the soul is not a substantial entity that originates ; if it is form 
 and not matter or energy, its continuance can not depend upon 
 
 ' Ach, du warst, in abgelegten Zeiten, 
 
 Meine Schwester oder meine Frau. 
 
238 GOETHE. 
 
 the identity of a substance of any kind but must be a preserva- 
 tion of form. This in fact is the real state of things, for a 
 preservation of form actually takes place in our bodily constitu- 
 tion. There is a preservation of our bodily appearance under 
 constant slow modifications ; we retain the structure of our sense 
 organs, and especially of our memory. The continuity of our 
 life is simply due to the preservation of form in the constant 
 flux of the vital functions which constitute life. The changes, 
 growth, and all the various fluctuations of our body account most 
 easily for those of our consciousness, and the preservation of 
 form — of soul-forms — is not limited to the span of our lives, it 
 takes place also in the development of the entire life of man- 
 kind. The souls of the past are preserved in the souls of the 
 present generation. They are transferred by heredity and edu- 
 cation from parents to children and children's children. 
 
 With all due respect for his greatness, we believe that Goethe 
 has not elaborated his views of the soul nor matured them into 
 clear and scientifically tenable propositions. He was too much 
 of a poet and too little of a philosopher,— in spite of his several 
 scientific labors. He actually disliked explanations in abstract 
 terms. 
 
 Goethe was neither a spiritualist nor a materialist. He had 
 common sense enough not to accept the superstitions of ghosts 
 and spooks, but on the other hand he could not be prevailed 
 upon to join the opposite camp of those who would deny the 
 very existence of mind and its significance. He lost no oppor- 
 tunity to ridicule such shallow rationalists as Nicolai of Berlin, 
 whose zeal for exterminating spirits consisted in a repudiation of 
 spirit. 
 
 Though Goethe was very reluctant to accept the marvelous 
 stories of telepathy he knew full well that man's mind is capable 
 of understanding things which are not directly approachable by 
 the senses, and that in the same sense the mind penetrates to 
 distant places. This view with its rational explanation is very 
 drastically and simply s6t forth in a poem entitled "Effect at a 
 Distance." Telepathy is indeed possible, but the true telepathy 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 239 
 
 is no mysterious power, but mere logical deduction. Nor are our 
 mental functions thought-waves which proceed in undulations 
 from man's brain outward to other parts of the world. Man's 
 judgments are simply an interpretation of the facts presented 
 to him in sensations, and this power of the mind yields most 
 marvelous results. Frequently it enables man to know with 
 great distinctness and positive certainty things that have hap- 
 pened long ago or at a great distance. Just as the presence 
 of a star is indicated by the sense impression of a speck of light 
 on the retina of the eye, so a certain symptom may betray a 
 situation of the occurrence of an event which itself could not be 
 observed, and this is true telepathy undeniable by the grossest 
 materialist. On this telepathy is based our communication by 
 telephone, telegraph and wireless telegraphy; electric waves of 
 a short or long duration are transferred, so-called dots and dashes 
 and their several combinations represent the several letters of the 
 alphabet, as well as other symbols known to the operators at both 
 ends. There are electric waves, not thought waves, that go to 
 a distance, but the mind deciphers the meaning that is given to 
 the different forms of the transmitted undulations. This is the 
 method by which science discovers the hidden secrets of natural 
 laws, the origin of creation, the development of evolution, etc. 
 Such telepathy is possible, and the law of its operation will be 
 seen to be very simple indeed. Scarcely ever has any more 
 humerous, and at the same time more instructive, presentation 
 of the problem been given than is set forth in Goethe's poem, 
 a versified translation of which is here attempted. It reads thus : 
 
 EFFECT AT A DISTANCE. 
 
 The Queen has a party, the candles are bright, 
 
 Her guests a game start playing; 
 
 She says to her page : "Thy foot is Hght, 
 
 Fetch the counters," and then adds, saying: 
 
 "They lie to hand 
 
 On my dresser stand." 
 
 The lad is quite nimble and zealous, 
 
 He hies to the end of the palace. 
 
 Beside the Queen, her sherbet, sips 
 
 A pretty maid of honor. 
 
 She brings the cup so hard to her lips 
 
240 GOETHE. 
 
 That some is spilled upon her. 
 
 A cry of distress 
 
 For the exquisite dress ! 
 
 And, with the fresh stains from the chalice, 
 
 She runs to the end of the palace. 
 
 The damsel and the returning boy 
 
 In the lonely hall were meeting ; 
 
 None knew of their love, but neither was coy 
 
 With open arms of greeting. 
 
 Glance spoke to glance 
 
 Of the glorious chance; 
 
 And, heart to heart, in seclusion. 
 
 They kissed and embraced with effusion. 
 
 At last they tore themselves apart. 
 The maid to her chamber was slipping; 
 The youth returned, with a beating heart, 
 O'er swords and flounces tripping. 
 The Queen's eye, trained, 
 Saw the lad's vest stained, 
 Like the Queen of Sheba in glory. 
 She knew at once the whole story. 
 
 She addressed her lady-in-waiting, elate, 
 "You argued, with insistence, 
 Some time ago in our little debate. 
 That the. mind does not act at a distance; 
 That the presence we face 
 Alone we can trace ; 
 
 To the distance are reaching no forces. 
 Not even the stars in their courses. 
 
 "Some sherbet, you see, has been spilled at my side. 
 
 And lo ! you may call it a wonder ! 
 
 It stained the vest of the lad that hied 
 
 To the end of the palace yonder. 
 
 Have a new one my boy, 
 
 Because I enjoy, 
 
 That a proof for my views you unfolded; 
 
 I'll pay it, nor shall you be scolded." 
 
 [WIRKUNG IN DIE FERNE. 
 
 Die Konigin steht im hohen Saal, 
 
 Da brennen der Kerzen so viele; 
 
 Sie spricht zum Pagen : "Du laufst einmal 
 
 Und hoist mir den Beutel zum Spiele. 
 
 Er lieget zur Hand 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 241 
 
 Auf meines Tisches Rand." 
 Der Knabe, der eilt so behende, 
 War bald an des Schlosses Ende. 
 
 Und neben der Konigin schliirft zur Stund' 
 
 Sorbet die schonste der Frauen. 
 
 Da brach ihr die Tasse so hart an dem Mund, 
 
 Es war ein Greticl zu schauen. 
 
 Verlegenheit ! Scham! 
 
 Urn's Prachtkleid ist's gethan ! 
 
 Sie eilt und fliegt so behende 
 
 Entgegen des Schlosses Ende. 
 
 Der Knabe zuriick zu laufen kam 
 
 Entgegen dfer Schonen in Schmerzen ; 
 
 Es wusst' es Niemand, doch Beide zusamm', 
 
 Sie hegten einander im Herzen; 
 
 Und o des Glucks, 
 
 Des giinst'geii Geschicks ! 
 
 Sie warfen. mit Brust sich zu Briisten 
 
 Und herzten und kiissten nach Liisten. 
 
 Doch endlich Beide sich reissen los; 
 
 Sie eilt in ihre Gemiicher; 
 
 Der Page drangt sich zur Konigin gross 
 
 Durch alle die Degen und Facher. 
 
 Die Fiirstin entdeckt 
 
 Das Westchen befleckt : 
 
 Fiir sie war nichts unerreichbar, 
 
 Der Kon'gin von Saba vergleichbar. 
 
 Und sie die Hofmeisterin rufen lasst: 
 "Wir kamen' doch neulich zu Streite, 
 Und Ihr behauptet steif und fest, 
 Nicht reiche der Geist in die Weite; 
 Die Gegenwart nur, 
 Die lasse wohl Spur; 
 Doch Niemand wirk' in die Feme, 
 Sogar nicht die himmlischen Sterne." 
 
 "Nun seht ! So eben ward mir zur Seit' 
 
 Der geistige Siisstrank verschiittet, 
 
 Und gleich darauf hat er dort hinten so weit 
 
 Dem Knaben die Weste zerriittet.— 
 
 Besorg' dir sie neu ! 
 
 Und weil ich mich freu', 
 
 Dass sie mir zum Beweise gegolten, 
 
 Ich zahl' sie 1 sonst wirst du gescholten."] 
 
242 GOETHE. 
 
 Under the title "God and World," Goethe published several 
 philosophical poems, among which one entitled "One and All," 
 ends with the lines : 
 
 And into naught we all must fall 
 If e'er in life we shall remain ; 
 
 while the poem "Bequest" makes the opposite statement saying: 
 
 No being into naught can fall; 
 The eternal liveth in them all. 
 
 This contrast is intentional on Goethe's part; he had written 
 the Poem, "One and All" in a mood which may appropriately be 
 characterized as "Goethe's Nirvana." But Goethe found himself 
 misunderstood. A German naturalist association took the lines 
 as a motto in a connection which seemed to interpret the idea that 
 death ends all; so Goethe found himself urged to show the re- 
 verse to this statement of self-surrender and therefore wrote 
 the poem "Bequest" to prove that while the individual must 
 identify himself with the All, his very individuality is preserved 
 in the evolution of soul. 
 
 We have further to add that the lines offer some difficulties 
 in interpretation, especially verse two, line four, of "Bequest," 
 where "the Wise One" has been differently construed by different 
 interpreters of Goethe's works. Some believe they find in the 
 passage an endorsement of Kant's subjective notions that it is 
 the astronomer who prescribes to the planets their orbits, and in 
 that case "the Wise One" would be Copernicus ; otherwise, we 
 ought to understand by "Wise One" the Omniscient Architect 
 of the world, — a masonic idea;^ and the meaning in that case 
 would be that truth comes from God who prescribes their courses 
 to the celestial bodies. 
 
 Terse three of the same poem contains indeed an echo of 
 Kant's doctrine of the a priori, including the categorical im- 
 perative, viz., that the soul contains a priori all the rules and laws 
 of purely formal thought, and also the standard of moral ob- 
 ligation. It is (as verse 4 declares) pure reason which enables 
 
 'Goethe was a Mason and used to write poems for Masonic festivals, 
 see page 227. 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 243 
 
 US to utilize all sense-material ; the senses are reliable if regulated 
 by reason. 
 
 Our translation is as literal as possible, while preserving also 
 as far as possible tlie meter of the original. 
 
 ONE AND ALL. 
 
 Into the limitless to sink, 
 No one, I trow, will ever blink. 
 For there all sorrow we dismiss. 
 Instead of cravings, wants untold, 
 Fatiguing demands and duties cold. 
 Surrender of one's self is bliss. 
 
 O, World-soul, come to fill our lives. 
 For he who with thy spirit strives 
 Attains the height of his vocation. 
 Then, sympathetic spirits, speed us ; 
 Great masters, gently higher lead us 
 To the Creator of creation. 
 
 In re-creating the created. 
 
 Lest fossilize the animated. 
 
 Aye, active power, is manifest; 
 
 The non-existing actualizing. 
 
 In younger worlds and suns is rising, 
 
 But never, nowhere, can be rest. 
 
 In active deeds life proves unfolding; 
 It must be moulded and keep mould- 
 ing; 
 Sometimes but seeming rest 'twill gain. 
 The eternal stirreth in us all ; 
 And into naught we all must fall, 
 If e'er in life we shall remain. 
 
 [EINS UND ALLES. 
 
 Im Grenzenlosen sich zu finden, 
 Wird gern der Einzelne verschwinden, 
 Da lost sich aller Ueberdruss; 
 Statt heissem Wiinschen, wildem Wol- 
 
 len, 
 Statt last'gem* Fordern, strengem 
 
 Sollen, 
 Sich aufzugeben, ist Genuss. 
 
 Weltseele, komm', uns zu durch- 
 
 dringen ! 
 Dann mit dem Weltgeist selbst zu 
 
 ringen, 
 Wird unsrer Krafte Hochberuf. 
 Theilnehmend fiihren gute Geister, 
 Gelinde leitend, hochste Meister, 
 Zu dem, der Alles schafft und schuf. 
 
 Und umzuschaffen das Geschaffne, 
 Damit sich's nicht zum Starren waffne, 
 Wirkt ewiges, lebend'ges Thun. 
 Und was nicht war, nun will es werden 
 Zu reinen Sonnen, farb'gen Erden; 
 In keinem Falle darf es ruhn. 
 
 Es soil sich regen, schaffend handeln, 
 Erst sich gestalten, dann verwandein ; 
 Nur scheinbar steht's Momente still. 
 Das Ew'ge regt sich fort in Allen; 
 Denn Alles muss in Nichts zerfallen, 
 Wenn es im Sein beharren will.] 
 
 BEQUEST. 
 
 No being into naught can fall. 
 The eternal liveth in them all; 
 In being, therefore, be thou blessed. 
 Being is eternal, for fixed measures 
 Preserve its ever-living treasures. 
 In which the world is nobly dressed. 
 
 [VERMAECHTNISS. 
 
 Kein Wesen kann zu Nichts zerfallen ! 
 Das Ewige regt sich fort in Allen, 
 Am Sein erhalte dich begluckt! 
 Das Sein ist ewig; denn Gesetze 
 Bewahren die lebend'gen Schatze, 
 Aus welchen sich das All geschmiickt. 
 
244 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 The Truth of yore has been descried. 
 And noble spirits it allied. 
 To dear old Truth we must adhere! 
 'Tis to the Wise One Truth we owe : 
 To Him who did their orbits show 
 To earth and to her brother-sphere. 
 
 First thou within thyself shouldst 
 
 enter, 
 For that within 'tis lies the center 
 No noble thinker will gainsay. 
 No rule there's missing. So rejoice. 
 That conscience' independent voice 
 Serves duty as its solar ray. 
 
 We on our senses must rely, 
 And if pur reason we apply, 
 Sensation never error yields; 
 With open eyes do all observing, 
 And roam with confidence unswerving 
 Through this world's rich and won- 
 drous fields. 
 
 Temper your joys with moderation. 
 With reason keep in consultation. 
 When life is beaming with life's glee. 
 The past will thus become enduring, 
 E'en now the future life-securing; 
 The moment gains eternity. 
 
 If thou succeedest, thou wilt feel 
 And it will to thy mind appeal, 
 True is alone what fertile is. 
 Examine universal sway; 
 It rules the world in its own way. 
 Keep thou with the minorities. 
 
 Das Wahre war schon langst gefun- 
 
 den, 
 Hat edle Geisterschaft verbunden. 
 Das alte Wahre fass es an! 
 Verdank' es, Erdensohn, dem Weisen, 
 Der ihr die Sonne zu umkreisen 
 Und dem Geschwister wies die Bahn. 
 
 Sofort nun wende dich nach innen. 
 Das Centrum findest du da drinnen, 
 Woran kein Edler zweifeln mag. 
 Wirst keine Regel da yermissen; 
 Denn das selbststandige Gewissen 
 1st Sonne deinem Sittentag. 
 
 Den Sinnen hast du dann zu trauen; 
 Kein Falsches lassen sie dich schauen, 
 Wenn dein Verstand dich wach erhalt. 
 Mit frischem Blick bemerke freudig, 
 Und wandle, sicher wie geschmeidig, 
 Durch Auen reichbegabter Welt. 
 
 Geniesse massig Fiill' und Segen; 
 Vernunft sei iiberall zugegen. 
 Wo Leben sich des Lebens freut. 
 Dann ist Vergangenheit bestandig, 
 Das Kiinftige voraus lebendig, 
 Der Augenblick ist Ewigkeit. 
 
 Und war es endlich dir gelungen, 
 Und bist du vom Gefiihl durch- 
 
 drungen : 
 Was fruchtbar ist, allein ist wahr; 
 Du priifst das allgemeine Walten, 
 Es wird nach seiner Weise schalten, 
 Geselle dich zur kleinsten Schaar. 
 
 Born, as of old, of patient love, 
 Whenever may the spirit move. 
 Are bard's and thinker's great crea- 
 tions ; 
 With highest favors they are fraught. 
 To feel for noble souls their thought,; 
 'Tis the most enviable of vocations.] 
 
 Und wie von Alters her, im Stillen, 
 Ein Liebewerk, nach eignem Willen, 
 Der Philosoph, der Dichter schuf; 
 So wirst du schonste Gunst erzielen: 
 Denn edien Seelen vorzufiihlen 
 Ist wiinschenswerthester Beruf.] 
 
 Goethe expressed his world-conception in a prose poem on 
 nature which was pubhshed as "A Fragment" in the first issues 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 245 
 
 of the Journal of Erfurt in 1782, a periodical which was not 
 printed but written by hand in eleven copies, and circulated in 
 the select circles of Weimar. This fragment is a remarkable 
 piece of poetic prose characteristic of Goethe the pantheist, and 
 reads as follows : 
 
 GOETHE'S RHAPSODY ON NATURE.9 
 
 "Nature ! By her we are surrounded and encompassed — 
 unable to step out of her and unable to enter deeper into her. 
 Unsolicited and unwarned, she receives us into the circle of her 
 dance, and hurries along with us, till we are exhausted and drop 
 out of her arms. 
 
 "She creates ever new forms ; what now is, was never before ; 
 what was, comes not again — all is new, and yet always the old. 
 
 "We live in her midst, and are strangers to her. She speaks 
 with us incessantly, and betrays not her mystery unto us. We 
 afifect her constantly, and yet have no power over her. 
 
 "She seems to have contrived everything for individuality, 
 but cares nothing for individuals. She builds ever, and ever 
 destroys, and her workshop is inaccessible. 
 
 "She lives in her children alone; and the mother, where is 
 she? She is the only artist: from the simplest subject to the 
 greatest contrasts; without apparent effort to the greatest per- 
 fection, to the precisest exactness — always covered with some- 
 thing gentle. Every one of her works has a being of its own, 
 every one of her phenomena has the most isolated idea, and yet 
 they all make one. 
 
 "She acts a play on the stage: whether she sees it herself 
 we know not, and yet she plays it for us who stand in the corner. 
 
 "There is an eternal living, becoming, and moving in her, 
 and yet she proceeds no farther. She transforms herself for- 
 ever, and there is no moment when she stands still. Of remain- 
 ing in a spot she does not think, and attaches her curse to stand- 
 ing still. She is firm ; her step is measured, her exceptions rare, 
 her laws unalterable. 
 
 "She has thought, and is constantly meditating; not as a 
 
 " Translated by the author. 
 
246 GOETHE. 
 
 man, but as nature. She has an all-embracing mind of her own, 
 and no one can penetrate it. 
 
 "All men are in her, and she is in all. With all she carries 
 on a friendly game, and rejoices the more they win from her. 
 She plays it with many so secretly, that she plays it to the end 
 ei^e they know it. 
 
 "The most unnatural is also nature; even the stupidest Phil- 
 istinism hath something of her genius. Who sees her not every- 
 where, sees her nowhere aright. 
 
 "She loves herself and clings ever, with eyes and hearts 
 without number, to herself. She has divided herself into parts 
 in order to enjoy herself. Ever she lets new enjoyers grow, 
 insatiable to impart herself. 
 
 "She delights in illusion. Whoever destroys this in himself 
 and others, him she punishes as the strictest tyrant. Whoever 
 trustfully follows her, him she presses like a child to her heart. 
 
 "Her children are without number. To no one is she alto- 
 gether niggardly, but she has favorites upon whom she squanders 
 much, and to whom she sacrifices much. To greatness she has 
 pledged her protection. 
 
 "She flings forth her creatures out of nothing, and tells 
 them not whence they come, nor whither they are going. Let 
 them only run; she knows the way. 
 
 "She has few springs, but those are never worn out, always 
 active, always manifold. 
 
 "Her play is ever new, because she ever creates new spec- 
 tators. Life is her finest invention, and death is her artifice to 
 get more life. 
 
 "She veils man in darkness, and spurs him continually to the 
 light. She makes him dependent on the earth, dull and heavy, 
 and keeps rousing him afresh. 
 
 "She gives wants, because she loves motion. The wonder is 
 that she accomplishes all this motion with so little. Every want 
 is a benefit; quickly satisfied, quickly growing again. If she 
 gives one more, it is a new source of pleasure; but she soon 
 comes into equilibrium. 
 
 "She sets out every moment for the longest race, and is every 
 moment at the goal. 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 247 
 
 "She is vanity itself, but not for us, to whom she has made 
 herself the greatest weight. 
 
 "She lets every child tinker with her, every fool pass judg- 
 ment on her, thousands stumble over her and see nothing; and 
 she has her joy in all, and she finds in all her account. 
 
 "Man obeys her laws, even when he strives against them; 
 he works with her even when he would work against her. 
 
 "She makes of all she gives a blessing, for she first makes 
 it indispensable. She lags, that we may long for her; she has- 
 tens, that we may not grow weary of her. 
 
 "She has no speech or language ; but she creates tongues and 
 hearts through which she feels and speaks. 
 
 "Her crown is love. Only through it can man ajpproach her. 
 She creates gaps between all things, and is always ready to 
 engulf all. She has isolated all, to draw all together. By a 
 few draughts from the cup of love she makes up for a life full of 
 trouble. 
 
 "She is all. She rewards herself and punishes herself, de- 
 lights and torments herself. She is rude and gentle, lovely and 
 terrible, powerless and almighty. 
 
 "All is always nozu in her. Past and future knows she not. 
 The present is her eternity. 
 
 "She is kindly. I praise her with all her works. She is 
 wise and quiet. One can tear no explanation from her, extort 
 from her no gift, which she gives not of her own free will. She 
 is cunning, but for a good end, and it is best not to observe her 
 cunning. 
 
 "She is whole, and yet ever uncompleted. As she plies it, 
 she can always ply it. 
 
 "To every one she appears in a form of her own. She hides 
 herself in a thousand names and terms, and is always the same. 
 
 "She has placed me here, she will lead me away. I trust my- 
 self to her. She may do as she likes with me. She will not hate 
 her work. It is not I who spake of her. No, both the true as 
 well as the false, she has spoken it all. All the guilt is hers, and 
 
 hers all the merit." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Many years after this rhapsody was written, the Chancellor 
 
248 GOETHE. 
 
 of Saxe-Weimar, Herr von Miiller, submitted the manuscript 
 to Goethe, who had forgotten all about it. In the meantime he 
 had modified his views, or rather emphasized another point in 
 his world-conception, and so he looked upon his former thought 
 as unsatisfactory. It was to him a comparative that ought to be 
 superseded by a superlative. Yet it is understood that the new 
 superlative view surpasses the comparative one without repu- 
 diating it. 
 
 In 1782 Goethe as a pantheist believed in nature and in the 
 divinity of nature in which we live and move and have our 
 being, but in later years he says concerning his views at this time : 
 "Nature does not move forward, she remains the same. Her 
 laws are unchangeable. Nature places me within life; she will 
 lead me out of it, and I confide in her." Without objecting to 
 his former belief, he has now learned to appreciate progress in 
 nature. He sees that by "polarity" and by "gradation" nature 
 produces a tendency siirsum, involving a constant metamor- 
 phosis. His investigations in natural science taught him that 
 man is kin to the animal, that he has risen from the animal king- 
 dom, and that consequently he is capable of rising higher and 
 higher. The thoughts of man's lowly origin and his kinship 
 to the animal world are not depressing to him, but -on the con- 
 trary elevating. He sees in them the promise of man's unlimited 
 possibilities, but this idea is not expressed in his fragment on 
 "Nature." So he adds to it an "Elucidation to the Aphoristic 
 Essay on Nature," under the date of May 24, 1828, addressed 
 to Chancellor von Muller as follows : 
 
 "This essay was sent to me a short time ago from among the 
 papers of the late revered Duchess Anna Amalia; it is written 
 by a familiar hand, of which I was accustomed to avail myself 
 in my affairs, in the year 1780 or thereabouts. 
 
 "I do not exactly remember having written these reflections, 
 but they agree very well with the ideas which had at that time 
 become developed in my mind. I might term the degree of in- 
 sight which I then possessed, a comparative one, which was 
 trying to express its tendency toward a superlative not yet at- 
 tained. 
 
 "There is an obvious inclination to a sort of pantheism, to the 
 
goethe's philosophy. 249 
 
 conception of an unfathomable, unconditioned, humorously self- 
 contradictory being underlying the phenomena of nature; and 
 it may pass as a jest with a bitter truth in it. 
 
 "What it lacks to make it complete, however, is the con- 
 sideration of the two great driving wheels of nature: the ideas 
 of polarity and of gradation, the first pertaining to matter in 
 so far as we conceive it as material, the second on the other 
 hand pertaining to spirit in so far as we conceive it as spiritual ; 
 the one exists in continuous attraction and repulsion, the other 
 in constantly aspiring to a higher stage. But because matter 
 can not exist efficiently without spirit nor spirit without matter, 
 matter is also capable of advancement just as spirit is not pre- 
 vented from attracting and repelling; as only those can under- 
 stand who have analyzed sufficiently to be able to make combi- 
 nations, or have made enough combinations to be able to analyze 
 again. 
 
 "In those years when the above mentioned essay was probably 
 written I was chiefly occupied with comparative anatomy, and 
 in 1784 took great pains to arouse sympathy with my conviction 
 that man's possession of an intermaxillary bone was not to be 
 disputed. Even very good thinkers would not investigate the 
 truth of the assertion and the best observers denied its im- 
 portance, and as in so many other matters I had secretly to pur- 
 sue my own way. 
 
 "I studied with unremitting effort the versatility of nature 
 in the vegetable kingdom, and was fortunate enough when in 
 Sicily in 1787 to become acquainted with the metamorphosis 
 of plants objectively as well as in abstract conception. The 
 metamorphosis of the animal kingdom bordered on that of plants, 
 and in 1790 in Venice I discovered the origin of the skull from 
 a vertebra. I now pursued more eagerly the construction of the 
 type, dictated the formula to Max Jacobi at Jena in 1795, and 
 soon had the pleasure of seeing my work taken up by German 
 naturalists. 
 
 "If we consider the high achievements by which all the phe- 
 nomena of nature have been gradually linked together in the 
 human mind ; and then, once more, thoughtfully peruse the above 
 essay from which we started, we shall, not without a smile, com- 
 
250 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 pare that comparative, as I called it, ^yith the superlative which 
 we have now reached, and rejoice in the progress of fifty years." 
 The famous scientist Haller, who lived in the end of the 
 eighteenth century (1708-1777), was a forerunner of Lamarck, 
 Treviranus, Karl E. von Baer, and others, who were the first 
 
 ALBRECHT VON HALLER. 
 
 to discover and state that evolution is the universal law of life 
 and growth. In spite of his sound judgment and stupendous 
 knowledge in natural philosophy, Haller had not yet freed 
 himself from the metaphysical skepticism of his time. He be- 
 lieved, as did most of his contemporaries, in the fundamental 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 251 
 
 unknowableness of natural phenomena. A verse of his, which 
 expressed this at that time popular opinion, was well known and 
 frequently quoted. It is as follows : 
 
 Nature's "within" from mortal mind 
 
 Must ever lie concealed. 
 Thrice blest e'en he to whom she has 
 
 Her outer shell revealed. 
 
