-PT 
 
 ^21 
 
 L*+ CORNELL 
 
 cc-i UNIVERSITY 
 
 IJB'RARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 
 PT 2027.L4C69 
 
 Letters to Zelter. 
 
 3 1924 026 192 819 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 9240261 9281 9 
 
BOHN'S STANDARD LIBBABY. 
 
 GOETHE'S LETTERS TO ZELTER. 
 
"^^OETHE'S LETTEES TO. ZELTER, 
 
 WITH EXTRACTS TEOM THOSE OP ZBITEE TO GOETHE, 
 
 SELECTED, TRANSLATED, AND 
 ANNOTATED 
 
 BY 
 
 i/DTtOL 
 
 A-TDrCOLBRIDGB, M.A., 
 
 LATE FELLOW OF KIKG'S COLLEGE, CAMBKlUGifi. 
 
 LOlSTDOlSr: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, 
 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1887. 
 

 UN^VEa£!TYi 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS :— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCEKV LANE. 
 
 n 
 
THE FOLLOWING VERSION OF LETTERS 
 
 SELECTED FROM 
 
 GOETHE'S CORRESPONDENCE WITH ZELTER, 
 
 IS INSCRIBED TO THE MBMOBT OF 
 
 HENRY BEADSHAW, M.A., 
 
 LATE LIBRARIAN OP THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, WHOSE 
 
 WISDOM AND LEARNING 
 
 CAN BE BEST APPRECIATED BT THE WISE AND LEARNED, 
 
 BUT WHOSE LOVABLE QUALITIES WERE KNOWN BT HEART 
 
 TO HIS CONTEMPORARY AT SCHOOL AND COLLEGE, 
 
 AND FRIEND FOR MORE THAN 
 
 FORTY YEARS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ANT new light thrown upon Goethe's genius and cha- 
 racter should be welcome to the student of German 
 literature. The recent production of the Jahrbuch, and 
 the affiliation of the English Goethe Society to the Weimar 
 Goethe-GesellscJiaft, have so stimulated the interest of readers 
 in the publication of new matter afiecting Goethe, that it is 
 hoped the present volume may be opportune rather than 
 otherwise. Many years ago, I studied the Goethe-Zelter 
 Correspondence, with the wish to learn all I could about 
 the tutor of Mendelssohn, the friend of Goethe, and " the 
 restorer of Bach to the Germans." Such was the compli- 
 ment paid to Zelter's memon(^ by Abraham, the father of 
 Felix Mendelssohn. How strenuously the son endorsed 
 his father's opinion is a matter of common knowledge to 
 the readers of many works which illustrate the history of 
 the composer's life. But with us Englishmen the pupil's 
 fame has so completely eclipsed that of the teacher, that 
 Zelter is little more than a name. He was no ordinary man. 
 A stonemason by trade, he became a musician by choice, 
 and was so successful in his art-career as ultimately to 
 conduct the SingaJcademie at Berlin. He also achieved the 
 still higher distinction of becoming Goethe's most intimate 
 correspondent. Beginning with mere reports of Berlin 
 gossip, and casual interchange of criticisms on men and 
 things, he ended by drawing out, as few did, the inmost 
 sympathies and chosen confidences of the "Weimar sage. 
 Goethe's respect for Zelter's force of character was appa- 
 rently never neutralized by his dogmatism, or the rash and 
 mistaken opinions traceable here and there throughout the 
 correspondence. "Excellent, but crusty," are the epithets 
 attached to Zelter's name by his pupil, Edward Devrient, 
 
Vlll PKEFACE. 
 
 and the publication of the Goethe- Zelter Correspondence 
 was harshly judged by FeHx Mendelssohn, whose language 
 on the subject o£ his kith and kin, as they are discussed 
 throughout the work, seems to me exaggerated and unfair. 
 After close study, I find no "unhandsome treatment" of 
 any single member of the Mendelssohn family, least of all 
 of the brilliant Felix himself, who thus airs his suscepti- 
 bilities in a letter to his father : — " To return to the 
 much-talked-of correspondence between Groethe and Zelter. 
 One thing struck me on this subject : when in this work 
 Beethoven or anyone else is abused, or my family un- 
 handsomely treated, and many subjects most tediously dis- 
 cussed, I remain quite cool and calm, but when Reichardt 
 is in question, and they both presume to criticise him with 
 great arrogance, I feel in such a rage that I don't know 
 what to do, though I cannot myself explain why this 
 should be so." 
 
 Zelter's scientific pretensions must have been limited in 
 his early days, as apprentice and journeyman, to a know- 
 ledge of bricks and mortar, though later on in life, he 
 became a learned theorist in the nobler art of music. 
 With the characteristic self-confidence of an imperfectly 
 educated but gifted man, he is ready to lay down the law 
 on whatever subject the all-embracing Goethe has started 
 for discussion. Had I included a list of the topics men- 
 tioned in these letters, instead of limiting the index to the 
 names of persons, and of such works of art and literature 
 as are generally known, the result would have been a strange 
 medley. Handel and Bach alternate with Berlin play- 
 bills ; "Werner, Gorres, and Byron with Teltower turnips ; 
 pike, mixed pickles, and game are set off against anti- 
 Newtonian optics. Even if we attach small value to 
 Zelter's estimate of men and things outside his own vo- 
 cation, and find Goethe adopting towards him a more 
 careless and familiar style than he did with Eokermann — 
 the Boswell of his later days — it does not follow that the 
 rough, and at times uncouth and unintelligible language 
 of Zelter should be suppressed. His music has become as 
 obsolete as his criticism, but it must be remembered to his 
 credit, that it had a charm for Goethe, Schiller, Voss, and 
 Tieck. He had a stray taste, too, for literature ; his Auto- 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 liogrwphy, edited by Dr. Rintel, his Life of Fasoh, accom- 
 panyist to Frederick the Great, are readable works. But 
 England's real indebtedness to Zelter consists in the fact 
 that it was he who trained Felix Mendelssohn to an en- 
 during love of Sebastian Bach, the knowledge of whose 
 music it was the younger man's mission to diffuse. " No- 
 thing less," says Devrient, " than the absolute success of 
 the first resuscitation of Bach's masterpiece, (the Passion 
 Music,) on the 11th of March, 1829, could have initiated 
 the subsequent study of this master by the leading musicians 
 of modem times." Beyond a question, we owe to Zelter 
 and his pupil the slow but sure appreciation of the work 
 of that immortal master, who, if Mendelssohn is to be be- 
 lieved in, "is in no one point inferior to any master, and 
 in many points superior to all." We may smile or sneer 
 at many of the oracular utterances of the ex-stonemason, 
 but condone his pardonable self-complacency in the boast, 
 that he knew every note from the pen of his hero, Sebastian 
 Bach, who, says he, " is one of those that ca/nnot altogether 
 he fathomed." 
 
 Even if the extracts I have made from Zelter's own letters 
 are neither "elegant" nor profound, I would fain hope 
 that they will make Goethe's remarks intelligible. I have 
 given as literal a version of these as it was in my power to 
 give, but I have taken the liberty of paraphrasing Zelter's 
 language where it was barely intelligible. My original 
 intention was to have published in their entirety the whole 
 of Goethe's letters contained in the six volumes of corre- 
 spondence, supplementing them with quotations from 
 Zelter's letters, interspersed here and there, as a key to 
 the answers sent by the philosopher to the musician. From 
 necessity rather than from choice, I abandoned the plan, 
 and must own that in the abundant materials I had for 
 two volumes, there was a plentiful " chronicle of small 
 beer." Passing events and trifles which — nearly a century 
 since — -had an interest at Berlin and Weimar, for two 
 intimate friends, are dull and insipid reading now, many 
 of the allusions can only be guessed at, and are riddles to 
 the Germans themselves. Many of the letters, too, are so 
 loosely strung together, that it is a matter of great diffi- 
 culty to pick up the threads of discourse and reflection. 
 
X PEKFACE. 
 
 dropped at intervals of several months, and then taken up 
 again by either of the two correspondents, as if they had 
 formed part and parcel of yesterday's discussion. For 
 these and other reasons, I have allowed Zelter to speak for 
 himself, and limited my selection of letters to such parts 
 of the correspondence as I thought might be of interest to 
 the general reader. 
 
 Of all the works I have consulted as books of reference, 
 I have found Diintzer's Life of Ooethe, (admirably translated 
 and annotated by T. W. Lyster, Esq.,) the most indis- 
 pensable. Since the publication of Lewes's Life of Ooethe, 
 the researches of modern scholars have brought to light 
 much authentic information that was not available twenty 
 years ago, and Diintzer's work is in many respects a running 
 commentary on the more notable parts of this correspon- 
 dence. The Gonoersations of Ooethe mth.JEakerwiwnn, and 
 The Oorrespondence between Schiller and Ooethe, have also 
 been of great service to me. The references throughout 
 are to the English translations of those works by Lyster, 
 Oxenford, and Miss D. Schmitz. 
 
 The translations of the poems, other than those made 
 by E. A. Bowring, Esq., and the lines taken from Long- 
 fellow's translation of Dante, are by my daughter Mary E. 
 Coleridge. 
 
 A. D. C. 
 
 October, 1886. 
 
GOETHE'S LETTERS TO ZELTER. 
 
 1796. 
 
 1. — GoiTHB TO Madame Ungee.* 
 
 Weimar, 13th June, 1796. 
 
 EREATA. 
 
 Page 7, line 36, for Revel, read Reval. 
 
 „ 54, ,, 33,/or Traugott Maximilian, rea(^ Karl. 
 „ 72, „ 19, for Augerblicks, read Augenblicks. 
 „ 83, „ 3, for to, read for. 
 
 mubuai uisuuBsiun. Jin Tjire "eignm voiume oi my JNovel§ 
 there will, it is true, be no space left for songs ; still, the 
 list of things left by Mignon and the old Harper is not 
 
 * Wife of Goethe's publisher in Berlin. Goethe's personal acquain- 
 tance with Zelter began three years later. (See Rintel's Life of Zelter, 
 p. 194.) 
 
 f The song here alluded to is by Frau Friderike Brun (1765-1835), 
 who was the authoress of a number of poems, and of several books of 
 travel. (See Professor Buchheim's Deutsche lAjrilc, note on p. 382.) 
 
 J This periodical, containing short poems and pieces, was published 
 annually. It is chiefly famous for the Xmien, a collection of epigrams 
 by Goethe and Schiller suggested by Martial's Xenia, 
 
 § Wilhehn Mdstera Lehrjahre, 
 
 B 
 
X PEIfiPACB. 
 
 dropped at intervals of several montlis, and then taken up 
 again by either of the two correspondents, as if they had 
 formed part and parcel of yesterday's discussion. For 
 these and other reasons, I have allowed Zelter to speak for 
 himself, and limited my selection of letters to such parts 
 of the correspondence as I thought might be of interest to 
 the general reader. 
 
 Of all the works I have consulted as books of reference, 
 I have found Diintzer's lAfe of Goethe, (admirably translated 
 and annotated by T. W. Lyster, Esq.,) the most indis- 
 pensable. Since the publication of Lewes's Life of Goethe, 
 the researches of modern scholars have brought to light 
 much authentic information that, was not ayailable,iffienty 
 yeg^^^j,an^yi^ntzef'S"work is m manv resMMS^KmriiTio' 
 
GOETHE'S LETTERS TO ZELTER. 
 
 1796. 
 
 1. — Goethe to Madame Ungee.* 
 
 Weimar, 13th June, 1796. 
 YouE letter, dear Madam, and the enclosed songs, gave me 
 very great pleasure. Herr Zelter's admirable compositions 
 reached me while I was with people who first made me 
 acquainted with his work. His melody to the poem leh 
 denke Deinf had an inconceivable charm for me, and I 
 could not help composing that song for it, which stands in 
 Schiller's Musenahnanach.'l 
 
 I am no judge of music, being without knowledge of the 
 means it makes use of for its purposes ; I can only speak 
 of the effect it produces upon me, when I let it exercise its 
 powers over me completely and repeatedly ; and hence I 
 can say of Herr Zelter's music to my poems, that I could 
 scarcely have believed music capable of such heart-felt 
 tones. 
 
 Thank him very much for me, and tell him that I should 
 very much like to know him personally, with a view to 
 mutual discussion. In the eighth volume of my Novel § 
 there will, it is true, be no space left for songs ; still, the 
 list of things left by Mignon and the old Harper is not 
 
 * Wife of Goethe's publisher in Berlin. Goethe's personal acquain- 
 tance with Zelter began three years later. (See Kintel's Life of Zelter, 
 p. 194.) 
 
 t The song here alluded to is by Frau Friderike Brun (1765-1835), 
 who was the authoress of a number of poems, and of several books of 
 travel. (See Professor Buchheim's Deutsche In/rilc, note on p. 382.) 
 
 { This periodical, containing short poems and pieces, was published 
 annually. It is chiefly famous for the Xenien, a collection of epigrams 
 by Goethe and Schiller suggested by Martial's Xenia, 
 
 § WilheVm Meisiers Lehrjahre, 
 
 B 
 
2 goethb's letters [1796. 
 
 yet exhausted, and all of it that can be allowed to see the 
 light, I should much prefer entrusting to Herr Zelter. 
 
 Meantime, I may perhaps soon send some other poems, 
 with the request that they may be set to music for Schiller's 
 Musenahnanach; I had hoped to enclose them in this letter, 
 which consequently has been longer in coming than it 
 ought to have been. 
 
 Accept my thanks, dear Madam, for the trouble you 
 have taken, and believe that I know how to appreciate the 
 interest, which kind and enlightened miads take in me, and 
 those of my works, by which I can even bring a part of 
 my existence near to persons far from and unknown to me. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
1799.] TO ZELTEB. 
 
 1799. 
 
 2. — (jrOBTHE TO ZlLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 26th August, 1799. 
 It is with sincere gratitude that I reply to your 
 friendly letter, by which you would fain express in words 
 that of which your compositions themselves have long 
 convinced me : that you take a lively interest in my works, 
 and have a true inclination for making much of their , 
 spirit your own. The beauty of an active sympathy con- 
 sists in its reproductive force, for if my poems called forth 
 your melodies, I can well say that your melodies have 
 stirred me to many a song, and doubtless if we lived nearer 
 to one another, I should more frequently than at present 
 feel myself inspired by a lyric mood. It would give me 
 sincere pleasure to hear from you on any subject. 
 
 I enclose a production * which has rather a strange ap- 
 pearance. It was suggested by the question, whether 
 dramatic ballads might not be worked out in such a 
 manner, as to furnish a composer with material for a 
 Cantata. 
 
 Unfortunately this particular ballad is too shght to 
 deserve being treated on so large a scale. 
 
 Farewell. Remember me to Herr Unger. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 • Die erste WaVpwrgis Nacht, Zelter's efforts to set this ballad- 
 poem were unsuccessful } it was reserved for Mendelssohn to redeem his 
 master's failure. 
 
GOETHE'S LETTIES [1801. 
 
 1801. 
 
 > 3. GOITHB TO ZeLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 29tli May, 1801. 
 
 Tou have accomplished a very meritorious piece of 
 work by the momiment you have raised to Fasch,* besides 
 giving me great pleasure by what you have done. 
 
 The remembrance of a human life that has passed away 
 ■^is so contracted, that affection is obliged, as it were, to re- 
 animate the ashes, and present the glorified Phoenix to our 
 eyes. Every honest fellow may hope some day or other to 
 be represented thus by his friend, his pupil, his brother 
 artist. 
 
 When compared with an individuality thus lovingly 
 resuscitated, what a poor figure is made by those necro- 
 logists, who, immediately after a man's death, sedulously 
 balance the good and bad that has been believed in and 
 ^ applauded by the multitude, during the life of an eminent 
 person, bolster up his so-called virtues and faults with 
 hypocritical righteousness, and thereby are worse than 
 death in destroying a personality, which can be imagined 
 only in the living union of those opposite qualities. 
 
 I was specially delighted with your account of the origin 
 of the Mass in sixteen parts, and the Vocal Society f to 
 which it gave rise ; how pleased I was that worthy Fasch 
 should be so fortunate as to have lived to see such an idea 
 realized. 
 
 In one of your last letters — for which, alas ! I still owe 
 you an answer — you ask whether there is anything among 
 my papers in the shape of an opera ? 
 
 Tou will find in the next number of Wilman's Taschmi- 
 
 * Founder of the Smgakademie at Berlin. He and Emmanuel Bach 
 shared the duty of accompanying Frederick the Great's flute Concertos. 
 His influence on musical taste in Berlin was so great, that Beethoven 
 honoured him with two visits in the summer of 1796. " As a master 
 of composition in many parts, Fasch is the last representative of the 
 great school of sacred composers, which lasted so long in Italy.'' (See 
 article Fasch in Sir G. Ctxoye's Biotionary of Music.) The "monument" 
 alluded to, is Zelter's biography of his former master. 
 
 f The Smffakademie. 
 
1801.J TO ZELTER. 5 
 
 huch the first scenes of the Second Part of the ZcmberflSte.* 
 Some years ago I sketched a plan for a serious cantata. 
 Die Danaiden, in which, after the fashion of the ancient 
 Greek tragedy, the Chorus was to appear as the principal 
 subject ; but neither of the two pieces will, I expect, ever 
 be finished. One ought to live with the composer, and 
 work for some particular theatre, otherwise but little will 
 come of such an undertaking. 
 
 Be sure to send me from time to time some of your com- 
 positions, for they give me great pleasure. Speaking 
 generally, I do not live in a musical sphere ; we reproduce 
 throughout the year first one, then another piece of music, 
 but where there is no production, an art cannot make itself 
 vividly felt. 
 
 Farewell, and hold me in remembrance. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 * The libretto of Mozart's famous opera was adapted by Schikaneder 
 from Luhi, oder die Zwuberflote, a fairy tale in Wieland's Dschin- 
 nistan. Eckermann tells us that Goethe, while acknowledging that it 
 was full of indefensible improbabilities, added, " In spite of all, however, 
 it must be acknowledged that the author had the most perfect know- 
 ledge of the art of contrast, and a wonderful knack of introducing stage 
 effects." As early as 1796, Goethe entered into an agreement with 
 Wranitzky to continue the libretto. This must have failed, for in 1823 
 Eckermann says, that Goethe has not yet found a composer to treat the 
 subject properly. 
 
QbKTHU'S LITTIRS [1802. 
 
 1802. 
 
 4. — GOITHE TO ZeLTIE. 
 
 Weimar, 6th December, 1 802. 
 When, during these gloomy days, I thought of 
 cheerful subjects, I then often looked back to the time of 
 your delightful presence amongst us last year. I have but 
 slender hope of seeing you again soon ; yet it is my wish that 
 a thread should continue to be spun between us. Therefore 
 give a kindly welcome to Ber Graf unA Die Zwerge * (The 
 Count and the Dwarfs), who appear herewith ; they now, 
 for the first time, as I think, show style and ingenuity. 
 Cherish these merry imps in your true musical sense, and 
 prepare for yourself and us some diversion for the winter 
 evenings. But do not let the poem out of your hands ; 
 nay, if possible, keep it secret. 
 
 My whole household thinks of you affectionately and 
 lovingly. Goethe. 
 
 * A ballad of Goethe's, now called HocheeitUed, 
 
1803.] TO ZELTBB. 
 
 1803. 
 
 5. — GOBTHE TO ZbLTBE. 
 
 Weimar, 31st January, 1803. 
 Only a line to tell you briefly, that good Dr. Chladni * 
 is here, and will remain in the neighbourhood till about 
 the 9th or 10th of Febrnary. Perhaps this may partially 
 inflnence your decision as to the journey. If you could 
 meet him, while he is still here, we should have some Uvely 
 discussions about music and acoustics. 
 
 Only thus much, to testify again to my eager wish to see 
 you under my roof. Goethe. 
 
 6. — Zeltbe to Gobthe, 
 
 Berlin, 3rd February, 1803. 
 «... Madame MAEAf has arrived here, and I 
 yearn for the divine singing of this artist, after so many 
 years. In all that time I have heard no such singer, for 
 with her glorious voice she can do everything, and any- 
 thing she does is exactly right. Tour dear kind letter of 
 the 24th of January has almost damped my spirits. I was 
 unwilling to come empty-handed to Weimar, and have 
 therefore not been idle. I hoped that several quite new 
 songs of yours would win your favour. Die Sehnsacht, 
 Was gieht mir das Here so ? and Der SoMger are quite new, 
 and, as I think, better than even Reichardt's. Since the 
 First Part of Wilhelm Meister was published, I have had 
 Der Sanger constantly in my mind, and here it is at last 
 on paper. Keichardt's music to it is like a march, and 
 starting rather imperiously, should at all events end as it 
 began ; I have restored the Ballad- form. Then, again, I 
 have finished several of your songs, and have added four 
 new strophes to Das Blumlem Wundersehdn. Der Jv/nggesell 
 and Der Miihlhach, at the suggestion of a critic in the 
 
 * Author of a work on Acoustics. (See Schiller and Goethe Cane- 
 gpondence, vol. ii., p. 438.) 
 
 + This famous singer was bom at Cassel in 1794, and died at Bevel 
 in 1833, soon aftei: she had received a birthday poem from Goethe, 
 Scmgreich war deim Ehrenweg. An interesting memoir of her is to be 
 found in Bochlitz's Fur Frerunde der TonJcimst. 
 
8 Goethe's lettbes [1803. 
 
 Apollo, have been made ratter more full-bodied. Schiller's 
 Sero und Lecmder, Worte des Olaubens, Karwpf mit dem 
 Bracken, Die Sanger der Vorwelt have received the final 
 touches ; I have re-set some new Sonnets, one of He""der's 
 amongst them, and several old German songs of the seven- 
 teenth century by Abschatz, Zinkgraf, P. Gerhard. I 
 reckon up to you my small glories, like a child who has 
 had Christmas presents from the Muses, and when all is 
 told, do not know what to do with all my treasures. Could 
 I but achieve something great ! My years are waning, and 
 — nothing comes of it. Could you not suggest something by 
 Herder, whom I esteem most highly ? I read so little, 
 and re-read so often my old favourites, that fine things 
 often escape me. And now, " Enough, ye Muses ! " — But 
 pray be on your guard, that your house is not haunted ! 
 It is my spirit which has taken up his quarters with yon, 
 
 and is settling down and nestling by degrees 
 
 Zeltee. 
 
 7. GOBTHB TO ZeITBE. 
 
 Weimar, 10th March, 1803. 
 I CAM quite understand that it requires some resolution 
 to leave one's own circle, and to look up distant friends at 
 this season of the year ; yet I take to heart in more ways 
 than one your letter of refusal. Apart from what we 
 should have gained for the general and higher aims of 
 Art by personal communication, it so happens that I am 
 this winter busy with the organization of the Opera and 
 Orchestra, more with a view to the future than the pre- 
 sent ; and I had thought your help in this matter was 
 absolutely indispensable. 
 
 The importance of the old proverbial advice, " Go 
 straight to the right smithy," * was clear enough to me long 
 ago ; but what is the good of knowing this, if the smithy 
 is so far off, that one cannot get to it with bag and baggage ? 
 
 So as I cannot give up the hope of seeing you, I make 
 a proposal which I trust you will take in good part. 
 
 If you could possibly find time, more or less, for a trip 
 to US, I am at present so circumstanced as to expect that 
 
 * Gehe vor die rechte Schmiede, 
 
1803.] TO ZELTEE. 9 
 
 througli you great advantage would accnie to institutioBS 
 I have at heart, so I feel bound, at all events, to defray 
 your travelling expenses to and fro, and to provide for you 
 during your stay here. Now, if you feel inclined to weigh 
 the inconveniencies of the journey, and the loss of your 
 valuable time, against the possibility of an agreeable visit 
 here, after all you would not have such a heavy bill against 
 us, and perhaps we could arrange to meet more often in 
 future, not, I dare say, to any great advantage on your 
 part, but anyhow without your suffering any pecuniary 
 disadvantage. 
 
 Consider this, and tell me what you think of the proposal, 
 to which I hope you will give a favourable answer ; and 
 this the sooner, that you are in no way restricted as to the 
 time of your visit, and we should be ready to welcome you 
 any day between this and Whitsuntide. Tour room ia 
 still unoccupied, and ready to receive you. 
 
 All your friends think of you with enthusiasm, which 
 was yesterday rekindled by the repetition of your new 
 compositions — the Beiterlied and the Zwerge. Schiller 
 thanks you most sincerely. 
 
 A new Tenor * has come here ; he has a very beautiful 
 voice, but is in every sense a novice. What a thing it 
 would be for him and for us could you give him a hint in 
 the way of improvement ! I mention but this one link in 
 the chain of obligations we should gladly owe you. I need 
 not tell you what a serious business is the improvement of 
 our Theatre, and particularly of the music, for the wedding 
 of our Crown Prince,t and the fetes which have to be given 
 in the last quarter of the present year, &c. — as little need 
 I repeat the proposals and requests I have already made. 
 I enclose the very delightful composition you asked for.J 
 
 If you look through Herder's Volhslieder, published 
 some time since, as well as his miscellaneous poems, you 
 are certain to find much that will interest you. When my 
 small concerts are given, I am very anxious that every one 
 
 * Brand of Frankfurt. (See Schiller and, Goethe Correspondence, 
 vol. ii., p. 445.) 
 
 t The Crown Prince was betrothed to the Grand Duchess Maria 
 Panlowna. 
 
 X Zelter's rnusi* to Die BSrinnerung. 
 
10 goithb's letters [1803. 
 
 of my friends should be astonislied at himself, when he hears 
 his works reproduced in your music. 
 
 Please tell me plainly what you think of Madame 
 Mara? .... 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 S.^G-QETHB TO ZeLTBB. 
 
 Weimar, 1st July, 1803. 
 Accept, dear friend, a little present, which Herr 
 Geh. Eath von Wolzogen* will bring you from me. 
 
 You relished Herr von Knebel'sf Spanish snuff, and a 
 further supply was discovered. Where ? Tou shall hear, 
 when it comes safely to hand. Fill your box with it, and 
 sometimes think of my affection and esteem for you when 
 you take a piuoh, whether you are alone or in good com- 
 pany. That is always a pleasant moment. 
 
 The sower, when he has sown his seed, goes away and 
 lets it sprout ; what a pity you cannot see how much good 
 is springing up from what you have sown among us ... . 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 9. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 1st July, 1803. 
 
 .... At Dresden I met Madame Mara, who was 
 delighted to see me ; she was just going to give a concert 
 which I attended; there as everywhere she has admirers 
 and enemies. The thing she liked best was the unexpectedly 
 good receipts — that's the first point with her just now. 
 
 The first thing that drew my attention in Berlin was a 
 short biography of the late Mozart, half dedicated to you ; J 
 to this is appended an anything but short, and anything 
 but sesthetic description of his works, together with any- 
 
 * Schiller's brother-in-law. Councillor of Legation, and recommended 
 by Schiller to Goethe as a student of architecture. (See Schiller and 
 Goethe Correspondence, vol. i,, p. 402.) 
 
 f Major Karl Ludwig Ton Knebel, formerly tutor to Prince Constan- 
 tine of Weimar. His translations from Propertius attracted the atten- 
 tion of Schiller and Herder. Goethe mentions him as " helping me in 
 a very friendly way with my optical studies." (See Schiller and Goethe 
 Correspondence, vol. i., p. 278, and vol. ii., p. 466.) 
 
 } It was dedicated jointly to Goethe and to Herr Miillcr, Cantor of 
 the Thomas-Schule in Leipzig. » 
 
1803.] TO ZELTEE. 11 
 
 thing but a good portrait of him. Now could you find 
 out for me, who is the Neudietendorf author of this educa- 
 tional work for young musicians ? The Neudietendorfers 
 may make a good thing of him. I read in the papers that 
 my beautiful Queen* was graciously bountiful to your 
 mother; this gave me exquisite pleasure. Here they 
 stoutly maintain that very soon you will be with Schiller 
 in Berlin, and in several quarters I have been questioned 
 on the point. The possibility I had no wish to contradict, 
 especially as your friends think, that it will soon be time to 
 pronounce judgment on the sinful race, and that can only 
 be done in person. 
 
 4th July. I saw for the first time a performance of 
 
 Schiller's Braut von Messina Ifiland gave a good 
 
 rendering of Bohemund, and Bethmann as Caesar was first 
 
 rate I had rather say nothing about the choruses, 
 
 for all my ideas on that subject are confused and misty. 
 I would wager that Schiller is right, and that there is 
 something behind which none of us as yet suspect. Perhaps 
 I may one day write to you at greater length about this, 
 when the piece is printed, and the play in black and white 
 before me. 
 
 The position of the Chorus was not to my taste. I 
 should have thought the Chorus ought to stand close to 
 the side scenes, right and left, and as far as possible in the 
 background, so that the largest possible interval might 
 separate it from the chief groups. By this means the 
 Chorus would, as it were, become a main factor of the 
 whole, enlightening and invigorating it 
 
 I wish you would instruct me about the tendency of the 
 Greek Chorus 
 
 The glorious snuff, redolent with the fragrance of all 
 the Muses, is a real refreshment to me ; no wonder now if 
 I write something good. 
 
 ZlLTBR. 
 
 10. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 28th July, 1803. 
 So often have I followed you in thought, that I 
 have unfortunately neglected to do so in writing ; to-day 
 
 * Louisa of Prussia. 
 
12 Goethe's letters [1803. 
 
 only a few words, to accompany the enclosed sheet. I 
 shall continue my reflections, and therefore only touch the 
 main points as briefly as possible ; you will yourself of 
 course supply the details. 
 
 Of Mozart's biography I have heard ■ nothing further as 
 yet, but shall inquire about it, and about the author too. 
 
 Tour beautiful Queen made several people happy on her 
 journey, none more so than my mother ; nothing could 
 have given her more pleasure in her declining years. 
 
 Be sure to write to me from time to time, and please 
 send me the play-bills month by month. Pray also give 
 me some account of the performance of my Naturliohe 
 Toohter, only speak frankly and without reserve. As it is, 
 I am inclined to shorten some scenes, which must seem 
 long, even if they are admirably acted. 
 
 Will you give me a sketch of the duties of a GoncerU 
 Meister ? in so far, at least, as it is necessary for one 
 like me to know, so that I may to some extent be able to 
 judge of a man in this position, and possibly to guide him. 
 
 Madame Mara sang last Tuesday in Lauchstadt ; I have 
 not yet heard how it went off. 
 
 Thank you heartily for myself and my friends for the 
 songs, which I received through Herr von Wolzogcn. 
 There was no time to think of producing anything new. 
 
 I hope soon to send you the proof-sheets of my poems, 
 with the request that you will keep them secret until they 
 are published 
 
 GOITHB. 
 ENCLOSURE. 
 
 Tou will by this time have before you in print the 
 'Brand von Messina, and be able to appreciate more accu- 
 rately what the poet has achieved ; you will also gather 
 from his preface, what he thinks about the matter, and 
 learn how far you agree with him. With reference to 
 your letter, I will jot down my thoughts on this subject, 
 for a few words will suffice to make us intelligible to one 
 another. 
 
 In Greek tragedy the Chorus is seen in four Epochs. 
 
 In the first Epoch, a few characters calling up the past 
 into the present are introduced between the singing, in 
 
1803.] TO ZELTEE. 13 
 
 ■which divinities and heroes are exalted, and genealogies, 
 mighty deeds, portentous destinies, are brought before the 
 fancy. Of this we have a proximate example in the Seven 
 lefore Thebes, by ^schylus. This, then, was the begin- 
 ning of dramatic art — the old style. 
 
 The second Epoch shows us the whole Chorus as the 
 mystic leading character of the piece, as in the JEumenide* 
 and Supplices ; these, I am inclined to think, represent the 
 lofty style. The Chorus is independent, the interest rests 
 upon it; it is — one might say, the republican period of 
 dramatic art, the rulers and the gods are mere supplemen- 
 tary personages. 
 
 In the third Epoch the Chorus becomes supplementary ; 
 the interest is projected upon the families, their respective 
 members and chiefs, with whose destinies the destiny of 
 the surrounding people is but slightly connected. The 
 Chorus is subordinate, and the figures of the Princes and 
 Heroes step forth in their isolated majesty. This I am 
 inclined to think the grand style. The tragedies of 
 Sophocles stand on this level. Inasmuch as the multitude 
 has only to watch the hero and Fate, and cannot influence 
 Nature either in special instances or generally, it falls back 
 upon reflection, and undertakes the office of an appointed 
 and welcome spectator. 
 
 In the fourth Epoch, the action continues more and 
 more to confine itself to private interests, the Chorus 
 appears often as a wearisome tradition, as an inherited 
 piece of the dramatic inventory. It becomes unnecessary, 
 and therefore in a living, poetical whole is equally useless, 
 tiresome, and disturbing — as, for example, when it is called 
 upon to keep secrets, in which it has no interest, &c. 
 Several examples of this are to be found in the plays of 
 Euripides, of which I may name Helena and Iphigenia m 
 ToMris. 
 
 Ton will see from the above — ^in order to return again to 
 the musical thread — that any attempts must be made in 
 connection with the first two Epochs, and this might be 
 done by very short Oratorios. 
 
14 gobthb's letters [1803. 
 
 THE ENCLOSURE — Continued. 
 
 Now, as Greek tragedy disengaged itself from the 
 lyric element, so we, even in our own day, have a remark- 
 able example of the efforts made by the Drama to dis- 
 engage itself from the historical, or rather the epic ele- 
 ment ; we find this in the manner in which the story of 
 the Passion is sung, in Catholic churches, during the week 
 before Easter. There are three individuals, one of whom 
 represents the Evangelist, the second Christ, the third the 
 rest of the interlocutors ; these and the Chorus (tnrba) 
 represent the whole, as you yourself know well enough. 
 I will add a short quotation, that you may the sooner see 
 what I mean. 
 
 " Evangelid : Then said Pilate to him : 
 
 Interlocutor : Art thou then a King ? 
 
 Evangelist : Jesus answered : 
 
 Ohrist : Thou sayest it. I am a King. Eor this end was 
 
 I born, and came into the world, that I might bear 
 
 witness of the truth. Whoever is of the truth, heareth 
 
 my voice. 
 Evangelist : Pilate saith unto him : 
 Interlocutor : What is truth ? 
 Evangelist : And when he had so said, he went forth again 
 
 unto the' Jews, and saith unto them : 
 Interlocutor: I find no fault in him. But ye have a 
 
 custom, that I should release one unto you at the 
 
 feast. Will ye then that I release unto you the King 
 
 of the Jews ? 
 Evangelist : Then they cried out all together again, and said : 
 Turha : Not this man, but Barabbas ! 
 Evangelist : Now Barabbas was a murderer." 
 
 Now, if you confine the function of the Evangelist 
 merely to the beginning, so that he may pronounce a 
 general historical introduction as a prologue, and if you 
 make the intermediate incidents presently emanating from 
 him useless by the coming and going, the movements 
 and actions, of the various personages, you will have 
 made a very good beginning for a drama. 
 
1803,] TO ZELTEK. 15 
 
 I now remember that this course has been followed in 
 Oratorios on the Passion ; but probably something new and 
 important might be produced, if one set to work in thorough 
 earnest. 
 
 11. — Zeltbr to Gobthb. 
 
 7th August, 1803. 
 ' . . . . When I received your dear letter of the 28th of 
 July,Ihad just been leisurely reading Schiller's Preface to the 
 Braut von Messina, and had already begun to try a musical 
 arrangement of the Choruses. Thus much have I as yet 
 divined, that thoroughly to identify myself with the new 
 genre, I should need a quiet year. So soon as I have com- 
 pleted enough to be recognizable, I will write to you about 
 my discovery. Tour dissertation on the Chorus has been 
 extremely useful to me, for I am more concerned about a 
 definite view of the ancient Greek Chorus, than about my 
 new invention. The Musician is so horribly subordinate 
 to the Poet, and besides that he needs the whole strength 
 of his art. Tour idea of making an attempt with a small 
 Oratorio is excellent, and for more than one reason I 
 should like to see it carried out. It is a new way to the 
 
 heart, and I constantly think of it 
 
 Zeltee. 
 
 12. — ZiLTEE TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 10th August, 1803. 
 .... Ton ask me about the music to the second part 
 of the Zauberflote. I take you to mean by that our new re- 
 presentation of Winter's music. It is put on the stage with 
 great magnificence and at huge expense. . . . The score is 
 very full, and crammed with effects, that stun and over- 
 whelm one's ears and senses. There is a full house every 
 time, though I see no signs of real satisfaction on the part 
 of the public, for whom apparently the piece was written ; 
 I suppose it will come in time. .... 
 
 Professor Pichte, to whom I gave the enclosed letter of 
 
16 Goethe's letties [1803. 
 
 the Jena advocate,* is doubly grateful, as it is rather 
 pleasant in itself, and goes just far enough to avert any 
 unpleasantness. Fiohte is just about to write on the sub- 
 ject to Herr Geheimrath Voigt.f Fiohte dissents from 
 your proposal to shorten Die Naturliche TocMer,'l thinking 
 the piece so rounded and complete, that it would only suffer 
 by abbreviation. He intends writing to Schiller about it, 
 but specially with reference to the two Berlin representa- 
 tions, which he attended as an earnest listener. He is 
 actually more pleased with them than I, who read the 
 play twice beforehand, and then found quite unfamiliar 
 characters, which afterwards I have to find " natural/'. . . . 
 Madame Mara is to arrive here to-day or to-morrow — 
 the 14th August. They say that she was terribly put out 
 at Lauchstadt, though her concert — owing to the help of 
 Reichardt § — was a success. She had explained in Dresden 
 that she wanted to regale the Electoral Prince with her 
 talent, but as she was told that His Royal Highness was 
 pleased to hear music during dinner, she was forced to 
 
 * Salzmann, a lawyer employed by Fichte about a mortgage which 
 he had raised upon a house of his in Jena, and about which he had 
 consulted Schiller. (See Schiller amd Goethe Correspondence, vol. ii., 
 p. 460.) 
 
 t Christian Gottlob von "Voigt was a friend of the Duke of Saxe- 
 Weimar, Karl August, and one of his ministers. Goethe praises his 
 various and comprehensive knowledge of natural history. (See 
 Schiller cmd Goethe Correspondence, vol. ii., p. 475.) 
 
 J Schiller expressed his admiration of this work in a letter to 
 Humboldt : — " The high symbolism with which it is handled, so that 
 all the crude material is neutralized and everything becomes a portion of 
 an ideal Whole, is truly wonderful. It is entirely Art, and thereby 
 reaches the innermost Nature, thi-ough the power of truth." Pichte 
 declared it to be Goethe's masterpiece. G. H. Lewes observes in his 
 Life of Goethe, " that a drama which is so praised, i.e. for its high sym- 
 bolism, is a drama philosophers and critics may glorify, but which Art 
 abjures." 
 
 § Johann Friedrich Eeichardt, Capellmeister and Court-composer to 
 Frederick the Great, founder of the Concerts Spirittiels, author of 
 several operas, but more famous for his Singspielen, which are of great 
 importance in the history of German dramatic music. Mendelssohn 
 spoke of him with enthusiasm, and arranged for the performance of his 
 Morning Hymn, after Milton at the Cologne Festival of 1835. His love 
 of art induced him to visit the chief capitals of Europe, and his letters, 
 like those of our own Dr. Burney, give copious details of music, politics, 
 literature, and society. 
 
1803-.] TO ZBLTBE. 17 
 
 confess that she could not sing at a banquet. By this 
 explanation she lost a hundred ducats, and the Electoral 
 Prince, an aria Zelter. 
 
 13. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 29th August, 1803. 
 .... PiCHTE has written a very beautiful and kind 
 letter to Schiller about JEugenie.* Thank him for it, and 
 tell him at the same time that we champion his cause very 
 heartily ; alas ! a curse rests so easily on all that lawyers 
 dabble with ! 
 