 Goethe could not be reconciled to this view, which splits 
 nature in twain and places us, including our inquiring mind, out- 
 side of nature as if we were locked out from her secrets for 
 ever. He replied to Haller's verses in a short poem, which is 
 not so well known as it deserves to be : 
 
 "Nature's xvithin from mortal mind" 
 
 Philistine, sayest thou, 
 
 "Must ever lie concealed ?" 
 
 To me, my friend, and to my kind 
 
 Repeat this not. We trow 
 
 Where'er we are that we 
 
 Within must always be. 
 
 "Thrice blest e'en he to whom she has 
 
 Her outer shell revealed" 1 
 
 This saying sixty years I heard 
 
 Repeated o'er and o'er, 
 
 And in my soul I cursed the word, 
 
 Though secretly I swore. 
 
 Some thousand thousand times or 
 
 more 
 Unto myself I witness bore: ^ 
 "Gladly gives Nature all her store, 
 She knows not kernel, knows not 
 
 shell, 
 For she is all in one. But thou, 
 Examine thou thine own self well 
 If thou art kernel or art shell." 
 
 ["In's Inncre der Nalur" — 
 O du Philister!— 
 "Dringt kein crschaffncr Geist?" 
 Midi und Geschwister 
 Mogt' ihr an solches Wort 
 Nur nicht erinnern ; 
 Wir denken: Ort fiir Ort 
 Sind wir im Innern. 
 
 "GlUckselig! wem sie nur 
 
 Die dussere Schale weist!" 
 
 Das hor' ich sechzig Jahre ' wieder- 
 
 holen. 
 Ich fluche drauf, aber verstohlen. 
 Sage mir tausend-tausendmale : 
 AUes giebt sie reichlich und gern, 
 Natur hat weder Kern 
 Noch Schale, 
 Alles ist sie mit einera Male. 
 
 Dich priife du nur allermeist, 
 Ob du Kern oder Schale seist!] 
 
 It is well known that Goethe was an evolutionist, or as he 
 would have called himself, a transformationist. He believed m 
 the plasticity of life and he became firmly convinced that all plants 
 
252 GOETHE. 
 
 are mere variations of one general type, that they are all kin and 
 their variety of form can be explained by metamorphosis or 
 transformation. His enthusiasm for this idea found expression 
 in lines addressed to his wife Christiana under the title "The 
 Metamorphosis of Plants." Unfortunately the poem is written 
 in the ponderous meter of elegiac distichs. It reads : 
 
 THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS.lO 
 
 Thou art confused, my beloved, at seeing the thousandfold medley. 
 
 Shown in this flowery mass, over the garden dispersed ; 
 Many a name, love, thou hearest assigned ; one after another 
 
 Falls on thy listening ear with a barbarian sound. 
 None of these forms are alike but they all bear a certain resemblance. 
 
 And a mysterious law is by their chorus revealed. ^ 
 Yea, 'tis a sacred enigma, my loveliest friend; could I only 
 
 Happily teach thee the word which will the mystery solve ! 
 Closely observe how the plant is developing little by little, 
 
 How it will grow by degrees changing to blossom and fruit ! 
 First from the seed it unravels itself, as soon as the silent, 
 
 Motherly womb of the earth kindly allows its escape, 
 And to the charms of the light, which is holy and ever in motion, 
 
 Trusteth its delicate leaves, feebly beginning to shoot. 
 Simple the force is that slumbers in seeds; 'tis a germ of the future, 
 
 -Peacefully locked in itself, 'neath the integument hid. 
 Leaflet, and rootlet, and bud, still void of all color, and shapeless. 
 
 Such as the kernel, while dry, holdeth in motionless life. 
 Upward then striveth the plant and it swelleth with delicate moisture, 
 
 Forth from the night where it dwelt, straightway ascending to light. 
 Simple remaineth its shape, when the green first makes it appearance ; 
 
 And 'tis a token like this, points out the child 'mid the plants. 
 Soon though an off-shoot, succeeding it, rises on high, and repeateth, 
 
 Piling up node upon node, ever the primitive form; 
 Yet not always alike : for the following leaf, as thou seest, 
 
 Ever produceth itself, fashioned in manifold ways. 
 Longer and more indented, in points and in parts more divided, — 
 
 Forms which were latent till now, sleeping in organs below. 
 So it attaineth at length its predestined and noble perfection. 
 
 Which in these numerous forms, fills thee with wondering awe. 
 Ribbed it appears here and toothed, on its surface exuberant swelling, 
 
 Free and unending the shoot seemeth in fulness to be; 
 
 " First printed in Schiller's Musen-Almanach for 1799 but probably writ- 
 ten nine years before that date, simultaneously with Goethe's treatise entitled 
 "An Essay to Explain the Metamorphosis of Plants" (1790). The ideas 
 therein presented which are an anticipation of the theory of evolution did not 
 make a favorable impression and elicited only vigorous protest on the part of 
 specialists. Goethe wrote this poem in order to prepare the public for his 
 conception. 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 253 
 
 Nature, however, restraineth with powerful hand the formation. 
 
 And she perfecteth the plant, gently completing its growth, 
 Yielding the juices with lesser abundance, contracting the vessels, 
 
 So that the figure ere long nobler effects will disclose. 
 See how the growth of the foliage here on the edge is retarded, 
 
 While there the rib of the leaf fuller becometh in form. 
 Leafless, however, and quick the tenderer stem then upspringeth. 
 
 And a miraculous sight will the observer enchant. 
 Ranged in a circle in numbers that now are but small, and now countless. 
 
 Gather these delicate leaves close by the side of their like. 
 Here at the axis embraces them all the well sheltering calyx 
 
 Which the corolla presents, brilliant in hue and in form. 
 Nature thus decks them with bloom in a noble and radiant glory, 
 
 Showing, in order arranged, branches with leaves and with buds. 
 Wonderment fresh dost thou feel, as soon as the stem rears the flower 
 
 Over the scaffolding frail fringed with its alternate leaves. 
 Flowers, however, are only the prophets of further creation. 
 
 Truly the leaf with its hues feeleth the touch of a god. 
 It on a sudden contracteth itself ; the tenderest figures 
 
 Stand as yet twofold, divided, but soon will they haste to unite. 
 Lovingly then the fair couples are joined in a bridal alliance. 
 
 Gathered in countless array, there where the altar is raised. 
 Hymen is hovering o'er them, and scents of an odor delicious 
 
 Sweetly their fragrance exhale for the delight of the world. 
 Presently numberless germs on the several branches are swelling, 
 
 Sweetly concealed in the womb, where is made perfect the fruit. 
 Here, we see. Nature is closing the ring of her forces eternal; 
 
 And it attacheth a new link to the one gone before. 
 So that the chain be prolonged forever through all generations, 
 
 And the whole may have life, e'en as enjoyed by each part. 
 Now, my beloved one, turn thou thy gaze on the many-hued thousands 
 
 Which can confuse thee no more ; for they will gladden thy mind. 
 Every plant unto thee proclaimeth the law everlasting. 
 
 Every floweret speaks louder and louder to thee ; 
 But if thou here canst decipher the sacred design of the goddess. 
 
 Everywhere will it be seen, e'en though the features are changed. 
 Caterpillars are sluggish, and busily butterflies flutter,— 
 
 Man however may change even the figure decreed. 
 Oh, then, bethink thee, as well, how out of the germ of acquaintance, 
 
 Gradually habits arose. Seeking each other we met, 
 Verily friendship and love began to flame in our bosoms, 
 
 Finally Amor procured wondrously blossom and fruit! 
 Think of the manifold touches which Nature hath lent to our feelings. 
 
 Silently giving them birth, all of them different in form ! 
 Yea and rejoice thou to-day in the present! For love that is holy 
 
 Seeketh the noblest of fruits,— which is a concord of thought, ^ 
 When our opinions agree,— thus we both will in rapt contemplation. 
 Lovingly blending in one, find a more excellent world. 
 
 After Bowring's translation. 
 
254 GOETHE. 
 
 [DIE METAMORPHOSE DER PFLANZEN. 
 
 bich verwirret, Geliebte, die tausendfaltige Mischung 
 
 Dieses Blumengewiihls iiber dem Garten umher; 
 Viele Namen horest du an, und immer verdranget 
 
 Mit barbarischem Klang einer den andern im Ohr. 
 Alle Gestalten sind ahnlich, und keine gleichet der andern ; 
 
 Und so deutet das Chor auf ein geheimes Gesetz, 
 Auf ein heiliges Rathsel. O, konnt' ich dir, liebliche Freundin, 
 
 Ueberliefern sogleich gliicklich das losende Wort! 
 Werdend betrachte sie nun, wie nach und nach sich die Pflanze, 
 
 Stufenweise gefiihrt, bildet zu Bliithen und Frucht. 
 Aus dem Samen entwickelt sie sich, sobald ihn der Erde. 
 
 Stille befruchtender Schooss hold in das Leben entlasst, 
 Und dem Reize des Lichts, des heiligen, ewig bewegten, 
 
 Gleich den zartesten Bau keimender Blatter empfiehlt. 
 Einfach schlief in dem Samen die Kraft; ein beginnendes Vorbild 
 
 Lag verschlossen in sich, unter die Hiille gebeugt, 
 Blatt und Wurzel und Keim, nur halb geformet und farblos ; 
 
 Trocken erhalt so der Kern ruhiges Leben bewahrt. 
 Quillet strebend empor, sich milder Feuchte vertrauend, 
 
 Und erhebt sich sogleich aus der umgebenden Nacht. 
 Aber einfach bleibt die Gestalt der ersten Erscheinung; 
 
 Und so bezeichnet sich auch unter den Pflanzen das Kind. 
 Gleich darauf ein folgender Trieb, sich erhebend, erneuet, 
 
 Knoten auf Knoten gethiirmt, immer das erste Gebild. 
 Zwar nicht immer das gleiche; denn mannichfaltig erzeugt sich, 
 
 Ausgebildet, du siehst's, immer das folgende Blatt, 
 Ausgedehnter, gekerbter, getrennter in Spitzen und Theile, 
 
 Die verwachsen vorher ruhten im untern Organ. 
 Und so erreicht es zuerst- die hochst bestimmte Vollendung, 
 
 Die bei manchem Geschlecht dich zum Erstaunen bewegt. 
 Viel gerippt und gezackt, auf mastig strotzender Flache, 
 
 Scheinet die Fiille des Triebs frei und unendlich zu sein, 
 •Doch hier halt die Natur mit machtigen Handen die Bildung 
 
 An, und lenket sie sanft in das Vollkommnere hin. 
 Massiger leitet sie nun den Saft, verengt die Gefasse, 
 
 Und gleich zeigt die Gestalt zartere Wirkungen an. 
 Stille zieht sich der Trieb der strebenden Rander zuriicke, 
 
 Und die Rippe des Stiels bildet sich volliger aus. 
 Blattlos aber und schnell erhebt sich der zartere Stengel, 
 . Und ein Wundergebild zieht den Betrachtenden an. 
 Rings im Kreise stellet sich nun, gezahlet und ohne 
 • Zahl,, das kleinere Blatt neben dem ahnlichen hin. 
 Urn die Aehse gedrangt entscheidet der bergende Kelch sich, 
 
 Der zur hochsten Gestalt farbige Kronen entlasst. 
 Also prangt die Natur in hoher voller Erscheinung, 
 
 Und sie zeiget, gereiht, Glieder an Glieder gestuft. 
 Immer staunst du auf's Neue, sobald sich am Stengel die Blume 
 
Goethe's philosophy. 255 
 
 Ueber dem schlanken Geriist wechselnder Blatter bewegt. 
 Aber die Herrlichkeit wird des neuen Schaffens Verkundung; 
 
 Ja, das farbigc Blatt fiihlet die gottliche Hand, 
 Und zusammen zieht es sich schnell ; die zartesten Formen, 
 
 Zwiefach streben sie vor, sich zu vereinen bestimmt. 
 Traulich stehen sie mm, die holden Paare, beisammen, 
 
 Zahlreich ordnen sie sich um den geweihten Altar. 
 Hymen schwebet herbei, und herrliche Diifte, gewaltig, 
 
 Stromen siissen Gertich, Alles belebend umher. 
 Nun vereinzelt schwellen sogleich unziihlige Keime, 
 
 Hold in den Mutterschooss schwellender Fruchte gehiillt. 
 Und hier schliesst die Natur den Ring der ewigen Kriifte; 
 
 Doch ein neuer sogleich fasset den vorigen an, 
 Dass die Kette sich fort durch alle Zeiten verlange, 
 
 Und das Ganze belebt, so wie das Einzelne, sei. 
 Wende nun, o Geliebte, den Blick zum bunten Gewimmel, 
 
 Das verwirrend nicht mehr sich vor dem Geiste bewegt. 
 Jede Pflanze verkiindet dir nun die ew'gen Gesetze, 
 
 Jede Blume, sie spricht lauter und lauter niit dir. 
 Aber entzifferst du hier der Gottin heilige Leltern, 
 
 Ueberall siehst du sie dann, auch in verjindertem Zug. 
 Kriechend zaudre die Raupe, der Schmetterling eile geschiiftig, 
 
 Bildsam jindre der Mensch selbst die bestimmte Gestalt ! 
 O, gedenke denn auch, wie aus dem Keim der Bekanntschaft 
 
 Nach und nach in uns holde Gewohnheit entspross, 
 Freundschaft sich mit Macht in unserm Innern enthiillte. 
 
 Und wie Amor zuletzt Bliithen und Fruchte gezeugt. 
 Denke, wie mannichfach bald die, bald jene Gestalten, 
 
 Still entfaltend, Natur unsern Gefiihlen geliehn ! 
 Freue dich auch des heutigen Tags ! Die heilige Liebe 
 
 Strebt zu der hochsten Frucht gleicher Gesinnungen auf, 
 Gleicher Ansicht der Dinge, damit in harmonischem Anschaun 
 
 Sich verbinde das Paar, finde die hohere Welt.] 
 
 Goethe laid more stress on the thoughts contained in this poem 
 than his contemporaries, and he was displeased that his friends 
 did not see the same deep meaning in it which he had tried to 
 express. He was not less unfortunate with another argument 
 in favor of man's kinship to the animal world which aroused a 
 storm of indignation and of controversy, but the truth of which 
 has since been recognized. In Goethe's time naturalists main- 
 tained that the essential difference between human and animal 
 skeletons was the absence of the intennaxillary bone in the hu- 
 man jaw. Goethe succeeded in pointing out the existence of this 
 bone, by showing that it had coalesced so thoroughly as to conceal 
 
256 GOETHE. 
 
 its separate character. The existence of this intermaxillary bone 
 remained a guarantee to Goethe of the truth of the theory of 
 evolution as well as of the interrelation of all life on earth, and 
 this opened to him the vista of greater possibilities in man's future. 
 
 Goethe gave a poetic expression to these thoughts in "The 
 Metamorphosis of Animals," presumably written in 1806, in 
 which, besides teaching the theory later on propounded by La- 
 marck that habits determine the forms of life, he emphasizes 
 mainly the ethical aspect of the plasticity of nature and points 
 out that perfection can be attained only by imitation. 
 
 The "Metamorphosis of Animals" (written in hexameters, 
 not in distichs) in spite of its importance has never as yet been 
 translated. We offer the following version: 
 
 THE METAMORPHOSIS OF ANIMALS. 
 
 Durst ye ascend to the peak, to the highest of heights on the summit? 
 Well, then, I proffer my hand, and here you behold from this outlook 
 O'er the wide province of nature a view. Oh see, how the goddess 
 Spendeth so richly her gifts ! Yet worries she not as do mortal 
 Mothers who, filled with anxiety, care for the fate of their children. 
 'Twould not behoove her. She guards the young life by laws that are twofold. 
 This is her highest degree : She limits the scope of each creature. 
 Gives it' a limited want yet supplies it with means without limit, 
 Easily found and supplied. In motherly kindness she favors 
 Those of her children who earn her affection by daring endeavor. 
 Untrained they swarm into life, each obeying its own inclination. 
 
 Truly's each creature itself its own purpose, for nature creates it 
 
 Perfect ; and it in its turn begets progeny that will be perfect. 
 
 Organs and members are shaped according to laws everlasting, 
 
 Even the oddest formation its prototype latent preserveth. 
 
 Thus is each month well adapted to seize the right food and to swallow 
 
 That which is fit for its stomach,— the one may be tender and toothless. 
 
 While there are others with powerful jaws; but one organ will always 
 
 Cooperate with the others for a wholesome and proper nutrition. 
 
 Also the feet to the needs of the body are wisely adjusted, 
 
 Some of them long, while others are shprt, yet in perfect proportion. 
 
 Thus the kind mother assureth to each of her several children 
 
 Health in good store ; and the organized limbs of each animate being 
 
 Always will work for the whole, and ne'er counteract one another. 
 
 Therefore the shape of a creature determines its life and its habits, 
 
 While vice versa the habits of life will react on the organs 
 
 Potently. Any formation possesses a definite order 
 
 Which yet is subject to change through external effects and conditions. 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 257 
 
 But in the innermost self of the noblest of nature's creations 
 Lieth their power, confined to a holy mysterious circle. 
 And these limits removeth no god; they are honored by nature, 
 For limitation alone mal<eth possible highest perfection. 
 
 Yet in the innermost self a spirit titanic is also 
 
 Stirring, which fain would arbitrarily break through the circle, — 
 
 Bold innovation begetting new forms! But in vain it aspireth. 
 
 See how it swelleth one part, it endoweth with power 
 
 One for all others, and lo the result ! Those others must suffer. 
 
 Thus a onesided preponderance taketh away the proportion, — 
 
 Yea, it destroyeth all beauty of form and harmonious motion. 
 
 Seest thou then that a creature has preference gained over others, 
 
 Look for the shortage at once and seek with confiding inquiry. 
 
 Then thou at once wilt discover the key for the varied formations; 
 
 As, for example, no animal beareth a horn on its forehead 
 
 If in its jaw it possesseth its teeth in perfect completion; 
 
 Wherefore our mother eternal e'en if she endeavored to do so. 
 
 Could not in all her creation engender such forms as horned lions. 
 
 There's not enough in amount for constructing the horns On the forehead, 
 
 And in the mouth the formation of teeth that are perfect in number. 
 
 'Tis a most beautiful thought to have power and self-limitation. 
 
 Liberty and moderation, free motion and law, and all plastic. 
 
 Preference offset by want! O rejoice that the Muses have taught thee 
 
 Gently for harmony's sake to yield to a wholesome compulsion, 
 
 For there's no ethical thinker who finds aspirations sublimer. 
 
 Truly the man of great deeds, the artist, the poet, the ruler. 
 
 He who deserves so to be, thus only his worth can acquire. 
 
 Highest of creatures, rejoice ! for thou, thou alone, comprehendest 
 
 Nature's sublimest idea ; and what at her best she created 
 
 Thinkest thou over again. Here take thou thy stand and look backward, 
 
 Prove all things and compare, and learn from the Muse what she teaches, 
 
 Better than raving by far is assured and approved comprehension. 
 
 [DIE METAMORPHOSE DER THIERE. 
 
 Wagt ihr, also bereitet, die letzte Stufe zu steigen 
 Dieses Gipfels, so reicht mir die Hand und offnet den freien 
 Blick in's weite Feld der Natur. Sie spendet die reichen 
 Lebensgaben umher, die Gottin; aber empfindet 
 Keine Sorge wie sterbliche Fraun um ihrer Gebornen 
 Sichere Nahrung; ihr ziemet es nicht; denn zwiefach bestimmte 
 Sie das hochste Gesetz, beschrankte jegliches Leben, 
 Gab ihm gemessnes Bediirfniss, und ungemessene Gaben, 
 Leicht zu finden, streute sie aus, und ruhig begiinstigt 
 Sie das muntre Bemiihn der vielfach bediirftigen Kinder; 
 Unerzogen schwarmen sie fort nach ihrer Bestimmung. 
 
258 GOETHE. 
 
 Zweck sein selbst ist jegliches Thier, vollkommen entspringt es 
 Aus dem Schooss der Natur und zeugt voUkommene Kinder ; 
 AUe Glieder bilden sich aus nach ew'gen Gesetzen, 
 Und die seltenste Form bewahrt im Geheimen das Urbild. 
 So ist jeglicher Mund geschickt die Speise zu fassen, 
 Welche dem Korper gebiihrt, es sei nun schwachlich und zahnlos 
 Oder machtig der Kiefer gezahnt, in jeglichem Falle 
 Fordert ein schicklich Organ den iibrigen Gliedern die Nahrung. 
 Auch bewegt sich jeglicher Fuss, der lange, der kurze, 
 Ganz harmonisch zum Sinne des Thiers und seinem Bediirfniss. 
 So ist jedem der Kinder die voile, reine Gesundheit 
 Von der Mutter bestimmt; denn alle lebendigen Glieder 
 Widersprechen sich nie und wirken alle zum Leben. 
 Also bestimmt die Gestalt die Lebensweise des Thieres, 
 Und die Weise zu leben, sie wirkt auf alle Gestalten 
 Machtig zuriick. So zeiget sich fest die geordnete Bildung, 
 Welche zum Wechsel sich neigt durch ausserlich wirkende Wesen. 
 
 Doch im Innern befindet die Kraft der edlern Geschopfe 
 Sich im heiligen Kreise lebendiger Bildung beschlossen. 
 Diese Grenzen erweitert kein Gott, es ehrt die Natur sie : 
 Denn nur also beschrankt war je das VoUkommene moglich. 
 
 Doch im Innern sclieint ein Geist gewaltig zu ringen, 
 Wie er durchbrache den Kreis, Willkiir zu schaffeh den Formen 
 Wie dem Wollen; doch was er beginnt, beginnt er vergebens. 
 Denn zwar drangt er sich vor zu diesen Gliedern, zu jenen, 
 Stattet machtig sie aus, jedoch schon darben dagegen 
 Andere Glieder; die Last des Uebergewichtes vernichtet 
 Alle Schone der Form und alle reine Bewegung. 
 Siehst du also dem einen Geschopf besonderen Vorzug 
 Irgend gegonnt, so frage nur gleich, wo leidet es etwa 
 Mangel anderswo, und suche mit forschendem Geiste! 
 Finden wirst du sogleich zu aller Bildung den Schliissel. 
 Denn so hat kein Thier, dem sammtliche Zahne den obern 
 Kiefer umzaunen, ein Horn auf seiner Stirne getragen, 
 Und daher ist den Lowen gehornt der ewigen Mutter 
 Ganz unmoglich zu bilden, und bote sie alle Gewalt auf; 
 Denn sie hat nicht Masse genug, die Reihen der Zahne 
 Vollig zu pflanzen und auch Geweih und Horner zu treiben. 
 
 Dieser schone Begriff von Macht und Schranken, von Willkiir 
 Und Gesetz, von Freiheit und Maass, von beweglicher Ordnung, 
 Vorzug und Mangel, erfreue dich hoch! die heilige Muse 
 Bringt harmonisch ihn dir, mit sanftem Zwange belehrend. 
 Keinen hohern Begriff erringt der sittliche Denker, 
 Keinen der thiitige Mann, der dichtende Kiinstler; der Herrscher, 
 Der verdient es zu sein, erfreut nur durch ihn sich der Krone. 
 Freue dich, hochstes Geschopf der Natur, du fiihlest dich fahig 
 
GOETHE S PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 259 
 
 Ihr den schonsten Gedanken, zu dem sie schaffend sich aufschwang, 
 Nachzudenken. Hier stehe nun still und wende die Blicke 
 Ruckwarts, priife, vergleiche und nimm vom Munde der Muse, 
 Dass du schauest, nicht schwiirmst, die liebliche, voile Gewissheit.] 
 
 The two poems on the metamorphosis of plants and animals 
 appear in the usual editions of Goethe's poetry framed in by three 
 little poems entitled "Parabasis," "Epirrhema," and "Antepir- 
 rhema," which strange-sounding titles are chosen in imitation of 
 a custom of the chorus of the Greek stage, whose leader, the so- 
 called Corypheus, addressed the public in a general adhortation 
 not necessarily connected with the plot of the drama. The first 
 address "Parabasis" is followed by the "Epirrhema," a kind of 
 epilogue, and the "Antepirrhema" a counter-epilogue. Like 
 several other philosophical poems of Goethe here quoted they are 
 now translated for the first time. 
 
 PARABASIS. 
 
 Joyous, as it me behooveth, 
 Did for years my soul aspire 
 To experience and inquire 
 How creative nature moveth. 
 
 'Tis the eternal one and all 
 Which appears as manifold, 
 Small things great are, great things 
 
 small. 
 Everything has its own mould. 
 
 Same remaining in mutations, 
 Near and far, and far and near, 
 Forming thus by transformations- 
 How amazing I am here ! 
 
 EPIRRHEMA. 
 
 Take in nature-meditation. 
 Each and all in contemplation, 
 Naught is inside, naught is out. 
 For the inside is without. 
 Thus shall comprehended be 
 Holy open mystery. 
 
 Truth of semblance pleasure giveth, 
 So doth serious play. 
 Merely one, there's naught that liveth 
 'Tis a manifold alway. 
 
 [PARABASE. 
 
 Freudig war vor vielen Jahren 
 Eifrig so der Geist bestrebt, 
 Zu erforschen, zu erfahren, 
 Wie Natur im Schaffen lebt. 
 
 Und es ist das ewig Eine, 
 Das sich vielfach offenbart; 
 Klein das Grosse, gross das Kleine, 
 AUes nach der eig'nen Art. 
 
 Immer wechselnd, fest sich haltend, 
 Nah und fern, und fern und nah; 
 So gestaltend, umgestaltend— 
 Zum Erstaunen bin ich da.] 
 
 [EPIRRHEMA. 
 
 Miisset im Naturbetrachten 
 Immer Eins wie Alles achten; 
 Nichts ist drinnen, nichts ist draussen ; 
 Denn was innen, das ist aussen. 
 So ergreifet ohne Saumniss 
 Heilig offentlich Geheimniss. 
 
 Freuet euch des wahren Scheins, 
 Euch des ernsten Spieles; 
 Kein Lebendiges ist ein Eins, 
 Immer ist's ein Vieles.] 
 
260 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 ANTEPIRRHEMA. 
 
 Behold how Nature all achieves, 
 How masterly her work she weaves. 
 One treadle holds thousands of threads 
 
 connected. 
 Her shuttles hither and thither are 
 
 flung, 
 The fibers in both directions strung, 
 And thousand transactions at once 
 
 are perfected. 
 