 What say yon to the scheme of transplanting the Literatur 
 Zeitung to Halle ? We others, who are behind the scenes, 
 are never tired of wondering, that a Royal Prussian 
 Cabinet should allow itself to be foiled by names, shams, 
 charlatanism, and importunity, just like any other public 
 body. As if such an institution could be conquered and 
 transported, like the Laocoon, or any other movable work 
 of art ! 
 
 We are now continuing it as usual in Jena, and as we 
 still have Hofrath Eichstadt, the very active editor, every- 
 thing will go on in its old course. New contributors, and 
 new methods we are just starting, will, I hope, ensure an 
 honourable result for the business. 
 
 If you care to be one of our party, we earnestly bid you 
 welcome. How I should like you to utilize the reviewer's 
 path, so as to say about music what is so urgently needed 
 just now, and bring your criticism before the public de- 
 finitely and regularly. I shall share in the undertaking, 
 giving advice, and acting also. Schiller, Voss, and Meyer f 
 
 * The heroine of Die Naiurliche Tochter. 
 
 f Heinrich Meyer's History of Art -was a favourite hook with Goethe. 
 Speaking of him to Eckermann, Goethe says : " I am ever convinced 
 anew, how much is needed to be thoroughly great in any one thing. 
 In Meyer Hes an insight into art belonging to thousands of years." 
 His Art-criticism, and his own paintings are constantly alluded to in the 
 Schiller and Goethe Correspondence. The copy of Aldobrandini's Wed- 
 ding, made by him in Rome, subsequently found a place on Gnethe's 
 walls. When at Florence, he edited the works of Cellini. Schiller 
 wished him to draw a vignette on the title-page of his WalUmtein, for 
 which he himself suggested a Nemesis, " as an interesting and significant 
 illustration," 
 
 C 
 
18 gobthb's letters [1803. 
 
 are inclined to do the same, and I hope that next year will 
 be hoDonrahly distinguished from the present. Tell this 
 also to Fichte, whose aid we likewise invoke ; Schiller will 
 write to him more in detail about the matter. If you 
 know of any other able man in Berlin, it matters not what 
 his calling may be, as long as he is opposed to the old 
 leaven of Schiitz, Bertuch, and Bottiger,* try and induce 
 him to join our interest. In fact, you are at liberty to 
 speak quite openly about the matter. The authorization 
 for a society, which will undertake the contemplated con- 
 tinuation of the scheme, is just being drawn up ; there will 
 soon appear a prehminary public announcement, and I will 
 shortly let you know of further details. 
 
 Tell me who is the author of The Confessions of a Female 
 Poisoner f- — a first-rate man in every way. 
 
 Some time ago Herr Unger wrote to me about an eighth 
 part. I can neither accept nor refuse ; on the one hand, 
 because I should be truly glad to complete the number ; on 
 the other, because my next works are promised to Cotta, 
 with whom I have reason to be very well satisfied. Please 
 
 * Hofrath Schiitz was the founder and editor of the Allgememe Lite- 
 rarische Zeitung in Jena. Goethe speaks disparagingly of him as a 
 reriewer, in his letters to Schiller. — Bertuch, the translator of Cervantes, 
 was the original owner of the famous Gartmhaus at Weimar, in which 
 Goethe lived for seven years. The Duke, aware of Goethe's taste for 
 gardening, forced Bertuch to part with his property. " Bertuch, for 
 example, is very comfortable," Goethe had said, when pressed to reside 
 at Weimar, and eager to find some excuse for leaving it ; " if I had but 
 such a piece of ground as that ! " Whereupon the Duke immediately 
 attacked Bertuch with, " I must have your garden." " But, your High- 
 ness — " " But me no huts," answered the Duke, " I can't help you. 
 Goethe wants it, and unless we give it to him, we shall never keep him 
 here ; it is the only way to secure him." When bent on strict privacy, 
 Goethe " would lock all the gates of the bridges which led from the 
 town to his house, so that, as Wieland complained, no one could get at 
 him, except by aid of picklock and crowbar." Here he made his studies 
 for Sie Metamorphose der Pflamen. Lewes tells us that " a half-pay 
 captain with us would consider the house a miserable cottage ; yet it 
 sufficed for the Court favourite and Minister." — Karl August Bottiger, 
 a literary busybody, nicknamed by Schiller and Goethe Ubique. In 
 Bertuch's Journal of Fashion he wrote an essay on the Xenia of Martial, 
 and some translations, which were severely criticised by Goethe. (See 
 Schiller and Goethe Correspondeaee, vol. i., p. 144.) 
 
 t Bachhnlz. 
 
1803.] TO ZBLTBE. 19 
 
 say a kind word to Herr Unger on the subject, to prevent 
 him from misconstruing my silence. 
 
 I hoped beforehand that Oellmi* would have an effect 
 upon you ; what a world is opened up in such a work ! 
 The time I devoted to working it out, is one of the happiest 
 periods of my life, and I shall continue to do a good deal 
 more yet. If your reading of the book has in a certain 
 sense depressed yon, as I can well understand, I hope that 
 the cheerful effect may come afterwards. 
 
 In the main I sympathize thoroughly with your com- 
 plaints regarding the general matter and details. A hearty 
 farewell. Or. 
 
 14. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 7th September, 1803. 
 .... As a thoroughly useful correspondent in 
 Paris, I am inclined to recommend young Mendelssohn,t 
 who was fortunate enough, a few years since, to have an 
 interview with you at Frankfort-on-the-Maine. He is an 
 excellent youth, well read, and possessed of good broad taste. 
 He is now in Berlin, and hopes to pass through Weimar on 
 his return to Paris. If yon approve, I might give him a 
 letter to you. Whatever else I can do for the interests of 
 the Jena Literarische Zeittmg, I will do gladly, as opportu- 
 nity offers. 
 
 Zelter. 
 
 15. — Q-OETHE TO ZbLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 10th October, 1803. 
 
 .... Mt training-school for actors, begun in the 
 first instance with TJnzelmann,J has already increased to 
 
 * Goethe's translation of Benvenuto Cellini's Autobiography was 
 published in separate numbers. Writing to Schiller in 1798, he says : 
 "A second edition of Cellini will be added to Meyer's work on the 
 History of Art m Florence." (See Schiller and Goethe Correspondence, 
 vol. ii., p. 63.) 
 
 t Abraham Mendelssohn, banker, second son of Moses the philoso- 
 pher, and father of Felix Mendelssohn. 
 
 t Son of Madame Unzelmann, a famous actress. 
 
20 gobthe's lettees [1803. 
 
 twelve. Nesrti Thursday they are going to act their first 
 piece, scenery and all, but with closed doors. I hope much 
 good will result from this effort. 
 
 Could yon get some reliable account of yonng Lauchery, 
 son of the royal ballet-master ? He has some appoint- 
 ment at the Military School in Berlin. We are so situated 
 as to be more in want of a man who understands dancing, 
 than of a dancer; someone who has an easy method of 
 teaching, and a taste for stage-groupings and ballets. He 
 has been recommended to us, and I should like to have a 
 
 more accurate account of him from you 
 
 ■ Farewell, and do not leave me long without news of yon. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
1804.] 
 
 TO ZBLTEB. 21 
 
 1804. 
 
 16. — Goethe to Zbltbb. 
 
 Weimarj 27th February, 1804. 
 How long have I been silent, my honoured friend, 
 and yet how often have I longed to be with you on Mon- 
 days and Tuesdays ! This winter I have heard scarcely a 
 note, and feel what a beautiful part of life's enjoyment has 
 thereby been lost to me. 
 
 November and December were passed chiefly iu prepara- 
 tions for our literary campaign. January did not treat me 
 over well, though my head kept clear, and I was not 
 altogether inactive. In February I took up my Ootz von 
 BerlicMngen, in order to knead it into a morsel which our 
 German public may perhaps swallow at once. That is an 
 unsatisfactory piece of work ; as in altering an old house, 
 you begin with little bits and end by entirely changing the 
 whole at heavy expense, without after all having made a 
 new building. 
 
 Now Schiller's Tell, which you too will soon see, is by 
 contrast all the more fresh and unbroken. Lately we 
 have enjoyed several pleasant visits. Professor Wolf * was 
 «here for nearly a fortnight, and Hofrath von Miillerf 
 about as long ; Voss was here only for a few days. We 
 have however been enjoying Madame de Stael's society for. 
 a month past. This strange woman is soon going to 
 Berlin, and I shall give her a letter to you. Be sure to 
 pay her a visit immediately ; it is a very easy matter to 
 get on with her, and she is sure to be greatly delighted 
 
 * Friedrich August Wolf, a great philologist, author of the Prolego- 
 mena ad HoTneni/m. Eckermann describes a dinner-party given by 
 Groethe in his honour. " The conversation was very lively. Wolf 
 was full of witty sallies, Goethe being constantly his opponent in the 
 pleasantest way. ' I cannot,' said Goethe to me afterwards, ' get on 
 with Wolf at all, without assuming the character of Mephistopheles. 
 Nothing else brings out his hidden treasures.'" 
 
 t Johannes Miiller, the historian. 
 
22 qobthb's letters [1804. 
 
 with your musical performances, although literature, poetry, 
 philosophy and the like, are more in her way than the fine 
 arts. 
 
 Herr von Miiller will have brought you the large seal ; 
 a smaller one shall soon follow. I am still in difficulty 
 about the ring. I sent a beautiful, yellow, Java cornelian 
 to Dresden, in the hope of getting it back as a ring-stone 
 of exquisite colour ; unfortunately, on being cut, it turns out 
 half spurious, half real, and therefore useless. But — come 
 what may — you shall have some such keepeake from me ; 
 only please have a little more patience with the dawdler ! 
 
 Our newspaper does well enough ; when once the heavy 
 square foundation stones are safely laid, the rest of the 
 
 building will mount up more lightly 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 17. — GOBTHB TO ZblTBK. 
 
 Weimar, 28th March, 1804. 
 , Many a traveller testifies to your works and deeds, 
 
 ^ in so far as they are visible and work outwards ; your 
 refreshing letter gives me a glimpse into your inner life, 
 worked by no steel spring, but animated by a living spirit. 
 I think you happy in working on continuously and pro- 
 gressively in that element which you have yourself created, 
 and in being able to hope that you have also achieved 
 something that will last. At the same time, it seems to 
 me, one must speak honourably of the great multitude* 
 which people .often gird at, though after all, it supplies the 
 plastic organs, and also the means for propagating what 
 has been achieved. We others, in our narrow oirclesi work 
 momentary wonders — magician-like — and immediately see 
 
 our air-formed phantom again dissolve into air 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 ' 18. — Zblteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Ist May, 1804. 
 
 .... NoTHiNO as yet has been seen or heard of 
 
 Schiller's Tell. They say that Iffland, finding passages 
 
 in it that were doubtful from a political point of view, 
 
 forwarded the play to the Cabinet, in the first instance, for 
 
1804. J TO ZELTEK. 23 
 
 revision. Tour Gotz and the second part of Die Naturliche 
 Tochter are expected all the more eagerly ; do not keep us 
 
 waiting too long 
 
 Herr von Kotzebue has given a lecture in the Academy 
 on the History of Prussia. It was highly praised, and 
 people compare it to Tacitus 
 
 ZlLTEfi. 
 
 19. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 13th July, 1804. 
 YoDfi, essay, my dear friend, has given me and a few 
 of the initiated, to whom I showed it, much pleasure ; nay 
 more, it has edified and strengthened us in our convictions 
 of what is good and right. It has sprung from the depth of 
 your character and talent, and must very keenly affect 
 such minds as are at all susceptible. But what will the 
 world think of it and make out of it ? A world which 
 does not care to listen, when leading articles of complaint 
 are formally drawn up against it, and which of course 
 cannot dream of finding a worthy enjoyment which it does 
 not know, but rather snatches at some fugitive joy, self- 
 created out of itself, and therefore conformable to itself. 
 
 It is a very bad sign of our days, that every art, which 
 after all is surely meant in the first instance only to pro- 
 duce an effect upon the living, should, in so far as it is 
 excellent and worthy of eternity, find itself in conflict with 
 the time, and that the true artist frequently lives alone and 
 in despair, inasmuch as he is convinced that he possesses 
 and could impart to men what they are seeking. 
 
 We agree with you in this, that music in the first in- 
 stance can only be improved through hymns, and that 
 even for a Government, nothing could be more desirable in 
 every sense, than to foster an art, whilst encouraging higher 
 feelings, and purifying the sources of a religion, which is 
 adapted alike to the cultivated and uncultivated. Tou 
 have expressed yourself so admirably and concisely upon 
 this point, that nothing can be added to it. But what we 
 now wish you to take to heart, for effect's sake, is that you 
 should, if possible, conceal the opposition in which you 
 stand to the time, and generally that you should dwell 
 
24 Goethe's letters [1804. 
 
 more upon the advantages whicli religion and morals 
 would derive from suet an Institution, and less upon those 
 which Art has to expect from it. We must not avail our- 
 selyes of our arguments in favour of the Good, whereby 
 we are convinced men may be moved, but must consider 
 what would probably be their arguments. .... 
 
 Enclostteb. 
 Schiller to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 16th July, 1804. 
 It is not from negligence, dear friend, that I am so 
 late in giving you news of myself, after the happy hours 
 we spent together in Berlin. I expected, every post-day, 
 that I should be able to write definitely to you about the 
 business you know of, and in which, as I dare hope, you 
 are kindly interested. As yet however, nothing has been 
 determined, so I cannot say whether my conditions will be 
 accepted. Therefore no more of my afiairs for the present ; 
 let us talk of yours. 
 
 The essay you sent to Goethe, I have read with real 
 pleasure ; you have written it out from your heart of 
 hearts, and this stamp it bears on every line. But just 
 because it so successfully attacks the diseased part, and so 
 frankly and honestly declares war against charlatanism in 
 Art, probably in its present form it is not altogether 
 adapted to win the favour of those, who are to lend a hand 
 in furthering the work. What Goethe has written to you 
 on this point, is also my conviction. Tou will be obliged 
 to keep your most striking arguments in petto, and to lay 
 stress upon those that relate to the political requirements 
 of the time. 
 
 It seems to me an extremely happy circumstance, that 
 the interest of Art just now meets such an external want, 
 and if no mistakb is otherwise made as regards form, you 
 could not possibly, I think, fail to interest the rulers of the 
 state in your scheme. All will depend on the way the sub- 
 ject is represented. Few feel that it is high time to do 
 something for Art, but that matters cannot remain as they 
 are with regard to religion, can be made intelligible to all. 
 
1804.] TO ZELTER. 25 
 
 And as people are ashamed of having a religion themselves, 
 and want to pass for " enlightened," they must be very 
 glad of the possibility of coming to the aid of religion with 
 Art. 
 
 Consequently the whole thing would immediately assume 
 a more favourable aspect, if the first impulse were to come 
 from the ecclesiastical and political side, if from thence 
 one could point first of all to your Smgakad&mie, as to an 
 instrument lying ready to hand, and then first, asked what 
 you propose. Ton would surely not find any difiiculty in 
 inducing one or other of your theologians and Academicians 
 to supply the incentive. It was Berlin, which in the dark 
 days of superstition first kindled the torch of rational 
 religious freedom ; this was at the time a glory and a 
 necessity. Now, in the days of unbelief, another glory is 
 to be won, without forfeiting the first ; now let Berlin add 
 warmth to the light, and ennoble Protestantism, of which it 
 is destined to be the metropolis. 
 
 I only wish I could be a Berlin Academician for six 
 weeks, so that I might have a calling to make myself 
 heard on this subject ; but there are plenty of people for 
 that. Do you not think that Schleiermacher, for instance, 
 would do ? 
 
 Now is the very moment for an enterprise of this kind 
 in the Brandenburg provinces. People wish to promote 
 the Academy and the Universities. Something must be 
 done for spirituality and morals ; nay, as Catholicism has 
 been newly established in Prance, the spirit of the age de- 
 mands that religion should also be thought of in Protestant 
 countries, and even philosophy has taken this direction. All 
 this, and similar arguments might furnish material for a 
 deduction, by which the subject might be made more of a 
 state affair. Only, as I must again repeat, the advantage 
 which would thus fall to the musical side must not appear 
 to be the main object, but only a secondary consideration. 
 
 Let us soon hear, dear friend, whether you think you 
 can attack the subjeet from this point, and whose services 
 you think of enlisting for it. If you think I can in any 
 way be of iise to you in the matter, you may count on my 
 willingness to help you. .^ ,' , ^^ 
 
 My wife wrote to your wife about a week ago. We 
 
26 GOETHB'S LBTTIES [1804. 
 
 intend going to Jena in three days time, and remaining 
 there, till my wife's confinement is over. Write and tell 
 me something about the performance of Tell in Berlia ; I 
 see from the papers that it went off fairly well. We are 
 eagerly expecting your melodies to the latest songs. I 
 send you a few other things out of the Swiss world. 
 I embrace you with all my heart. 
 
 Tours most sincerely, 
 
 SCHILLBE. 
 
 20. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 30th July, 1804. 
 
 Thank you very much for the play-bills which you 
 sent me through Mademoiselle Amelang. I look forward 
 with pleasure to your Schiller song, which we will do as 
 well as we can, so soon as our music begins to chime round, 
 us again. I hope in a month's time to have a reading- 
 rehearsal of my Gotz von BerlicMngen ; that it is so far ad- 
 vanced, is entirely owing to you. I did not understand 
 why, during a year past, I had dealt with my work like 
 Penelope, for ever unravelling again what I had woven. 
 Then in your essay I found the words, " What we do not 
 love, we cannot do ; " then my eyes were opened, and I saw 
 clearly that I had hitherto treated the work as a piece of 
 business, which, with others, had to be got rid of ; this 
 explained how it was done, and why it had no power of 
 lasting. Henceforth I devoted to this subject more at- 
 tention, sympathy, and concentration ; so the work — I will 
 not say gets good — but anyhow gets finished. 
 
 Now might I ask you for a couple of small pieces of 
 music P First, for Georg's song, Es fing ein Kndb'ein 
 Vogelein, which I believe you have already set ; secondly, I 
 want a quiet, devotional, and elevating four-part hymn, 
 with Latiu words, that would take some eight minutes to 
 perform. It may be a bit out of some Mass, or anything 
 else of the kind. 
 
 How much I wish we lived nearer one another, or that 
 we were both more mobile ; the results of enduring mutual 
 intercourse are incalculable. Anyhow, let us write to one 
 another from time to time. 
 
1804.] TO ZBLTBE. 27 
 
 Schiller has given us an admirable work in Tell, one 
 upon which we may all congratulate ourselves. 
 A thousand farewells. 
 
 GOEIHB. 
 
 21. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 8th August, 1804. 
 I THANK you most heartily for sending me the little 
 Bong so promptly, and will now go more into detail about 
 the Chorus in Ootis. It is really meant to be sung at the 
 nuptials of Maria and Sickingen. The simple Church 
 procession passes over the stage to the sound of a hymn, 
 an organ may perhaps be heard at a distance, and as the 
 chapel is close by, the chanting may continue audibly, 
 whilst a scene is being played outside. Have the goodness, 
 then, to take some words out of a Psalm. 
 
 The character of it, as you observe, is gentle and solemn, 
 inclining to sadness, on account of the circumstances ; a 
 prelude to the following scene, where those but just 
 married are, so to speak, chased away by Gotz. All things 
 considered, I think you are perfectly right in saying that 
 eight minutes are too long ; we will be content with four, 
 to fill up which is quite within my power 
 
 Thank you very much for the melody to my Serenade ; 
 it is very pleasing, and certainly better suited to my poem, 
 than my poem is to Reichardt's very praiseworthy melody. 
 
 The little song for Georg is quite appropriate, without 
 instrumental music ; we will see how the little fellow 
 turns out. I am very anxious to get this new version of 
 Goti: out of hand. I should long ago have had it finished, 
 but for its tiresome length ; for in trying to make the play 
 more theatrical, it became longer rather than shorter. 
 What was diffuse has certainly been condensed, but what 
 was transitory has become fixed ; it will still take nearly 
 four hours to play. Should it be given in Berlin, pray 
 write to me at once about your first impressions ; for with 
 the exception of the introductory part of the first Act of 
 iiie drama, and half of the second, which have been left 
 almost entirely as they were, the piece has been altogether 
 decomposed and recomposed. 
 