 This she has not by chance combined. 
 
 But from eternity designed. 
 
 So the eternal master may 
 
 His web and woof with surety lay. 
 
 [ANTEPIRRHEMA. 
 
 So schauet mit bescheidnem Blick 
 Der ewigen Weberin Meisterstiick, 
 Wie Ein Tritt tausend Faden regt, i/ 
 
 Die Schifflein hintiber, heriiber schie- ,. 
 
 ssen. 
 Die Faden sich begegnend fliessen, 
 Ein Schlag tausend Verbindungen 
 
 schlagt ! 
 
 Das hat sie nicht zusammengebettelt ; 
 Sie hat's von Ewigkeit angezettelt, 
 Damit der ewige Meistermann , 
 Getrost den Einsclilag werfen kann.] 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 BY a classic we understand anything in art and literature that 
 has become accepted as a model of perfection, or at least 
 that complies with and conforms to the rules of the recognized 
 standard. In contrast to the 
 
 classical stand all those, be they 
 artists or authors, who repu- 
 diate rule, or standard, or au- 
 thority and proclaim the liberty 
 of genius. These opponents of 
 classical taste go under differ- 
 ent names. They were prom- 
 inent before as well as after the 
 appearance of Goethe's most 
 classical literature, and it seems 
 as if epochs of classicism were 
 constantly alternating with anti- 
 classical tendencies. 
 
 The poets of the time of 
 Goethe's youth reveled in the 
 thought that genius should be 
 untrammeled by conventionali- 
 ties, traditions or considera- 
 tions of any kind. No stand- 
 ards, not even those of com 
 mon morality, must be tole- 
 rated, while full play should be given to sentiment, to a most 
 vigorous self-realization, to an unimpeded actualization . of an 
 exuberant joy of life, of Lebenslust and of passion, which was 
 
 /J r/u,U^M..t^U r^cL 
 
 A CONTEMPORARY CARICATURE 
 
262 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 JOHANN GOTTFRIED VON HERDER. 
 
 After a crayon drawing from life by Burg. Original in possession 
 
 of Herder's grandson, Councilor Stichling of Weimar. 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 263 
 
 justified by the plea that passion represented the promptings of 
 nature. Nature was the ideal of this period, and "Back to na- 
 ture ' was the slogan, whose note had first been sounded by Tean 
 Jacques Rousseau. 
 
 The leading spirits of this epoch, viz., the time preceding the 
 efflorescence of classical literature in Germany, named this move- 
 ment the period of genius, and one of the most prominent among 
 
 MALER MUELLER.* 
 After an engraving by Ludwig 
 Grimm, 1816. 
 
 FRIEDRICH MAXIMILIAN 
 
 KLINGER. 
 
 After a drawing by Goethe, 177-S. 
 
 them, Friedrich Maximilian Klinger, characterized its aspirations 
 in a drama which in its days was much admired, but is now 
 generally known only for its title, Sturm und Drang, i. e., "Storm 
 and Stress," a title which afterwards furnished the name h) 
 which this period of German literature became known. Klinger 
 was born February 17, 1752; he came in contact with Goethe at 
 Weimar in 1776. He served first in the Austrian and then in 
 the Russian army, rising in the latter to the rank of lieutenant- 
 
 * Friedrich MuUer, born January 13, 1749 at Kreuznach, became a convert 
 to Roman Catholicism and died at Rome April 23, 1825. He combined with his 
 poetic talent other artistic gifts, and is generally known as "Painter Miiller" 
 (Maler Miiller) to distinguish him from the many other Mtillers. 
 
264 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 general; while in Russia he was knighted. He died February 
 25, 1831, at St. Petersburg. 
 
 FRIEDRICH SCHILLER. 
 After a drawing by Jagemann. 
 
 The main poets of the classical period, Goethe, Schiller, 
 Herder and even Lessing, took an active part in this movement 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 265 
 
 of Storm and Stress, or as it was then thought to be, of un- 
 trammeled genius. In 1767 Herder wrote "The Fragments,"^ 
 from which the beginning of the epoch is dated, Goethe wrote 
 "Goetz" and "Werther," and Schiller, "The Robbers." Even the 
 sober Lessing was not a little under its influence for soriie time, 
 but while Klinger and Maler Miiller never outgrew the crudities 
 
 THE YOUNG GOETHE. 
 
 Crayon by Johann Hieronymus Lips, 1791, in the Freie deutsche 
 
 Hochstift at Frankfort. 
 
 of this naturalism all the others here mentioned, after they had 
 developed to the fulness of their manhood, sobered down to a 
 recognition of the need, or perhaps the helpfulness and mdis- 
 pensableness, of rules, whereupon they adopted the standards of 
 former classical periods, especially those established in Greek 
 ^Pragmente iiber die neuere deutsche Litteratur. 
 
266 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 antiquity. Through the observance of rule they succeeded in 
 rising above nature and building there with nature's own ma- 
 terials a realm of a higher and purer nobility, the realm of art. 
 
 AUGUST WILHELM VON SCHLEGEL. 
 Painted by Hoheneck. 
 
 The triumph of these greater men ended the period of storm 
 and stress and rendered impossible a further recognition of 
 the untamed geniuses. The epoch of the men of nature, or raw 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 267 
 
 genius, of the spirit of rebellion, ends with the appearance of 
 Schiller's "Don Carlos" in 1787, and posterity judges of this 
 movement merely as a time of preparation for genuine art and 
 the higher classical literature which developed out of it. It was 
 
 LUDWIG TIECK. 
 Painted by Joseph Stieler. 
 
 the age of the immaturity of genius, and so it is well characterized 
 as a period of storm and stress. 
 
 Goethe and Schiller as well as the other classical writers. 
 
268 GOETHE. 
 
 among whom Herder, Wieland and Lessing deserve special men- 
 tion, did their best work when they allowed their poetical effu- 
 sions to be guided by rule. To be sure we find nature in their 
 works, yet its impulsive impetuosity is moderated by the dignity 
 of art. 
 
 Both the young Goethe and the young Schiller were for some 
 time in search of an expression for the highest and best, and in 
 their younger years passed through a period of wildest irregu- 
 larities which, however, they gradually outgrew without losing 
 the genius and vigor of their early aspirations. In his best years 
 Goethe was apt to antagonize those who would take nature as 
 the only guide, and for a long time he was prejudiced against 
 Schiller because he disliked his drama "The Robbers." In his 
 later years, however, Goethe broadened and without losing his 
 preference for the classical, he saw more and more the significant 
 part which these wild promptings play in the development of 
 man. In the history of literature the pendulum naturally swings 
 back from classic regularity to a recognition of sentiment, and 
 in his old age Goethe may at the same time have felt that nature, 
 even in her irregularities, is dominated by a law which will grad- 
 ually assert itself, even in those who scorn the rule of art. 
 
 Under these impressions Goethe wrote a sonnet for which the 
 preceding remarks will serve as a commentary. In this he 
 returns to a recognition of the rights of nature, and concedes 
 that nature with her immediate promptings will help to warm 
 our hearts, but after all, he remains faithful to the classical ideal. 
 The sonnet reads : 
 
 Nature and art each other seem to flee, 
 
 Yet unexpectedly again they meet. 
 
 All my objections now are obsolete 
 For both apparently with me agree. 
 Honest endeavor here will needed be, 
 
 And when in hours with thoughtfulness replete 
 
 We give ourselves to art with zeal complete, 
 May nature warm our hearts and make them free. 
 
 Thus only culture can attain its goal. 
 
 In vain wild spirits will, with methods faster 
 
 And broader, seek the heights of pure perfection. 
 
LiTERATURfi AND CRITICISM. ^6^ 
 
 Who wants great things must practise self-control; 
 In limitation shows himself the master, 
 And liberty needs laws for wise direction. 
 
 [Natiir und Kunst, sie scheinen sich zu fliehen 
 Und haben sich, eh' man es denkt, gefunden ; 
 Der Widerwille ist auch mir verschwunden, 
 Und beide scheinen gleich mich anzuzieheii. 
 Es gilt wohl nur ein redliches Bemiihen ! 
 Und wenn wir erst in abgemessnen Stunden 
 Mit Geist mid Fleiss uns an die Kunst gebunden, 
 Mag frei Natur im Herzen wieder gliihen. 
 
 So ist's mit aller Bildung auch beschaffen: 
 Vergebens warden ungebundne Geister 
 Nach der Vollendung reiner Hohe streben. 
 Wer Grosses will, muss sich zusammenraffen ; 
 In der Beschrankung zeigt sich erst der Meister, 
 Und das Gesetz nur kann uns Freiheit geben.] 
 
 On reading this sonnet before the Verein alter deutscher 
 Studenten, the writer learned from Prof. J. T. Hatfield, of 
 Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois, that he also had 
 translated the same poem, and with his permission it is here 
 reprinted from his series of "Poems from the German," pub- 
 lished in No. 10 of William S. Lord's little leaflet entitled Noon: 
 
 Nature and Art seem ofttimes to be foes, 
 But, ere we know it, join in making peace; 
 My own repugnance, too, has come to cease. 
 And each an equal power attractive shows. 
 Let us but make an end to dull repose: 
 When Art we serve in toil without release. 
 Through stated hours, absolved from vain caprice. 
 Nature once more within us freely glows. 
 
 All culture, as I hold, must take this course; 
 Unbridled spirits ever strive in vain 
 Perfection's radiant summit to attain. 
 Who seeks great ends must straitly curb his force; 
 In narrow bounds the Master's skill shall show, 
 And only Law true Freedom can bestow. 
 
 A later translation comes from the pen of Mr. Thomas H. 
 Jappe, of Brooklyn, New York. It reads as follows : 
 
270 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Antagonistic art and nature seem, 
 And yet are one without your knowing how; 
 Gone is that feeling of aversion now, 
 And equally attractive both I deem. 
 
 HEINRICH HEINE. 
 Painting by Moritz Oppenheim. 
 
 Honest endeavor is no idle dream; 
 And once in measured moments bound, I trow, 
 To art with mental force and sweat of brow. 
 Nature in us again will freely gleam. 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 271 
 
 True culture at all times demands the same: 
 Untutored minds will ever vainly strive 
 Perfection's height immaculate to scale. 
 Focus your powers all if high you aim ! 
 Confined in bounds is mastery in life, 
 And lawless liberty will surely fail. 
 
 The meaning of the terms Nature and Art will be under- 
 stood by those who have followed our expositions. Nature is 
 
 'uSmj, 
 
 NOVALIS. 
 
 the ideal of the men of storm and stress, of impressionists,' of 
 the Romantic school, of sentimentalists. Goethe had been op- 
 posed to genius that was sowing its wild oats, but now he grants 
 it the right of existence, but prophesies that it will not reach 
 the perfection of art. He wants liberty, not license, even in 
 
272 GOETHE. 
 
 poetry, and declares that great things can be accomplished only 
 by self-control and self-limitation. 
 
 Mankind seems to tire easily of self-control, of rule, of limi- 
 tations and likewise of the classical. The pendulum swings to 
 and fro, and after the classical period Germany experienced a 
 vigorous revival of Romanticism. Its leading spirits were the 
 Schlegel brothers (of whom August Wilhelm.is the_moreJxn- 
 portant), Tieck, and a great number of minor poets of whom 
 we will mention Hardenberg who under the pseudonym Novalis 
 has written some very touching religious lyrics, some of which 
 will remain for all ages a most noble expression of Christian 
 piety. We may also classify Heine, 1797 (or 9) to 1856, with 
 them, although he was least tinged with the reactionary spirit 
 and a hankering after the poetry of the Middle Ages. 
 
 In our own days we are witnessing another sentimental revolu- 
 tion which would discard all norms even in science and philosophy. 
 It appears that people have become tired of definiteness in their 
 conception of truth, and wish to replace it by something quite 
 original, the result being aberrations and vagaries. And yet 
 these periods are natural and in many respects even justified and 
 helpful, for they teach mankind to dig for the truth again and 
 again ; for the truth is not true if it is not true to me, and nothing 
 is really true to me unless I have searched for and found the 
 truth myself. Therefore we — every one of us — must discover 
 the same old truths. 
 
 Says Faust in the first act of Goethe's great drama : 
 
 Yea, the inheritance thy fathers left thee, 
 Earn it anew to really possess it. 
 
 [Was Dii ererbt von Deinen Vatern hast, 
 Erwirb es, um es zu besitzen.] 
 
 Romanticism has produced many beautiful works of litera- 
 ture, but after all, the classical productions of Goethe, Schiller, 
 Lessing and Herder have proved more enduring. Romantic 
 poetry is almost forgotten while we return again and again to 
 the great masters of classic art. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Goethe's world-conception, including his view of the divine 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 273 
 
 power that acts as a dispensation in the universe, was mainly 
 poetical. To be sure he was neither anti-philosophical nor anti- 
 scientific : but he abhorred analysis, dissection, criticism, in brief 
 all negativism, or in other words that process of thought which 
 is treated with a sneer by Mephistopheles in "Faust" (I, 4) : 
 
 He who would study organic existence, 
 First drives out the soul with rigid persistence, 
 Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, 
 But the spiritual link is lost, alas ! 
 
 [War will was Lebendig's erkennen und beschreiben, 
 Sucht erst den Geist herauszutreiben, 
 Dann hat er die Theile in seiner Hand, 
 Fehlt leider nur das geistige Band.] 
 
 Goethe was at sword's points with both extremes, the pietist 
 or dogmatist, and the iconoclast or negativist. The former was 
 represented among his friends by Jacobi, a wealthy privateer 
 and, as an author, an able and worthy representative of the 
 Protestant faith ;2 the latter by Wolf, a philologist and the first 
 higher critic of Homer, and also by Friedrich Bahrdt, a liberal 
 theologian and a rationalist. 
 
 Friedrich August Wolf, born at Haynrode, near Nordhausen, 
 Germany, February 15, 1759, was perhaps the best classical 
 scholar of his age. Having completed liis studies at Gottingen, 
 he held a chair as professor of classical philology at Halle from 
 1783 to 1807; whereupon he entered the Prussian government 
 service at Berlin, and died at Marseilles, August 8, 1824. 
 
 The modern spirit of our classical schools which is now dom- 
 inant at all the universities of both continents, Europe and 
 America, may be said to date from him. He was the father of 
 textual criticism, and his work Prolegomena in Homermn (1794) 
 was the first attempt at a scientific treatment of the Greek na- 
 tional epic. 
 
 In spite of Wolf's great merit as a scholar and thinker, 
 Goethe had an intense aversion toward him because he had 
 analyzed the Homeric epics, denied their original unity, resolved 
 them into several rhapsodies, and doubted the historicity of 
 
 'Ci. Alexander W: Craford, "The Philosophy of F. H. Jacobi," Cornell's 
 Studies in Philosophy, No. 6. 
 
274 GOETHE. 
 
 Homer's personality. Goethe's dislike of Christian liberal theo- 
 logians and their higher criticism was practically based on the 
 same reason, for the poet loved Christianity, even its mythology 
 and legendary excrescences. He objected only to the narrow- 
 ness of Christian exclusiveness which called all other religions 
 pagan and would not allow him to love and revere the gods of 
 Olympus. 
 
 Those who had attempted critically to analyze Christianity 
 or the Christian Gospels, as Wolf treated Homer, became at 
 once an object of Goethe's scorn, and the man upon whom he 
 poured out the full vial of his sarcasm was Prof. Karl Friedrich 
 Bahrdt. 
 
 Bahrdt was an unfortunate man mainly because he was in ad- 
 vance of his age, and the treatment he received on account of 
 his liberal theology finally proved his ruin and left him a physical 
 and moral wreck. He was born in Bischofswerda, Saxony, 
 August 25, 1741. He was professor first at Leipsic in 1766-68, 
 then at Erfurt in 1768-71, and finally at Giessen in 1771-75. 
 Dismissed on the charge of heresy he became director of the 
 Philanthropin, a humanitarian school at Marschlins in 1775, 
 whence he was called to Diirkheim as superintendent general and 
 pastor, but the imperial council declared him incapable of holding 
 ecclesiastical office and forbade him to publish any of his writ- 
 ings. Driven into exile he took refuge in Prussia where he lec- 
 tured on philosophy and philology at Halle, 1779-89; but having 
 published a satire in the form of a comedy entitled Das Religions- 
 edict (1788) in which he castigated the Prussian church govern- 
 ment, he was sentenced to one year imprisonment at the fortress 
 of Magdeburg. This degradation proved his ruin. After he had 
 served the sentence he was broken in spirit and character, and 
 the only resource left to him for making a living was to con- 
 duct a dram shop. He died April 23, 1792. 
 
 In connection with Bahrdt Goethe tells in the fourteenth 
 book of "Truth and Fiction," a little joke played on Lavater, 
 which did not succeed, however, since the great physiognomist 
 came out victorious. Goethe says : 
 
 "The number of those who had no faith in physiognomy, or 
 at least regarded it as uncertain and deceitful, was very great; 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 275 
 
 and several who had a liking for Lavater felt a desire to try him, 
 and, if possible, to play a trick on him. He had ordered of a painter 
 in Frankfort, who was not without talent, the profiles of several 
 well-known persons. Lavater's agent ventured upon the jest of 
 sending Bahrdt's portrait as mine, which soon brought back a 
 merry but thundering epistle, full of all kinds of expletives, and 
 assertions that this was not my picture,— together with every- 
 
 *-i-a^ ■w^-' *T . 
 
 
 -w 
 
 ^"*'a*''^f»»H™»i < 
 
 KARL FRIEDRICH BAHRDT. 
 
 thing that on such an occasion Lavater would naturally have to 
 say in confirmation of the doctrine of physiognomy. My true 
 likeness, which was sent afterwards, he allowed to pass more 
 readily." 
 
 Goethe first became acquainted with Bahrdt through his book, 
 "Eden, or Contemplations on Paradise and the Events which 
 Took Place Therein." His review of Bahrdt's expositions in 
 
276 GOETHE. 
 
 the Frankfurter gelehrte Anseigen in 1772, was not very favor- 
 able and condemned his shallow rationahsm. Nowhere is Goethe's 
 dislike for a critical analysis of literature more forcibly presented 
 than in his satire on Bahrdt's "Latest Revelations of God" 
 which first appeared in 1774 in Giessen as a separate print. In 
 1775 it was reprinted in a collection entitled "Rhenish Must," 
 and in 1779 it was incorporated in Himburg's Reprints. It is 
 a dramatic sketch little known outside the narrowest circle of 
 Goethe speciaHsts. For unknown reasons it has not been in- 
 ckided in the Diintzer edition of Goethes Werke, and this omis- 
 sion may be accountable for the fact that at present it is very 
 little known. It can only be found in complete editions of 
 Goethe's collected works. In the index it appears under the 
 catch-word Prolog. 
 
 So far as we know it has never been rendered into English 
 and so we offer a translation of our own. The title which is a 
 copy of the title of Bahrdt's book, reads as follows : 
 
 "Prologue to the Latest Revelations of God interpreted by 
 Dr. Karl Friedrich Bahrdt.— Giessen, 1774." 
 
 Here is Goethe's treatment of the subject: 
 
 {Professor Bahrdt in evening dress at his desk writing. His wife enters, 
 [tutting on her cloak.} 
 
 Mrs. B. Come dear, to the party ; we must not be late, 
 Nor make our friends for the coffee wait. 
 
 {Professor Bahrdt without heeding his ivife raises his paper and looks at it.) 
 Prof. B. An idea happens to come to me, 
 
 Thus should I speak, if Christ I'd be. 
 
 {At that moment a trampling as of hoofs is heard outside.) 
 Mrs. B. {startled). What trampHng hear I on the stair? 
 
 Prof. B. 'Tis worse than students I declare, 
 
 They come on all fours,— an awful din! 
 Mrs. B. What fearful beasts are coming in ! 
 
 {Enter the four evangelists. Mrs. Bahrdt shrieks. Matthew is attended by 
 the angel; Mark by the lion; Luke by the ox; and over John hovers the 
 
 eagle. ) 
 
 Matt. We learn you are a brave good man. 
 
 And do for our Lord as much as you can. 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 277 
 
 In Christendom we are pushed about, 
 Hard pressed and almost crowded out. 
 
 Prof. B. Welcome, dear sirs, but I'll say right soon. 
 Your visit is not quite opportune. 
 For a party of friends awaiteth me. 
 
 John. Children of God they surely be, 
 
 And we will be glad to join you there! 
 
 Prof. B. I fear they would be shocked and stare ! 
 
 They are not accustomed, 'tis to be feared, 
 To flowing garments and untrimmed beard. 
 Nor are beasts admitted as visitors, 
 They would be driven out of doors. 
 
 Matt. In former days 'twas custom thus. 
 
 Since Christ, our Lord, appointed us. 
 
 Prof. B. Tut, tut ! that can't be helped, and so 
 You can not to the party go. 
 
 Mark. But tell me, what do you expect ? 
 
 Prof.B. I will be brief and quite direct: 
 
 Your writings are, I must confess, 
 
 Just like your beards and like your dress ; 
 
 Or like old dollars, no longer at par, 
 
 Whose mint-stamps at a discount are. 
 
 Were they re-coined with copper alloy. 
 
 All people would take them at par with joy. 
 
 Thus you, if you wish to count again, 
 
 And be acceptable to men. 
 
 You must become like one of us, 
 
 Beard trimmed, well dressed and smooth, — just thus! 
 
 In modern fashion and debonair, 
 
 That changes at once the whole affair. 
 
 Luke, the artist. 1 see myself in such a dress! 
 
 Prof. B. You needn't go far for that, I guess. 
 My own will fit you ! 
 
 The Angel of Matt. What a sight ! 
 
 An evangelist in such a plight I 
 
 Matt. St. John has bidden us adieu, 
 
 And brother Mark is leaving too. 
 
 (Luke's ox comes too close to Bahrdt and steps on him.) 
 Prof. B. Call off that beast that belongs to thee. 
 Not even a lap-dog accompanies me. 
 
 Luke. I will go hence, for as I see, 
 
 This house won't suit our company. 
 
278 GOETHE. 
 
 (Exeunt the four evangelists and their train.) 
 
 Mrs. B. What manners ! I am glad they quit ! 
 Prof. B. Their writings shall me pay for it. 
 
 {Die Frau Professorin tritt auf im Puts, den Mantel umwerfend. Bahrdt sitzt 
 am Pult, gam angezogen, und schreibt.) 
 
 Frau Bahrdt. So komm denn, Kind ! Die Gesellschaft im Garten 
 Wird gewiss auf uns mit dem Kaffee warten. 
 
 Bahrdt. Da kam mir ein Einfall von ungefahr. 
 (Sein gcschrieben Blatt ansehend.) 
 So redt' icli, wenn ich Christus war' : 
 
 Frau Bahrdt. Was kommt ein Getrappel die Trepp' herauf?- 
 
 Bahrdt. s'ist arger als ein Studentenhauf. 
 
 Das ist ein Besuch auf alien Vieren. 
 
 Frau Bahrdt. Gott behijt ! 's ist der Tritt von Thieren. 
 
 (Die vier Evangelisten treten herein. Die Frau Doktorin thut einen Schrei. 
 Matthdus mit dem Engel; Markus, begleitet vom Lowen; Lukas, vom 
 Ochsen; Johannes, iiber ihm der Adler.) 
 
 Matthdus. Wir horen, Du bist ein Biedermann 
 Und nimmst Dich unsers Herren an; 
 Uns wird die Christenheit zu enge; 
 Wir sind jetzt iiberall im Gedrange. 
 
 Bahrdt. Willkomm, Ihr Herrn ! Doch thut mir's leid, 
 Ihr kommt zur ungelegnen Zeit : 
 Muss eben in Gesellschaft 'nein. 
 
 Johannes. Das warden Kinder Gottes sein ; 
 Wir wollen uns mit dir ergetzen. 
 
 Bahrdt. Die Leute wtirden sich entsetzen ; 
 
 Sie sind nicht gewohnt solche Barte breit 
 Und die Rocke so lang und Falten so weit; 
 Und Eure Bestien, muss ich sagen, 
 Wiirde jeder Andre zur Thiir 'naus jagen. 
 
 Matthdus Das gait doch AUes auf der Welt, 
 Seitdem uns unser Herr bestellt. 
 
 Bahrdt. Das kann mir weiter nichts bedeuten ; 
 
 G'nug, so nehm ich Euch nicht zu Leuten. 
 
 Markus. Und wie und was verlangst denn Du ? 
 
 Bahrdt. Dass ich's Euch kiirzlich sagen thu' : 
 Es ist mit Eurer Schriften Art, 
 Mit Euern Falten und Euerm Bart 
 Wie mit den alten Thalern schwer — 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 279 
 
 Das Silber fein geprobet sehr, 
 
 Und gelten dennoch jetzt nicht melir. 
 
 Ein kluger Fiirst, der miinzt sie ein 
 
 Und thut ein tikhtigs Kupfer drein; 
 
 Da mag's denn wieder fort kursiren ! 
 
 So miisst Ihr auch, wollt Ihr ruliren, 
 
 Euch in Gesellschaft produziren, 
 
 So miisst Ilir werden wie Unsereiner, 
 
 Geputzt, gestutzt, glatt— 's gilt sonst Keiner. 
 
 Im seidnen Mantel und Kraglein flink, 
 
 Das ist doch gar ein ander Ding! 
 
 Lukas der Maler. Mocht' mich in dem Kostume sehn! 
 
 Bahrdt. Da braucht Ihr gar nicht weit zu gehn, 
 Hab' just noch einen ganzen Ornat. 
 
 DerEngelMatthai. Das war' mir ein Evangelisten-Staat ! 
 Kommt ! — 
 
 Matthaus. Johannes ist schon weggeschhchen 
 
 Und Bruder Markus niit entwichen. 
 
 {Des Lukas Ochs kommt Bahrdten au nah, er tritt nach ihm.) 
 
 Bahrdt. Schafft ab ztierst das garstig' Thier ! 
 
 Nehni' ich doch kauni ein Hiindlein mit mir. 
 
 Lukas. Mogen gar nicht weiter verkehren mit Dir. 
 {Die Evangelisten mit ihrem Gefolge ab.) 
 
 Frau Bahrdt. Die Kerls nehmen keine Lebensart an. 
 Bahrdt. Komm ! 's soUen ihre Schriften dran ! 
 
 ii 
 
 This humorous scene contrasts the modern professor of theol- 
 ogy who puts on style and belongs to society with the original 
 roughness of the four evangelists. 
 
 Goethe objects to the higher criticism not from the standpoint 
 of orthodoxy, but for purely literary reasons. He dislikes to 
 have the Gospels modernized, because he prefers them to remain 
 rugged, and even sometimes crude, as in part they are, for the 
 same reason that he objects to a critical dissection of Homer. 
 He prefers to enjoy a literary document of the past in its own 
 native originality. 
 