28 goethk's letters [1804. 
 
 My kind greetings to yonr dear wife, and thank her for 
 the interest she takes in my sons and daughters. I am, alas ! 
 still a long way from completing the continuation of my 
 NatUrliehe TocUer ; nay, I have several times been tempted 
 to destroy the First Part for really theatrical purposes, and 
 to make a single piece out of the whole of the Three Pa,rts 
 I first intended. No doubt the situations, which according 
 to the original plan are too long, would then appear much 
 too sketchy. Farewell, and pray forgive my rambling 
 letter. 
 
 G. 
 
 22. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 24th September, 1804. 
 By Herr Levin I again send you a packet of snufE, 
 which our dear Duchess Amalia * gave to me for you, with 
 many kind messages. I hope it may prove as good as the 
 last, and that more will follow. 
 
 Gotz has been played; I send you the gay play-bill. 
 Herr Levin undertakes to tell you about the play and the 
 performance. I should myself call it good, but for its ex- 
 cessive length. On future occasions, I mean to have merely 
 parts of it played, and thus ascertain what particular por- 
 tions the public would most readily dispense with, and 
 these can afterwards be entirely omitted. 
 
 Herr Levin will tell yon that your Choral hymn was 
 very charming and beautiful, and very well adapted for 
 bringing into relief the important moment. I enclose 
 an advertisement of our Art Exhibition of this year. I 
 shall write again in a few days. Let me hear from you 
 soon. 
 
 GoiiHB. 
 
 * Amalia, tlie Dowager-Duchess of Weimar, was a niece of Frede- 
 rick the Great. Schiller speaks of her intellect as " extremely limited," 
 though she learned Greek enough from Wieland to read Aristophanes, 
 translated Propertius, talked politics with the Abb€ Eaynal, and set 
 Goethe's Erwin und Elmire to music. Her correspondence with Goethe's 
 mother shows how little she cared for the dignities of her state, and 
 even Schiller owned that this pleasure-loving Duchess had " at any rate 
 the merit of throwing aside all the stiffness of ceremony." 
 
1804.] 
 
 TO ZXLTEB. 
 
 29 
 
 23. — Goethe to Ziltbr. 
 
 24th November,* 1804. 
 .... In return for your description of the picture 
 of Judas Iscariot, you shall in my next page have a de- 
 scription of an old picture, which unfortunately is lost to 
 us, and contrasts e Biametro with yours. In order to 
 shorten the reflections which force themselves upon my 
 mind, I will give you a design on the other side of this 
 page, showing how we, the latest philosophers, are wont, 
 by signs and abbreviations, to express ourselves to one 
 another. I am convinced that it will be as clear to you as 
 daylight. 
 
 With all good wishes, 
 
 G. 
 
 MKLBS AND KBITHEIS. 
 
 The Fable. 
 
 Kritheis, the nymph of the fountain, is in love with the 
 river-god Meles ; from these two, who are of Ionic origin, 
 Homer is born. 
 
 * On the 15th November, Zelter liad described in a letter from Berlin, 
 a picture by Carl Ludwig, called " The Damnation of Judas Iscariot." 
 In Letter 24 Goethe sends the description back to him for reference. 
 
30 goethe's letters [1804 
 
 The Picture. 
 
 Meles is represented in the flower of early youth. The 
 nymph, though she thirsts not, drinks from his spring, 
 which is visihly running into the sea ; she scoops the water 
 up, and seems to be chatting with the babbling fountain, 
 while her fond tears are falling into it. But the river 
 loves her in return, and is enjoying the sweet tribute. 
 
 The chief beauty of the picture lies in the figure of 
 Meles. He is reposing upon crocuses, lotus flowers, and 
 hyacinths, — a lover of flowers, as befits youth. His figure 
 is youthful and tender, though perfectly developed; one 
 might say his eyes were dreaming of some poetic thing. 
 
 But one of the most graceful features is, that no torrent 
 of water flows forth, but that, by passing his hand over 
 the surface of the earth, he causes the gently rising water 
 to gurgle through his fingers, so that it seems a river suited 
 to call forth the dreams of love. But it is no dream, 
 Kritheis ! thy silent wishes are not in vain. Soon the 
 waves will begin to surge up, and favouring your loves, 
 they will hide thee and the god beneath their emerald and 
 purple canopy. How lovely the girl is ! How delicate 
 and Ionic her form ! Modesty adds grace to her figure ; 
 and the flush on her cheeks is just sufficient. Her hair is 
 gathered under her ears and adorned with a purple fillet. 
 But she looks so sweet and simple, that her tears even do 
 not affect the tenderness of her expression. Her neck is 
 even more beautiful, as it is unadorned, and on looking at 
 her hands, we see soft long fingers, as white as the forepart 
 of the arm, which, as seen through the white robe, appears 
 whiter still ; the rounded bosom shows itself. 
 
 But what have the Muses to do here ? At Meles' spring 
 they are no strangers ; for before this, in the form of bees, 
 they guided the fleet of the Athenian colonies hither. 
 
 But as in this picture they lead their light dances, they 
 appear as joyous Fates, celebrating the approaching birth 
 of Homer. 
 
1804.] TO ZELTBB. 31 
 
 24. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 16th December, 1804. 
 Heebwith the letter you ask for, but please let me 
 have it back again at your convenience. I can well believe 
 that Jndas Iscariot was not very successful in Berlin. 
 Only a Sunday's-bairn could appreciate the merits of such 
 a subject. On the other hand, in the catalogue of the 
 Berlin Exhibition, many a page — nay, pages may be found, 
 containing a written account of what is not to be seen iu 
 the picture — ^nay, what cannot be seen in it. 
 
 I am very sorry that I am unable to attend your lectures. 
 To be sure, it is in accordance with my nature to live in a 
 small place ; but the worst is, that one has next to nothing 
 to relish there, except what one dishes up for oneself, whereas 
 in big places one can often and comfortably dine out. 
 
 Talking of dining out, reminds me of an earthly need, 
 which you can very well satisfy. Please send me by the 
 mail half a bushel of genuine Moravian turnips, only take 
 care that they are well packed, so that they may not be in- 
 stantly frost-bitten. In return I will send you one day soon 
 some Greek fruit, which has the great advantage of re- 
 freshing at the same time both body and soul. 
 
 A thousand fa,rewells. 
 
 ' J. W. Gobthe. 
 
'62 goithe's lettebs [1805. 
 
 1805. 
 
 25. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 29th January, 1805. 
 
 Turnips and fist have arrived safely, the former 
 
 .beautifully dry, the latter well frozen 
 
 The new version of Ootz von Berliehmgen was sent to 
 I£Sand * as early as the beginning of last December, but it 
 is his way to remain dumb in such cases, to cook and brew 
 things in his own mind, till he thinks them at last done 
 enough to come out with. So take no notice of it. In a 
 man of his merits one must excuse an oddity, and all the 
 more, as such behaviour is perhaps a necessity in his 
 position. So much for to-day. Thank your dear wife for 
 the parcel ; her recipe was carefully followed, and the dish 
 was capital. You shall soon hear again of phenomena 
 of opposed polarity, Greek pictures and Tarentine snuff. 
 Cheer up, and think of me. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 26. — GoETH]f TO Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 1st June, 1805. 
 Since the time I left ofE writing to you, I have had 
 ■few good days. I thought to lose myself, f and now I lose 
 a friend, and in him the half of my existence. In truth, I 
 ought to begin a new mode of life, but at m.y age there is 
 no longer a way. Now therefore I only look straight be- 
 
 * " Very significant to me was the observation I made, that he almost 
 invariably had it in his power to command the purest and most appro- 
 priate state of mind in his audience, which, of course, is possible only 
 by a union of genius, art, and study." — Goethe to Schiller, vol. ii.,p. 85. 
 Schiller preferred IfiBand's comic to his tragic acting. 
 
 t On the 2nd April, Zelter had written from Berlin ; " Your illness 
 has made quite a remarkable sensation here, and everyone is rejoiced at 
 your recovery ; I myself shall not be free from anxiety, till I get a line 
 from you again." Schiller died on the 9th May, while Goethe was still 
 weak and enfeebled from another relapse. 
 
1805.] TO ZELTEE. 33 
 
 fore me at each day as it comes, and do what is nearest to 
 me, without looking further afield. 
 
 But as, notwithstanding, people try to turn every loss 
 and misfortune into some diversion for themselves, I am 
 being urged by our actors, and many others, to honour our 
 departed friend's memory by a stage-performance. I shall 
 say nothing further about this, except that I am not disin- 
 clined, and all I should like to ask you just now is, whether 
 you would be willing to assist me in this, and first of all — 
 if you would be so kind as to let us have your Motett, Der 
 Menseh lebt wnd hestehet, of which I see a notice in the 27th 
 number of the Musilcalische Zeitung; will you either compose 
 something else in the solemn style, or look out and hand 
 over to us compositions, the character of which I would 
 specify to you, in order that suitable words may be added ? 
 As soon as I know your private opinion, you shall hear 
 further particulars. 
 
 Tour admirable series of short essays on the arrange- 
 ments of the Orchestra, I have hitherto kept by me, reaUy 
 because they contained a sort of satire upon the state of 
 affairs here. Reichardt now wishes to have them for the 
 Mudkalische Zeitimg, I have looked them up and read 
 them over again, and I find that I cannot possibly with- 
 hold them from the intelligence-sheet of our Lit&ratur 
 Zeitung, where they will very soon make a capital figure 
 under the line. Some of our affairs have undergone altera- 
 tion, and in the end we may perhaps blame even that which 
 we allow to happen. 
 
 Geheimrath Wolf of Halle is at present here. Could I 
 but hope to see you too this year ! Is there no likelihood 
 of your coming to Lauchstadt at the end of July, to assist 
 in preparing and carrying out the above-mentioned work ? 
 Think this over, and tell me ordy of the possibility ; the 
 means would be an after-consideration. How about your 
 store of snuff ? Meanwhile I have been fortunate enough 
 to get another packet of the genuine article. How shall I 
 send it you ? Farewell, and let me hear from you soon. 
 
 G. 
 
34. Goethe's litters [1805. 
 
 27. — Zblter to Goethe. 
 
 llth June, 1806. 
 .... The nnexpected death, of onr beloved ScHUer 
 has called forth a general and profound sensation here in 
 Berlin ; Iffiand's conduct, (though the underlying motives 
 are not yet clear), is honourable. He seems to be planning 
 something, or else to be working with peculiar energy for 
 some plan, that has been formed already. This evening a 
 very brilliant and earnest performance of Die Biiuber took 
 place ; the whole strength of our company and resources were 
 employed ; the house was densely packed. Iffland played 
 Franz, and was unmistakably determined to do his utmost ; 
 Karl and Amalie were equally well played by Mattausch 
 and Madame Fleck. Our public, with whom this play is a 
 great favourite, received it in the old way, but with re- 
 doubled enthusiasm. Kahale und lAebe is announced for 
 next Friday. It seems as if the Directors wished by a series 
 of performances of all Schiller's plays, given at short in- 
 tervals, partly to ffete the public, which worships Schiller, 
 and to sustain its zeal, partly to make patent the great 
 merits of the departed, and thus finally to do something 
 for Schiller's memory. Nor does the Treasury suffer by 
 this, for just now, whenever Schiller is played, the house is 
 always full — an unusual thing at this season of the year. 
 
 Then let us too do something in this matter, some- 
 thing which shall be in lasting connection with a lasting 
 subject. (This between ourselves, of course.) If you are 
 not too much over- wrought, it m.ight be a soothing, healing 
 employment for you, and I will pull myself together, and do 
 what I can — all the more, as really there exists nothing of 
 the kind that would be appropriate for a stage. Perhaps 
 our work might to this extent be universal, that it might be 
 
 used on any solemn occasion, as a regular stock piece 
 
 Tours, 
 Zeltie. 
 
 28. — Goethe to Zbltek. 
 
 Weimar, 19th June, 1805. 
 Mt best thanks for your prompt despatch of the 
 music I asked for. I will try, as soon as possible, to hear 
 
1806.] TO ZELTEE. 35 
 
 tte best they can make of it. On the whole I am of your 
 opinion, that we should have no patchwork on this occasion, 
 but cut something out of the whole piece. Unfortunately, 
 I have never been so lucky as to have a first-rate musician 
 by me, with whom I might have worked in common, so in 
 cases like this, I have always been obliged to keep to cobbling 
 and patching, and so once again I thought it would be my 
 fate in the present instance. 
 
 You shall now however hear of my scheme as soon as 
 possible, and let me know what you think of it. But our 
 plan, as well as our work, must be kept a secret, tUl we are 
 ready, and can step forward with an easy mind. 
 
 While working at Samieau's Neffe, and things connected 
 with it, I often thought of you, and wished for only a few 
 hours' talk with you. I know music more by reflection 
 than by enjoyment, and hei;ce only in the general sense. 
 I am glad this little volume amused you ; the dialogue too 
 is a genuine masterpiece. 
 
 I am in your debt for WilheVm Meister, as for much else 
 besides. Meantime a fresh box of Spanish snuff, which I 
 trust will arrive in good condition. 
 
 Iffland is perfectly right in taking advantage of the 
 pathological interest of the public for his purposes. If the 
 Germans are not touched rfealistically, it is difficult to touch 
 them ideally. If he carries out his series of representa- 
 tions, and leads them up to a first-rate performance for the 
 benefit of the children that are left, he will deserve praise. 
 I enclose the Frankfort absurdity. It is said in that paper, 
 that Schiller did not die rich, that he left four children ; 
 yet it offers the blessed public free admission to the funeral 
 ceremony ! Priests and monks contrive to make the 
 funeral ceremonies of their saints of greater benefit to the 
 survivors. The deep feeling of loss is the prerogative of 
 friends. The Frankfort gentlemen, who as a rule cannot 
 appreciate anything but money, would have done better to 
 express their sympathy more realistically, considering that, 
 (between ourselves be it said), they never paid our excellent 
 friend for a single manuscript, during his lifetime, though 
 he worked hard enough, but always waited, till they could 
 get the printed piece for twelve groschen. Pardon my 
 being so discursive. I could add much more, if 1 wished 
 
36 GOETHE 'S LETTERS [1805. 
 
 to say all that there is to say on this subject. Geheimrath 
 Wolf of Halle was with me for a fortnight. The presence 
 of this very able man has strengthened me in every sense. 
 I am daily expecting Jacobi.* Why may I not also hope 
 to see you this year ? 
 
 Farewell, and write to me again soon, in order that such 
 long pauses may not arise. Otherwise some da,y or other 
 we may unawares pause ourselves into life everlasting. 
 
 G. 
 
 29. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Lauchstadt, 4th August, 1805. 
 TJp to to-day, I have been flattering myself, though 
 with only a faint hope, that we should see you here. It is 
 one of the saddest conditions under which we suffer, that 
 not only death, but even life separates us from those we 
 most esteem and love, and whose co-operation could best 
 help us on our way. 
 
 That this letter may be despatched at once, I pass forth- 
 with from such sorrowful reflections to a request. I am 
 going to give a dramatic representation of Schiller's Glocke, 
 and beg you to help me with it. Bead the poem through, 
 and send me an appropriate Symphony for it, by any master. 
 Then, in the middle of the fifth verse, declaimed by the 
 Master, after the line : 
 
 Swij a holy word, 
 I should like a short Chorale, for which the words : 
 
 In all we strive to do, 
 
 Thy grace, Lord, be near us ! 
 might form the text. Thereupon, the following four lines, 
 as far as With waves of fiery Irown, would be spoken again, 
 
 • Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi, a philosophical writer, then well known 
 and author of a work on 7%e Teaching of Spinoza. It was ahnost thirteen 
 years since he and Goethe had met. They had been intimate in youth 
 though their friendship was often interrupted by differences of opinion' 
 ^^IJrw?^,**'" ^'■'^ Letters, p. 128, and passim.) Jacobi's harsh criticism 
 of mihelm Meister brought Schiller into the field, as Goethe's apologist. 
 It is difficult to reconcile the conflicting opinions of Lewes and Diintzer 
 as to the pleasure which Goethe, still smarting from the recent loss of 
 bchiUer, derived from the present visit. 
 
1805.] TO ZELTBB. 37 
 
 but the Chorus would then have to be repeated, or, if you 
 like, further developed musically. 
 
 In the final Chorus, I should like to hear the words : 
 
 Vivos voco. Mortuos plamgo. Fulg'wra frango. 
 
 in a Fugue, which, as far as possible, should imitate the 
 
 pealing of bells, and, as befits the occasion, lose itself in 
 
 Mortuos plango.* 
 
 If a happy thought should strike you, do me the favour 
 to work it out, and send me the scores direct to "Weimar, 
 whither I shall soon go. 
 
 If it were possible for your gift to reach me by the I9th 
 or 20th, it would come very opportunely ; for I should like 
 to start in Weimar with this representation. 
 
 I then hope to send yon the other poem, or at all events 
 a sketch of it, and it might be given on the 10th of Novem- 
 ber, in honour of our friend's birthday. More in a few 
 days' time. 
 
 G. 
 
 30. — GrOETHE TO ZelTER. 
 
 Lauchetadt, 1st September, 1805. 
 I AM once more in Lauchstadt, and am dictating 
 this, in the rooms where your presence made me so happy. 
 I have been to Magdeburg with Geheimrath Wolf, and 
 from thence to Helmstadt, where I found many very in- 
 ' teresting persons and things ; afterwards, we went by way 
 of Halberstadt, past the Harz, and returned, by way of 
 Aschersleben to Halle. 
 
 Here I am, again quite alone, after sending my son 
 Augustus, who has accompanied me so far, back to Weimar, 
 and I am recapitulating all the good that has befallen me 
 during the last eight weeks, and trying by degrees to evoke 
 what we agreed upon. 
 
 An ancient work which fell into my hands, almost acci- 
 dentally, will be useful for this purpose. Ton will receive 
 herewith my translation of a translation. As soon as I can 
 
 • The performance took place at Lauchstadt, on the 10th August, 
 Goethe added an Epilogue to the poem. Zelter's music has been set 
 aside for Romberg's, which may perhaps be superseded by that of Max 
 Bruch. 
 
38 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1805. 
 
 revise it in accordance with, the original, the words will, 
 of course, sound quite differently, but I dare say you will 
 find no more food for thought in it then, than you will 
 now, though here and there the expressions still halt. 
 Do write, and send your letter soon to Weimar. Before 
 I leave these parts, you shall hear more from me. In 
 particular, I am now dictating something about the under- 
 lined passage in that old mystic* A thousand farewells, 
 and thanks for your visit, which made me glad to live 
 again, and increased my gladness. 
 
 Enclosure. 
 
 " As we are convinced, that he who contemplates the 
 intellectual world, and is conscious of the beauty of real 
 intellect, can also take note of the Father of them, who is 
 exalted above all sense, let us endeavour to acquire insight, 
 to the best of our powers, and for ourselves express, in so 
 far as such things can be made clear, the way in which we 
 can intuitively perceive the beauty of the mind and of the 
 world. 
 
 " Suppose then two blocks of stone placed beside one 
 another, one of which was left in the rough, without any 
 artistic work on it, while the other was shaped by Art into 
 a statue of some man or deity. If the latter, it might 
 represent a Grace or a Muse ; if the former, it need be no 
 man in particular, but rather one put together by Art out of 
 everything beautiful. To you, however, the stone brought 
 by Art into a lovely form, will forthwith appear beautiful, 
 though not because it is a stone — for else the other mass 
 would likewise pass for beautiful — but because it has a 
 form which Art gave it. 
 
 " Yet the material had not such a form ; that was in the 
 inventor, before it reached the stone ; it was, however, in 
 the artist, not because he had eyes and hands, but because 
 he was gifted with Art. 
 
 " Therefore, there was a still greater beauty in the Art. 
 For it is not the form, resting in Art, which reaches the 
 stone, but it remains there, and another inferior form goes 
 
 * Plotinus, Ennead. K, lib. viii., c. I., p. 541, ei Mersil. Ficinus. 
 Basil. MDCxv. 
 