 Bahrdt was not offended by Goethe's criticism, and every 
 reader will feel that the satire is good-natured and does not 
 contain any bitterness. In this it stands in sharp contrast to other 
 very venomous criticisms of Bahrdt's works. 
 
280 GOETHE. 
 
 When Professor Bahrdt left Giessen in 1775 to settle in 
 Marschlinz in Graubiinden, he traveled by way of Weimar for 
 the special purpose of calling on Goethe. In his conversation 
 with the great poet he spoke jokingly about the satire and ex- 
 pressed the wish to preserve a good entente with his genial critic. 
 
 We may add that Goethe's objection to men like Wolf, the 
 philologist, and Bahrdt, the. rationalist, was to a great extent 
 unjust or at least one-sided, for we need critique and negation, 
 not as an end, but as a means to find a better and truer affirma- 
 tion. This onesidedness may be the reason why the poem has 
 been overlooked and almost forgotten. Liberals did not care 
 to quote it, and dogmatists knew very well that Goethe's objec- 
 tion to higher criticism was not prompted by orthodox loyalty. 
 But the poem is characteristic of Goethe's positivism which con- 
 demned negativism in both parties, liberals and dogmatists. 
 
 In a brief poem entitled "The Critic," Goethe vents his wrath 
 in these lines : 
 
 I had a fellow as my guest -^ . » 
 
 Not knowing he was such a pest, ' - 
 
 And gave him just my usual fare; 
 
 He ate his fill of what was there, 
 
 And for dessert my best things swallowed, 
 
 Soon as his meal was o'er, what followed? 
 
 Led by the Deuce, to a neighbor he went, 
 
 And talked of my food to his heart's content. 
 
 "The soup might surely have had more spice, 
 
 The meat was ill-browned, the wine wasn't nice." 
 
 A thousand curses alight on his head ! 
 
 'Tis a critic, I vow ! Let the dog be struck dead !" 
 
 — Tr. after Bowring. 
 
 [Da hatt' ich einen Kerl zu Gast, 
 
 Er war mir eben nicht zur Last; 
 
 Ich hatt' just mein gewohnlich Essen, 
 
 Hat sich der Kerl pumpsatt gefressen, 
 
 Zum Nachtisch, was ich gespeichert hatt'. 
 
 Und kaum ist mir der Kerl so satt, 
 
 Thut ihn der Teufel zum Nachbar fiihren 
 
 Ueber mein Essen zu rasonniren: 
 
 "Die Supp' hatt' konnen gewiirzter sein, 
 
 Der Braten brauner, firner der Wein." 
 
 Der Tausendsakerment ! 
 
 Schlagt ihn todt, den Hund ! Es ist ein Recensent.] 
 
LITERATURE AND CRITICISM. 
 
 281 
 
 Critics are mere yelpers, says Goethe in another poem, and 
 their barking only proves that the person barked at is their 
 superior in attainments or positiori. 
 
 Our rides in all directions bend, 
 For business or for pleasure, 
 Yet yelpings on our steps attend. 
 And barkings without measure. 
 The dog that in our stable dwells, 
 After our heels is striding, 
 And all the while his noisy yells 
 But show that we are riding. 
 
 — Tr. after Bowring. 
 
 [Wir reiten in die Kreuz' und Quer' 
 
 Nach Freuden und Geschaften; 
 
 Doch immer klafft es hinterher 
 
 Und billt aus alien Kraften. 
 
 So will der Spitz aus unserm Stall 
 
 Uns immerfort begleiten, 
 
 Und seines Bellens lauter Schall 
 
 Beweis't nur, dass wir reiten.] 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 GOETHE described characteristic attitudes of himself in all 
 his heroes. He possessed a streak of Werther's pessimism, 
 of Goetz's romanticism, of Tasso's impatience, of Egmont's 
 gaiety and overconfidence, of Wilhelm Meister's eagerness for 
 self -development, etc., but in Faust the poet revealed the most 
 intimate aspirations of his own being and of the destiny he felt 
 to be his ov4rn; and this is true even if we grant that Faust in- 
 corporates many striking resemblances to Gottfried Herder, as 
 Dr. Giinther Jacoby has attempted to prove. For this reason 
 it may be truly said that Goethe's main work is his "Faust," 
 which he had begun in his early youth and finished at an ad- 
 vanced age. 
 
 lyike Prometheus, Faust is of a Titanic cast of mind. He does 
 not bow to God nor does he fear the Evil One. He cares not for 
 his fate in this world nor in the next. He possesses unusual 
 strength of mind. Him the thought of heaven does not allure, 
 nor hell terrify. His inborn desire, even when he seems to sur- 
 render it, at bottom remains to 
 
 "... .detect the inmost force 
 ' 'Which binds the world, and guides its course.'' 
 
 [Dass ich erkenne, was die Welt 
 Im Innersten zusammenhalt.] 
 
 Faust is anxious to dare and to do. He does not shrink from 
 danger, or shipwreck. He will share the fate common to all 
 "mankind, will enjoy life's pleasures but also willingly endure 
 its pain. He is a man, and though he wishes to be a man in the 
 full sense of the word, he does not want to be anything else. 
 When Faust sees the symbol of the Earth-Spirit he exclaims: 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 283 
 
 How otherwise upon me works this sign ! 
 
 Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: 
 
 Even now my powers are loftier, clearer ; 
 
 I glow, as drunk with new-made wine; 
 
 New strength and heart I feel to do and dare, 
 
 The pain of life and all its joys to share. 
 
 And though the shock of storms may smite me. 
 
 No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright'me!" 
 
 [Wie anders wirkt dies Zeichen auf mich ein! 
 
 Du, Geist der Erde, bist mir naher; 
 
 Schon fiihl' ich raeine Kriifte hoher, 
 
 Schon gliih' ich wie von neuem Wein. 
 
 Ich fiihle Muth, mich in die Welt zu wagen, 
 
 Der Erde Weh, der Erde Gluck zu tragen, 
 
 Mit Stiirmen mich herumzuschlagen 
 
 Und in des Schiffbruch's Knirschen nicht zu zagen.] 
 
 This endeavor to be a man with men is expressed again when 
 Faust has concluded his contract with Mephistopheles : 
 
 My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated. 
 Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, 
 Whatever then to all mankind be fated 
 Shall be within mine inmost being tested : 
 The highest, lowest forms I mean to borrow. 
 And heap upon myself their bliss and sorrow. 
 And thus my own soul to all else expanded. 
 With all the others shall at last be stranded! 
 
 [Mein Busen, der vom Wissensdrang geheilt ist. 
 Soil keinen Schmerzen kiinftig sich verschliessen, 
 Und was der ganzen Menschheit zugetheilt ist, 
 Will ich in meinem innern Selbst geniessen, 
 Mit meinem Geist das Hochst' und Tiefste greifen, 
 Ihr Wohl und Weh auf meinen Busen haufen, 
 Und so mein eigen Selbst zu ihrem Selbst erweitern, 
 Und, wie sie selbst, am End' auch ich zerscheitern.] 
 
 The Faust of the folk-legend represents the spirit of the Ref- 
 ormation with all it implies, the dawn of natural science and the 
 re-awakening of the humanities. He studies in Wittenberg, the 
 university of Luther, and his very name identifies him with 
 Faustus, the companion of Gensfleisch-Gutenberg, the inventor 
 of the black art of printing. Further he represents the Renais- 
 sance, the revival of a study of the classics together with Greek 
 art and its noble ideals, pagan though they were. This is sym- 
 bolized in the figure of Helen, the type of beauty whom Faust 
 
284 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 WITCHES CELEBRATING WALPURGIS NIGHT. 
 By Franz Simtn. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 285 
 
 makes visible to the eyes of his audience. Incidentally Faust 
 also shows his sympathy with the ancient Teutonic paganism by 
 participating in the witches' festival that is celebrated in the 
 Walpurgis night on the Brocken. But this is not all. Faust is 
 an inquirer into the secrets of nature. In this he bears a resem- 
 blance to Roger Bacon who in a lecture before the students of 
 Paris imitated the rainbow by letting a ray of light pass through 
 a prism, the result being that his audience rose in a general up- 
 roar shouting that he practised magic and was in league with 
 the Evil One. In compliance with the popular belief of the age, 
 Goethe actually represents Faust as a past-master in the art of 
 magic. The Faust of the folk-legend visits foreign countries by 
 magic means, and performs most wonderful feats;, so we may 
 say that he incorporates also the spirit of the bold explorers and 
 navigators who in scorn of danger crossed the unknown seas, 
 opened new regions to commerce and brought back to their home 
 the wealth of distant countries. 
 
 Faust typifies aspiring mankind and has his predecessors in 
 all those characters of history, literature and legend who find 
 no satisfaction in their surroundings but dare destiny to yield 
 to them pleasanter, better, nobler conditions with a richer and 
 deeper life. Thus Faust embodies all those features which Goethe 
 himself endeavored to acquire and which he possessed in a high 
 degree. 
 
 Goethe's interest in the traditional Faust-character showed 
 itself very intensely in his study of magic lore, and we know of 
 a period in his life when he gave himself up to alchemy, astrology 
 and kindred pseudo-sciences as if he believed in their teachings. 
 
 In "Faust" his love of mysticism comes out prominently and 
 he did not study the mystics without being fascinated by the 
 poetry of their views. So, for instance, the profound conception 
 of the soul as a microcosm he derived from Giovanni Pico, Count 
 of Mirandola. 
 
 This interesting personality was born on February 24, 1463, 
 and died November 17, 1494. He was a prominent young 
 Italian nobleman of fine figure and beautiful face, highly edu- 
 cated not only in Greek and Latin, but also in Hebrew, Arabic 
 and Chaldean. Having studied two years in Bologna when only 
 
286 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 PICO DI MIRANDOLA. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 287 
 
 fourteen or fifteen years old, he began his Wanderjahre which 
 lasted seven years, visiting the learned schools of Italy and 
 France. His philosophy may be characterized as Platonism 
 reconciled with the doctrines of Aristotle; but his dominant 
 interest was centered in mysticism, and he was the first to main- 
 tain that the truth of the Christian doctrines could be proved 
 through the Cabala. Though he was a good Christian his ene- 
 mies threw the suspicion of heresy upon him, and his first little 
 book of nine hundred theses was prohibited by papal authority. 
 But after the publication of an elaborate Apologia Pope Alexan- 
 der VI declared him vindicated in a document dated June 18, 
 1493. In his twenty-eighth year he wrote the Heptaphis and at 
 this time suddenly changed his habits of life. Having formerly 
 been a favorite with women, he now burned all his love poems 
 and became an ascetic. He renounced his share in the princi- 
 pality of Mirandola, gave richly to the poor and devoted most 
 of his time to religious mecUtation. When he would have fin- 
 ished his literary labors he intended to give away all his property 
 and wander as a bare- footed friar from town to town proclaim- 
 ing salvation through Christ. But before he could carry out this 
 plan he died of a fever at Florence in his thirty-first year. So 
 far as is known he was the first to coin the word "macrocosm" 
 denoting the whole of the world, which is described so beautifully 
 in the first scene of Goethe's "Faust," where Faust revels in the 
 contemplation of its sign, saying: 
 
 Ha ! what a rapture leaps from this I view. . . . 
 How each the whole its substance gives, 
 Each in the other works and lives ! 
 
 [Ha, welche Wonne fliesst in diesem Blick 
 
 Wie alles sich zum Ganzen webt, 
 Eins in dem Andern wirkt und lebt !] 
 
 Bayard Taylor in his Notes makes the following interesting 
 comment on this monologue of Faust when he beholds the sign 
 
 of the macrocosm : 
 
 "The term 'macrocosm' was used by Pico di Mirandola, 
 Paracelsus and other mystical writers, to denote the universe. 
 They imagined a mysterious correspondence between the macro- 
 
288 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 cosm (the world in large) and the microcosm (the world in 
 little), or man; and most of the astrological theories were based 
 on the influence of the former upon the latter. From some of 
 Goethe's notes, still in existence, we learn that during, the time 
 when the conception of Faust first occupied his mind (1770-73), 
 he read Welling's Opus Mago-Cabhalisticwm, Paracelsus, Valen- 
 tinus, the Aurea Catena Homeri, and even the Latin poet Mani- 
 lius. 
 
 "Mr. Blackie, in his Notes, quotes a description of the macro- 
 
 FAUST BEHOLDING THE EMBLEM OF THE MACROCOSM. 
 After P. Rembrandt. 
 
 cosm from a Latin work of Robert Fludd, published at Oppen- 
 heim in 1619; but the theory had already been given in the 
 Heptaplw of Pico di Mirandola (about 1490). The universe, 
 according to him, consists of three worlds, the earthly, the 
 heavenly, and the super-heavenly. The first includes our planet 
 and its enveloping space, as far as the orbit of the moon; the 
 second, the sun and stars; the third, the governing divine in- 
 fluences. The same phenomena belong to each, but have different 
 grades of manifestation. Thus the physical element of fire 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 289 
 
 exists in the earthly sphere, the warmth of the sun in the heav- 
 enly, and a seraphic, spiritual fire in the empyrean; the first 
 burns, the second quickens, the third loves. 'In addition to these 
 three w^orlds (the macrocosm),' says Pico, 'there is a fourth 
 (the microcosm), containing all embraced within them. This 
 is man, in whom are included a body formed of the elements, a 
 heavenly spirit, reason, an angelic soul, and a resemblance to 
 God.' 
 
 "The work of Cornelius Agrippa, De occulta philosophia, 
 which was also known to Goethe, contains many references to 
 these three divisions of the macrocosm, and their reciprocal in- 
 fluences. The latter are described in the passage commencing: 
 'How each the Whole its substance gives!' 
 
 "Hayward quotes, as explanatory of these lines, the following 
 sentence from Herder's Idccn ::iir Philosophie dcr Geschichte 
 der Mcnschhcit:- 'When, therefore, I open the great book of 
 Heaven, and see before me this measureless palace, which alone, 
 and everywhere, the Godhead only has power to fill, I conclude, 
 as undistractedly as I can, from the whole to the particular, and 
 from the particular to the whole.' 
 
 "The four lines which Faust apparently quotes ('What says 
 the sage, now first I recognize') are not from Nostradamus. 
 They may possibly have been suggested by something in Jacob 
 Boehme's first work, 'Aurora, or the Rising Dawn,' but it is not 
 at all necessary that they should be an actual quotation." 
 
 Faust despairs of the possibility of knowledge and the useful- 
 ness of science. This, however, means the pseudo-science of 
 magic, the occulta scientia, that great hope of the scientists of 
 the Middle Ages. Faust says : 
 
 I've studied now Philosophy [Habe nun, ach, Philosophie, 
 
 And Jurisprudence, Medicine, — Juristerei und Medizin 
 
 And even, alas! Theology,— Und leider auch Theologie 
 
 From end to end, with labor keen; Durchaus studirt, mit heissem Be- 
 
 And here, poor fool ! with all my lore miihn ! 
 
 I stand, no wiser than before : Da steh' ich nun, ich armer Thor, 
 
 I'm Magister— yea, Doctor— hight, Und bin so klug als wie zuvor; 
 
 And straight or cross-wise, wrong or Heisse Magister, heisse Doktor gar 
 
 right, Und ziehe schon an die zehen Jahr' 
 
 These ten years long, with many woes, Herauf, herab und quer und krumm 
 
 I've led my scholars by the nose,— Meine Schiiler an der Nase herum— 
 
290 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 FAUST IN HIS STUDY. 
 By A. von Kreling. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 291 
 
 And see that nothing can be known 1 Und sehe, dass wir nichts wissen kon- 
 Forsooth, that cuts me to the bone. nen. 
 
 Das will mir schier das Herz ver- 
 brennen.] 
 
 In his conversation with Wagner he exclaims (Scene II) : 
 
 I O happy he, who still renews 
 
 I The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever! 
 
 I That which one does not know, one needs to use ; 
 
 \ And what one knows, one uses never. 
 
 [O gliicklich, wer noch hoffen kann, 
 Aus diesem Meer des Irrthums aufzutauchen ! 
 Was man nicht weiss, das eben brauchte man, 
 Und was man weiss, kann man nicht braucheh.] 
 
 Faust's despondency recalls an actual fact in the life of 
 Agrippa von Nettesheim, one of his prototypes who, having 
 written a large work Dc occulta scicntia, wrote a book at the 
 end of his career which bore the title De vanitate scientiaruni. 
 
 If science fails, if knowledge is impossible, and if reason can 
 not be relied upon, mankind is left without a guide. Hence 
 Faust's despair is well supplemented by the cynical advice which 
 Mephistopheles gives to the student. These comments are full 
 of satire, criticising the actual conditions of the sciences as 
 practised by mediocre and self-seeking men. 
 
 Overcome by. his despondency Faust is disgusted with the 
 search for knowledge and sunply wishes to be a man among 
 men, expecting thereby to quench the thirst of his soul with 
 the inane vanities of Hfe with which common people are satis- 
 fied^ In this frame of mind he concludes his pact with Meph- 
 istopheles which is important for the comprehension of Goethe's 
 plan, and we should notice the very words of the condition under 
 which Faust accepts the service of Mephistopheles and forfeits 
 his soul in the next world. Since the scene is of such significance 
 we quote its most important passage as follows : 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Wilt thou to me entrust 
 
 Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee,— 
 
 Will willingly walk beside thee, — 
 
292 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES AND THE STUDENT. 
 By A. Liezen-Mayer. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 293 
 
 Will serve thee at once and forever 
 
 With best endeavor, 
 
 And, if thou art satisfied. 
 
 Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 And what shall be my counter-service therefor? 
 
 MEPH ISTOPHELES. 
 
 The time is long : thou needst not now insist. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 No — no ! The Devil is an egotist. 
 And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, 
 "For God's sake," others to assist. 
 Speak thy conditions plain and clear ! 
 With such a servant danger comes, I fear. 
 
 MEPH ISTOPHELES. 
 
 Here, an unwearied slave, I'll wear thy tether. 
 And to thine every nod obedient be ; 
 When There again we come together, 
 Then shalt thou do the same for me. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 The There my scruples nought increases. 
 
 When thou hast dashed this world to pieces. 
 
 The other, then, its place may fill. 
 
 Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; 
 
 Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; 
 
 And when from these my life itself divorces, 
 
 Let happen all that can or will ! 
 
 I'll hear no more; 't is vain to ponder 
 
 If there we cherish love or hate. 
 
 Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, 
 
 A High and Low our souls await. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 In this sense, even, canst thou venture. 
 Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, 
 And thou mine arts with joy shalt see : 
 What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever 
 When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, 
 E'er understood by such as thou? 
 Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now— 
 The restless, ruddy gold hast thou. 
 
294 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES AT THE DOOR OF FAUST'S STUDY. 
 By A. Liezen-Mayer. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 295 
 
 That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through, — 
 
 A game whose winnings no man ever knew, — 
 
 A maid, that, even from my breast, 
 
 Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, 
 
 And Honor's godlike zest. 
 
 The meteor .that a moment dances, — 
 
 Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, 
 
 And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Such a demand alarms me not: 
 
 Such treasures have I, and can show them. 
 
 SIGNING THE CONTRACT. 
 By Franz Simm. 
 
 But still the time may reach us, good my friend, 
 When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. 
 There let, at once, my record end! 
 Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, 
 
296 GOETHE. 
 
 Until, self-pleased, myself I see, — 
 Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me. 
 Let that day be the last for me ! 
 The bet I offer. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Done! 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 And heartily! 
 When thus I hail the moment flying: 
 "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair!" 
 Then bind me in thy bonds undying, 
 My final ruin then declare I 
 Then let the death-bell chime the token, 
 Then art thou from thy service free! 
 The clock may stop, the hand be broken, 
 Then Time be finished unto me ! 
 
 [MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Doch willst Du mit mir vereint 
 
 Deine Schritte durchs Leben nehmen. 
 
 So will ich mich gern bequemen, 
 
 Dein zu sein auf der Stelle. 
 
 Ich bin Dein Geselle, 
 
 Und mach' ich Dir's recht. 
 
 Bin ich Dein Diener, bin Dein Knecht ! 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Und was soil ich dagegen Dir erfiillen? 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Dazu hast Du noch eine lange Frist. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Nein, nein ! Der Teufel ist ein Egpist 
 
 Und thut nicht leicht um Gottes willen, ' 
 
 Was einem Andern nutzlich ist. 
 
 Sprich die Bedingung deutlich aus; 
 
 Ein solcher Diener bringt Gefahr in's Haus. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 lich will mich hier zu Deinem Dienst verbinden, 
 Auf Deinen Wink nicht rasten und nicht ruhn; 
 Wenn wir uns driiben wiederfinden, 
 So sollst Du mir das Gleiche thun. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Das Driiben kann mich wenig kiimmern ; 
 Schlagst Du erst diese Welt zu Triimmern, 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 297 
 
 Die andre mag darnach entslchn. 
 Aus dieser Erde quillen meine Freuden, 
 Und diese Sonne scheinet meinen Leiden ; 
 Kann ich mich erst von ihnen scheiden, 
 Dann mag, was will und kann, geschehn. 
 Davon will ich nichts weiter horen, 
 Ob man audi kiinftig hasst und liebt, 
 Und ob es audi in jenen Spharen 
 Ein Oben oder Unten giebt. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 In diesem Sinne kannst Du's wagen. 
 Verbinde Didi; Du sollst in diesen Tagen 
 Mit Freuden meine Kiinste sehn. 
 Ich gebe Dir, was noch kein Mensch gesehn. 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Was willst Du armer Teufel geben? 
 
 Ward eines Menschen Geist in seinem hohen Streben 
 
 Von Deinesgleichen je gefasst? 
 
 Doch hast Du Speise, die nicht sattigt, hast 
 
 Du rothes Gold, das ohne Rast, 
 
 Quecksilber gleich, Dir in der Hand zerrinnt, 
 
 Ein Spiel, bei dem man nie gewinnt, 
 
 Ein Madchen, das an meiner Brust 
 
 Mit Aeugeln schon dem Nachbar sich verbindet, 
 
 Der Ehre schone Gotterlust, 
 
 Die wie ein Meteor verschwindet. 
 
 Zeig mir die Frucht, die fault, eh man sie bricht, 
 
 Und Baume, die sich taglich neu begrunen ! 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Ein solcher Auftrag schreckt mich nicht, 
 Mit solchen Schatzen kann ich dienen. 
 Doch, guter Freund, die Zeit kommt auch heran. 
 Wo wir was Gut's in Ruhe schmausen mogen. 
 
 Werd' ich beruhigt je mich auf ein Faulbett legen, 
 
 So sei es gleich um mich gethan ! 
 
 Kannst Du mich schmeichelnd je beliigen, 
 
 Dass ich mir selbst gefallen mag, 
 
 Kannst Du mich mit Genuss betrugen: 
 
 Das sei fiir mich der letzte Tag! 
 
 Die Wette biet' ich! 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Top! 
 
298 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Und Schlag auf Schlag! 
 Werd' ich zum Augenblicke sagen: 
 Verweile doch ! Du bist so schon ! 
 Dann magst Du mich in Fesseln schlagen, 
 Daiin will ich gern zu Grunde gelin ! 
 Dann mag die Todtenglocke schallen, 
 Dann bist Du Deines Dienstes frei, 
 Die Uhr mag stehn, der Zeiger fallen, 
 Es sei die Zeit fiir mich vorbei!] 
 
 At the time when the Faust legend took shape nothing extra- 
 ordinary could be done except with the help of the Evil One, 
 
 FAUST'S LAST HOURS AND DEATH. 
 
 and the reckless and wicked men who obtained such assistance 
 were doomed to eternal damnation. According to the original 
 plan of the Faust-legend, Faust was indeed lost, for the old folk- 
 lore story is written from the standpoint of orthodox Catholicism. 
 It makes Faust conclude his pact with the Devil without any 
 
STUDYING BLACK MAGIC. CONJURING THE DEVIL. 
 
 SOME PLEASANTRIES OF MIRACLES AND CONJURA- 
 
 BLACK MAGIC. TION. 
 
 After Scheible's reproductions from Widmann's Faust. 
 
300 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 alternative, and when the time is up, his soul is forfeited and the 
 Devil carries him away to hell. 
 
 It is strange, however, that Protestant writers took a greater 
 interest in the story than Catholics. Perhaps they felt that the 
 problem of the man who risked even the salvation of his soul for 
 the sake of expanding his knowledge of and control over the 
 powers of nature touched their own experience. 
 
 The first and most extensive treatment of the Faust legend is 
 that of the Volksbuch^ which was dramatized by Marlowe, 
 
 FAUST CONJURING MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Shakespeare's famous contemporary. We here reproduce a rare 
 print published as a title vignette in the first edition of Marlowe's 
 drama representing Faust conjuring the Devil. 
 
 During the period of Storm and Stress almost every German 
 poet treated the legend of Faust, and the best known of these 
 
 '■ For details of the Faust legend as treated by Marlowe and in the Volks- 
 buch see the author's History of the Devil, pp. 422-429. , 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 301 
 
 versions is the drama by Klinger, a powerful play, but not with- 
 out the faults of the vigorous but immature spirits of his time. 
 Lessing wrote a "Faust" which by an unfortunate accident was 
 lost in the mails. A synopsis of his plan is contained in his Col- 
 lected Works. Lenau's "Faust" is not very remarkable but it 
 is still known and read. 
 
 The motive of Faust's relation to Mephistopheles is taken 
 from the old legend of Theophilus who in his ambition to excel 
 all others in fame and ecclesiastical dignity makes a contract 
 with the Devil, but repents, does penance and is finally saved by 
 the intercession of the Virgin Mary, who compels the Devil to 
 surrender his claim to the soul of Theophilus. The lesson of 
 this legend on the one hand is to warn good Christians to beware 
 of the Devil who is on the qui vive to catch the souls even of the 
 saints, and on the other hand to declare the unlimited power of 
 the Church to rescue from distress and to save the pious from the 
 very clutches of Satan. 
 
 The Theophilus legend was a favorite story with pious 
 Christians throughout the Middle Ages, and we have a thirteenth 
 century manuscript illuminated by Monk Conrad of the Scheiern 
 monastery which is now preserved in the Library of Munich. 
 The pictui^e reproduced from this medieval book shows first how 
 Theophilus is prompted by the Devil of Vanity to give alms. 
 Repenting the contract he had made, he is shown in the second 
 picture praying to the Virgin Mary. In the third picture he 
 does penance and an angel delivers to him the handwriting of 
 the contract. In the fourth picture he confesses to the bishop 
 and delivers into his hands the document restored to him by the 
 grace of Mary. 
 
 But while there is hope for a man like Theophilus who con- 
 fesses his sin, repents, seeks the assistance of the Church, sub- 
 mits to discipline and does penance, there is no salvation for 
 Faust, the representative of Protestantism. He has cut himself 
 loose from the Church that alone can save, and so he foregoes 
 the advantage of the Church's means of grace. Marlowe and all 
 the many other poets who dramatized the Faust legend before 
 Goethe adopt the principle of the old folk-lore story that regards 
 
302 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Faust as lost and quite beyond redemption. Even Goethe's 
 original intention had been the same. In the prison scene Faust 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THEOPHILUS. 
 comes to the rescue of Gretchen but finds her in a dreadful state 
 of insanity. He urges her to leave, but she answers : 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 303 
 
 GRETCHEN IN PRISON. 
 By Franz Simm. 
 
304 GOETHE. 
 
 If the grave is there, [1st das Grab drauss, 
 
 Death lying in wait, then come! Lauert der Tod, so.komm! 
 
 From here to eternal rest: Von hier ins ewige Ruhebett, 
 
 No further step — no, no ! Und waiter keinen Schfitt — ] 
 
 Faust tries first persuasion and then force ; she does not yield 
 but stays. In the meantime day dawns and when Mephistopheles 
 calls Faust, "Hither to me!" he goes leaving Gretchen to her 
 doom. This conclusion of the first part was intended to indicate 
 that while Gretchen's soul is purified Faust remains under the 
 influence of Mephistopheles. 
 
 Yet Goethe had made Faust too human, too ideally human, 
 not to have that redeeming feature which would make his eternal 
 perdition impossible. It is true, he goes astray and is implicated 
 in crimes. He becomes guilty of the death of Valentine although 
 he slays him merely in self-defense. He is accessory to the death 
 of Gretchen, the mother, as well as of her baby. Faust is not a 
 criminal, but his wretched, behavior implicates him in guilt; and 
 yet not otherwise than is indicated in the stanza of the harper in 
 "Wilhelm Meister," the venerable protector of Mignon, who 
 sings : 
 
 Who never ate with tears his bread. 
 
 Who never through night's heavy hours 
 
 Sat weeping on his lonely bed, — 
 He know's you not, ye heavenly powers ! 
 
 Through you the paths of life we gain, 
 
 Ye let poor mortals go astray, 
 And then abandon them to pain, — 
 
 Since man the penalty must pay. 
 
 [Wer nie sein Brod mit Thranen ass, 
 
 Wer nie die kummervollen Nachte 
 
 Auf seinem Bette weinend sass, 
 
 Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Machte! 
 
 Ihr fiihrt in's Leben uns hinein, 
 Ihr lasst den Armen schuldig werden, 
 Dann iiberlasst ihr ihn der Pein: 
 Denn alle Schuld racht sich auf Erden.] 
 
 Protestantism is a protest against the narrowness of the 
 medieval Church. It is a negation of the old, and Faust likewise 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 305 
 
 is a destructive spirit. He boldly curses everything which be- 
 guiles him with false illusions. He exclaims : 
 
 Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar, — 
 The highest favor Love lets fall! 
 Cursed, also, Hope!— cursed Faith, the spectre! 
 And cursed be Patience most of all I 
 
 [Fluch sei dem Balsamsaft der Trauben! 
 Fluch jener hochsten Liebeshuld ! 
 Fluch sei der Hoffnung! Fluch dem Glauben, 
 Und Fluch vor Allen der Geduld !] 
 
 Faust destroys his old ideals, but he feels in himself the 
 power to build them up again, and this is expressed by the chorus 
 of spirits who sing: 
 
 Woe! Woe! [Weh ! Weh! 
 
 Thou hast it destroyed, Du hast sie zerstort. 
 
 The beautiful world. Die schone Welt, 
 
 With powerful fist: Mit machtiger Faust; 
 
 In ruin 't is hurled, Sie sturzt, sie zerfallt ! 
 
 By the blow of a demi-god shattered ! Ein Halbgott hat sie zerschlagen ! 
 
 The scattered Wir tragen 
 
 Fragments into the Void we carry, Die Triimmern ins Nichts hiniiber 
 
 Deploring Und klagen 
 
 The beauty perished beyond restoring. Ueber die verlorne Schone. 
 
 Mightier Machtiger 
 
 For the children of men, Der Erdensohne, 
 
 Brightlier Prachtiger 
 
 Build it again, Baue sie wieder. 
 
 In thine own bosom build it anew ! In Deinem Busen baue sie auf ! 
 
 Bid the new career Neuen Lebenslauf 
 
 Commence, Beginne 
 
 With clearer sense, Mit hellem Sinne, 
 
 And the new songs of cheer Und neue Lieder 
 
 Be sung thereto! Tonen darauf !] 
 
 Goethe felt that the bold progressiveness of science and the 
 insatiate aspiration of the spirit of invention to make the powers 
 of nature subservient to the needs of man, could not be sin. The 
 courage of a man who truly says to himself, "Nor hell nor Devil 
 can longer affright me," is evidence of his strength, his manli- 
 ness, his independence, and even the good Lord must cherish 
 respect for him.. Therefore in spite of all the errors into which 
 
306 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 he might fall, Faust can not be lost. To err is human. Says the 
 good Lord in the Prologue: 
 
 While man's desires and aspirations stir, 
 He cannot clioose but err. 
 
 [Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt.] 
 
 trU 
 
 SATAN ACCUSING JOB. 
 Fresco by Volterra in the Campo Santo at Pisa. 
 
 But error is the inheritance of the human race. Adds the 
 Lord : 
 
 A good man through obscurest aspiration 
 Has still an instinct of the one true way. 
 
 [Ein guter Mensch, in seinem dunkeln Drange, 
 1st sich des rechten Weges wohl bewusst.] 
 
 In this sense Goethe completed his "Faust" and justified the 
 final salvation of Faust's soul in the Prologue, the main passage 
 of which also deserves to be quoted in full. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 307 
 
 The scene opens with a doxology of the archangels who 
 praise creation, the sun, the earth, the magnificence of nature 
 and especially the still small voice which most of all reveals the 
 glory of God. As Satan appeared before God to accuse Job, so 
 Mephistopheles comes to the celestial assemblage. The scene 
 reads as follows : 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES BEFORE THE LORD. 
 By Franz Simm. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach agahi 
 
 And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, 
 
 And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, 
 
 Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. 
 
 Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after 
 
 With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned : 
 
 My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, 
 
308 GOETHE. 
 
 If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. 
 
 Of suns and worlds I've nothing to be quoted ; 
 
 How men torment themselves, is all I've noted. 
 
 The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way, 
 
 And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. 
 
 Life somewhat better might content him. 
 
 But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him : 
 
 He calls it Reason — thence his power's increased. 
 
 To be far beastlier than any beast. 
 
 Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me 
 
 A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, 
 
 That springing flies, and flying springs, 
 
 And in the grass the same old ditty sings. 
 
 Would he still lay among the grass he grows in ! 
 
 Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention ? 
 Com' St ever, thus, with ill intention? 
 Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally? 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 No, Lord ! I find thingSj there, still bad as they can be. 
 
 Man's misery even to pity moves my nature ; 
 
 I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. 
 
 Know'st Faust? 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 The Doctor Faust? 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 My servant, he! 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Forsooth ! He serves you after strange devices : 
 No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices : 
 His spirit's ferment far aspireth ; 
 Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest. 
 The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, 
 From Earth the highest raptures and the best, 
 And all the Near and Far that he desireth 
 Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Though still confused his service unto Me, 
 I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. 
 Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree. 
 Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 309 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 What will you bet? There's still a chance to gain him, 
 If unto me full leave you give, 
 Gently upon my road to train him ! 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 As long as he on earth shall live. 
 So long I make no prohibition. 
 While Man's desires and aspirations stir, 
 He cannot choose but err. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 My thanks \' I find the dead no acquisition, 
 
 And never cared to have them in my keeping, 
 
 I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping. 
 
 And when a corpse approaches, close my house : 
 
 In life is sport. Thus treats the cat the mouse. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Enough ! What thou hast asked is granted. 
 Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head ; 
 To trap him, let thy snares be planted, 
 Let him, with thee, be downward led; 
 Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: 
 A good man, through obscurest aspiration, 
 1 Has still an instinct of the one true way. 
 
 [ MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Da Du, o Herr, Dich einmal wieder nahst 
 
 Und fragst, wie Alles sich bei uns befinde, 
 
 Und Du mich sonst gewohnlich gerne sahst, 
 
 So siehst Du mich auch under dem Gesinde. 
 
 Verzeih, ich kann nicht hohe Worte machen, 
 
 Und wenn mich auch der ganze Kreis verhohnt; 
 
 Main Pathos brachte Dich gewiss zum Lachen, 
 
 Hattst Du Dir nicht das Lachen abgewohnt. 
 
 Von Sonn' und Welten weiss ich nichts zu sagen, 
 
 Ich sehe nur, wie sich die Menschen plagen. 
 
 Der kleine Gott der Welt bleibt stets von gleichem Schlag 
 
 Und ist so wunderlich als wie am ersten Tag. 
 
 Ein wenig besser wiird' er leben, 
 
 Hattst Du ihm nicht den Schein des Himmelslichts gegeben; 
 
 Er nennt's Vernunft und braucht's allein, 
 
 Nur thierischer als jedes Thier zu sein. 
 
 Er scheint mir, mit Verlaub von Euer Gnaden, 
 
 Wie eine der langbeinigen Zikaden, 
 
 Die immer fliegt und fliegend springt 
 
 " Mephistopheles expresses his thanks for permission to test Faust while 
 he still lives. 
 
310 GOETHE. 
 
 Und gleich im Gras ihr altes Liedchen singt. 
 Und lag' er nur noch immer in dem Grase! 
 In jeden Quark begrabt er seine Nase. 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 Hast Du mir weiter nichts zu sagen? 
 Kommst Du nur immer anzuklagen? 
 1st auf der Erde ewig Dir nichts recht? 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Nein, Herr, icli find' es dort, wie immer, herzlich sclilecht. 
 Die Mensclien dauern mich in ihren Jammertagen; 
 Ich mag sogar die armen selbst nicht plagen. 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 Kennst Du den Faust? 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Den Doktor? 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 Meinen Kneclit ! 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Furwahr, er dient Euch auf besondre Weise. 
 Nicht irdisch ist des Thoren Trank noch Speise; 
 Ihn treibt die Gahrung in die Feme, 
 Er ist sich seiner ToUheit halb bewusst : 
 Vom Himmel fordert er die schonsten Sterne 
 Und von der Erde jede hochste Lust, 
 Und alle Niih' und alle Feme 
 Befriedigt nicht die tiefbewegte Brust. 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 Wenn er mir jetzt auch nur verworren dient, 
 So ward' ich ihn bald in die Klarheit fiihren. 
 Weiss doch der Gartner, wenn das Baumchen griint, 
 Dass Bliith' und Frucht die kiinft'gen Jahre zieren. 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 Was wettet Ihr? Den sollt Ihr noch verlieren, 
 Wenn Ihr mir die Erlaubniss gebt, 
 Ihn meine Strasse sacht zu fiihren. 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 So lang' er auf der Erde lebt, 
 
 So lange sei Dir's nicht verboten. 
 
 Es irrt der Mensch, so lang' er strebt. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 311 
 
 MEPHISTOFHELES. 
 
 Da dank' ich Euch ; denn mit den Todten 
 
 Hab' ich mich niemals gem befangen. 
 
 Am Meisten lieb'.ich mir die voUen, frischen Wangen, 
 
 Fiir einen Leichnam bin ich nicht zu Haus; 
 
 Mir geht es wie der Katze mit der Maus. 
 
 DER HERR. 
 
 Nun gut, es sei Dir uberlassen! 
 
 Zieh diesen Geist von seinem Urquell ab 
 
 Und fiihr ihn, kannst Du ihn erfassen, 
 
 Auf Deinem Wege mit herab 
 
 Und steh beschamt, wenn Du bekennen musst; 
 
 Ein guter Mensch, in seinem dunkeln Drange, 
 
 1st sich des rechten Weges wohl bewusst.] 
 
 But Mephistopheles has underrated the difficulty of his task, 
 Faust concludes his pact without fear, because he is fully con- 
 scious of the Devil's inability to fulfil his promise. As has been 
 quoted above, Faust says : 
 
 Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? 
 When was a human soul in its sublime endeavor, 
 E'er understood by such as thou? 
 
 [Was willst Du arnier Teufcl geben? 
 
 Ward eines Menschen Geist in seinem hohen Streben 
 
 Von Deinesgleichen je gefasst?] 
 
 Faust promises to surrender himself body and soul when he 
 would ever be satisfied with mere enjoyment, with empty pleas- 
 ures, with vanity, with lazy indolence. We here repeat the pas- 
 sage for it is important. Faust says : 
 
 When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. 
 
 There let, at once, my record end! 
 
 Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, 
 
 Until, self-pleased, myself I see,— 
 
 Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me. 
 
 Let that day be the last for me ! 
 
 This bet I offer. 
 
 [Werd' ich beruhigt je mich auf ein Faulbett legen. 
 So sei es gleich um mich gethan ! 
 Kannst Du mich schmeichelnd je beliigen, 
 Dass ich mir selbst gefallen mag, 
 
312 GOETHE. 
 
 Kannst Dti mich mit Genuss betriigen: 
 Das sei fiir mich der letzte Tag! 
 Die Wette biet' ich!] 
 
 Mephistopheles imagines that Faust will finally succumb to 
 man's inborn vanity, egotism, and hankering after pleasure. 
 When Faust in his temporary despair of the efficacy of science 
 as well as of finding satisfaction in great deeds, has concluded 
 his pact, Mephistopheles feels sure of a final triumph. He ex- 
 presses his wrong estimation of Faust in these words : 
 
 Reason and Knowledge tliou despise, 
 
 The highest strength in man that lies ! 
 
 Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee 
 
 With magic works arid shows that blind thee 
 
 And I shall have thee fast and sure ! — 
 
 Fate such a bold, untrammeled spirit gave him, 
 
 As forwards, onwards; ever must endure; 
 
 Whose overhasty imp'ulse drove him 
 
 Past earthly joys he might secure. 
 
 Dragged through- the. wildest life, will I enslave him, 
 
 Through flat and stale indifference; 
 
 With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him 
 
 That, to his hot, insatiate sense. 
 
 The, dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him; 
 
 Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore — 
 
 Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save him. 
 
 Still were he lost forevermore ! 
 
 [Verachte nur Vernunft und Wissenschaft, 
 
 Des Menschen allerhochste Kraft, 
 
 Lass nur in Blend- und Zauberwerken 
 
 Dich von dem Liigengeist bestarken, 
 
 So hab' ich Dich schon unbedingt — 
 
 Ihm hat das Schicksal einen Geist gegeben, 
 
 Der ungebandigt inimer vorwarts dringt, 
 
 Und dessen ijbereiltes Streben 
 
 Der Erde Freuden iiberspringt. 
 
 Den schlepp' ich durch das wilde Leben, 
 
 Durch flache Unbedeutenheit, 
 
 Er soil mir zappeln, starren, kleben, 
 
 Und seiner Unersattlichkeit 
 
 Soil Speis' und Trank voT gier'gen Lippen schweben; 
 
 Er wird Erquickung sich umsonst erflehn, 
 
 Und hatt' er sich auch nicht dem Teufel iibergeben, 
 
 Er mtisste doch zu Grunde gehn !] 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 313 
 
 Faust, however, is proof against the allurements which the 
 Devil offers. It is characteristic of him that in Auerbach's cellar 
 among the drunken students he takes no part whatever in their 
 jokes or the buffooneries of Mephistopheles. Apparently he is 
 bored, for the only uttei-ance he makes in this scene, besides a 
 word of greeting when he enters, is the sentence addressed to 
 Mephistopheles, 
 
 I now desire to leave this place. 
 [Ich hatte Lust, nun abzufahren.] 
 
 ON THE WINE CASK. 
 By Franz Simm. 
 
 Mephistopheles had expected to amuse Faust. He says : 
 
 Before all else, I bring thee hither 
 Where boon companions meet together, 
 To let thee see how smooth life runs away, 
 Here, for the folk, each day's a holiday: 
 With little wit, and ease to suit them, 
 '■ They whirl in narrow, circling trails, 
 Like kittens playing with their tails ; 
 And if no headache persecute them, 
 So long the host may credit give. 
 They merrily and careless live. 
 
 [Ich muss Dich nun vor alien Dingen 
 
 In lustige Gesellschaft bringen, 
 
 Damit Du siehst wie leicht sich's leben lasst. 
 
314 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 VIVB.BIBE.OBOKiaGARP. . MEMOR TAVSTI ITTIViSl .BTHVIVS „ 
 'BO^NM -.ABSnAT CI.ATBOHJP.C ASTERAT AMPlA.ftltABV- ISZH! 
 
 FAUST IN AUERBACH'S CELLAR. 
 Fresco. 
 
 THE RIOTOUS STUDENTS AND FAUST'S ESCAPE. 
 After P. Cornelius. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 315 
 
 Dem Volke hier wircl jeder Tag eiii Fest. 
 Mit wenig Witz und viel Behagen 
 Dreht Jeder sich im engen Zirkeltanz, 
 Wie junge Katzeii mit dem Schwanz. 
 Wenn sie nicht iiber Kopfweh klagen, 
 So lang' der Wirth nur weiter borgt, 
 Sind sie vergniigt luid tinbesorgt.] 
 
 But Mephistopheles has misjudged Faust's taste. When the 
 students become aggressive in their intoxication, Mephistopheles 
 bewilders them by hallucinations and leaves the wineshop with 
 his companion. The drunkards recover from their confusion 
 and one of them swears : 
 
 I saw him with these eyes upon a wine cask riding 
 Out of the cellar door just now. 
 
 [Ich hab' ihn selbst hinaus zur Kellerthiire 
 Auf einem Fasse reiten sehn.] 
 
 Mephistopheles continues to misjudge the wants of Faust. 
 In the second part he addresses him with the question : 
 
 So thou wilt glory earn? 
 
 [Und also willst du Ruhm verdienen?] 
 
 but Faust answers : 
 
 The Deed is everything, the glory naught. 
 [Die That ist alles, nichts der Ruhm.] 
 
 And what Faust thinks of pleasure appears from his estimate 
 of the young emperor who thinks only of enjoyment when he 
 should attend to the duties of government. 
 
 Says Mephistopheles : 
 
 Thou knowest him. The while we twain, beside him. 
 With wealth illusive bounteously supplied him, 
 Then all the world was to be had for pay; 
 For as a youth he held imperial sway, 
 And he was pleased to try it, whether. 
 Both interests would not smoothly pair, 
 Since 't were desirable and fair 
 To govern end enjoy, together. 
 
316 GOETHE. 
 
 [Du kennst ihn ja. Als wir ihn unterhielten, 
 
 Ihm falschen Reichthum in die Hande spielten, 
 
 Da war die ganze Welt ihm feil. 
 
 Denn jung ward ilim der Thron zu Theil, 
 
 Und ihtn beliebt' es, falsch zu schliessen, 
 
 Es konne wol ziisamnien gehii 
 
 Und sei recht wiinschenswerth und schon, 
 
 Regieren und zugleich geniessen.] 
 
 Faust answers : 
 
 A mighty error! He who would command 
 Must in commanding find his highest blessing: 
 Then, let his breast with force of will expand, 
 But what he wills, be past another's guessing! 
 What to his faithful he hath whispered, that 
 Is turned to act, and men amaze thereat: 
 Thus will he ever be the highest-placed 
 And worthiest ! — Enjoyment makes debased. 
 
 [Ein grosser Irrthum ! Wer befehleii soil. 
 
 Muss im Befehlen Seligkeit empfinden; 
 
 Ihm ist die Brust von hohem Willen voU, 
 
 Doch was er will, es darf s kein Mensch ergrimden. 
 
 Was er den Treusten in das Ohr geraunt, 
 
 Es ist gethan, und alle Welt erstaunt. 
 
 So wird er stets der AUerhochste sein, 
 
 Der Wiirdigste; — Geniessen macht gemein.] 
 
 There is a radical difference between Faust's conception of 
 the world and that of Mephistopheles. To Faust ideas, ideals, 
 thoughts, aspirations and the endeavor to accomplish something, 
 are all-important and the material realities are merely means to 
 an end. Mephistopheles regards only the concrete material 
 things as realities and has a contempt for Faust's spiritual treas- 
 ures as if they were mere phantoms and bubbles of a feverish 
 imagination. Thus when Faust searches for Helen, the Greek 
 ideal of beauty, Mephistopheles hands him a key and instructs 
 him how with its help he can find his way to the realm of the ■ 
 mysterious mothers — the prototypes of all existent forms. 
 
 Mephistopheles sends Faust into the void. The place of 
 eternal ideas is to him nothing. It has no bodily reality, it is 
 nothing tangible, not concrete material. It is a region for which 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 317 
 
 Mephistopheles expresses a very strong dislike. But Faust feels 
 at home and at once understands the situation. He says : 
 
 In this thy Naught I hope to find the All. 
 
 [In deincm Nichts hoff' ich das All zu finden.] 
 
 What is real to Mephistopheles is merely a transient symbol 
 to Faust, and what is Faust's All, is Naught to Mephistopheles, 
 an empty void, something non-existent. 
 
 Here in a mystical allegory Goethe symbolizes the existence 
 of an ideal realm v^^hich to the materialist is a mere phantom, 
 but the poet does not fail to criticize also the fantastic aberra- 
 
 THE KEY. 
 
 tions of science which are commonly pursued with noisy preten- 
 sions by immature naturalists and pseudo-scientists. Faust does 
 not attempt the artificial procreation of a human organism. It 
 is Wagner, his former famulus and now his successor at the' 
 university, who is bent on producing an homunculus. Mephis- 
 topheles surprises him in his laboratory and Wagner with hushed 
 voice urges him not to disturb the work. 
 
 In contrast to the extravagances of natural science, Goethe 
 pillories the faults of the philosophy of his age in the bacca- 
 laureus, a young scholar who in the exuberance of his youth 
 thinks that in himself is reached the climax of the world's evo- 
 
318 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 lution ; that with his appearance on earth day dawned and before 
 him there was chaos and night. He says to Mephistopheles : 
 
 This is Youth's noblest calling and most fit ! 
 The world was not, ere I created it; 
 The sun I drew from out the orient sea ; 
 The moon began her changeful course with me; 
 
 WAGNER PREPARING HIS HOMUNCULUS. 
 By Franz Simm. 
 
 The Day put on his shining robes, to greet me; 
 
 The Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me, 
 
 And when I beckoned, from the primal night 
 
 The stars unveiled their splendors to my sight. 
 
 Who, save myself, to you deliverance brought 
 
 From commonplaces of restricted thought? 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 
 
 319 
 
 I, proud and free, even as dictates my mind,. 
 Follow witli joy the inward light I find, 
 And speed along, in mine own ecstasy. 
 Darkness behind, and Glory leading me ! 
 
 [Dies ist der Jugend edelster Beruf! 
 
 Die Welt, sie war nicht, eh ich sie erschuf ; 
 
 Die Sonne fiihrt' ich aus dem Meer herauf; 
 
 Mit mir begann der Mond des Wechsels Lauf ; 
 
 Da schmiickte sich der Tag auf meinen Wegen, 
 
 Die Erde griinte, bliihte mir entgegen. 
 
 Auf meinen Wink in jener ersten Nacht 
 
 SELF-SATISFIED. 
 
 The Baccalaureus explains his philosophy to Mephistopheles. 
 By Franz Sirarn. 
 
 Entfaltete sich aller Sterne Pracht. 
 
 War, ausser mir, entband Euch aller Schranken 
 
 Philisterhaft einklemmender Gedanken? 
 
 Ich aber frei, wie mir's im Geiste spricht, 
 
 Verfolge froh mein innerliches Licht 
 
 Und wandle rasch, im eigensten Entziicken, 
 
 Das Helle vor mir, Finsterniss im Rucken.] 
 
 Mephistopheles is dumbfounded at the conceit of this im- 
 mature youth; but the Devil has seen other generations which 
 had behaved no better, and says to himself : 
 
 Yet even from him we're not in special peril; 
 He will, ere long, to other thoughts incline: 
 The must may foam absurdly in the barrel, 
 Nathless it turns at last to wine. 
 
320 GOETHE. 
 
 [Doch sind wir audi mit diesem nicht gefahrdet, 
 In wenig Jahren wird es anders sein : 
 Wenn sich der Most auch ganz absurd gebardet, 
 Es giebt zuletzt doch noch 'ii Wein.] 
 
 Faust is absolutely fearless and beyond the temptations of 
 vanity and self-indulgence; he lives in his ideals only and finds 
 delight in work. His highest ambition is to create nevir oppor- 
 tunities for his fellow men. He recovers a kingdom from the 
 sea, not to rule there as a sovereign7 but to be a leader who would 
 teach a free people to work out their own salvation, and a man 
 of this stamp cannot be lost. As the Dutch have wrested great 
 districts of new land from the ocean by damming the floods with 
 dykes, so Faust succeeds in retrieving a large tract of swamps 
 by drainage. This is true happiness which he procures for him- 
 self and others, yet even this happiness is not indulgence; it is a 
 constant struggle and must be bought by unceasing exertion. 
 Faust himself grows old, and the constant worry for the success 
 of his plans deprives him of his sight. Care, in the shape of a 
 haggard witch, appears in his home; she breathes upon his eyes 
 and an eternal night sinks upon him. Still more urgently does 
 he follow his spiritual vision and push the work forward so that 
 it may be completed. But while he imagines that the laborers 
 are throwing up dykes and laying the drains, the Lemures, the 
 ugly spirits of decay, are digging his grave. Faust feels elated 
 at the thought of his plan's completion. He says : 
 
 To many millions let me furnish soil, 
 Though not secure, yet free to active toil; 
 Green, fertile fields, where men and herds go forth 
 At once, with comfort, on the newest Earth, 
 And swiftly settled on the hill's firm base. 
 Created by the bold, industrious race. 
 A land like Paradise here, round about : 
 Up to the brink the tide may roar without, 
 And though it gnaw, to burst with force the limit. 
 By common impulse all unite to hem it. 
 Yes ! to this thought I hold with firm persistence ; 
 The last result of wisdom stamps it true : 
 He only earns his freedom and existence. 
 Who daily conquers them anew. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 321 
 
 Thus here, by dangers girt, shall glide away 
 
 Of childhood, manhood, age, the vigorous day: 
 
 And such a throng I fain would see,— 
 
 Stand on free soil among a people free ! 
 
 Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing: 
 
 "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair!" 
 
 The traces cannot, of mine earthly being. 
 