1805.] TO ZELTEE. 39 
 
 forth, whicli neither continues in its own purity, nor even 
 as the artist wished it, except in so far as the material 
 obeyed the Art. 
 
 " But when Art produces also that which it is and pos- 
 sesses, and the beautiful, according to reason, her constant 
 guide ; then of course that Art which possesses more, and 
 more truthfully, a greater and more excellent beauty of Art, 
 is more perfect than anything else which comes to outward 
 expression. 
 
 " For inasmuch as the form, advancing into material, 
 gains extension by that very act, it becomes weaker than 
 that which continues undivided. For that which endures 
 separation, steps aside from itself, strength from strength, 
 warmth from warmth, force from force, beauty too from 
 beauty. The motive power must be more excellent than 
 the result. For it is not the unmusical which makes the 
 musician, but music, and the super-sensuous music pro- 
 duces music in sensuous tones. 
 
 "But should any one despise the Arts, because they imitate 
 Nature, let him take this for an answer, that natures also 
 imitate much besides — ^nay, more — that the Arts do not 
 precisely imitate what we see with our eyes, but go back to 
 that rational element, of which Nature consists, and in 
 accordance with which she acts. 
 
 "Further — the Arts produce much out of themselves, 
 and on the other hand, add much that falls short of per- 
 fection, whilst they have beauty in themselves. Thus 
 Phidias could create the god, though he actually imitated 
 nothing perceptible to his senses, but he grasped such a 
 divinity in his mind, as Jove himself would appear, should 
 he ever meet our eyes." 
 
 31. — Goethe to Zeltbr 
 
 Weimar, 18th November, 1805. 
 Mt thanks for your kind thought of my bodily 
 welfare must no longer be delayed, especially as the pro- 
 ducts of Brandenburg and England have come safe to hand. 
 The turnips are all the more welcome, as there are no 
 chestnuts on the B/hine or Maine this year. So we do not 
 eat them as a separate dish, but served up with cabbage, 
 
40 Goethe's letters [1805. 
 
 they are very effective. On the 9th of November, as the 
 day on which we too wished to commemorate Schiller in 
 our Theatre, his Imperial Majesty of Russia was content 
 with a performance of Wallenstein's Lager ; so soon as you 
 kindly send us your work, we will make up for lost time. 
 
 How fares it with your music lessons ? I too have set 
 aside one morning in every week,- on which I lecture to 
 a small circle, on my- experiences and convictions, relative 
 to natural history. This opportunity enables me for the 
 first time to realize what I possess — what I do not possess.* 
 
 Demoiselle Jagemannf too has at last arrived. The 
 play-bills have come to hand, and were very welcome, as 
 they were a proof of your kind remembrances. Let me 
 soon hear from you again. The results of my quiet work 
 will, ere long, give you some pleasure. 
 
 So much for to-dav ; with best wishes, 
 
 G. 
 
 • "He (Goethe) delivered lectures on Natural Science, on Colour, 
 Magnetism, Elasticity, every Wednesday morning before a select circle, 
 consisting of the Princess (Caroline) and her governess, Charlotte von 
 Stein and her sister-in-law ; and in these lectures he sought to' inter- 
 weave ethical considerations. His delivery, the result of careful thought 
 and practice, pleasant to hear, and instinct with feeling, charmed the 
 ladies, notwithstanding the habit of often passing his hand over his 
 forehead, in which he resembled Gall." (See Lyster's Translation of 
 Diintzer's Life of Goethe, vol. ii., p. 235.) 
 
 f Caroline Jagemann, a famous actress, mistress of the Grand Duke 
 Karl August, who created her Baroness von Heygendorf. She was very 
 jealous of Goethe's influence over him, and headed an intrigue, with a 
 view of forcing Goethe to resign his post, as Intmdant of the Weimar 
 Theatre ; this he finally did, in consequence of his annoyance, when the 
 Grand Duke invited a comedian, named Karsten, to exhibit his poodle on 
 the stage, in the well-known drama of The Dog of Aiibry. Goethe, 
 who loathed dogs, declared he would have nothing more to do with the 
 Theatre, and Karl August, who refused to give way, offensively dis- 
 missed him. Caroline Jagemann is also said to have been the only 
 woman, to whom Schopenhauer, the pessimist philosopher, was deeply 
 attached^ 
 
1806.] TO ZELTEE. 41 
 
 1806. 
 
 .32. — GoiTHE TO Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 5tli March, 1806. 
 .... I HAVE felt tempted several times lately, to 
 pay you and Berlin a visit, but once more so many things 
 chain me to the spot, that I really do not see my vray to a 
 happy determination. But as I feel the pressing need, not 
 only of hearing from you, but also of vividly realizing your 
 circumstances, and of bringing mine more clearly before you, 
 it has occurred to me to send you my son,* so that he may 
 take my kindest greetings to you, and that also, in his 
 early days, when worldly things still make a jovial impres- 
 sion, he may absorb, and also vividly recall for my enjoyment, 
 the image of the great city. 
 
 Now though he is already a steady boy, and able to take 
 care of himself, I had rather not think he was quite alone, 
 and left to himself in that whirlpool of a town. Let me 
 ask then, if you could get him lodgings near you, and at 
 first provide him with what he wants. I send you a letter 
 of credit, so that he may not have all the money he may need, 
 in his pocket at once. I shall say no more about this ; all 
 else must depend on circumstances. The main point is : 
 whether such a visit would not bore you ? I shall give him 
 letters and cards to my other friends in Berlin, and he is 
 sure to make friends, but before all things I should like to 
 know that he was safely established. His visit ought not 
 to extend beyond a fortnight or three weeks ; he might 
 arrive the week before Easter. A thousand greetings, and 
 please let me have an answer soon. 
 
 Or. 
 
 33. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 26th March, 1806. 
 ScAECBiiY had I sent my letter, telling of the post- 
 ponement of Augustus' journey, when yours arrived, with 
 
 * Julius August Walther Goethe, Goethe's only son ; he married 
 Ottilie Ton Pogwisoh, and died at Bome on the 28th October, 1830. 
 
42 Goethe's letters [1806. 
 
 this unexpected and distressing news,* whicli has utterly 
 upset me. At the very time when Berlin is more than ever 
 before my eyes, when with a map before us', we are looking 
 for the new Mwnzstrasse, and I am hoping to get a clearer 
 idea of yourself and your surroundings from my boy, just 
 as last year he brought me back the picture of my mother, 
 — you are experiencing a violent wrench — one which I feel 
 with yon in every sense. I must now think of you as 
 lonely, with the cares of a large household upon you, and with 
 much difficult business to attend to — or felse my thoughts 
 revert to my own self, and I imagine a like terrible event 
 in my own case. Unfortunately, the obstacle which detains 
 my deputy, cannot be set aside, otherwise I should send 
 him at once, for the presence of a new, friendly, and affec- 
 tionate being, would perhaps be a comfort to you, and the 
 good to which it would give rise, would probably counter- 
 balance the inconvenience it might occasion. It would 
 also be consoling to me, to know that a representative of 
 my affection, and of my heartfelt sympathy, was with you ; 
 but even this is not to be, and all this happens at a time, 
 when I too have many burdens to lift and drag after me. 
 No more ! Pray, let me have further news of you soon. 
 
 G. 
 
 34. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 nth June, 1806. 
 .... I HAVE just come home from the new Romantic 
 play, which you have probably heard of, as it is being so 
 much discussed : Die Weihe der Kraft. The author is Herr 
 Werner, t the same who wrote Die Sohne des Thais. Very 
 conflicting criticisms I expect will be made on the play, for 
 one part of the public expects something great, whereas the 
 other is prejadiced against it, because it turns the Reforma- 
 
 * Zelter had written to tell Goethe of his wife's death in childbirth, on 
 the 16th March. 
 
 f Zacharias Werner, author of The Sons of the Valley, and Wanda, a 
 play greatly admired by Goethe, who had it performed at Weimar the 
 following year. Goethe (who humorously calls him " Dr. Luther "), 
 was infected for the time being with Werner's passion for writing 
 sonnets, but owing to his extravagant mysticism, his influence over the 
 poet soon wore off. 
 
1806.] TO ZBLTEB. 43 
 
 tion into a subject for mirth and amusement. So at least 
 I apprehend, for the police took precautions for the first 
 performance, which necessarily presupposes some public 
 excitement. 
 
 The play is quite good enough for us, and would have to 
 be much better, to please the multitude less. I judge it, as 
 I do a Sonata by a young composer : it has everything in it, 
 like Noah's Ark. The author, it seems, tried to bind up 
 high aspirations with his subject, and then, his bundle 
 getting too heavy, in the fifth Act, after the destruction of 
 image-worship and feeling for Art, he lets it fall on the 
 middle of the high road. People pray and sing — ^by note 
 — and the general impression on my mind was— repulsive 
 religiosity. It ceases to be a play, it is the parody of a 
 serious and sacred crisis of the Church ; whilst endeavour- 
 ing to make itself iatelligible, it profanes itself. Nothing 
 worth speaking of is left for meditation. Luther alone has 
 every advantage, and the Papacy, in contrast to him, cuts 
 an awkward, nay, stupid figure ; a vulgar piece of devilry, 
 with no charms, nothing to stimulate, pique, nor impose 
 upon the multitude. Unbehef, (the Emperor and the 
 Kingdom), stands between, with no will, no influence. 
 Allegory does not face history, as a looking-glass does an 
 object; it stands by its side, reproducing, ruminating on 
 itself. Needless to say, our soi-discmt clergy are fain to fly 
 into a passion, when their flocks had rather go to the 
 Theatre than the Church, for their sermons, anthems and 
 prayers 
 
 35. — Zblteb to Goethe. 
 
 2nd August, 1806. 
 .... On the 23rd July we had a very merry 
 sledging-party. Several officers of the Royal Gendarmerie 
 had had a sledge built with covered wheels, and after 10 
 o'clock at night, drove through the streets of Berlin, with 
 lots of torch-bearers, and making a great noise. In the 
 sledge sat Doctor Luther with an immense flute, and 
 opposite him, his friend Melancthon ; on the back-seat of 
 the sledge was Catherine von Bora, holding a whip, which 
 
44 Goethe's letters [1806. 
 
 she cracked as they went past, and wearing a huge train, 
 ten yards long. On cavalry horses sat the nuns of the 
 Augustine convent, carrying torches, led by their prioress ; 
 they also had long trains and wore ugly masks. The 
 procession paraded the streets for several hours, to the 
 delight of the pleasure-loving public. There are many 
 diif erent explanations of this undergraduate joke ; the most 
 likely, as I think, is this, that the dramatic tendency of 
 Luther is nearly synonymous with what we call a summer 
 sledging-party * — a mere craze for a daily novelty. Iffland 
 is so much annoyed, that they say he personally complained 
 of this indecency to the King. The result is, that one of 
 these officers has been removed from Berlin, and the 
 others are under arrest, having been warned that they 
 would be cashiered, if they tried anything of the kind 
 again. Thus the matter stands at present, and since then, 
 the play has not been acted again. However, the culprits 
 show few signs of repentance, and — it is said — are only 
 waiting for the expiration of their term of arrest, to make 
 
 it hot again for Iffland 
 
 Z. 
 
 36. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Jena, 15th August, 1806. 
 .... On my return from Carlsbad, I found several 
 things that pleased me extremely, in addition to your 
 letter; e.g. the opinions of a young painter on colour, which 
 are definite and circumstantial. One part of his short essay 
 is almost word for word the same in my Farbenlehre. The 
 commentary on another part of his work will be found in 
 mine, and there are ceHain passages, which I shall ask the 
 author to make over to me, inasmuch as my own con- 
 victions could not be expressed better. To find this agree- 
 ment of opiaions in a cotemporary, who has hitherto 
 known absolutely nothing about me and my endeavours, 
 gives me fresh inclination to go on and finish my task. So 
 
 much for to-day 
 
 G. 
 
 * A proverbial expression for any artificial amusement, to which 
 people have recourse, merely for the sake of change. 
 
1806.] to zeltee. 45 
 
 37. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, 26th December, 1806. 
 Thanes a thousand times, dear friend, for having at 
 last broken the painful silence. Since the 14th October * 
 I have been with you daily in thought, and even while 
 writing this, a sealed letter, addressed to you, is lying on my 
 desk, but I had not the courage to send it off. For what 
 have we to tell one another ? On the 12th December I 
 kept your birthday in silence ; and in the future too, I sup- 
 pose, we shall only be able to celebrate in silence, what is good 
 in silence. Anyhow I have got through these bad days with- 
 out much harm. There was no need for me to take part in 
 public affairs, as they were sufficiently well attended to by able 
 men ; and thus I could keep in my cell, and brood over my 
 inmost thoughts. During the worst hours, when one could 
 not but be anxious about everything, my greatest fear was 
 that of losing my papers, and from that time onwards, I 
 have been sending everything I can to the printers. My 
 Farhenlehre makes brave progress. My ideas and fancies 
 about organic Natare too are gradually being revised, and 
 thus I shall endeavour to rescue all I can of my intellectual 
 being, as no one can tell what may be the fate of the rest. 
 
 Some proof-sheets of my works, published by Cotta, have 
 come to hand. Some of the poems of the first volume will, 
 I hope, call forth melodies from you, so that we may feel 
 and see, that we are still the same as of old. I congratulate 
 you upon having found your musical treasures unharmed. 
 I am sorry that you are involved in the Administration, as 
 for much besides that Herr Schmidt tells me of. How- 
 ever, nowadays, it is not in our power to say, in which 
 direction we should prefer being active. Tour good spirit 
 will never forsake you ; may your good courage likewise 
 never fail you. Let me occasionally hear something of 
 you ; I will write also. A hearty farewell ! 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 • The date of the battle of Jena. On the 15th October Napoleon 
 came to Weimar, on the 16th he ordered that the plundering should 
 cease, and on the 17th he left the town. On November 3rd Goethe 
 writes to F. A. Wolf: " I have had first General Victor, then Marshals 
 Lannes and Augereau in the house, with adjutants and suite." On the 
 very day that he wrote to Zelter, (December 26th), Goethe re-opened the 
 Theatre. 
 
46 Goethe's lhttbes [1807. 
 
 1807. 
 
 38. — Goethe to Zeltbb. 
 
 Wiemar, 4th May, 1807. 
 Best thanks for your music to my verses. Just 
 now it is most refresliing to take refuge, if only for a short 
 time, in a light and easy mood. 
 
 The company game you ask me about, is played thus : 
 Take a thin shaving of wood, or a taper, light it, and let it 
 bum a little, then blow out the flame, and while it is left 
 smouldering, repeat, as fast as you can, the following 
 adage : — 
 
 " Dies the fox, the skin's a treasure. 
 Length of days means loss of youth ; 
 If he lives, why, let him live, 
 If he dies, why, let him die. 
 Never bury him with his skin, 
 That survives to honour him." 
 
 Then pass the glimmering taper quickly on to your neigh- 
 bour, who has to repeat the same stanza, and this goes on, 
 till the last spark is extinguished ; the person, in whose 
 hand it goes out, must pay a forfeit. 
 
 Our Duchess Dowager is a great loss,* at a time when 
 so much is topsy-turvy, and out of joint. "We must reflect 
 no further on this subject, nor on anything else at the 
 present time. We must live on from one day to another, 
 
 and do and accomplish what is still possible 
 
 G. 
 
 39. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 7th May, 1807. 
 .... I AM very glad to hear that you liked my 
 Mpenor,f and the object of those pages has now been at- 
 
 * The Duchess Amalia died April 10th, 1807, and Goethe's brief 
 account of her life and influence was read aloud from all the pulpits 
 in the country, at the solemn service held in her memory, nine days 
 afterwards. 
 
 t This fragment of a tragedy had been begun as far back as 1781. 
 In 1798 Goethe sent it to Schiller, who wrote thus ! " If it is not by the 
 
1807.] TO ZELTEE. 47 
 
 tained. Perhaps, however, your affection for me personally 
 must be looked upon, as influencing you in the praise you 
 bestow on my fragment : for I willingly own, that I am no 
 longer able to judge this work myself. When anything 
 comes to a standstill, one never knows whether it is one's 
 own fault, or that of the subject. Generally, however, one 
 entertains an aversion for what one cannot finish, as for a 
 thing that resists one, and which one cannot master. In 
 fact, while publishing my works, I have felt very keenly, 
 how strange these things have become to me, nay, that I 
 scarcely feel any more interest in them. This goes so far, 
 that unless I had had continued, loyal, friendly assistance, 
 those twelve little volumes would never have been put 
 together. However, we have now got through most of 
 them, and, with the exception of one volume, they wiU all 
 be in Cotta's hands, within the next few days. Then come 
 what may to us, this much at any rate will be safe. I 
 am anticipating with joy your diversion over the con- 
 tinuation of my Faust; it contains, too, things which will 
 interest you from a musical point of view. 
 
 Tou would do me a great favour, if you could procure me 
 a catalogue of the works of Art, which have been taken 
 away from Berlin ; if only we know where they are kept, 
 they will not be lost to us. 
 
 Farewell, and write again before Whitsuntide, and then 
 send me news of yourself to Carlsbad. 
 
 G. 
 
 40. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Carlsbad, 27th July, 1807. 
 
 It is a long time, my very dear friend, since you 
 
 heard from me. I will now shortly tell you what I h&ve 
 
 been doing in the meantime. I came to Carlsbad in a very 
 
 poor state of health, which was at first so aggravated by a 
 
 hand of a woman, still it suggests a certain womanliness of sentiment, 
 even in so far as a man might possess this feature of character." Goethe, 
 who had accidentally omitted to tell Schiller the real authorship of the 
 work, was delighted with the clearness and justice of his remarks upon 
 it, and said that they explained, why he himself had never cared to finish 
 it. (See Schiller and Goethe Correspondence, vol. ii., pp. 106, 107.) 
 
48 Goethe's letters [1807. 
 
 careless use of the waters, common indeed, but not suitable 
 for me, as I then was, that I sank into a miserable condition. 
 By the change of cure, and by the use of other means, pre- 
 scribed by Dr. Kappe of Leipzig, things suddenly took a 
 turn for the better ; as this has lasted for six weeks, I 
 gladly let my friends know of it. It is eight weeks now 
 since I came here, and I have been occupying myself ia 
 different ways at different epochs : first of all in dictating 
 short fairy-tales and stories, which I have long carried 
 about in my head ; then for a time, I took to drawing land- 
 scapes, and illuminating, and am now engaged in classifying 
 my geological opinions relating to the district round about, 
 and in briefly commenting on a collection of rock specimens, 
 which is on view here. 
 
 I have become acquainted with interesting people of all 
 kinds ; amongst whom, Reinhard, the French resident, 
 who but lately held an appointment in Jassy, and whose 
 fortunes you are sure to have heard of, probably ranks 
 first. As a rule however, I am very much alone, for in the 
 world one meets with nothing but Jeremiads, which although 
 they are called forth by great evils, appear nevertheless to 
 be mere hollow phrases, as you hear them in society. When 
 V anyone laments over what he and those around him are 
 suffering, what he has lost and fears to lose, — I listen with 
 sympathy, and am glad to discuss the matter and to com- 
 fort him. But when people lament over the whole thing 
 that is supposed to be lost, but which no one in Germany 
 has ever in his life seen, and much less cared about, — I have 
 to conceal my impatience, in order not to appear impolite, 
 or an egotist. As already said, it would be inhuman not 
 to sympathize with a man, who feels the loss of his living, 
 the destruction of his career ; but i£ such a man thinks 
 that the world has in the smallest degree suffered in conse- 
 quence, I cannot possibly agree with him. 
 
 Write and tell me, dear friend, how you are getting on. 
 I have thought of you a thousand times, and of what you 
 have accomplished as a private person, without the support 
 of the wealthy and powerful, and without any special 
 encouragement. Perhaps what we have most to regret 
 from political change, is mainly this, that under its old 
 constitution, Germany, and especially the Northern part, 
 
1807.] TO ZBLTEE. 49 
 
 allowed the individual to cultivate himself, as far as possible, 
 and that it permitted everyone to do what was right in his 
 own eyes, without, however, there ever being any special 
 interest shown in him by the community. 
 