 In ffions perish, — they are there! — 
 
 In proud fore-feeling of such lofty bliss, 
 
 I now enjoy the highest Moment,— this ! 
 
 [ErofTn' ich Raume vielen Millionen, 
 
 Nicht sicher zwar, doch thiitig frei zu wohnen : 
 
 Griin das Gefilde, fruchtbar; Mensch und Heerde 
 
 Sogleich behaglich auf der neusten Erde, 
 
 Gleich angesiedelt an des Hiigels Kraft, 
 
 Den aufgewiilzt kiihn-ems'ge Volkerschaft. 
 
 Im Innern hier ein paradiesisch Land, 
 
 ■Da rase draussen Fluth bis auf zum Rand, 
 
 Und wie sie nascht, gewaltsam einzuschliessen, 
 
 Gemeindrang eilt, die Liicke zu verschliessen. 
 
 Ja ! Diesem Sinne bin ich ganz ergeben. 
 
 Das ist Der Weisheit letzter Schluss : 
 
 Nur der verdient sich Freiheit wie das Leben, 
 
 Der taglich sie erobern muss. 
 
 Und so verbringt, umrungen von Gefahr, 
 
 Hier Kindheit, Mann und Greis sein tuchtig Jahr. 
 
 Solch ein Gewimmel mocht' ich sehn, 
 
 Auf freiem Grund mit freiem Volke stehn. 
 
 Zum Augenblicke diirft' ich sagen : 
 
 Verweile doch ! Du bist so schon ! 
 
 Es kann die Spur von meinen Erdentagen 
 
 Nicht in Aeonen untergehn ! — 
 
 Im Vorgefuhl von solchem hohen Gliick 
 
 Geniess' ich jetzt den hochsten Augenblick] 
 
 Now for the first time Faust feels true enjoyment and would 
 hold on to that moment of satisfaction. But this is not a joy 
 which the Devil can give; it is the purest joy of ideal aspiration 
 and indeed to Mephistopheles it appears poor and empty. This 
 joy is not of the earth; it is no indulgence in what Mephistopheles 
 calls the realities of life; it is purely ideal, not material, and 
 ideals to the worldly minded are mere phantoms, "shifting 
 shapes." 
 
 Mephistopheles adds this comment: 
 
322 GOETHE. 
 
 No joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss ! 
 To catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor: 
 The latest, poorest, emptiest Moment — this — 
 He wished to hold it fast forever. 
 
 [Ihn sattigt keine Lust, ihm gniigt kein Gliick, 
 So buhlt er fort nach wechselnden Gestalten ; 
 Den letzten, schlechten,' leeren Augenblick, 
 Der Arme wiinscht ihn festzuhalten.] 
 
 Now follows the scene in which Mephistopheles loses his 
 prize, and here it seems to me Goethe has failed to bring out the 
 meaning of Faust's salvation. Instead of rescuing Faust by the 
 intrinsic worth of his character and the nobility of his endeavor, 
 Goethe makes Mephistopheles lose his forfeit by mere negligence 
 on account of a sudden sentiment of lust that is aroused in him 
 by the sight of angels. 
 
 The Lemures are at work digging the grave and Mephistoph- 
 eles calls all the devils of hell to his aid. He exclaims with some 
 frantic whirling gestures of conjuration ; 
 
 Come on ! Strike up the double quick, anew. 
 
 With straight or crooked horns, ye gentlemen infernal, 
 
 Of the old Devil-grit and kernel. 
 
 And bring at once the Jaws of Hell with you ! 
 
 [Nur frisch heran ! Verdoppelt Euren Schritt, 
 Ihr Herrn vom graden, Herrn vom krummen Home, 
 Vom alten Teufelsschrot und -Korne, 
 Bringt Ihr zugleich den Hollenrachen mit.] 
 
 At the same time angels appear scattering roses and before 
 them the devils retire. Mephistopheles only remains, but the 
 sight of the angelic figures turns his head and he falls in love 
 with them. He says : 
 
 The sight of them once made my hatred worse. 
 Hath then an alien force transpierced my nature? 
 What now restrains me, that I dare not curse ? — 
 And if I take their cozening bait so, 
 Who else, henceforth, the veriest fool will be? 
 The stunning fellows, whom I hate so. 
 How very charming they appear to me ! — 
 Tell me, sweet children, ere I miss you. 
 Are ye not of the race of Lucifer ! 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 323 
 
 You are so fair, forsooth, I'd like to kiss you ; 
 
 It seems to me as if ye welcome were. 
 
 I feel as comfortable and as trustful. 
 
 As though a thousand times ere this we'd met ! 
 
 So surreptitiously catlike— lustful : 
 
 With every glance ye're fairer, fairer yet. 
 
 O, nearer come,— O, grant me one sweet look ! 
 
 ANGELS. 
 
 We come! Why shrink? Canst not our presence brook? 
 Now we approach : so, if thou canst, remain ! 
 {The Angels, coming forward, occupy the whole space.) 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES. 
 
 {who is crowded into the proscenium) . 
 Us, Spirits damned, you brand with censure. 
 Yet you are wizards by indenture ; 
 For man and woman, luring, you enchain. 
 
 [Der Anblick war mir sonst so feindlich scharf. 
 
 Hat mich ein Fremdes durch und durchgedrungen ? 
 
 Ich mag sie gerne sehn, die allerliebsten Jungen ; 
 
 Was halt mich ab, dass ich nicht fluchen darf? — 
 
 Und wenn ich mich bethoren lasse, 
 
 Wer heisst denn kiinftighin der Thor? — 
 
 Die Wetterbuben, die ich basse, 
 
 Sie kommen mir doch gar zu lieblich vor ! — 
 
 Ihr schonen Kinder, lasst mich wissen, 
 
 Seid ihr nicht auch von Lucifer's Geschlecht? 
 
 Ihr seid so hiibsch, fiirwabr ich mocht Euch kiissen, 
 
 Mir ist's, als kommt Ihr eben recht. 
 
 Es ist mir so behaglich, so natiirlich, 
 
 Als hatt' ich Euch schon tausendmal gesehn ; 
 
 So heimlich-katzchenhaft begierlich ; 
 
 Mit jedem Blick auf's Neue schoner, schon. 
 
 O nabert Euch, o gonnt mir einen Blick ! 
 
 ENGEL. 
 
 Wir kommen schon, warum weichst Du zuriick ? 
 
 Wir nahern uns, und wenn Du kannst, so bleib ! 
 
 {Die Engel nehmen, umhersiehend, den ganscn Raum ein.) 
 
 MEPHISTOPHELES 
 
 {der ins Proscenium gedrangt wird.) 
 Ihr scheltet uns verdammte Geister 
 Und seid die wahren Hexenmeister ; 
 Denn Ihr verfiihret Mann und Weib. — ] 
 
 Thus Mephistopheles is defrauded and he has only himself 
 
324 GOETHE. 
 
 to blame. It is no merit of Faust's that saves Faust's soul. The 
 scene concludes thus : 
 
 (The angels rise, bearing away the ImmortaP of Faust.) 
 MEPHiSTOPKELES (looking ai'ound him). 
 But why they suddenly away are hieing? 
 These pretty children take me by surprise ! 
 They with their booty heavenwards are flying ; 
 Thence from this grave they take with them their prize. 
 My rare, great treasure they have peculated : 
 The lofty soul, to me hypothecated. 
 They 've rapt away from me in cunning wise. 
 But unto whom shall I appeal for justice? 
 Who would secure to me mjr well-earned right? 
 Tricked so in one's old days, a great disgust is ; 
 And I deserve it, this infernal spite. 
 I've managed in a most disgraceful fashion ; 
 A great investment has been thrown away : 
 By lowest lust seduced, and senseless passion. 
 The old, case-hardened Devil went astray. 
 And if, from all this childish-silly stuff 
 His shrewd experience could not wrest him, 
 So is, forsooth, the folly quite enough. 
 Which, in conclusion, hath possessed him. 
 
 [(Die Engel erheben sich, Faustens Unsterbliches entfUhrend.) 
 MEPHiSTOPHELES (sich umsehcnd). 
 Doch wie? — Wo sind sie hingezogen? 
 Unmund'ges Volk, Du hast mich iiberrascht, 
 Sind mit der Beute himmelwarts entflogen; 
 Drum haben sie an dieser Gruft genascht! 
 Mir ist ein grosser, einz'ger Schatz entwendet. 
 Die hohe Seele, die sich mir verpfandet. 
 Die haben sie mir pfiffig weggepascht. 
 Bei wem soil ich mich nun beklagen? 
 Wer schafft rair mein erworbnes Recht? 
 Du bist getJiuscht in Deinen alten Tagen, 
 Du bast's verdient, es geht Dir grimmig schlecht. 
 Ich habe schimpflich missgehandelt, 
 Ein grosser Aufwand, schmahlich, ist verthan; 
 Gemein Geliist, absurde Liebschaft wandelt 
 Den ausgepichten Teufel an. 
 Und hat mit diesem kindisch-toUen Ding 
 Der Klugerfahrne sich beschaftigt. 
 So ist furwahr die Thorheit nicht gering, 
 Die seiner sich am Schluss bemachtigt.] 
 
 ' The original manuscript reads here "Faust's entelechy," which to Goethe 
 meant the same as "Faust's Immortal." See above, p. 234. 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF FAUST. 325 
 
 This conclusion may be criticized for two reasons. First, 
 according to Goethe's own plan, Faust must be saved not through 
 a fault of Mephistopheles, but through his own merit; and 
 secondly, the fault which Goethe here imputes to Mephistopheles 
 is not in keeping with his character. Mephistopheles is not the 
 Devil of lust. He is the malevolent intriguer and, with all his 
 devilish features, would never be silly enough to be so easily 
 duped. So we say that the passage under consideration is out 
 or harmony with the whole. The Devil should have his due. 
 
 We would propose to change the scene thus : As soon as Faust 
 is dead Mephistopheles summons his army (as Goethe has it) 
 to make good his claims ; the devils claw the body of Faust with- 
 out any interference on the pail of the angels, and while the 
 devils try to snatch it away, the remains fall to pieces. We see 
 the body crumble to dust, the skull and the bones fall down and 
 the vestments turn to rags. The Lemures would sweep the 
 remains into the grave and now would be the time for Mephis- 
 topheles to philosophize on the vanity of life. This then is the 
 fruit of all his labors, and here he holds his prize to the attain- 
 ment of which he has devoted so many years. What is Faust 
 now? A heap of bones and ashes, and his life is past as if it 
 never had been. The Lemures shout in chorus: "It is past." 
 So also thinks Mephistopheles, and Goethe rightly puts these 
 words into his mouth : 
 
 — Past! a stupid word. 
 If past, then why? 
 
 Past and pure Naught, complete monotony! 
 What good for us, this endlessly creating? — 
 What is created then annihilating? 
 "And now it's past!" Why read a page so twisted? 
 'Tis just the same as if it ne'er existed, 
 Yet goes in circles round as if it had, however: 
 I'd rather choose, instead, the Void forever." 
 
 [Vorbei ! Ein dummes Wort. 
 Waruni vorbei? 
 
 Vorbei und reines Nichts, volkommnes Einerlei ! 
 Was soil uns denn das ew'ge Schaffen! 
 Geschafifenes zu nichts hinwegzuraffen ! 
 "Da ist's vorbei I" Was ist daran zu lesen ? 
 Es ist so gut, als war' es nicht gewesen, 
 
326 GOETHE. 
 
 Und treibt sich doch im Kreis, als wenn es ware. 
 Ich liebte mir dafiir das Ewig-Leere.] 
 
 While Mephistopheles in his reaHsm dings to the bodily re- 
 mains of Faust the angels appear, and in the place where his 
 body had fallen to pieces there rises the transfigured effigy of 
 Faust, the Faust idea, that spiritual self of him which survives 
 death. It is his life's work and the blessings which he leaves to 
 posterity, symbolized by his personality. Mephistopheles has 
 taken the mortal remains, they are his share which shall not be 
 taken from him; he overlooks the immortal part of Faust's 
 being, for he is spiritually blind and does not value it. Thus 
 Mephistopheles has only helped to free the imrriortal soul from 
 the dross of all its mortal ingredients, and now the angels hail 
 the transfigured Faust and lift him up to his home, whither the 
 ideal of womanhood, das ewig Weihliche, has ever since been 
 leading him, there to be united with all that is beautiful, good, 
 and true, — with God. 
 
 This is the meaning of the Chorus MysticuS'i^ 
 
 Things unremainable [Alles Vergangliche 
 
 But as symbols are meant: 1st nur ein Gleichniss; 
 
 The unattainable Das Unzulangliche, 
 
 Here grows to event : Hier wird's Ereigniss ; 
 
 Ineffable though be the good, Das Unbeschreibliche, 
 
 Here it is done: Hier ist es gethan ; 
 
 Eternal womanhood Das Ewig-Weibliche 
 
 Leads upward and on! Zieht uns hinan.] 
 
 That eternal home which to Mephistopheles is a nonentity 
 is after all the only true existence worthy of the name; all so- 
 called realities are merely transient symbols of the eternal in 
 which everything finds its final fulfilment and completion, and to 
 find this goal is salvation. 
 
 * While in all other quotations from "Faust" we have used Bayard Taylor's 
 version with very slight deviations, we prefer here to replace his lines by our 
 own. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 
 
 GOETHE does not belong to the eccentric class of poets. 
 His genius is not abnormal, but proves him to be an all 
 around man. He was a man of affaii's in the world, his duties 
 consisting in the administration of a small territory, one of the 
 little duchies of Thuringia. Hence it is natural that Goethe 
 should be richer in thoughts of worldly wisdom than any other 
 poet from earliest antiquity down to the present time. 
 
 We present the following collection of terse epigrams and 
 observations in poetical form. 
 
 A hundred years thou mayest worship fire, — 
 Fall in but once, thou art consumed entire. 
 
 [Anbete du das Feuer hundert Jahr, 
 
 Dann fall' hinein ! Dich f risst's mit Haut und Haar. ] 
 
 Were to the sun not kin our eyne, 
 
 They ne'er could see the sun's fair beam, 
 
 Lay not in us a power divine. 
 
 Of the divine how could we dream? 
 
 [War' nicht das Auge sonnenhaft. 
 
 Die Sonne konnt' es nie erblicken ; 
 Lag' nicht in uns des Gottes eigne Kraft, 
 
 Wie konnt' uns Gottliches entziicken!] 
 
 In explanation of this idea, we might as well state the reverse 
 thought. Man— a rational being with moral aspirations, who 
 acts with a purpose, who .plans designs and follows ideals of 
 
328 GOETHE. 
 
 attaining higher and higher aims — exists, and we call that fea- 
 ture of being which we admire noble and good. We do not 
 regard man's existence as an accidental by-play of wild forces, 
 but come to the conclusion that he has originated as a necessary 
 phase in evolution according to the natural laws of the universe. 
 As the eye originates according to the nature of ether waves, 
 man with his aspirations corresponds to the constitution of the 
 cosmic order. The divinity of the former suggests the divinity 
 of the latter. If the ideal man appears to us like a god, super- 
 human and divine, we feel justified in designating the cause 
 that has produced him as the Godhead. 
 
 Who himself and others knows 
 Here is rightly guided; 
 Orient and Occident 
 Are no more divided. 
 
 Proper 'tis through both to roam. 
 And in either feel at home. 
 Moving 'tween the East and West, 
 Surely will with all be best. 
 
 [Wer sich selbst und Andre kennt, 
 Wird auch hier erkennen : 
 Orient und Occident 
 Sind nicht mehr zu trenneh. 
 
 Sinnig zwischen beiden Welten 
 Sich zu wiegen lass' ich gelten ; 
 Also zwischen Ost und Westen 
 Sich bewegen, sei's zum Besten!] 
 
 God owns all the Orient 
 
 God owns all the Occident, 
 
 Both of North and South the lands 
 
 Peaceful rest in God's good hands. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 329 
 
 [Gottes ist der Orient, 
 Gottes ist der Occident, 
 Nord- und siidliches Gelande 
 Ruht im Frieden seiner Hande.] 
 
 As any one is [Wie Einer ist, 
 So is his God, So ist sein Gott ; 
 
 And thus is God Darum ward Gott 
 Oft strangely odd. So oft zum Spott.] 
 
 Why do you scoff and scout [Was soil mir euer Hohn 
 About the All and One ? Ueber das All und Eine ? 
 
 The professor's a person no Der Professor ist eine Person, 
 doubt, Gott ist keine.] 
 
 God is none. 
 
 A quiet scholar a party attended 
 And home in silence his steps he wended. 
 When asked how he was pleased, he said, 
 "Were people books, those stayed unread." 
 
 [Aus einer grossen Gesellschaft heraus 
 
 Ging einst ein stiller Gelehrter zu Haus. 
 
 Man fragte: "Wie seid ihr zufrieden gew'esen?" 
 
 "Waren's Biicher," sagt' er, "ich wiird' sie nicht lesen."] 
 
 "The Devil take the human race, 
 
 They drive me mad for anger!" 
 
 So I decided seriously 
 
 Will meet none any more ! 
 
 Will leave those folks all to themselves. 
 
 To God and to — the devil. 
 
 Yet scarce I see a human face 
 
 But I fall in love with it. 
 
330 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 [Der Teufel hoi' das Menschengeschlecht ! 
 
 Man mochte rasend werden. 
 
 Da nehm' ich mir so eif rig vor : 
 
 Will Niemand weiter sehen, 
 
 Will all das Volk Gott und sich selbst 
 
 Und dem Teufel iiberlassen! 
 
 Und kaum seh' ich ein Menschengesicht, 
 
 So hab' ich's wieder lieb.] 
 
 
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 When in the infinite appeareth 
 
 The same eternal repetition, 
 
 When in harmonious coalition 
 A mighty dome its structure reareth ; 
 A rapture thrills through all existence, 
 
 All stars, or great or small, are blessed. 
 Yet are all strife and all resistance 
 
 In God, the Lord, eternal rest. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 331 
 
 I know that naught belongs to me 
 Except the thought that light and free 
 Out of my soul is flowing; 
 Alst) of joy each moment rare 
 Which my good fortune kind and fair 
 Upon me is bestowing; 
 
 [Ich weiss, dass mir nichts angehort 
 Als der Gedanke, der ungestort 
 Aus meiner Seele will fliessen, 
 Und jeder giinstige Augenblick, 
 Den mich ein liebendes Geschick 
 Von Grund aus lasst geniessen.] 
 
 If not of this rule possessed [Und so lang du das nicht hast, 
 
 Of dying and becoming, Dieses Stirb und Werde, 
 
 Thou art but a sorry guest Bist du mir ein triiber Gast 
 
 In a glad world roaming. Auf der schonen Erde.] 
 
 "Hast immortality in mind. 
 Wilt thou thy reasons give ?" 
 "The most important reason is, 
 We can't without it live." 
 
 ["Du hastUnsterblichkeit im Sinn-; 
 Kannst du uns deine Griinde nennen?" 
 "Gar wohl! Der Hauptgrund Hegt darin, 
 Dass wir sie nicht entbehren konnen."] 
 
 We are a fragment of this world, and in order to understand 
 ourselves we must look beyond the limits of our existence, we 
 must see the causes that produced us and the effects in which 
 we continue. The nature of existence is a constant change, a 
 dying off and a new becoming. So long as we have not entered 
 into the spirit of life, we are not fit to live, and our belief in 
 immortality is ultimately based on our need to comprehend our 
 existence as a part of the infinite whole. 
 
332 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Time mows roses and thorns amain ; 
 She sows them and mows them again and again. 
 * * * 
 
 "Know thou thyself!" How does self-knowledge pay? 
 Know I myself, / pass at once away. 
 
 [Erkenne dich! Was hab' ich da fiir Lohn? 
 Erkenn' ich mich, so muss ich gleich davon.] 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 
 
 "Why keepest thou aloof? Why lonely 
 Art from our views thou turning?" 
 
 I do not write to please you only, 
 You must be learning! 
 
 ["Warum willst du dich von uns alien 
 Und unsrer Meinung entfernen?" 
 
 Ich schreibe nicht euch zu gefallen; 
 Ihr sollt was lernen.J 
 
 333 
 
 Many cooks will spoil the broth, 
 Beware of servants' impositions; 
 
 We are already, by my troth, 
 A hospital of sick physicians. 
 
 A fellow says : "I own no school nor college ; 
 No master lives whom I acknowledge; 
 And pray don't entertain the thought 
 That from the dead I e'er learned aught." 
 This if I rightly understand 
 Means, "I'm a fool by my own command." 
 
334 GOETHE. 
 
 [Ein Quidam sagt: "Icli bin von keiner Schule; 
 Kein Meister lebt, mit dem ich buhle ; 
 Auch bin ich weit davon entfernt, 
 Dass ich von Todten was gelernt." 
 Das heisst, wenn ich ihn recht verstand : 
 "Ich bin ein Narr auf eigne Hand."] 
 
 * * * 
 
 A lie when spoken, when written too, 
 Will poison to others prove and to you. 
 
 [Habt ihr gelogen in Wort und Schrift, 
 Andern ist es und euch ein Gift] 
 
 One could a well-bred child beget. 
 But parents are not well-bred yet. 
 
 [Man konnt' erzogne Kinder gebaren, 
 Wenn die Eltern erzogne waren.J 
 
 Who plays with life, will never find his way; 
 
 Who won't command himself a slave remains for aye. 
 
 [Wer mit dem Leben spielt kommt nie zurecht ; 
 Wer sich nicht selbst befiehlt, bleibt immer Knecht.J 
 
 When head and heart are busy, say 
 What better can be found ? 
 Who neither loves nor goes astray, 
 Were better under ground. 
 
 [Wenn dir's in Kopf und Herzen schwirrt. 
 Was willst du Bessres haben? 
 Wer nicht mehr liebt und nicht mehr irrt, 
 Der lasse sich begraben.] 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 335 
 
 Wouldst thou ever onward roam? 
 Lo, the good lies very near. 
 Learn happiness to seize at home, 
 For happiness is always here. 
 
 [Willst du immer weiter schweifen? 
 Sieh, das Gute liegt so nah. 
 Lerne nur das Gliick ergreifen, 
 Denn das Gliick ist immer da.] 
 
 If yestreen's account be clear, 
 Art thou brave to-day and free. 
 Meet thy morrow with good cheer : 
 Surely t'will auspicious be. 
 
 tfU^ -ti** ^^€trt ^^Mf **^ Jj^trt. . 
 
 /<T*' 
 
 
 ^/<* 
 
 The world has not been made of mush and pies; 
 So live not in Schlaraffian paradise. 
 There are hard bites, chew bit for bit; 
 Digest your food or choke on it. 
 
 [Die Welt ist nicht aus Brod und Mus geschaffen; 
 Drum haltet euch nicht wie Schlaraffen ; 
 Harte Bissen gibt es zu kauen, 
 Ihr miisst erwiirgen oder verdauen.] 
 
336 GOETHE. 
 
 Would from tradition break away, 
 
 Original I'd be! 
 The feat so grand, to my dismay, 
 
 Greatly discom^fits me. 
 The honor of being autochthon 
 
 Would be my great ambition, 
 But strange enough, I have to own, 
 
 I am myself tradition. 
 
 [Gern war' ich Ueberliefrung los 
 Und ganz original; 
 Doch ist das Unternehmen gross 
 Und fvihrt in manche Qual. 
 Alt Autochthone rechnet' ich 
 Es mir zur hochsten Ehre, 
 Wenn ich nicht gar zu wunderlich 
 Selbst Ueberliefrung ware.] 
 
 When eagerly a child looks round. 
 
 In his father's, house is shelter found. 
 
 His ear, beginning to understand,. 
 
 Imbibes the speech of his native land. 
 
 Whatever his own experiences are. 
 
 He hears of other things afar. 
 
 Example affects him ; he grows strong and steady 
 
 Yet finds the world complete and ready. 
 
 This is prized, that praised with much ado; 
 
 He fain would be somebody too. 
 
 How he. can work and woo, how fight and frown. 
 
 Everything has been written down. 
 
 Nay, worse, it has appeared in print. 
 
 The youth is baffled but takes the hint. 
 
 It dawns on him, now, more and more 
 
 He is what others have been before. 
 
 [Wenn Kindesblick begierig schaut, 
 Er findet des Vaters Haus gebaut; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 337 
 
 Und wenn das Ohi- sich erst vertraut, 
 Ihm tont der Muttersprache Laut ; 
 Gewahrt er diess und jenes nah, 
 Man fabelt ihnl, was fern geschah, 
 Umsittigt ihn, wachst er heran : 
 Er findet eben alles gethan; 
 Man riihmt ihm diess, man preist ihm das : 
 Er ware gar gern auch etwas. 
 Wie er soil wirken, schaffen, lieben, 
 Das steht ja alles schon geschrieben 
 Und, was noch schlimmer ist, gedruckt. 
 Da steht der junge Mensch verduckt 
 Und endlich wird ihm offenbar : 
 Er sei nur was ein andrer war.] 
 
 War waged the angels for the right, 
 But they were beaten in every fight. 
 Yea, everything went topsy turvy 
 Because the Devil was quite nervy. 
 He kept the field despite their prayer 
 That God might save them from despair. 
 Quoth Logos, who since eternity 
 Had clearly seen it so must be, 
 "Ye angels need not be too civil, 
 But fight like Satan, like the devil ! 
 Who wins the day, must struggle hard; 
 Do yfi your praying afterward." 
 The maxim needed no repeating 
 And lo ! the Devil got his beating. 
 'Twas done; the angels all were glad — 
 To be a devil is not so bad. 
 
 [Die Engel stritten fiir uns Gerechte, 
 Zogen den Kiirzern in jedem Gef echte ; 
 Da stiirzte denn Alles driiber und drunter, 
 Dem Teufel gehorte der ganze Plunder. 
 Nun ging es an ein Beten und Flehen ! 
 
338 GOETHE. 
 
 Gott ward bewegt herein zu sehen. 
 
 Spricht Logos, dem die Sache klar 
 
 Von Ewigkeit her gewesen war: 
 
 Sie sollten sich keineswegs geniren, 
 
 Sich auch einmal als Teufel geriren, 
 
 Auf jede Weise den Sieg erringen 
 
 Und hierauf das Tedeum singen. 
 
 Das Hessen sie sich nicht zweimal sagen, 
 
 Und siehe, die Teufel waren geschlagen. 
 
 Natiirlich fand man hinterdrein, 
 
 Es sei recht hiibsch, ein Teufel zu sein.J 
 
 You have the Devil underrated. 
 I cannot yet persuaded be! 
 A fellow who is all-behated, 
 Must something be. 
 
 [Ich kann mich nicht bereden lassen, 
 Macht mir den Teufel nur nicht klein : 
 Ein Kerl, den alle Menschen hassen, 
 Der muss was sein!] 
 
 To Him who from eternity, self-stirred. 
 Himself hath made by his creative word; 
 To Him supreme who maketh faith to be, 
 Trust, hope, love, power, and endless energy; 
 To Him who, seek to name him as we will, 
 Unknown within himself abideth still. 
 
 — Tr. by I. A. Symonds. 
 
 [Im Namen dessen, der Sich selbst erschuf. 
 Von Ewigkeit in schaffendem Beruf ; 
 In Seinem Namen, der den Glauben schafft, 
 Vertrauen, Liebe, Thatigkeit und Kraft; 
 In Jenes Namen, der so oft genannt, 
 Dem Wesen nach blieb immer unbekannt.] 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 339 
 
 What were a God who from the outside stirred 
 So that the world around his finger whirred? 
 He from within the universe must move, 
 Nature in Him and Him in nature prove. 
 Thus all that lives and moves within his bliss 
 Will ne'er his power and ne'er his spirit miss. 
 
 [Was war' ein Gott, der nur von aussen stiesse, 
 Im Kreis das All am Finger laufen liesse! 
 Ihm ziemt's die Welt im Innern zu bewegen, 
 Natur in Sich, Sich in Natur zu hegen, 
 So dass, was in Ihm lebt und webt und ist, 
 Nie Seine Kraft, nie Seinen Geist vermisst.J 
 
 The soul of man, too, is a universe; 
 Whence follows it that race with race concurs 
 In naming all it knows of good and true, 
 God — yea, its own God — and with honor due 
 Surrenders to His sway both earth and heaven. 
 Fears Him, and loves, where place for love is given. 
 
 — Tr. by J. A. Symonds, 
 
 [Im Innern ist ein Universum auch: 
 Daher der Volker loblicher Gebrauch, 
 Dass Jeglicher das Beste, was er kennt,, 
 Er Gott, ja seinen Gott, benennt, 
 Ihm Himmel und Erden iibergiebt, 
 Ihn fiirchtet, und wo moglich liebt.] 
 
 clarchen's song. 
 
 Gladness [Freudvoll 
 
 And sadness Und leidvoll, 
 
 And pensiveness blending; Gedankenvoll sein. 
 
 Yearning Langen 
 
 And burning Und bangen 
 
 In torment ne'er ending; In schwebender Fein, 
 
340 GOETHE. 
 
 Sad unto death, Himmelhoch jauchzend, 
 
 Proudly soaring above; Zum Tode betriibt, 
 
 Happy alone Gliicklich allein 
 
 Is the soul filled with love. 1st die Seele, die liebt.] 
 
 FIVE THINGS. 
 
 What makes time short to me? [Was verkiirzt mir die Zeit? 
 
 Activity ! Thatigkeit ! 
 
 What makes it spiritless? Was macht sie unertraghch 
 
 Idleness! lang? 
 
 What brings into debt? Miissiggang! 
 
 To delay and forget! Was bringt in Schulden? 
 What makes us succeed ? Harren und Dulden ! 
 
 Decision with speed! Was macht gewinnen? 
 How honor to gain ? Nicht lange besinnen ! 
 
 Oneself maintain! Was bringt zu Ehren? 
 
 Sich wehren!] 
 
 VANITAS! VANITATUM VANITAS ! 
 
 My trust in nothing now is placed, 
 
 Hurray ! 
 So in the world true joy I taste. 
 
 Hurray ! 
 Then he who would be a comrade of mine 
 Must clink his glass, and in chorus combine 
 And drink his cup of wine. 
 
 I i^cetf my trust in gold and wealth. 
 
 Hurray ! 
 But then I lost all joy and health, 
 
 Lack-a-day ! 
 Both here and there the money rolled. 
 And when I had it here, behold, 
 There disappeared the gold ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 341 
 
 I placed my trust in women next, 
 
 Hurray ! 
 How sorely was I thereby vexed, 
 
 Lack-a-day ! 
 The False another lover sought, 
 The True with tediousness was fraught, 
 The Best could not be bought. 
 
 I took to travel and started to roam. 
 
 Hurray ! 
 Cast off the habits of my home, 
 
 Lack-a-day ! 
 But not a single thing seemed good, 
 The beds were bad, and strange the food. 
 And I not understood. 
 
 In honor trusted I and fame. 
 
 Hurray ! 
 Another put me straight to shame, 
 
 Lack-a-day ! 
 And when I had achieved advance 
 The people looked at me askance. 
 With none I had a chance. 
 
 I placed my trust in war and fight, 
 
 Hurray ! 
 We gained full many a victory bright, 
 
 Hurray ! 
 Into the. foeman's land we crossed, 
 Alas, though, at our triumph's cost! 
 For there a leg I lost. 
 
 In nothing now my trust shall be, 
 
 Hurray ! 
 And all the world belongs to me. 
 
 Hurray ! 
 And as we end our feast and strain. 
 
342 GOETHE. 
 
 The cup we'll to the bottom drain ; 
 Let nowhere dregs remain ! 
 
 — After Bowring. 
 
 [Ich hab' mein Sach auf Nichts gestellt, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Drum ist's so wohl mir in der Welt; 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Und wer will mein Camerade sein, 
 Der stosse mit an, der stimme mit ein, 
 Bei dieser Neige Wein. 
 
 Ich stellt' mein Sach auf Geld und Gut, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Daruber verier ich Freud' und Muth ; 
 
 O weh! 
 Die Miinze rollte hier und dort, 
 Und hascht ich sie an einem Ort, 
 Am andern war sie fort ! 
 
 Auf Weiber stellt' ich nun mein Sach, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Daher mir kam viel Ungemach ; 
 
 O weh! 
 Die Falsche sucht' sich ein ander Theil, 
 Die Treue macht' mir Langeweil', 
 Die Beste war nicht feil. 
 
 Ich stellt' mein Sach auf Reis' und Fahrt, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Und liess meine Vaterlandesart ; 
 
 O weh! 
 Und mir behagt' es nirgends recht, 
 Die Kost war fremd, das Bett war schlecht, 
 Niemand verstand mich recht. 
 
 Ich stellt' mein Sach auf Ruhm und Ehr, 
 Juchhe ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 343 
 
 •Unci sieh! gleich hatt' ein Andrer mehr; 
 
 O weh! 
 Wie ich mich hatt' hervorgethan, 
 Da sahen die Leute scheel mich an, 
 Hatte Keinem recht gethan. 
 
 Ich setzt' mein Sach auf Kampf und Krieg, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Und uns gelang so mancher Sieg; 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Wir zogen in Feindes Land hinein, 
 Dem Freunde sollt's nicht viel besser sein, 
 Und ich verlor ein Bein. 
 
 Nun hab' ich mein Sach auf Nichts gestellt, 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Und mein gehort die ganze Weh; 
 
 Juchhe ! 
 Zu Ende geht nun Sang und Schmaus. 
 Nur trinkt mir alle Neigen aus ; 
 Die letzte muss heraus!] 
 
 TO THE MOON. 
 
 Fillest hill and vale again 
 
 With thy misty light, 
 
 Loosest from the world's cold chain 
 
 All my soul to-night. 
 
 Spreadest round me far and nigh 
 Soothingly thy smile. 
 From thee as from friendship's eyes 
 Sorrow shrinks the while. 
 
 Every echo thrills my heart; 
 Glad and gloomy mood, 
 Joy and sorrow both take part 
 In my solitude. 
 
 J 
 
344 GOETHE. 
 
 Flow along, dear river, flow! 
 Joy for aye is sped; 
 Glee and kisses even so, 
 Yea and troth, have fled. 
 
 Once that price did I possess 
 Which I yearn for yet. 
 And, alas, to my distress 
 Never can forget. 
 
 Murmur, brook, the vale along, 
 Never rest nor stay. 
 Murmur, whisper to my song. 
 The melodious lay. 
 
 Whether in a winter's night 
 Rise thy swollen floods. 
 Or in spring thou hast delight 
 Watering young buds. 
 
 Happy he who, hating none. 
 Leaves the world's dull noise, 
 And with trusty friend alone 
 Quietly enjoys 
 
 What, forever unexpressed. 
 Hid from common sight. 
 Through the mazes of the breast 
 Softly steals by night. 
 
 — Tr. after J. S. Dwight. 
 
 [Fiillest wieder Busch und Thai 
 Still mit Nebelglanz, 
 Losest endlich auch einmal 
 Meine Seele ganz; 
 
 Breitest iiber mein Gefild 
 Lindernd deinen Blick, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS EPIGRAMS AND POEMS. 345 
 
 Wie des Freundes Auge mild 
 Ueber mein Geschick. 
 
 Jeden Nachklang fiihlt mein Herz 
 Froh- und triiber Zeit, 
 Wandle zwischen Freud' und Schmerz 
 In der Einsamkeit. 
 
 Fliesse, fliesse, lieber Fluss! 
 Nimmer werd' ich froh ! 
 So verrauschte Scherz und Kuss, 
 Und die Treue so. 
 
 Ich besass es doch einmal, 
 Was so kostlich ist, 
 Dass man doch zu seiner Qual 
 Nimmer es vergisst. 
 
 Rausche, Fluss, das Thai entlang 
 Ohne Rast und Ruh, 
 Rausche, fliistre meinem Sang 
 Melodien zu ! 
 
 Wenn du in der Winternacht 
 Wiithend iiberschwillst 
 Oder um die Frtihlingspracht 
 Junger Knospen quillst. 
 
 Selig, wer sich von der Welt 
 Ohne Hass verschliesst, 
 Einen Freund am Busen halt 
 Und mit ihm geniesst. 
 
 Was von Menschen nicht gewusst, 
 Oder nicht bedacht, 
 Durch das Labyrinth der Brust 
 Wandelt in der Nacht.J 
 
346 GOETHE. 
 
 These are fair examples of Goethe's wisdom in verse. They 
 could be multiplied almost without limit, and many of them have 
 become household words, known in translation in the languages 
 of all civilized countries. 
 
 Goethe's greatness consists in the humanity of his character. 
 He is a man, an extraordinarily normal man. He incorporates 
 in himself everything human. He is a warm lover, he is a faith- 
 ful friend, he is a devout worshiper. He is not a Christian, but 
 he is not un-Christian or anti-Christian. On the contrary he 
 exhibits an intense interest in Christian faith and doctrine. 
 Nevertheless his mind has room for other religions, and his 
 Christian attitude is only one among many. It is peculiar of 
 Goethe that he believes in positive faith and declares that only 
 the ages which stand for some definite statements of truth have 
 been efficient in history ; that negativism, be it ever so ingenious, 
 has never produced enduring results. 
 
 Goethe is not a philosopher but he is a thinker. He is not 
 a scientist, but has contributed some results of scientific thought 
 to the history of science and foresaw the truth of evolution 
 when that doctrine was still limited to a narrow circle of ad- 
 vanced naturalists. He is an unbeliever, an infidel, in the view 
 of orthodox theology, but a devotee of the divinity of nature, 
 yea, we may say a high priest at her altar. 
 
 This book on Goethe is not intended to exhaust the entire 
 field, but to serve as an introduction to his work and to set forth 
 in general outlines the significance of his world conception in the 
 literature of humanity, though there are many branches of his 
 literary activity which have scarcely been touched upon. If we 
 have contributed our mite to increase the general comprehension 
 of his thought and aspiration we deem our labors richly re- 
 warded. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Italic figures denote the pages where may be found a complete translation 
 followed by the German text. 
 
 "A fellow says : 'I own no school nor 
 college,' " 3SS. 
 
 "A lie when spoken, when written 
 too," 334. 
 
 A priori, 242. 
 
 Achim Baerwalde, A. von, 131. 
 
 Aennchen. See "Schonkopf, Kitty." 
 
 Agrippa von Nettesheim, 98, 289, 291. 
 
 Ahasverus, 33. 
 
 Aja, Frau. See "Goethe, Catharine 
 Elizabeth." 
 
 Aldobrand wedding,. 158. 
 
 Alexander VI, Pope, 287. 
 
 "Alexis and Doris, an Idyl," 45. 
 
 Amalia, Duchess. See "Anna Amalia, 
 Duchess of Saxe-Weimar." 
 
 America, Poem on, 60, 61; G's ref- 
 erences to, 57. 
 
 Amos, 19s. 
 
 Animals, Metamorphosis of, 249. 
 
 Anna Amalia, Duchess of Saxe-Wei- 
 mar, 29-31, 33, 42, 109, 11S-118, IS4. 
 248; Circle of, 118; Death of, S3; 
 Portraits of, 116, 117. 
 
 Annette. See "Schonkopf, Kitty." 
 
 "Antepirrhema," 260. 
 
 Anti-Christian, G. not, 195, 207, 346. 
 
 Antixenions, 46. 
 
 Apollo bust of G., 143. 
 
 Appointments, 36. 
 
 "Apprentice in Magic," 47. 
 
 Ardennes, Campaign in the, 44. 
 
 Arendswald, 64. 
 
 Aristotle, 230, 287. 
 
 Arndt, 55. 
 
 Arnim, Bettina von (ncc Brentano), 
 S3-S4. 70, 103, 131-134. 167; Por- 
 traits of, 54, 131. 
 
 Arnim, Ludwig Joachim (Achim) 
 von. Portrait of, 130. 
 
 "Arrogant 'tis surely not," 36. 
 
 Art, Greek, 283 ; in Dresden, 15 ; in 
 G's home, 156; Love of, 149, 168; 
 Love of Gothic, 17; Taste for, in- 
 fluenced by Oeser, 12. 
 
 Artern on the Unstrut, 5, 8. 
 
 "As any one is," 329. 
 
 "At last before the good Lord's 
 throne," 35-36. 
 
 Atman, 229. 
 
 Auerbach's cellar, 313, 314. 
 
 Aufsdtse zur Literatur, gyi. 
 
 Aurea Catena Homeri, 288. 
 
 Autobiography. See "Truth and Fic- 
 tion." 
 
 "Awakening of Epimenides," 55. 
 
 Baccalaureus, 317-319. 
 
 Bacon, Roger, 285. 
 
 Baer, Karl E. von, 250. 
 
 Bahrdt, Karl Friedrich, 33, 273, 274- 
 280; Portrait of, 275. 
 
 Banse, 13. 
 
 Baptism, 187, 189, I97- 
 
 Basedow, Johann Bernhard, 28; Por- 
 trait of, 29. 
 
348 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Beaconsfield, Lord, 4. 
 
 Bebe. See "Schulthess, Barbara." 
 
 Becker, 80. 
 
 Beethoven, 165, 167-168; Sketch of, 
 
 167. 
 Behrisch, II. . 
 "Bequest," 242, 243-244. 
 Bernstein, Countess, 193. 
 Bertuch, Friedrich Justin, 37, 123. 
 "Beyond, The," 228. 
 Bible, The, 193, 19S, 196. 
 Bielowski, 94. 
 Blackie, 288. 
 
 Blucher, Field Marshal, 55. 
 Bode, Wilhelm, aSM. 
 Bodnier, Jakob, 31, 105. 
 Boehme, Jacob, 289. 
 Bohme, Madame, 11. 
 Bohemian taste of G., 156. 
 Boie, Heinrich Christian, 32. 
 Bowring, Edgar Alfred, Translations 
 
 by, 114, 213, 219)1, 220, 227, 253, 
 
 280, 281, 342. 
 Brahman view of soul, 230. 
 Breitkopf, 159. 
 Brentano, Bettina. See "Arnim, Bet- 
 
 tina von." 
 Brentano, Clemens, 130, 132. 
 Brentano, Maximiliana. See "La 
 
 Roche, Maximiliana." 
 "Bride of Corinth," 47. 
 Brion, Friederike, 18, 20, 37, 84-95 \ 
 
 Correspondence with, 92; Falk's 
 
 portrait of, 87 ; Handwriting of, 88 ; 
 
 Lewes on, 87-88; Parting from, 90. 
 Brosigke, 136. 
 
 Biichner, E., Drawings by, 7, 71. 
 Buddhism, 229. 
 Buff, Charlotte Sophie Henriette, 24, 
 
 99-100. 
 Burg, 262. 
 Biirger, 154. 
 
 Burnt offerings, 180-182. 
 Bury, F., Crayons by, 52, 121. 
 "By the conceited man," 2y. 
 Byron, Lord, 4. 
 
 Cabala, 287. 
 
 Caricature, A contemporary," 261 ; of 
 
 Beethoven, 167; of G., 167; of 
 Xenions, 46. 
 
 Carus, Karl Gustav, 156. 
 
 Carus, Paul, Goethe and Schiller's 
 Xenions, 46n ; History of the Devil, 
 soon; Translations by, 27,. 36, 50, 
 SS-S6, 61, 68, 73, 74, 92, iiS,.i23. 
 127, 130, 158, 176, 196, 201-206, '208- 
 210, 212, 213, 219, 220, 223, 224-226, 
 239-240, 243-244, 24S-247, 251, 256- 
 
 257; 259-260, 268, 276-278, 280, 281, 
 304, 326, 327-340. 
 
 Castle Kochberg on the Stein estate, 
 119. 
 
 Catechism, 191. 
 
 Categorical imperative, 242. 
 
 Catherine, Landgravine of Hesse- 
 Darmstadt, 21, 33. 
 
 Catholic ceremonies, 187, 192. 
 
 Charlotte. See "Buff, Charlotte." 
 
 Chodowiecki, 26, 27. 
 
 Christiana. See "Vulpius, Christiana." 
 
 Cliristianity, Attitude toward, 182, 185, 
 193, 195, 196, I97> 208, 213, 222, 274, 
 346. 
 
 "Clarchen's Song," 339-340. 
 
 Classic defined, 167. 
 
 "Clavigo," 32, 91. 
 
 Clermont, Helene Elisabeth von. See 
 "Jacobi, Betty." 
 
 Coat of arms, 36. 
 
 "Color, Doctrine of," 49. 
 
 Confession, 179, 192. 
 
 "Confessions of a Beautiful Soul," 95- 
 98. 
 
 Constantin, Duke, 115. 
 
 Constantine, Prince, 29. 
 
 Contrasts, 222, 223. 
 
 "Conversations with Eckermann,'' 57; 
 Quotations from, 145, 155, 156, 17S- 
 176, 193, 230, 234. 
 
 Copernicus, 242. 
 
 Cornell Studies in Philosophy, 273. 
 
 "Correspondence with a Child" 54, 
 133; with Friederike, 92; with Ja- 
 cobi, 185-187; with Karl August, 
 59»; with Marianne von Willemer, 
 136; with Trap, 81; with Zelter, 
 59". 
 
INDEX 
 
 349 
 
 Cosmopolitan character of G., 57. 
 Cotta, Johann Friedrich. (Baron Cot- 
 
 tendorf), 127, 170. 
 Courtier, G. as a, 167-168. 
 Craford, Alexander W., 273M. 
 Creation, G's early views of, 182-184. 
 "Critic, The," 280. 
 Criticism, G's dislike of, 273, 274, 276 ; 
 
 Higher, 33, 195, 222, 273, 274, 279; 
 
 of G. by Merck, 21 ; of G. by Nico- 
 
 lai, 28; of Homer, 273, 279; of 
 
 Wieland, 33. 
 Cupid feeding a nightingale, 114, 115. 
 Curse of the French girl, 84, 86. 
 
 Darmstadt, Trip to, 21. 
 
 Death of G., 62-63. 
 
 "Dedication," 121. 
 
 Denzler-Ernst, Dr., 106. 
 
 "Descent of Jesus Christ into Hell, 
 Poetical Thoughts on the," 11, 
 
 Deussen, Paul, 128. 
 
 Deutsche Haus, The, 100. 
 
 Devil, Conjuring the, 299, 300; Con- 
 tract with the, 298; Verses on, 337, 
 338. 
 
 "Devil take the human race," 329. 
 
 Diana of the Ephesians, 209. 
 
 "Divine, The," 37, 199, 204-205, 206. 
 
 Doctor degree, 18-19. 
 
 Dogma, 19s, 197. 
 . Dramas, Characters of, 146. 
 
 Dresden Shoemaker, 14, 15. 
 
 Dress, 159. 
 
 "Drop all of transiency,'' 226. 
 
 "Drop the transient," 227. 
 
 Dualism, 230. 
 
 Duisburg, 147. 
 
 Diintzer, 94, 276. 
 
 Dwight, J. S., 344. 
 
 Earth-spirit, .Symbol of the,. 282. 
 Eberlein, Sculpture by, 51. 
 Eckermann, Johann Peter, S7. 136, 
 
 230; Portraits of, 58, 59. See also 
 
 "Conversations with E." 
 "Effect at a Distance," 56, 239-241. 
 "Egmont," 37, 38, 282. 
 
 Ehrenbreitstein, loi. 
 
 Einsiedel, Friedrich Hildebrand von, 
 
 113, 114. 117- 
 "Elective Affinities," 56, 147; Ottilia 
 
 in, 133- 
 Entelechy, 228, 229, 230, 231, 234, 
 
 324»- 
 "Epigrams of Venice," 45. 
 "Epirrhema," 259. 
 Erfurt, Congress of, 55. 
 "Ergo Bibamus," 57. 
 Erlkonig, 48, 109. 
 Eternity, 228. 
 Ettersburg, 108. 
 Evolution, Doctrine of, 43, 57, 251, 
 
 328. 
 
 Fahlmer, Johanna, (Tantchen), 82. 
 
 Faith, 177, 178, 196; Confession of, 
 197. 199- 
 
 "Faithful Eckart," 57- 
 
 Falk, Johann Daniel, 151, 154, 195, 
 2o8«, 230, 233 ; portrait of Friede- 
 rike, 87. 
 
 Father of G. See "Goethe, Johann 
 Caspar." 
 
 Faust legend, 285, 298, 300, 301. 
 
 "Faust" of G : Composition, 20, 33, 
 38, 56, 62, 98, 118; Gretchen in, 77; 
 Significance of, 282-326; Quotations 
 from, 198-199, 214-216, 220-221, 
 228, 272, 273, 282, 283, 287, 289, 
 291-298, 304, 30s, 306, 307-311, 312, 
 313, 31S, 316, 318-319, 320-321, 322- 
 324, 32s, 326. 
 
 "Faust" of other writers, 300, 301. 
 
 Faustus, 283. 
 
 "Fellow Culprits," 13. 
 
 Finances of G., 170. 
 
 Finucci, Francesco, 40. 
 
 "Fisher, The," 37. 
 
 "Fisher Maiden," 108-1 11. 
 
 "Five Things," 340. 
 
 Flachsland, Maria Caroline, 21 ; Por- 
 trait of, 20. 
 
 Fleischer, F., 63. 
 
 Fludd, Robert, 288. 
 
 Frankfort, Bridge Over the Main at, 
 134 ; French occupation of, 9 ; G. 
 
350 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 born in, i ; G. convalescent in, 95 ; 
 Goethe home in, 7; Visits at, 37, 
 
 49, 134, 136. 
 Frankfurter Gelehrten-Anseiger, 32, 
 
 276. 
 Frederick the Great, 9, 30. 
 Friederike. See "Brion, Friederike." 
 Fritsch, Frau Henriette von, {nee 
 
 Wolfskell), 117. 
 Froitzheim, I., 94, 95. 
 "From father my inheritance," 68. 
 Frommel, 133. 
 Froriep, A. von, 52. 
 
 "Ganymede," 199, 203, 206. 
 Garden house, G.'s, 34-36, IS9- 
 Gardening, 159. 
 Gellert, Christian Fiirchtegott, 11, 
 
 162-166; Portraits of, 162, 163; 
 
 Six songs of, 165-166. 
 Genius, 146. 
 Gerstenberg, 32. 
 Gibson, William, Translations by, 124, 
 
 203, 
 Gickelhahn, Hut on the, 217, 218, 219. 
 Giere, Julius, 24. 
 Gingo tree, 222, 223. 
 Gleim, Johann Ludwig, 152-155. 
 Gnomide. See "Gochhausen, Frau- 
 
 lein von. 
 Gochhausen, Fraulein von, 117-118. 
 "God and the Bajadere," 47. 
 "God and World," 242. 
 God, Conception of, 177, 180, 208; 
 
 Description of, 220; Faust's belief 
 
 in, 199; of Old Testament, 178, 1B5; 
 
 Personality of, 329. 
 God-Nature, Conception of, 50. 
 "God, Sentiment and the World," 219. 
 "Gods, Heroes and Wieland," 33. 
 Goethe, Alma Sedina Henrietta Cor- 
 nelia von, 65, 136. 
 Goethe, August von, 42 ; Death of, 61 ; 
 
 Marriage- of, 136 ; Portraits of, 44, 
 
 S3, 62. 
 Goethe, Catharine Elizabeth, i, 8, 
 
 67-73; Death of, 54; Portrait of, 68. 
 Goethe, Christiana. See "Vulpius, 
 
 Christiana." 
 
 Goethe, Cornelia, 8, 72, 77-82, 83, 149; 
 
 Portraits of, 77, 78. 
 Goethe, Johann Caspar, i, 8; Death 
 
 of, 38; Portrait of, 69. 
 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang, Drawings 
 
 by, 10, 39, 77, 89, 119, 122, 123, ISO, 
 
 151, 152, 153, 263; Portraits of: By 
 
 Bury, 52; by himself, 150; byKolbe, 
 
 139 ; by Lips, 265 ; by Maclise, 167 ; 
 
 by May, 67; by Rumpf, 172; by 
 
 Schmeller, 59; by Schwerdgeburth, 
 
 14S, 169 ; by Tischbein, 40, 41 ; by 
 
 Trippel, 144; on the Gickelhahn, 
 
 218. 
 Goethe, Ottilie von {nee Von Pog- 
 
 wisch), 63, 168; Portrait of, 137. 
 Goethe, Walther Wolfgang, 63, 136, 
 
 158. 
 Goethe, Wolfgang Maximilian von, 
 
 64, 136. 
 Goethe Family of Frankfort, 70. 
 Goethe-Gesellschaft, 149. 
 Goethe Museum at Weimar {Goethe- 
 
 Nationalmuseum) , 23, 58, 63, 97, 158. 
 "Goetz von Berlichingen," 20, 28, 
 
 91, 265, 282. 
 Gore, Charles, 117. 
 Gore, Elise, 117. 
 Gore, Emilie, 117. 
 Gossip, 175. 
 