 To these general, and certainly inadequate reflections, 
 which I should like some day to discuss further with you 
 personally, I wish to add a special request, which I beg you 
 will kindly comply with soon. 
 
 Although we have both voices and orchestra in Weimar, 
 and in addition to that, I am the master of such ceremonies, 
 still I never could secure musical enjoyment with any certain 
 regularity, because the odious relations of life and the 
 Theatre invariably destroy the higher element, for which 
 alone they exist, or ought to exist. Schleswig has again 
 sent us two new people, a very good Tenor, and a kind of 
 assistant rehearser; I have not yet made their personal 
 acquaintance, but they seem to be good and intelligent 
 people. Our Opera, as at present constituted, I do not 
 care to interfere with, particularly as I do not thoroughly 
 understand these musical matters. I should therefore pre- 
 fer leaving the Secular to itself, and withdrawing into the 
 Sanctuary. Now I should like once a week to have sacred 
 part-songs performed at my house, in the same way as at 
 your Singakademie, though it were but the most , far-off 
 reflection of it. Help me to this, and send me some part- 
 songs for four voices, not too difficult, and with the parts 
 already written out. I will gratefully reimburse you for any 
 expense you may incur. Let me linow whether I could get 
 such things, with notes printed or engraved. Canons too, 
 and whatever you may think useful for the purpose. Ton 
 shall always be in our midst, in spirit, and heartily welcome 
 whenever you care to appear in person. Let me have a 
 few lines, for I shall remain another month here, and send 
 me a parcel to Weimar, that I may begin at once, when I 
 get home. Farewell, and rest assured of my lasting friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Gr- 
 
so GOETHE'S LETTERS [1807. 
 
 41. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Carlsbad, 30th August, 1807. 
 .... There is really something Promethean in 
 your nature, which I can only wonder at and esteem. 
 While you were calmly and patiently bearing what is 
 hardly to be borne, and forming plans ahead for happy and 
 creative activity, I have been acting like one who has 
 already crossed Cocytus, and has at least tasted the waters of 
 Lethe. Otherwise, in so far as I still feel myself a denizen 
 of this earth, I have done what I could after my fashion, 
 taking in many an experience, reading a good deal, learn- 
 ing, making notes, working things out, &o 
 
 42. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 15th September, 1807. 
 Totr really are a good friend! When I returned 
 home, I found the songs, and we have already started our 
 little SmgscJmle. We shall by degrees attract our stage- 
 singers and Ohoros, besides people from the Town ; then 
 we shall see how we get on. We have plenty of room in 
 our Theatre. 
 
 Tour renewed invitation makes my heart heavy. It is 
 unpardonable, that I should still be unacquainted with your 
 Institution, but for several years past, I have felt a certatu 
 clinging to the place I live in; this has mainly arisen 
 from the many interests awakened, but as yet undeveloped 
 within me. Thus I am busy throughout the year, merely 
 in trying to get things cjeared up here and there, inde- 
 pendently of the circumstances of my health and time. 
 The latter, however, would be less likely to prevent my 
 coming, were it not for the former. But on a closer survey, 
 I feel a dread of new influences and excitements, and there- 
 fore, of my own free will, deny myself many a pleasure. 
 
 The praise given to our Theatre by Leipzig, inspires me 
 with energy and heart, once more to devote myself eagerly 
 to the business of this winter, We have, in this instance, 
 been rewarded for our perseverance, and shall go on in the 
 old way, with confidence and hope; and thus, even the 
 
1807.] TO ZKLTKR. 51 
 
 basest detraction and opposition, snch as we once had to 
 experience from Berlin, will be of no avail. Tour per- 
 severance too, my worthy friend, is ever before my eyes. 
 I am only afraid, that if yon do go to Italy, the glorious 
 bond of so many years will be dissolved. It is pleasant 
 and natural, that some of the grains of seed, scattered broad- 
 cast by you, should have fallen upon the tea-tables.* Please 
 get me some songs of that kind ; they might be the very 
 thing for birds of our feather ! 
 
 I shall not tell you anything about my other doings, but 
 hope soon to be able to send you some of the fruits of my 
 quiet industry. Farewell, and let me too have a song now 
 and then. I could the more readily enjoy such little things 
 just now, as I have several guitars at hand, if you would 
 set them to an easy accompaniment for that instrument. 
 
 G. 
 
 43. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Jena, 16tli December, 1807. 
 FiEST of all, dear Friend, I could not ask enough of 
 you ; now it was one thing, now another ; I plagued you 
 with my commissions, though you have enough to do with- 
 out them, and now that everything has come, songs, price- 
 list, and turnips, I am like those, whose prayers have been 
 answered, and with no more thanks, turn from the giver to 
 the gifts. I will not excuse this, for there is always time 
 to send a few lines to a friend ; but since my return home 
 from the baths, I have felt strangely oppressed by the 
 Present, as though I had to pay another penalty for those 
 four months, which I spent upon the unclouded mountain- 
 heights, like a retired Gymnosophist. To be sure, nothing 
 disagreeable has happened to me ; but yet so much that I 
 liked and disliked forced itself upon me, that neither my 
 physical, nor my moral powers, were quite sufficient for 
 the task. 
 
 I thought I should at last be able to send you the second 
 
 * In allusion to the small vocal societies in Berlin, called Singe- Thees. 
 There were about fifty of them, and Zelter viewed them with some 
 suspicion, as being " the most dangerous enemies of the Bingakademie" 
 though it owed its origin to one of them. 
 
52 Goethe's letters [1807. 
 
 batch of my works, but it has not even reached me yet, — 
 not so much as a complete set of proof-sheets ; otherwise 
 I should have sent these in the meantime, in so far as they 
 contain anything new. 
 
 My small Choir, which, it is true, consists as yet of hardly 
 more than four voices, is educating itself quite nicely, and 
 even already shows its influence upon the Theatre. Shortly 
 before I left home, it was greatly improved by the acqui- 
 sition of a young female voice, which might almost pass 
 for a Counter-Tenor. Might I ask you, at your convenience, 
 to let me have Schiller's Punschlied ? Unfortunately I 
 have but one voice-part left ; the others have been mislaid. 
 
 Werner, " the Son of the Valley," * has been with us in 
 Jena, for the last twelve days ; we find him interesting 
 and agreeable. He reads us portions of his printed and 
 unprinted works, and thus we are enabled to look beyond 
 the strange, outward shells of these phenomena, into the 
 kernel, which is toothsome and strong. 
 
 So much, my dearest friend, for the present. I am 
 packing up to return to Weimar. I have been very happy 
 here, and — you would never guess it, I have been drawn 
 into Sonnetteering. I shall send you a dozen some day 
 soon, on the one condition that no one sees them, and that 
 they are not copied. But should you care to set one of 
 them to music, I should be very much pleased ; I am only 
 too glad to see my productions floating in your element. 
 Write to me again, if only a line or two. A word from a 
 friend is doubly enjoyable, in these short, dark days. 
 
 Geheimrath Wolf has given us an excellent number on 
 the study of antiquity, which is rich in thought, and re- 
 minds us of everything we know, pointing out in a friendly 
 way, what else we ought to know, and how we should 
 deal with the whole matter. Once more, farewell ! 
 
 G. 
 
 * See Note on Werner, Letter 34. 
 
1808.] TO ZELTEE. 63 
 
 1808. 
 
 44. — Goethe to Zeltek. 
 
 Weimar, 22nd January, 1808. 
 " Out of the eater came forth meat, and ont of the 
 strong came forth sweetness " — so said I, when your well- 
 filled hamper was unpacked. Everything came safely, and 
 the jar was so well squeezed in, that nothing ran out of 
 it, though it had had a good shaking. The housekeeper 
 thanks you, but Augustus is particularly grateful — it is he, 
 who is in a condition to make the largest inroads on your 
 present ; we others help ourselves more moderately. 
 
 The music has already been handed over to our little 
 School ; your first consignment is still the best thing we 
 have had for some time past. The greater part of it was 
 performed yesterday before our Princesses, who were much 
 pleased. 
 
 You once told me something about a Stabat Mater; 
 pardon me for reminding you of it. My little Institution 
 gets on well ; but the young people, as you well know, are 
 very fond of stepping out of the rut, and each one fancies 
 himself better off, when he is singing some pitiful or 
 mournful lament of unrequited love, as a Solo. I allow 
 such things, towards the end of each Session, and at the 
 same time execrate men like Matthisson, Salis, Tiedge, and 
 the Clergy in a body, who show us heavy Germans — even 
 in songs — a path beyond the world, which we leave quickly 
 enough, as it is. Add to this, that musicians themselves 
 are often hypochondriacal, and that even joyous music 
 may dispose to melancholy. I praise what springs from you, 
 dear friend. Again yesterday, during the Niemals erscheinen 
 die Gbtter allein, and in the Liehe Frev/nde, es gab bessre Zeiten,* 
 it seemed just as if everyone was shaking from his head 
 the dust and ashes of the century. So much good I owe 
 
 * Poems by Schiller. 
 
64 Goethe's letters [1808. 
 
 to you ; perhaps some day I shall be able to repay yon. 
 May you be happy ! 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 45. — Goethe to Zelter, 
 
 Weimar, 20th April, 1808. 
 Hbee are the songs, dearest Friend. Just glance at 
 them ! Perhaps you will make some remarks in red ink, 
 and say generally what you think of the young man's * 
 gift, and in particular, let me know how far he seems to 
 have gone in this difficult art. I shall perhaps send him 
 to you about Michaelmas, as next winter, he may possibly 
 become the Conductor of my small musical parties. As I 
 was not fated to revel, at ease, at the rich table of a great 
 city, I must cultivate and plant on a small scale, and pro- 
 duce and accomplish what is possible, at the time, and under 
 the circumstances. 
 
 Pray tell me, when you have time, something about 
 Church music in Constantinople, which, with the Greek 
 Church, seems to have spread in the Bast, and to have 
 influenced the Sarmatian peoples. Whence comes, do you 
 think, the universal tendency towards minor-tones, which 
 can be traced, even in the Polonaise ? 
 
 This Easter, eight Choristers have passed through here, 
 on their way from St. Petersburg to Paris, to join the 
 Choir of the Russian Ambassador's Chapel. They sang 
 in the Greek Church here, on both feast days, when — as 
 his Royal Highness told me— they perform nothing but 
 genuine, ancient Church compositions. The nearest thing 
 that I have heard to it, is the Canto fermo of the Italians, 
 and the way in which the Passion is given in the Papal 
 
 Chapel, in the actual words of the Evangelists 
 
 G. 
 
 * Traugott Maximilian Eberweia, who afterwards conducted the 
 little concerts, given at Goethe's house, on Sunday mornings, before a 
 select audience, who were always invited to breakfast. 
 
1808,j TO ZELTEE. 55 
 
 46. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 1st May, 1808. 
 .... Amongst Herr Eberwein's songs, wticli I 
 herewith return, with the first sheets of FoMst, — Am 
 Neujah/rstage pleases me most ; one recognizes a definite 
 sentiment in it, and what is still more, this sentiment is 
 homogeneous throughout 
 
 The faults of a master are always the outcome of mas- 
 tery, and therefore do no harm ; filigree- work, on the other 
 hand, only veils the disgrace of bungling 
 
 Tou ask, whence comes the universal tendency towards 
 minor-tones, traceable even in the Polonaise. I have had 
 the same experience, but musical historians give no satis- 
 factory information on the erubject I think I first 
 
 met with the almost universal bias in favour of the minor 
 keys, in the songs of Northern nations, especially of dwellers 
 in the Islands, and on the Coasts. The history of the art 
 of music says next to nothing about the songs of the far 
 North ; travellers, who may have dabbled with musical 
 knowledge, have given such unsatisfactory descriptions of 
 them, that we are more impressed with the meagreness of 
 their knowledge, than with the true spirit of the songs, 
 for none but gbod musicians can describe such things 
 correctly. The hunting and fishing songs of Russia, Cur- 
 liand, and Livonia, Norway, and Scotland, are the first that 
 lead us to draw some conclusion, as to a free indication of 
 character ; still more the dcmees, which are capable of more 
 outward expression than the songs, which demand inward 
 cultivation. This is why the Scotch, Russian, and Polish 
 dances are so beautiful, and so truly national, that they are 
 imitated, though clumsily enough, amongst aU cultivated 
 nations. But these very dances, so far as I thought them 
 genuine, were always set to minor keys, the best of them 
 anyhow. It is well known that the Russians and Poles 
 love dancing, and that they dance beautifully, with grace, 
 agility, and expression, showing much more dignity and 
 life, than one would ever suppose from their ordinary habits. 
 The Russian songs and dances which I have heard, were, 
 without exception, in minor keys, though at the same time 
 
56 gobthe's letters [1808. 
 
 very lively, consisting of numbers of quick notes and short 
 metres. Had these dances been in major keys, I should 
 have thought them extravagant and wild in their mirth ; 
 whereas in the minor key, they become serious, tender, 
 nay, yearning, whilst they seem to strain after cheerfulness, 
 wHch is hindered by a damp, cold atmosphere, and the use 
 of austere diet. 
 
 The genuine Polonaise inclines already to the South, a 
 more luxurious passion seems to awake in it 
 
 Now, if we pass at a bound, from the North to Italy, the 
 minor keys are found, especially in the best days of music, 
 only in temples and churches, where they were indispen- 
 sable, on account of the so-called Greek or Ecclesiastical 
 modes. In songs and dances, there prevails a light, flexible 
 melody, even in the expression of the fiercest passion, (with 
 few exceptions,) and in more recent times, the Italians 
 have gone so far, that to an air such as this : 
 
 Tn mi da me dividi, 
 Barbaro! tu m'uccidi! 
 Tutto il dolor ch'io sento, 
 Tutto mi vien da te. 
 
 Non son nelle selve Ircane 
 
 Tigre di te piu feroce. 
 
 the brightest melodies are set, to prevent the appearance of 
 anything doleful, and these airs are the most famous of all. 
 On the whole, the Opera Buffa is found in far greater per- 
 fection than the serious Opera, for which no better poems 
 yet exist, than those of Metastasio, Apostolo Zeno, and the 
 like. Tet in the Opera Buffa, minor keys are used to 
 heighten the comic situation, and, as it were, to bid defi- 
 ance to seriousness. 
 
 According to this, one might look for a minor key ten- 
 dency in Climate. Now, there stand the North-Germans 
 in the centre, straining laboriously towards every point of 
 the compass, in order to enrich their flat territory. They 
 learn to make everything, but, in the end, all that they long 
 for is a spice of something to fire the blood, and that they 
 call passion. It is another matter with shepherd-folk and 
 mountaineers. These seem to take their scales from their 
 bngle-homs, for they know no other instrument, so their 
 
1808.] TO ZELTEE. 57 
 
 songs and dances are either major or minor, as the horn 
 gives it out. Such a dance is the Scotch hornpipe, to the 
 following melody : — 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 ^ i j =P 
 
 i 
 
 — — & m — i — « « \—\ — 0- 
 
 f-f— pi=^ 
 
 This dance is in a major key, but I have met with Swiss 
 songs, also in minor keys, which for the moment have 
 escaped my memory. 
 
 As for music in Constantinople, I know as much as my 
 historians, i.e. nothing at all. An Oriental Emperor, Con- 
 stantine IX, surnamed Porphyrogenitus, made emperor at 
 seven years old, and poisoned in the year 959, is said to 
 have been a great musician. Then Nicolai * tells me, a 
 Greek Emperor, Oonstantinus, wrote a work in the tenth 
 century on the Court ceremonies at Constantinople, which 
 was printed at Leipzig in 1751, in two folio volumes of 
 Greek and Latin, and, according to him, must certainly be 
 in the Weimar Library. Perhaps this book may contain 
 something about music in Constantinople. Tou may pos- 
 sibly get further information in the Abbot Gerbert's Latin 
 work, De cantu et musicd sacra, which however I do not 
 possess. The same author also published a work, called, 
 Scriptores eaclesiastici de Miisicd sacra potissimum. Hx 
 variis Italice, Gallice, et Germanice codicibus manuscriptis col- 
 
 lecti 
 
 Yours, 
 Zelteb. 
 
 • Presumably "the Berlin Ariatarchus," author of a parody on Werther, 
 in which Werther shoots himself with chicken's blood, and marries 
 Charlotte afterwards. Goethe answered with a burlesque poem, called 
 Nkolai at Werthet's Grave. (See Lewes's Life of Goethe, p. 156.) 
 
58 gobthb's lettees [1808. 
 
 47. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Carlsbad, 22nd June, 1808. 
 TouE dear letter of the 6th of April did not reach me 
 till I got here. I at once sent back Eberwein's songs, and 
 afterwards, a copy of your obliging criticism. What a 
 ) good thing it would be for that young man, to study under 
 you for a good spell ! Just now, however, he is expe- 
 riencing the fate of all beginners ; they go astray like 
 sheep, and each takes his own line. 
 
 My best thanks for what you have said, to my comfort 
 and instruction, in reply to my questions ; only as to your 
 theoretical statements, which, as I well know, square with 
 the convictions of the physical and musical world, I have 
 something in my own way to remind you of. How I 
 should Hke to talk with yon on this subject, which is so 
 closely connected with others I am rtiminating upon ; 
 then some of the chief knots would surely be unravelled 
 for me. I enclose a sheet of paper, on which your state- 
 ment is repeated, followed by my doubts, objections, and 
 questions, in so far as I was able to concentrate my 
 thoughts upon so complicated a subject. As I have num- 
 bered the points of argument, and kept a copy of them, 
 you might, as a friend, answer each number separately, 
 and I should be able to keep your explanations, together 
 with my draft. 
 
 I have now been here since the 15th of May, and, for 
 the first fortnight, when we had most beautiful weather, 
 spent my time busily enough; after that, some pleasant 
 company arrived, bad weather set in, and my mode of 
 life changed. A third epoch is in prospect, fine weather 
 and a number of people, when once again, perhaps, I may 
 turn my solitary hours to profit. 
 
 I suppose you have not yet received your copy of my 
 last eight volumes ; but I hope, even though it comes 
 rather later, you will give it a kind welcome. The frag- 
 ments of an entire life-time, when placed in juxtaposition, 
 certainly present a strange and disjointed appearance, so 
 that reviewers find themselves in quite a peculiar dilemma, 
 when, either with good or evil intentions, they endeavour 
 
1808.] TO ZELTEE. 59 
 
 to treat what is printed together, as if it belonged together. 
 A friendly intelligence knows best, how to throw life into 
 these fragments. 
 
 If Voss's Sonnet is objectionable to yon, we are com- 
 pletely agreed npon that point likewise. We have had in 
 Germany several instances of very gifted men, losing them- 
 selves at last in pedantry, and it is the same in his case. 
 Prom sheer prosody, his poetry has entirely vanished. And 
 what is the meaning of persecuting with hate and rage an 
 individnal rhythmical form, — the Sonnet, for example? 
 when after all it is only a vessel, into which every one who 
 has brains, can pnt what he likes. How ridiculous it is, to 
 be for ever chewing the cud of that Sonnet of mine,* in 
 which I spoke rather unfavourably of Sonnets, to make a 
 party question of an aesthetic subject, and to drag me also 
 forth, as a member of a party, without considering, that 
 one may quite well jest and joke about a thing, without 
 despising or denouncing it on that account. 
 
 I hope therefore, that the accompanying poems of this 
 class will meet with all the better reception from you ; 
 only I urgently beseech you, not to let them out of your 
 hands. 
 
 I have nothing further to write to you from here, except 
 that I am in good health, and as industrious as I can be. 
 If the two first numbers of the Vienna Prometheiis have 
 reached you, you have, I daresay, bestowed a kindly glance on 
 my Pandora. In the fifth or sixth number, you will become 
 more intimately acquainted with that pretty child. Be 
 sure and read Friedrich Schlegel's article On the Language 
 and Wisdom of the Indians, and admire the way in which 
 he has contrived to weave in a perfectly crude Roman 
 Catholic confession of faith, with the grandest views of the 
 world, mankind, and the history of culture. This little 
 volume may thus be rfegarded, as a declaration of his having 
 joined the only saving Church.f All this hocus-pocus, 
 
 * This alludes to an epigram called Das Sonnet, published in 1806. 
 It is found at the head of the cycle called Epigrammatisch, and the last 
 six lines of it are directed against the Sonnet form, though Goethe 
 afterwards continued to write Sonnets himself. 
 
 ■j- In a previous letter, Zclter had spoken as follows, of Schlegel's 
 conversion to Koman Catholicism : " The only saving Church has 
 
60 Goethe's letters [1808. 
 
 however, whatever its eSect may be, will not help him in 
 the main. The true mode of thought is too -widely spread, 
 and is no longer in danger of being destroyed, however 
 much it may be modified by individual things. 
 
 A Simile as Postsceipt. 
 All the Arts, seeing that they could only work them- 
 selves upwards, by exercise and thought, practice and 
 theory, seem to me like towns, the ground and soil of 
 which, the foundations in fact, can no longer be made out. 
 Rocks have been blasted, and these same stones hewn into 
 shape, and made into houses. Caves were found very 
 convenient, and converted into cellars. Where the earth 
 gave way, it was intrenched and walled up ; perhaps by 
 the very side of the primary rock, a bottomless piece of 
 swamp was met with, where stakes and pile-work had to 
 be driven in ; when all is at last completed and made habi- 
 table, what part of it can be called Nature, and what, Art ? 
 Where is the foundation, and where are the accessories ? 
 Where the substance, where the form ? How difficult it 
 is then, to give reasons, if we would assert, that in the 
 earliest times, had they overlooked the whole at once, 
 all the arrangements might have been made more in ac- 
 cordance with the objects of Nature and of Art. If you 
 consider the piano, or organ, you might imagine you had 
 the town of my simile before you. Would to God I too 
 might for once pitch my tent by your side, and attain the 
 true enjoyment of life ! I should then be heartily glad to 
 forget all questions about Nature and Ai-t, theory and 
 practice. 
 
 1. You say — " The minor key is distinguished from the 
 major, by the minor third." 
 
 Is it not also distinguished, by diminishing or narrowing 
 the other intervals ? 
 
 2. " Which takes the place of the major third." 
 
 This expression can only hold good, if we start from the 
 major key. A theorist of Northern nationality, when 
 
 caught a good fish in him, but I am annoyed about it, because I once 
 had a considerable opinion of him." 
 
1808.] TO ZELTEE. 61 
 
 speaking of the minor tones, might as well say, that the 
 major third takes the place of the minor third. 
 
 3. " Our present diatonic (natural) scale." 
 
 That the diatonic scale should be the only natural one — 
 it is against this, that my opposition is properly directed. 
 
 4. " Originates in the way the string is divided. If it 
 were divided in half," &o., &c. 
 
 That the division of the string into different parts should 
 produce sounds harmonious to the ear, is a very pretty 
 experiment, which might even be made the foundation of a 
 certain scale ; but, if it cannot be accomplished in this way, 
 might it not be possible in some other manner ? 
 
 5. " The string may, however, be divided into as many 
 parts as you please, and yet this will never produce a 
 minor third, although by so doing, you can always get 
 nearer to it." 
 
 Tou ask too much of an experiment, when you require 
 it to do everything. Was not electricity at first produced 
 only by friction, whereas its grandest manifestations are 
 now produced by mere touch. Our aim should be an 
 experiment, by which one could represent the minor tones 
 also as original. 
 
 6. "Accordingly, this minor third is no immediate donum 
 of nature, but a work of more recent art." 
 
 I deny the conclusion, as I~do not admit the premises. 
 
 7. "And it must be regarded as a diminished major 
 third." 
 
 This is a subterfuge, of which theorists usually avail 
 themselves, when they have established something which 
 restricts Nature : for they are then obliged to recall and 
 annihilate what they formerly maintained, in a very para- 
 doxical fashion. If a major third is an interval which Nature 
 gives us, how can we diminish it, without destroying it ? 
 How much and how little can it be diminished, and not be 
 a major third, and still be a third ? And, generally, at 
 what point would it cease to be still a third ? My 
 imaginary Northern theorist might quite as justly affirm, 
 that the major third is an augmented minor. 
 
 8. " And so — even by the strictest composers — it has 
 been treated as a consonant interval." 
 
 "We have an evident instance here, of what so often 
 
62 Goethe's letters [1808. 
 
 happens both in Art and in techmque, that the practical 
 sense knows very well, how to save itself from theoretical 
 limitation, without making much fuss about it. 
 
 9. " That is — it may, like the major third, be introduced 
 everywhere, freely and without preparation, which, in a pure 
 style, is not allowed to any dissonance." 
 
 " If it is treated as a consonant interval, it is consonant, 
 for such things cannot be estabhshed at first hand by 
 convention. If it may be introduced freely and without 
 preparation, then it is no dissonance ; it is by nature har- 
 monious, and so also is everything which springs from it." 
 
 Here intervenes a very remarkable consideration, in 
 respect of all physical inquiry, — one which has been already 
 touched upon before. Man in himself, in so far as he 
 makes use of his sound senses, is the greatest and most 
 perfect physical apparatus that there can be. And it is, in 
 fact, the greatest evil of the more modern physics, that 
 experiments are, as it were, separated from man himself, 
 and that Nature is recognized only in that which artificial 
 instruments demonstrate — nay, they want to prove and 
 limit her capability by these. It is precisely the same 
 with calculation. There is much that is true, that will not 
 admit of being computed, just as there is a great deal that 
 cannot be brought to the test of definite experiment. On 
 the other hand, however, man stands so high, that what 
 otherwise defies representation, finds its representation in 
 him. What then is a string and all its mechanical divi- 
 sions, compared with the ear of the musician ? Nay, it 
 may be said, what are the elementary phenomena of Nature 
 herself, compared with man, who has first to control and 
 modify them all, before he can in any way assimilate them 
 to himself. However, I do not intend to lose myself in 
 these considerations just now ; I shall take an early oppor- 
 tunity of speaking of this again, as well as of asking you 
 for further information on a few other points. 
 
 48. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 30th October, 1808. 
 Accept my best thanks, dear Friend, for all that 
 you are doing, and all you mean to do for young Eberwein. 
 
1808.] TO ZELTER. 63 
 
 The world of Art has certainly gone too much to the bad, 
 for a young man to perceive so easily, upon what things 
 depend. They always look for something in some quarter, 
 other than that whence it proceeds ; and even if they once 
 catch a glimpse of the source, they are unable to find their 
 way to it. 
 
 For this reason, some half-dozen of our younger poets 
 put me into a state of despair ; in spite of their extra- 
 ordinary natural gifts, they will scarcely manage to write 
 much that I can like. Werner, Oehlenschlager, Arnim, 
 Brentano, and others work and toil away ; but all they 
 produce is absolutely wanting in form and character. No 
 one will understand, that the highest and sole operation 
 of Nature and of Art is Formation, (Oestaltung,') and in 
 Form, Specification, so that each thing may be and remain 
 something special, something significant. It is not Art, to 
 allow one's talent to act capricioasly, according to one's 
 individual convenience ; something should always arise out 
 of it, as from the scattered seed of Vulcan, there arose a 
 marvellous serpent-boy. 
 
 It is very bad, at the same time, that the Humoristic, 
 owing to its not possessing any solidity or law in itself, 
 degenerates sooner or later into melancholy and morose- 
 ness ; we have the most frightful examples of this in Jean 
 Paul, (see his last production in the Damenkalender,) and 
 in Gorres, (see his Schriftproben.) * 
 
 However, there are always plenty of people who marvel 
 at and glorify such things, for the public is ready to thank 
 anyone, who tries to turn its head. 
 
 Have the kindness, dear friend, whenever you have a 
 quarter of an hour to spare, to give me a brief sketch of 
 the errors of young musicians : I should like to compare 
 them with the blunders made by painters, for one must, 
 once for all, calm oneseK about these matters, denounce 
 the whole system, not think about the culture of others, 
 and devote the short time that remains, to one's own works. 
 
 But while expressing myself in so ungracious a manner 
 upon these points, I must nevertheless, as good-natured 
 
 * A publication issued by Gorres in 1808, at Heidelberg, under the 
 pseudonym of Peter Hammer. 
 
64 Goethe's lbttees [1808. 
 
 grnmblers are wont to do, at once recall my words, and 
 beg of you to oontinne devoting your attention to 
 Eberwein, at all events till Easter, as I shall send him 
 back to you again. He feels great confidence in you, and 
 great respect for your Institute ; but even this, un- 
 fortunately, does not mean very much with young men, 
 for secretly, they still think that what is extraordinary 
 may just as well be produced in their own silly manner. 
 A good many men have an idea of the goal, only they would 
 like to reach it, by sauntering along on labyrinthine ways. 
 
 Tou will have been more than enough reminded of us 
 this month, by the newspapers. It was worth a good 
 deal, to be a personal witness of these events. I too have 
 experienced a favourable influence from such a strange 
 constellation. The Emperor of France was very gracious 
 to me.* Both Emperors presented me with stars and 
 ribbons, which therefore, we, in all modesty, gratefully 
 acknowledge. 
 
 How much I wish, that you and your fellow-citizens 
 might likewise find comfort and tranquillity in this epoch, 
 for your sufferings have hitherto gone beyond the limit of 
 what is bearable. Tou are then, it seems, still personally 
 engaged in public affairs ? Write and tell me in what 
 way. My kind regards to Herr Greheimrath Wolf ; we 
 expect to have his little daughter with us soon. 
 
 Pardon me for not writing at greater length, about the 
 latest events. Ton will be astonished, I know, on reading 
 the newspapers, that this flood of the mighty and the 
 great ones of the earth has rolled as far as Weimar, and 
 on to the battle-field of Jena. I, cannot refrain from 
 enclosing a remarkable engraving. The point where the 
 Temple stands, is the farthest point, reached this time by 
 Napoleon, towards the North-East. If yon pay us a visit, 
 (which Heaven grant you may !) I will place you on the 
 very spot, w];iere the Httle man here, is pointing to the 
 world with his stick. 
 
 No more to-day, I have so many debts in the way of 
 letters, that I do not know where to begin cancelling them. 
 
 * For Napoleon's conversations with Goethe in October, 1808, see 
 DUntzer'e Life of Goethe, vol. ii., pp. 266, 267, (in Lyster's translation.) 
 
1808.] TO ZELTBR. 65 
 
 49. — Zeltee to Goethb. 
 
 Berlin, 12th November, 1808. 
 .... What you say in your letter about Specifi- 
 cation of Formation, Form and Character, is perhaps truer, 
 of music, (anyhow.they are more difficult of attainment in 
 music), than of the imitative, arts. For each of the poetic 
 spirits named by you, I could name a musical counterpart, 
 and so confirm your judgment : one sees with admiration 
 and terror, false lights and streaks of blood on the horizon 
 of Parnassus. Men so brilliantly gifted as Oherubini, 
 Beethoven, and several others, steal the club of Hercules — 
 to smash flies with ; at first one marvels, and then directly 
 afterwards, one shrugs one's shoulders at the amount of 
 talent wasted, in making trifles important and lofty methods 
 common. I really could despair, when it occurs to me 
 that the new music Ttmst perish, if an art is to come out 
 of music. 
 
 No art can exercise a beneficent influence, which wanders 
 about in endless space, shameless and shapeless, like the 
 more modern music, laying bare isolated fragments of its 
 highest and most secret charms, to the public gaze of the 
 common and vulgar, like an anatomical . cabinet, or a col- 
 lection of anecdotes about love-secrets, and over-satiating 
 common curiosity. Let people object as they will, to the 
 composers of earlier centuries, (for who has not got to 
 learn more than he knows ?) they never threw art away, 
 nor exposed the inner Sanctum ; had we contrived to build 
 on their foundation, we might have an art, and we should 
 be very different people in our own estimation. 
 
 60. — Zbltek to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th December, 1808. 
 .... In honour of the King's return, I have insti- 
 tuted a Liedertafel — a society, formed of twenty-five men, 
 the twenty-fifth of whom is chosen Master ; it assembles 
 once a month, at a supper of two courses, enlivened by 
 jovial German songs. The members must be either poets, 
 
 V 
 
66 goethe's litters [1808. 
 
 singers, or composers. The writer or composer of a new 
 song, reads or sings, or has it sung before the whole table. 
 If it is applauded, a box is passed round the table, into 
 which everyone, (if he likes the song,) puts a grosehen, or 
 two, as he pleases. The money is counted out on the table; 
 if it comes to so much, that a silver medal, of the value of 
 a good Thaler can be purchased with it, the Master hands 
 over the medal to the winner, in the name of the Liedertafel, 
 they drink the health of the poet or composer, and discuss 
 the beauty of the song. If a member can show twelve silver 
 medals, he has a supper at the expense of the community, 
 he is crowned with a wreath, he can ask for any kind of 
 wine he chooses, and is presented with a gold medal, worth 
 five-and-twenty Thalers. All other arrangements are men- 
 tioned in the plan, which is just now being put into circu- 
 lation. Anyone blurting out words, that are compromising 
 or offensive, to a single member, or to the whole body, pays 
 a forfeit. Satirical verses on individuals are not sung; 
 everyone has full liberty to be himself, provided only that 
 he is liberal. We only permit twelve rules ; there may be 
 fewer, not more. Now, do give me a sketch for a pretty 
 scroll, rather a big one, with the word " Welcome " on 
 it, — and one for a small, and one for a gold medal ; I must 
 press you in the matter, for we must strike when the iron 
 is hot. The members are all enthusiastic, and can hardly 
 
 wait for the King's arrival 
 
 We are just now expecting here the Roman Humboldt,* 
 who has become Staatsrath des Gultus der Akademien und 
 Theater. If he is still the same man that he was, before 
 he went to Italy, I shall be very glad of him. Here, whiol;.- 
 ever way things tend, he may do good service, for in these 
 matters, we have long led a sinful life 
 
 • 2. 
 
 • Karl Wilhelm, Freihsrr von Humboldt. 
 
1809,] TO ZKLTER, 67 
 
 1809. 
 
 51. — Goethe to Zeltek. 
 
 Jena, Ist June, 1809. 
 .... I ENCLOSE a small poem ; * perhaps you may 
 yourself be inclined to accompany it with the nece.ssary 
 musical declamation ; or perhaps you will give it to Eber- 
 wein, to try his hand on. I was induced to write it by 
 the good people of the Lauchstadt district, who, in an all- 
 devonring age, wished to preserve the memory of a pure 
 act of humanity. 
 
 As it was not yet advisable for me to go to Carlsbad, I 
 have come to Jena, where I am trying to finish a novel, f 
 which I sketched and began a year ago, among the Bohe- 
 mian mountains. It will probably come out this year, and 
 I am all the more anxious to hurry on with the work, as it 
 will be a means of thoroughly re-establishing an intercourse 
 with my friends at a distance. I hope you will think it is 
 in my old way and manner. I have stored away much in 
 it, hidden many things in it; may this open secret give 
 you also pleasure ! 
 
 Since Eberwein left, and all the actors took to quarrelling, 
 I have kept rather aloof from music. I hope in future to 
 have all the more enjoyment of it through him — echoes 
 from your heaven, which, alas ! I am destined never to 
 enter, a thought which often grieves me. In these warlike 
 days, we see for the first time, how clumsily and awkwardly 
 we behaved in times of peace. Let the little Ballad — when 
 you have set it to music — be as widely known as you like, 
 and do not leave me too long, without a word of en- 
 couragement. Unfortunately I have spent this winter 
 with very little joy or profit. Since the spring, I have 
 again begun revising my Fwrbenlehre, and am having it 
 
 • The dramatic Ballad, Johanna Sebtis, 
 t Die Wahlverwandtsohaften. 
 
68 goethb's lettees [1809. 
 
 printed ; in my own story, I have got to the end of the 
 
 seventeenth centnry, and, taking it altogether, am close upon 
 
 , the sixtieth sheet. It is a strange thing, to see on paper so 
 
 J large a mass of one's own, and other people's life, and yet 
 
 it seems not worth the reading. What has been written, 
 
 as well as what has been actually done, shrivels up and 
 
 does not become worth anything, till it has again been 
 
 taken up into life, again been felt, thought, and acted upon. 
 
 Herr Hirt has sent me his great work upon Architecture. 
 
 I am highly delighted to see so important a task, one that 
 
 has taken over twenty years to accomplish, successfully 
 
 finished at last. 
 
 Farewell, and remember me ! 
 
 a. 
 
 52. — Goethe to Zeltek. 
 
 Weimar, 30th October, 1809. 
 In place of reiterated thanks, I send you to-day 
 nothing but a friendly greeting, by one who is about to 
 leave us, Herr Lorzing, a brother of our actor. I have 
 followed you to Konigsberg with my thoughts and wishes, 
 though they only referred to your own welfare. The fools 
 of Germans are still for ever bawling against egotism, 
 would to Heaven, they had long ago honestly looked after 
 themselves and their belongings, and then again, after those 
 nearest, and again nearest to them ! then perhaps everything 
 might have looked different. Now, we will not allow our- 
 selves to be led astray, but wiU keep to the old road. 
 
 Anyhow, I am still continuing my own way in Weimar 
 and Jena ; two tiny places, which God has still preserved 
 to US, though the noble Prussians would, not long since, 
 have Uked, in more than one way, to destroy them. A 
 thousand thanks for having again done all you could for 
 our edification, in training a good fellow, and returning 
 him to us, as a helpful brother-citizen. Though I know 
 but few details, I can nevertheless, in my own way, see 
 into your whole life, i.e. the life of your State, and its 
 prospects and hopes ; and so I certainly wish, that so noble 
 and dear a friend may, after so many trials, be blessed at 
 least with better prospects. If I had a clear idea of your 
 
1809.] TO ZELTER. 69 
 
 sphere of activity, your deeds and actions, I might be more 
 easy in my mind about your circumstances : for, at a 
 distance, one usually sees only what is wanting, and what is 
 missing. Hope and fear are two hollow entities. 
 
 With these few words you will receive my novel. Do 
 as if the greater part had been dedicated to you, and for 
 the rest, pardon my silence and stagnation. It is getting 
 almost impossible to speak to an individual about indi- 
 vidual things. But if one could grasp broader relation- 
 ships, one might still, I suppose, represent and express 
 much. 
 
 No more to-day ! the turnips arrived safely. Our thanks 
 shall be renewed for every fresh dishful. 
 
 53. — GOETHB TO ZeLTER. 
 
 Weimar, 21st December, 1809. 
 I EEALLT forget when and what I last wrote to you ; 
 for with me, the days perform the valuable service of a 
 sponge, as they wash the immediate past clean out from 
 my memory. My feeling remains intact, and this tells me 
 that I am indebted to you for all sorts of things. When 
 I remember this, I think first of those delicious turnips, 
 which it would be hard indeed for me to forget, because, 
 before I am aware of it, there they are on the table again, 
 as good as ever ! On Thursdays and Sundays, Eberwein 
 lets us hear much of the music he has brought back with 
 him, and whatever he can impart to us, on the strength of 
 what you have sent us with your benediction. Schiller's 
 things have been most admirably conceived. The music 
 supplements them, for really no song is perfect, until it 
 has been set to music. Here, however, there is something 
 quite peculiar. The meditative or meditated enthusiasm 
 is now for the first time raised, or I should rather say, 
 melted into the free and lovely element of sensuousness. 
 One thinks and feels, and is carried away by it. 
 
 Tou can also imagine that the mirthful pieces do not 
 fail to produce their effect, as I have more affection for 
 such things, and in fact everybody is glad to be, or to be 
 made, merry 
 
70 gobthe's letters [1809. 
 
 During these ■winter months, I am working as busily 
 as I can, in order to be rid of my work on Colours ; after 
 that, however, I intend to turn my back, even upon the 
 rainbow, which will, in any case, through this malicious 
 attitude, be annihilated for my individual self. With the 
 first breath of Spring, I shall go to Carlsbad, intending, 
 if possible, to live there in my old way. 
 
 Write and tell me something, when you have the oppor- 
 tunity, about yourself; and send me something pleasant. 
 It is true, we have plenty of the old, the unfathomed, but 
 after all, the immediate moment is the most charming. 
 
 G. 
 
1810.] TO ZELTEE. 71 
 
 1810. 
 