 Gbttinger Deutsche Museum, 32. 
 Gottinger Musenalmanach, 154. 
 Gottsched, Johann Christoph, 159- 
 
 162 ; Portraits of, 161, 162. 
 Graif, Anton, 109, 163. 
 Grandchildren of G. in poet's house, 
 
 64. 
 "Great is Diana of the Ephesians," 
 
 208-210. 
 Greece, Art of, 17, 283; Civilization 
 
 of, 229 ; Gods of, 207, 208, 222, 274 ; 
 
 World-conception of, 204, 207. 
 Gretchen, gi, 92; Connection with, 
 
 74-77, 80; in "Faust," 77. 
 Grimm, Hermann, 70. 
 Grimm, Ludwig E., 262. 
 Grpger, 31. 
 Gustphen. See "Stolberg, Countess 
 
 Augusta von." 
 
INDEX 
 
 351 
 
 Gutermann, loi. 
 
 Gwinner, Wilhelm von, 128. 
 
 Hackert, Philipp, 40. 
 
 Hadrian, 237. 
 
 Haid, 163 ; Engraving by, 26. 
 
 Hainbund, 31. 
 
 Haller, Albrecht von, Portrait of, 250. 
 
 Handwriting of Friederike, 88; of 
 
 Goethe, 126, 335; of Schopenhauer, 
 
 126. 
 Hardenberg, Friedrich von (Novalis) 
 
 271, 272. 
 Harper's song, 37, 304. 
 Hasenkampf, Rector, 147. 
 "Hast immortality in mind," 331. 
 Hatfield, Prof. J. T., 223, 269. 
 Hayward, 289. 
 "He only who knows longing's pain," 
 
 37. 
 
 Health of G., 143-146, I73-I74- 
 
 Heine, Heinrich, 272; Portrait of, 
 270. 
 
 Held, L., 156. 
 
 Helen, 283. 
 
 Henckel von Donnersmarck, Coun- 
 tess, 136. 
 
 Herder, Johann Gottfried von, 15-16, 
 28, 32, 38, los, 117, 197, 264, 26s, 
 268, 272, 282, 289 ; Portrait of, 262 ; 
 Portrait of his wife, 20. 
 
 Herdt, Frau, 22. 
 
 "Hermann and Dorothea," 45. 
 
 Heroes of G's works, 282. 
 
 Herzlieb, Minna, 56, 133-134; Por- 
 trait of, 132. 
 
 Heygendorf, Frau von. See "Jage- 
 mann, Karoline." 
 
 Heynacher, Max, 2iin. 
 
 Hirzel, Solomon, 68. 
 
 Homburg, loi. 
 
 Homer, Aurea Catena of, 288 ; Higher 
 criticism of, 273, 279. 
 
 Homunculus, Wagner preparing his, 
 
 317, 318- 
 Horen, Die, 45, 170. 
 Horn, Johann Adam, g-u; Portrait 
 
 of, 10. 
 Horoscope, cast by A. J. Pearce, 2; 
 
 described by G., i ; described by 
 
 R. Shirley, 2. 
 Humanity of G., 142, 224, 346. 
 Hummel, J. N., 226. 
 "Hundred years thou mayest worship 
 
 fire," 337. 
 "Hunter's Evening Song,'' 105. 
 Hypochondria, 174. 
 
 "I know that naught belongs to me," 
 
 331- 
 "If the ass that bore the Saviour," 
 
 ^13- 
 
 "It yestreen's account be clear," 33$. 
 
 Immortal of Faust, 234, 324. 
 
 Immortality, Belief in, 225, 226, 229, 
 234-235. 331; Egyptian, 227; Rea- 
 sons for, 331. 
 
 Improvisation, 154-155. 
 
 "In nothing have I placed my trust," 
 
 57, 340. 
 "In the wilderness a holy man," 2I3- 
 
 213- 
 
 Infidel, G. an, 195, 196, 222, 346. 
 "Interlude, An," 226. 
 Intermaxillary bone, 57, 249, 255. 
 "Iphigenia in Tauris," 37, 38, loS, 108. 
 Isaiah, 195. 
 
 "It matters not I ween," 227. 
 Italy, 38, 42, 158, 237. 
 Ixion, 212. 
 
 Jacobi, Betty {nee Von Clermont), 
 82. 
 
 Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich, 29, 82, 201, 
 273; Death of, 187; Portrait of, 
 186; "On Divine Things," 185-187. 
 
 Jacobi, Max, 249. 
 
 Jacoby, Giinther, 282. 
 
 Jagemann, Drawing by, 264; Paint- 
 ing by, 117. 
 
 Jagemann, Karoline (Frau von Hey- 
 gendorf), 127-130; Portrait of, 128. 
 
 Jahrbuch der Schopenhauer-Gesell- 
 schaft, 128. 
 
 Jappe, Thomas H., 269. 
 
 Jena, Battle of, 52. 
 
 Jenaische Literaturzeitung, Die, 37. 
 
352 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Jerusalem, Carl Wilhelm, 22-24, 99! 
 
 Portrait of,. 23. 
 Job, Satan accusing, 306, 307. 
 "Johanna Sebus," 57. 
 Joseph II, 36. 
 Jung, Marianne. See "Willemer, 
 
 Marianne von." 
 Jung, Matthias, 135. 
 Jung- Stilling, Johann Heinrich, 16, 
 
 187 ; Portrait of, 18. 
 Juvenilia, 77, 149, 150, 151, 152, iS3- 
 
 Kanne, Dr. Karl, 84. 
 
 Kant, 242. 
 
 Karl, Duke of Brunswick, 115. 
 
 Karl August, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 
 30, 31, 36, S8, IIS, 158, 168, 174; 
 Correspondence with, S9»» ; Death of, 
 61 ; Marriage of, 33 ; Portraits of, 
 
 34. 169- 
 Karl Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Wei- 
 mar, 58-60. 
 Karlsbad, 38, 171, 173. 
 Kauiifmann, Angelica, 40; Paintings 
 
 by, 42, 116. 
 Kaulbach, Pictures by, 25, 75, 85, 104, 
 
 107. 
 Kestner, Georg, 24, 99. 
 Kestner, Johann Christian, 22, 99; 
 
 Portrait of, 24. 
 Kleist, Herr von, 25. 
 Klettenberg, Susanna Catharina von, 
 
 9S-98, 187, 193-194; Portrait of, 97. 
 Klimsch, Eugen, 90. 
 Klinger, Friedrich Maximilian, 32, 
 
 26s, 301 ; Portrait of, 263. 
 Klopstock, 29, 31. 
 Knebel, Karl Ludwig von, 29, 228; 
 
 Portrait of, 30. 
 "Know thou thyself!" 33s. 
 Koerner, 55. 
 Konnecke, 3S». 
 Kotzebue, 49. 
 Kraus, Georg Melchior, 108, 109,115; 
 
 Pictures by, no, iii, 112, 118. 
 Kreling, A. von, 290. 
 Kunstraeyer. See "Meyer, Johann 
 
 Heinrich." 
 
 Lamarck, 250. 
 
 Language of G., 221. 
 
 Laprade, de, on America, 60. 
 
 La Roche, Maximihana, 101-102, 132; 
 Portrait of, 102. 
 
 La Roche, Sophie von, 101-103. 
 
 Lasst fahren hin, 226-227. 
 
 Lavater, Johann .Caspar, 17, 28, 29, 
 31, 147, 193-194; Joke played on, 
 274-275 ; Physio gnomische Frag- 
 mente, 69 ; Portrait of, 194. 
 
 "Leaf of Eastern tree transplanted," 
 223. 
 
 Leibnitz, 231. 
 
 Leipsic, G. at the University of, 11- 
 iS, 159, 162; Battle of, 134. 
 
 Leipziger Licderhuch, 13. 
 
 Lenau, 301. 
 
 Lenz, Jacob Michael Reinhold, 16, 32, 
 87, 88, 94; Portrait of, 17. 
 
 Lerse, 16. 
 
 Lessing, 23, 201, 264, 265, 268, 272, 
 301. 
 
 Levetzow, Friedrich von, 136. 
 
 Levetzow, Ulrike von, 136-139; Min- 
 iature of, 138. 
 
 Lewes, George Henry, on Friederike, 
 87-88. 
 
 Lichtenfels, Georg Michael Frank von 
 (La Roche), 102. 
 
 Liezen-Mayer, A., 291, 294. 
 
 "Life I never can divide," 223. 
 
 Lili. See "Schoenemann, Anna Eli- 
 sabeth." 
 
 "Lili's Park," 104, 105. 
 
 "Limitations of Mankind," 37, 199, 
 204, 203-206, 225. 
 
 Lips, Johann Hieronymus, 18, 34, 194, 
 265. 
 
 Lisbon, Earthquake at, 177. 
 
 Loewe, Karl, 47, 64; Portrait of, 48. 
 
 Lolo, 82. 
 
 Longfellow, 216, 218. 
 
 Lord, William S., 269. 
 
 Lord's Supper, 187-189, 192. 
 
 Lotta, Werther's, 25. See also "Buff, 
 Charlotte." 
 
 Louis Bonaparte. See "Napoleon 
 III." 
 
INDEX 
 
 353 
 
 Louise, Duchess, 33, 38, 115. 
 Lucifer, 183-184. 
 Luden, Prof., 171. 
 Luther, 192, 193, 283. 
 Lyser, J. P., 167. 
 
 Maclise, Daniel, 167. 
 
 Macrocosm, Symbol of the, 287-288. 
 
 Magic, 28s, 289, 299. 
 
 Mahomet, 33. 
 
 "Mahomet and Tancred," 49. 
 
 Malaprop, A German, 174. 
 
 Manilius, 288. 
 
 "Many cooks will spoil the broth," 
 
 33S- 
 Marie Louise, Poem to Empress, 57. 
 Marlowe, Christopher, 300, 301. 
 Marriage, of G., 53, 124; Sacrament 
 
 of, 189. 
 Marx, Frau Pfarrer, 92. 
 Masonry, 37, 60, 227, 242. 
 Materialist, G. not a, 238. 
 May, G. O., 67. 
 Mayence, Siege of, 44. 
 Mayne, Dr. H., 108. 
 Meixner, Charitas, 81-82. 
 Mendelssohn, 64. 
 Mephistopheles, and the Student, 291, 
 
 292; Contract with, 283, 291-298; 
 
 Features of, taken from Merck, 22. 
 Merck, Johann Heinrich, 21-22, 32, 
 
 loi ; Portrait of, 21. 
 "Metamorphosis of Animals, The,'' 
 
 57, 256-259- 
 "Metamorphosis of Plants, The," 43, 
 
 IS9, 252-255- 
 Metempsychosis, 236. 
 Meyer, Johann Heinrich, 53, 116, 141, 
 
 229. 
 Microcosm, 288. 
 Mignon, in "Wilhelm Meister," 107, 
 
 304. 
 Milton, 29, 211, 220. 
 Mirandola, Giovanni Pico, Count of, 
 
 285-289; Portrait of, 286. 
 Monad, 228, 228, 231-233, 234, 237. 
 Monist, The, 22gn. 
 Monotheism, 208, 211. 
 "More Light" (painting), 63. 
 
 Mother of G. See "Goethe, Catharine 
 
 Elizabeth." 
 Muller (pseud, of G.), 38. 
 Miiller, Friedrich {Maler), 263*1, 265. 
 Muller, Friedrich von (Chancellor), 
 
 146, 175, 234, 248; Portrait of, 236. 
 Muller, Heinrich, 137. 
 Musenalmanach, 32, 45, 46, 61, 252^. 
 "Muses and the Graces in the Mark," 
 
 46. 
 Mysticism, 229, 233 ; Love of, 285. 
 
 Naeke's "Pilgrimage to Sesenheim,'' 
 92-93, 94. 
 
 Napoleon I, Interview with, 55 ; Poem 
 to wife of, 57. 
 
 Napoleon HI, 195. 
 
 Napoleonic wars, 57; Frankfort in, 
 72. 
 
 "Natural Daughter, The," 49. 
 
 Nature, Devotee of, 346; G's rhap- 
 .sody on, 245-242; the ideal of ro- 
 manticists, 271. 
 
 "Nature and Art," 268-271. 
 
 "Nature, Elucidation to the Aphoristic 
 Essay on," 248-250. 
 
 Nature's within from mortal mind," 
 
 251- 
 
 Negativism, 346. 
 
 Neues Deutsches Museum, 32. 
 
 "New Love, New Life," 105. 
 
 Ney, Elisabet, 128, 129. 
 
 Nicolai, Christoph Friedrich, 27-28, 
 238; Portrait of, 26. 
 
 Nirvana of G., 242. 
 
 Noon, 269. 
 
 Nostradamus, 289. 
 
 Novalis. See "Hardenberg, Fried- 
 rich von." 
 
 Novels, Pathological character of G's, 
 147- 
 
 Objectivity of G's genius, 146, 147. 
 
 Occult Review, The, 2. 
 
 Oeser, Adam Friedrich, 12; Painting 
 
 by, 13. 
 Oeser, Friederike Elisabeth, 13. 
 "On Mieding's Death," Quotation 
 
 from, 114. 
 
354 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 "One and All," 242, 243. 
 
 "One could a well-bred child beget," 
 
 334- 
 "Only this time be not caught as yet," 
 
 74- 
 Open Court, The, S2«, 229». 
 Oppenheim, Moritz, 270. 
 Orient and Occident, Verses on, 328. 
 Orientalism, 229, 236. 
 Ottilie in "Elective Affinities," 133. 
 "Our rides in all directions bend," 281. 
 Oxenford, John, i». 
 
 Pagan, G. a, i8s, 207, 212, 222. 
 
 Pantheism of G., 186, 207, 245, 248. 
 
 "Parabasis," 259. 
 
 Paracelsus, 98, 287, 288. 
 
 Parthey, Dr. G., 174. 
 
 Pathological phenomena, 233. 
 
 Pearce, A. J., Horoscope cast by, 2. 
 
 Personality of God, 329; of Goethe, 
 66, 143-176. 
 
 Pessimism, 282; Answer to, 127. 
 
 Pfenninger, 17. 
 
 Pharisee, 225. 
 
 Philosophy, Dislike for, 222; Orien- 
 tal, 229. 
 
 Plants, Metamorphosis of, 249. 
 
 Platonism, 287. 
 
 Pogwisch, Ottilie von. See "Goethe, 
 Ottilie von." 
 
 Polytheistic tendencies, 182, 186, 204, 
 207, 208, 211. 
 
 Posthumous Works, 60, 93M. 
 
 Potonie, H., 222W. 
 
 Prayer, 196. 
 
 Priest, The youthful, 181. 
 
 Proemium, 338-339- 
 
 "Prologue to the Latest Revelations 
 of God interpreted by Dr. Karl 
 Friedrich Bahrdt," 276-279. 
 
 Prometheus compared to Faust, 282; 
 compared to Satan, 211; Fable of, 
 201 ; Poem on, 33, 199, 200, 201-203, 
 206. 
 
 "Proposal," 73. 
 
 "Prose Sayings," 234. 
 
 Protestantism, 179, 187, 191, 192, 273, 
 300, 304. 
 
 "Quiet scholar a party attended," 329. 
 
 Raab, Doris, 133. 
 
 Radl, A., 134. 
 
 Rahmhof, The, 9. 
 
 Raphael, 53. 
 
 Redemption, 184. 
 
 Reformation, 192, 193, 283. 
 
 Reincarnation, 229, 236. 
 
 Religion of progress, 197. 
 
 Rembrandt, P., 288. 
 
 Residences of G., 7, 19, 157, 158. 
 
 "Restless Love," 121. 
 
 Resurrection, 225. 
 
 "Reynard, the Fox," 44. 
 
 "Rhenish Must," 176. 
 
 Riemer, Friedrich Wilhelm, 49, 57, 
 
 20S», 234; Portrait of, 235. 
 Rieter-Ziegler, Rudolf, 42M. 
 Riggi, Maddalena, 38, 40; Portrait 
 
 of, 42. 
 Rincklacke, 31. 
 
 Romanticism, 282; Revival of, 272. 
 Rosebery, Lord, 4. 
 Roslein auf der Haiden, 20. 
 Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 263. 
 
 Sachsenhausen, Watch-tower of, 149, 
 
 iSi- 
 
 Sacraments, 187-190, 197. 
 
 "Sadducee I'll be fore'er," 225. 
 
 St. John's day fires, 176. 
 
 St. Leonhard, Church of, igi, 152. 
 
 St. Peter's, View of, 39. 
 
 Salvation, 316; of Faust, 325-326; 
 Scheme of, 184, 191. 
 
 Salzmann, 16. 
 
 Sartoux, Count, 8. 
 
 Satan, 2ii; accusing Job, 306, 307. 
 
 Scheible, 299. 
 
 Scheppen, A., 3. 
 
 Schiller, Friedrich, 38, IJZ^, 197, 2S2«, 
 26s, 267, 268; Association with, 45- 
 47; Death of, 49; G.-table in gar- 
 den of, so; Portrait of, 264; Skull 
 of, 50-52; Success of, 49. 
 
 Schlegel brothers, 272. 
 
 Schlosser, Johann Georg, 11, 81, 83, 
 159 ; Portrait of, 80. 
 
INDEX 
 
 355 
 
 Schmeller, J. J., Drawings by, 44, 113, 
 
 120, 236; Painting by, 59. 
 Schmidt, Erich, 94, 118. 
 Schoenemann, Anna Elisabeth, 31, 38, 
 
 103-105; Portrait of, 103. 
 Schonkopf, Kitty, 84, 91, 92; Portrait 
 
 of, 83. 
 Schopenhauer, Arthur, 127-130; Bust 
 
 of, 129; Couplet dedicated to, 125- 
 
 127; Love poem by, 130. 
 Schopenhauer, Johanna, 124; and her 
 
 daughter Adele, Portrait of, 125. 
 Schroter, Corona, 108-115; Portraits 
 
 of, 109, 112. 
 Schubert, Franz, 47, 48, 109, 218; 
 
 Portrait of, 47. 
 Schuler, 82. 
 Schulthess, Barbara {nee Wolf), 105- 
 
 108; Portrait of, 106. 
 Schultz, O., 156. 
 Schwabe, Carl Leberecht, 50. 
 Schwanenfeld, Franz von, 173-174. 
 Schweppenhauser, Pastor, 93. 
 Schwerdgeburth, 14s, 169. 
 Science and religion, 196. 
 "Second Sojourn in Rome,'' 40. 
 Seekatz, J. C, 70. 
 Self-control, 272. 
 Sesenheim, 92; Parsonage at, 86, 89; 
 
 View of, 91. 
 Shirley, Ralph, 2. 
 Simm, Franz, 284, 295, 303, 307, 313, 
 
 317. 318, 319- 
 
 Simplicity of G's tastes, 156, 168. 
 
 "Singer, The," 37- 
 
 Sisyphus, 212. 
 
 Skepticism of Haller, 250. 
 
 Skull, Origin of the, 249. 
 
 Socrates, 33. 
 
 "Song of the Spirits Over the Water," 
 38, 224-225. 
 
 Soul, a unity of system, 233; Brah- 
 man view of, 230; Conception of 
 the, 224, 228, 229; -forms. Preser- 
 vation of, 237-238. 
 
 Soret, M., 146. 
 
 Spinoza, 29, 185. 
 
 Spiritualist, G. not a, 238. 
 
 Staubbach, Visit to, 38. 
 
 Stein, Charlotte von (nee Schardt), 
 
 37. 38, 119-121, 142, 237; Death of, 
 
 61 ; Portraits of, 140, 141. 
 Stein, Friedrich Constantin von, 
 
 (Fritz), Portrait of, 120. 
 "Stella," 33- 
 Stevens, H., 165. 
 Stichling, Councilor, 262. 
 Stieler, Joseph, 267. 
 Stillen im Lande, Die, 16, 179. 
 Stolberg, Count Christian von, 31, 105. 
 Stolberg, Count Friedrich Leopold 
 
 von, 31, los, 154. 
 Stolberg, Countess Augusta von, 105. 
 Storber, A., 86. 
 "Storm and Stress," a drama by 
 
 Klinger, 263; Period of, 34, 147, 
 
 i99«, 26s, 267, 271, 300. 
 Strassburg, 15-20, 84. 
 Study, G's, 156. 
 Sturm und Drang, iggn. See also 
 
 "Storm and Stress." 
 Suicide, G's view of, 148; of Jerusa- 
 lem, 22, 99; of Merck, 22; of von 
 
 Kleist, 25. 
 Suleika, 57, 136. 
 Sun worship, 179. 
 Switzerland, Journeys to, 31, 37, 49, 
 
 158. 
 Symbol of the Earth-spirit, 282; of 
 
 the macrocosm, 287-288. 
 Symonds, J. A., Translations by, 338, 
 
 339- 
 
 Tact, Illustration of, 147. 
 
 Tantalus, 212. 
 
 "Tasso," 37, 38, lOS, I74, 282. 
 
 Taylor, Bayard, in, 221, 287. 
 
 Telepathy, 238, 241. 
 
 Teplitz, 167, 173. 
 
 Textor, Anna Margaretha, Portrait 
 
 of, 4- 
 Textor, Johann Wolfgang (Schult- 
 
 heiss), I, 8; Portrait of, 3- 
 Textor Homestead, 6. 
 Thackeray, 167. 
 Theater in Weimar, 43, 45, 127; in 
 
 Frankfort, French, 9; Resigned as 
 
 director of, 57. 
 
356 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 Theism, 29. 
 
 Theophilus legend, 301, 302. 
 
 Theophrastus, 98. 
 
 "This truth may be by all believed," 
 
 220. 
 
 Thorane, Count of, 9; Portrait of, 8. 
 
 Thorwaldsen, 62. 
 
 Thusnelda. See "Gochhausen, Frau- 
 
 lein von." 
 Tieck, Ludwig, 92, 272; Poftr-ait of, 
 
 267. 
 "Time mows roses," 332. 
 Tischbein, 40, 123; Drawing by, 40; 
 
 Paintings by, 41, 106. 
 Titanic genius. Spirit of, 199. 
 Titans, 211. 
 
 "To a Golden Heart," 105. 
 "To Belinde," 105. 
 "To Linda," 121. 
 
 "To the Moon," 36, 86, 94, 343-345- 
 Transformationist, G. a, 251. 
 Trap, Correspondence with, 81. 
 Traveling, Fondness for, 158, 168. 
 "Treasure Digger," 47. 
 Treviranus, 250. 
 "Trilogy of Passion," 138. 
 Trippel, Alexander, 143, 144. 
 "True Enjoyment," 74. 
 "Truth and Fiction," 9, 56, 66; Frie- 
 
 derike in, 92; Quotations from, i, 
 
 9, 10, II, 12, 28, 76, 83, 91, 92, 149, 
 
 159. 177-185, 193-194, 195. 211, 274- 
 Tiirckheim, Bernhard Friedrich von, 
 
 105. 
 
 "Ugolino," 32. 
 
 "United States, The," 61. 
 
 Valentinus, 288. 
 
 "Vanitas! Vanitatum Vanitas!" 57, 
 
 340-343- 
 Varnhagen von Ense, 93. 
 Vicar of Wakefield, 85, 86. 
 Vienna, Invitation to, 173. 
 Villeter, Dr. Gustav, 108. 
 Volkshuch, 300. 
 Volpato, Giovanni, 38. 
 Voltaire, 49. 
 Volterra, 306. 
 
 Voss, 154. 
 
 Vulpius, Christian August, 41 ; Por- 
 trait of, 43. 
 
 Viilpius, Christiana, 41, 49, 121-124, 
 IS9, 168, 252; Death of, 57, 136; 
 Drawings of, 122, 123 ; Marriage 
 to G., S3, 124; Poems to, 123, 124, 
 252; Portraits of, 53, 121, 122, 123. 
 
 Wagner, Otto, 35, 158. 
 Walch, Professor, 133. 
 WWpurgis Night, 284, 285. 
 "Wanderer's Night Songs, 121, 217, 
 
 219. 
 Wanderers Sturmlied, 22. 
 "Wandering Bell," 57- 
 "War waged the angels for the right," 
 
 337- 
 
 Waterloo, Battle of, 136. 
 
 Weimar, G's home at, IS5-IS8; Oc- 
 cupation of, 52; Theater at, 43, 45, 
 127; Visit to, 33. 
 
 Weinlig, 64. 
 
 Weisbach, Dr. Werner, 42n. 
 
 Welling, 288. 
 
 "Were to the sun not kin our eyne," 
 
 327- 
 Wernekke, 227. 
 "Werther, The Joys of Young," 27- 
 
 28. 
 "Werther, The Sorrows of," 24-28, 99, 
 
 146, 147, 149, 174, 265, 282. 
 "Werther's Grave," 28. 
 West-Eastern Divan, 37, 136. 
 Wetzlar, G. at, 99; View of, 22. 
 "When eagerly a child looks round," 
 
 336. 
 "When head and heart are busy, say," 
 
 334- 
 "When in the infinite appeareth," 330. 
 "Whim of the Lover," 13. 
 "Who never ate with tears his bread," 
 
 37, 304- 
 "Who on God is grounded," 220. 
 "Who plays with life," 334. 
 "Why do you scoff and scout," 329. 
 "Why keepest thou aloof ?" 333. 
 "Why stand they there outside?" 158. 
 Widmann, 299. 
 
INDEX 
 
 357 
 
 Wiederholte Spiegelungen, 93», 94. 
 
 Wieland, Christoph Martin, 30-31, 37, 
 84, 102, ISS, 268; Corona Schroter 
 described by, 112; Criticism of, 33; 
 Portrait of, 32; Soul of, 231. 
 
 "Wilhelm Meister," 37, 38, 45, 95, lOS, 
 147, 282; Mignon in, 107; Quota- 
 tions from, 95-98, 196, 304. 
 
 "Wilhelm Meister's Journey Years," 
 56. 
 
 Wilhelm Meisters theairalische Sen- 
 dung, 108. 
 
 Willemer, Johann Jacob von, 134, 135. 
 
 Willemer, Marianne von (nee Jung), 
 57. 135-136; Portraits of, 133, 135. 
 
 "Winckelmann and his Century," 49. 
 
 Wine, 168, 170, 171. 
 
 Wolf, Friedrich August, 273, 280. 
 
 Women, Relation to, 66, 73-74, 139- 
 141. 
 
 World-conception, of Faust, 316; of 
 G., 244, 272-273 ; of Greece, 204, 207. 
 
 "World has not been made of mush 
 and pies," 335. 
 
 "Would from tradition break away," 
 336. 
 
 "Wouldst thou ever onward roam?" 
 
 335- 
 Wunderer, Fraulein von, 98. 
 
 "Xenions and Kindred Poems," 46, 61. 
 
 "Ye faithful," 196. 
 
 Yelpers, Critics are, 281. 
 
 "You have the Devil underrated," 338. 
 
 Zelter, Karl Friedrich, 47, 61 ; Cor- 
 respondence with, sgn; Portrait of, 
 148. 
 
 Zimmermann, Johann Georg, 32. 
 
 Zurich, Visit in, 105, 108.