 64. — ZlLTEB TO GOETHS. 
 
 Berlin, 17th February, 1810. 
 
 .... It is our custom to print the words of songs, 
 which we sing on high days and holidays at the Liedertafel, 
 As I look upon your song * as our property, I shall allow 
 it to be printed with the rest, unless you expressly forbid 
 it ; pleaee therefore, if you do not wish it, let me know in 
 
 the course of the month 
 
 Z. 
 
 55. — Goethe to Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 6th March, 1810. 
 TouB music to Johanna Sebva I have, to be sure, 
 only heard as yet imperfectly, but sufficiently for me to 
 assure you, that I think it quite excellent. I should have 
 to be very discursive, were I to try and tell you of every- 
 thing that flitted through my mind on this occasion. Only 
 one thing I will say, — that you have made very important 
 use of something for which I have no name, but which 
 is called imitation, painting, and I know not what besides, 
 — something which becomes very defective in others, and 
 degenerates into incongruity. 
 
 It is a kind of symbolism for the ear, whereby the subject, 
 in so far as it is in motion, or not in motion, is neither 
 imitated nor painted, but produced in the imagination, in a 
 way, that is quite peculiar, and impossible to grasp, inas- 
 much as the thing described and the describer appear to 
 stand in scarcely any sort of relation to one another. 
 
 It is a matter'of course that in music, thunder can roll, 
 and waves roar quite naturally. But it is surprising, how 
 
 * The song is now called Bechenschaft, but see the following letter. 
 
72 goethe's letters [1810. 
 
 well you have expressed the negation, Kein Bamm, Kein 
 Feld, by a disjointed, interrupted execution, as also the 
 anticipation of delight before the passage, doch Suschen's 
 Bild. Do not let me ramble on, as I should have to speak 
 of the whole, as well as the details. I hope soon to hear it 
 again and again, and to enjoy it thoroughly, which is better 
 than reflection and criticism. Tour corrections arrived 
 safely, and have been inserted. 
 
 As for the song, it might be called Duty cmd Pleaswre, 
 (Pflioht vmd Frohdnn.) Go' on' as you are, and as often as 
 it is sung, let some genial fellow insert a new verse, or sing 
 it, instead of some other one. I have not yet heard the 
 melody ; latterly, I "have really had too much stress put 
 upon me, from all quarters. 
 
 Now good-bye, and let me have Voss's Trommellied, for 
 Bberwein did not bring it with him. Our little Society 
 gave a musical entei-tainment the other day, in the Theatre, 
 when your In Flammen nahet Gott, and the Ghmst des 
 Augerblicks, and other things, were most effective. 
 
 56. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 4th April, 1810. 
 For some weeks past, I have not been up to my 
 usual mark ; perhaps it was the withering March wind, or 
 some other outside influence, that made me, not exactly ill, 
 but low, and out of spirits. I eat without relish, and instead 
 of feeling glad to be alive, am rather the reverse. 
 
 So yesterday afternoon I took no wine, as I did not 
 want it, and went to sleep after dinner on the sofa. Mean- 
 time my sensible letter-carrier laid your blue envelope on 
 my breast, and I joyfully recognized it on awaking. Before 
 I broke the seal, I called for a glass of wine, that I might 
 be as jolly as possible. As my daughter was pouring it out, 
 I broke open the letter, and shouted, " Br go hibwmus ! " The 
 child started, so that she let the bottle fall ; I caught it up, 
 — once more I was bright and cheery, and the wine, from 
 gratitude for its salvation probably, did its part. 
 
 That the first impression might not ebb away, I sent for 
 pen and ink, so as to set your poem to music there and 
 
1810.] TO ZILTEB. 73 
 
 then. Looking at the clock, I found it was time to go to 
 the Singakademie, after which, to-day, there was a meeting 
 of the Liedertafel. Forty members were present. I read 
 the poem aloud ; at the end of each strophe, they one and 
 all shouted of their own accord in unison, as though in a 
 double chorus, " Bibamus ! " laying such portentous stress 
 on the long vowel, that the floors rang again, and the vault 
 of the great hall seemed to shake. This gave me the 
 melody at once, and here you have it, just as it composed 
 itself ; if it is the right thing, I claim no part in it, it is 
 
 all yours, and yours alone 
 
 Z. 
 
 67. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, ISth November, 1810. 
 
 .... At the end of this week, we are to hear 
 
 Paer's * Achilles in Italian ; Brizzi has arrived, and will 
 
 act the hero for us. Our other singers are either practising 
 
 their Italian, or beginning to learn the language ; come 
 
 what may, we shall have a pretty performance 
 
 In conclusion, let me tell you of a curious enterprise 
 we have in prospect, that is, a performance of Faust, in 
 his present condition, as far as it is practicable. Perhaps 
 you could help us with some music, more especially for 
 the Easter Song and the Slumber Song, Sohwindet ihr 
 
 duriklen Wolbungen drdben 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 * Ferdinando Paer, an Italian composer, and one of the leading 
 representatives of the Italian operatic school, at the close of the last 
 century. He was at one time Maltre-de-chapelle to Napoleon, whom 
 he had accompanied to Warsaw and Posen in 1806. The svibject of one 
 of his operas, Eleanora, ossia I'Amore Ccmjvgale, was the same as that 
 of Beethoven's Fidelia. 
 
74 gobthb's lbttees [1811. 
 
 1811. 
 
 58. — Goethe to^Zbltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 28th February, 1811. 
 I HATE read of tte illustrious Oldenburg, first 
 Secretary of the London Society, that he never opens a 
 letter, till he has placed pen, ink, and paper before him, but 
 thereupon he writes his answer, immediately after the first 
 reading. And thus, it seems, he gets through an immense 
 amount of correspondence in comfort. Could I have imi- 
 tated this virtue, fewer people would have had to complain 
 of my silence. But now the arrival of your dear letter, 
 recalling all the wealth of our summer life, excites in me 
 such a desire to answer it, that I address these lines to you, 
 if not indeed at the first reading, at all events, on my 
 awakening, the morning after. 
 
 First then, I pity you for being obliged to write, when 
 you ought to be doing and working. But business-matters, 
 all the world over, and especially with you, have long been 
 transacted on paper, and business-people do not reflect that 
 acts, (derived from the Latin acta,) mean as much as 
 something done, and that therefore nothing should be 
 stitched up in them, which we are only about to do, or 
 wish to do. If I still amuse myself sometimes by stitching 
 together a fasciculus, it is only when I am occupied with a 
 tlung that is hastening to its end. 
 
 I thought I could prophesy, that the good Pandora would 
 linger a little, when she got home again. The life in 
 Toplitz was much too favourable for this task, and your 
 thoughts were so continuously and thoroughly occupied 
 with it, t^at an interruption must necessarily cause a 
 standstill also. But do not be disheartened ; so much has 
 already been done to it, that the rest will doubtless come 
 of itself in good time. 
 
 I cannot quarrel with you, for declining to compose the 
 music to FoAist. My proposal was rather frivolous, like 
 
1811.] TO ZELTER. 75 
 
 the undertaking itself. So this too may be set aside for 
 yet another year, for the trouble I have had in managing 
 The Constant Prince, has pretty ■well exhausted the zest, 
 which one must bring to such things. This piece has 
 certainly turned out well, beyond aU expectation, and has 
 given myself and others much pleasure. It means a good 
 deal, to have conjured up a work, nearly two centuries old, 
 one written for quite another latitude, for a race of perfectly 
 different manners, religion, and culture, so that it should 
 appear fresh and new to a spectator. Tor nowhere is the 
 antiquated, or that which does not speak to one directly, 
 more quickly felt, than on the stage. 
 
 As for my works, you shall certainly have the thirteenth 
 volume, both in vellum and in the ordinary binding. Ton 
 have done well, in throwing a sprat to catch a salmon. 
 Another copy will soon be found for you. 
 
 It is very good of you, not to have neglected my F(w- 
 henleh'e; taken ia small doses, it will have a very good 
 effect. I know very well, that my way of treating the 
 subject, natural as it is, is very different from the usual 
 method, and I cannot expect, that everyone should imme- 
 diately recognize and adopt its advantages. Mathematicians 
 are foolish people, and so far from possessing even a notion 
 of the main point, that one has to be indulgent to their 
 conceit. I am very curious to see, who will be the first to 
 understand the thing, and behave honestly about it : for 
 they are not all wooden-headed, nor aU maliciously inclined. 
 Moreover, I have, in this instance, become more and more 
 conscious of the fact, which I had quietly recognized long 
 ago, that the training given to the mind by mathematics 
 is extremely one-sided and limited. Voltaire even ventures 
 to say somewhere, " J'ai toiyou/rs rema/rque que la Geometrie 
 laisse I'esprit <m elle le trouve." Franklin also has a peculiar 
 aversion to mathematicians, and expresses this plainly and 
 clearly, in reference to social intercourse, when he speaks 
 of their spirit of littleness and contradiction, as being 
 intolerable. 
 
 As regards the actual Newtonians, they are like the old 
 Prussians, in October, 1806. They thought they might 
 yet win by tactics, although they had long been vanquished 
 by strategy. When once their eyes are opened, they will 
 
76 goithe's letters [1811. 
 
 be surprised to see, that I have already been to Nanmburg 
 and Leipzig, while they are still rummaging about, in the 
 vicinity of Weimar and Blankenhayn. That battle was 
 Jost beforehand, and it is the same here too. That doctrine 
 is already extinguished, though these gentlemen still think 
 they may despise their adversary. Pardon my big way of 
 talking ; I am as little ashamed of it, as those gentlemen 
 are of their littleness. 
 
 I have been most strangely misconstrued by Kiigelgen,* 
 as by many others. I thought I spoke most kindly to 
 him ; for the picture and the frame really turned out all 
 that could be desired, and now the good man takes offence 
 at an outward form of politeness, which, after all, we cer- 
 tainly ought not to neglect, as many people feel hurt, if 
 it is not used. People have often been annoyed with me, 
 for a certain heedlessness in these things, and now I am 
 vexing good men by my formality. Never lay aside any 
 old fault,, dear friend, for. either you will fall into some 
 new one, or your new virtue will be regarded as a fault ; 
 and take up what position you please, you will never satisfy 
 yourself, or other people. However, I am glad to know 
 this, for I should like to be on friendly terms with this 
 excellent man. 
 
 As for the antique ball,t I propose that you should pack 
 it carefully, in a strong box, and send it to me for in- 
 spection. There were many replicas of such things in old 
 times, and the copies differ very much in value. Herr 
 Friedlander, .(to whom my kindest regards,) might tell me 
 at the same time about his collections, and how one could 
 serve him in return, for it would be difficult to give a good 
 bronze in exchange, as there are hardly any duplicates of 
 such things, and such as do exist, become doubly in- 
 teresting, on account of their resemblance or non-resem- 
 blance. In the meantime, I could offer him this. I have 
 a very fine collection of medals, the greater part in bronze, 
 dating from the middle of the fifteenth century, up to the 
 present day. It was made, chiefly in order to bring before 
 friends and connoisseurs, the course pursued in Plastic 
 
 * The painter, Kiigelgen, had complained to Zeltev, of Goethe's cold- 
 ness, in addressing him as Hochwohlgebomer Herr. 
 
 t The property of David Friedlander, a Jewish friend of Zelter's. 
 
1811.] TO ZILTEE. 77 
 
 Art, the reflex of which can always be traced in med'als. 
 Now, I have some beautiful and important duplicates of 
 these, so that I probably could arrange and hand over an 
 instructive series. Any amateur, not yet in possession of 
 anything of the kind, would thus obtain a good foundation, 
 and have sufficient inducement to proceed further. A 
 collection of this kind would likewise ofEer a good oppor- 
 tunity for very interesting observations, as in the case of 
 a series of Greek and Roman coins ; nay, more — it would 
 complete the idea, which these give us, and would enable 
 us to trace it up to more modem times. Let me add, 
 that the bull must be very perfect, if I am not to be the 
 loser by the exchange proposed. Let me hear some further 
 particulars. 
 
 As I have plenty more room in my letter, I will add, 
 that I have been highly gratified lately by a present from 
 the Empress of Austria, of a handsome gold snuff-box, with 
 a wreath of brilliants in the centre, on which stands the 
 name Louise in full. I know you will be interested in this, 
 as so unexpected and inspiriting a piece of luck is no 
 every-day occurrence. Now farewell, dear Sun, and con- 
 tinue to give forth warmth and light.* 
 
 G. 
 SicjUAN Song. 
 
 Ye black and roguish ej'es, 
 
 If ye command, 
 Each house in ruins lies, 
 
 No town can stand. 
 And shall my bosom's chain, — 
 
 This plaster wall, — 
 Xo think one moment, deign, — 
 
 Shall it not fall ? 
 
 Finnish Sosg. 
 
 Ip the loved one, the well-known one. 
 
 Should return as he departed. 
 
 On his lips would ring my kisses. 
 
 Though the wolf's blood might have dyed them ; 
 
 And a hearty grasp I'd give him, 
 
 Though his finger-ends were serpents. 
 
 • In this letter are enclosed three songs, Sicilian, Finnish, and 
 Swiss, copied by P. W. Kiemer. 
 
78 GOETHE'S LETTEES [1811. 
 
 Wind ! Oh, if thou hadst but reason, 
 Word for word in turns thou'dst carry. 
 E'en though some perchance might perish 
 'Tween two lovers so far distant. 
 
 All choice morsels I'd dispense with, 
 Table-flesh of priests neglect too, 
 Sooner than renounce my lover, 
 Whom, in Summer having vanquish'd, 
 I in Winter tam'd still longer. 
 
 Swiss Song. 
 
 Up in th' mountain 
 I was a-sitting. 
 With the bird there 
 As my guest, 
 Blithely singing, 
 Blithely springing. 
 And building 
 His nest. 
 
 In the garden 
 I was a-standing, 
 And the bee there 
 Saw as well. 
 Buzzing, humming. 
 Going, coming. 
 And building 
 His cell. 
 
 O'er the meadow 
 I was a-going, 
 And there saw the 
 Butterflies, 
 Sipping, dancing, 
 Flying, glancing, 
 And charming 
 The eyes. 
 
 And then came my 
 Dear Hansel, 
 And I show'd them 
 With glee, 
 Sipping, quaffing, 
 And he, laughing, 
 Sweet kisses 
 Gave me. 
 
 (E. A. BowBiNS. 
 
1811.] to zeltee. 79 
 
 59. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Undated. 
 .... At last I too have seen and heard the newly- 
 crowned Parisian Opera, Die Vestalin.* It is a downright 
 good joke, for the gentlemen of the Paris Conservatoire, 
 who could not make up their minds, to which of two 
 excellent people they should award the prize, because they 
 really have no critical standard, and trilling and chirping 
 is all they are up to, are forced to see the Emperor putting 
 his finger into the pie, and giving a pHze to a* young 
 artist, who, when he is once past twenty-five, will never do 
 anything much. The libretto is loosely enough constructed, 
 for an Opera, and there is room for music. Herr Spontini 
 has used it like a boy, whose hands have just been set free 
 from swaddling-bands for the first time, and he lays about 
 him with both fists, so violently, that the pieces fly about 
 one's ears. 
 
 Bettina f wanted to be married last Sunday week. But 
 both parties had forgotten a few trifles, e.g. the calling of 
 the banns, the hiring of lodgings, and similar preparations. 
 I fancy, therefore, the affair must remain in statu quo, until 
 after Lent. 
 
 Z. 
 
 60. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 18 th March, 1811. 
 A THOTTSAND thauks, my dear Friend, for your sug- 
 gestion, that that Bull should be sent off to me. It has 
 latterly stimulated me and my circle to 'new thoughts on 
 Art, and I only wish I could sum them all up again with 
 you. If Herr Priedlander tells you what I wrote to him, 
 you will see that my first suspicion, in calling this creature 
 
 * This famous Opera, finished by Spontini in 1805, long remained a 
 favourite with the Parisians, having, by the year 1824, reached its two 
 hundredth performance. Napoleon had founded a prize, to be given 
 every ten years, for the most successful Opera, written within tliat 
 period. This was the prize won by Spontini. 
 
 + Bettina married the Baron von Amim, 
 
80 gobthb's lettbes [1811. 
 
 of Art a Tragelaph (Goat-Stag) of ancient and modem 
 times, lias been confirmed. I should have had to be much 
 more prolix, had I wished to go to the root of the matter, 
 and to say everything that forces itself into consideration 
 in this instance. A small box of interesting bronze medals 
 has been sent to Herr Priedlander, and, as his son is a 
 collector and a connoisseur, I hope it will be favourably 
 received. 
 
 I am very sorry for Herr Weiss' own sake, that he has 
 taken to storming against my Farbenlehre ; impotent hate 
 is the most horrible of feelings, for, properly speaking, we 
 should hate no one whom we cannot annihilate. But as I 
 am — above all things — fond of genetic observations, I will 
 explain to you, whence this worthy man's indignation has 
 really arisen. See my Farbenlehre, I. Polem. § 422. I 
 will here quote the passage, for the sake of convenience : — 
 
 " We anticipate here an observation, which properly be- 
 longs to the history of the Farbenlehre. Hauy, in his manual 
 on Physics, repeats the above assertion, with Newton's de- 
 cisive words ; but the German translator is compelled to add 
 in a note, ' I shall take occasion to say further on, to which 
 kinds of light of the Colour-spectrum, as tested by my own 
 experiments, this actually applies, and to which it does not.' 
 This then, on the absolute assertion of which the correctness 
 of the Newtonian theory alone depends, holds good, and 
 does not hold good. Hauy expresses unconditionally the 
 Newtonian theory, and accordingly, in the lectures of the 
 ,Lycees, it is unconditionaEy impressed upon the mind of 
 every young Frenchman. The German must come for- 
 ward with conditions, and yet the theory, which is at once 
 destroyed through conditions, continues to be the one that 
 holds good; it is 'printed, translated, and the public, for 
 the thousandth time, has to pay for these myths." 
 
 Now the translator is, in fact, Herr Weiss himself, whom 
 I did not mention by name in the quoted passage, because 
 I knew how to value him as a man, who spared himself no 
 trouble, and inspired good hopes, and whose books I had 
 been able to make good use of. I am, as I said before, 
 sorry for him ; for when anyone who devotes himself to 
 the study of Nature, and is still vigorous mentally, refuses 
 to acknowledge, what I have more or less achieved in my 
 
1811.J TO ZBLTER. 81 
 
 Fa/rbenlehre, he ■will find, nevertlieless, that it will often 
 come home to him, and he does not gain by it morally ; he 
 will be standing in his own light, and spite of this, he will, 
 in the end, be obliged — for his own purposes — to make use 
 of what he learns from me, and to disavow the source, 
 from whence he got it. However, such tergiversations and 
 malversations are met with so frequently in the history of 
 the sciences, that it would create astonishment, if they did 
 not repeat themselves in our own times. 
 
 May you succeed in every way, in all you do, and in all 
 you write ! I see, as in a picture, how you fare in your 
 Singakademie. Let anyone but educate a certain number 
 of pupils, he wiU thereby be educating almost as many ad- 
 versaries. Every genuine artist must be looked upon, as y 
 one who is guarding something that is acknowledged to be 
 sacred, which it is his wish to propagate with earnestness 
 and care. But every century, in its own way, tends towards 
 what is secular, striving to make what is sacred, common, 
 what is difficult, easy, what is serious, amusing : and nothing 
 could be said against this, were it not for the fact, that 
 earnestness and humour are thereby utterly destroyed. So 
 much for to-day ! Let me of ten hear from you. Johanna' 
 Sebus is often enough asked for, at our musical gatherings 
 on a Sunday, and goes charmingly ; I might almost hope 
 that you yourself would be satisfied. We have not yet 
 had it performed with instruments. Eberwein is doing, 
 admirably ; I wish he could have the good fortune, to enjoy 
 another six months of your society and teaching. Our 
 Ga^ellmeister, MiiUer, keeps his orchestra and chorus, as 
 well as the solo singers, capitally together, and we certainly 
 have been well off, in the way of musical enjoyment this 
 winter. And herewith, from my heart, farewell ! I am busy 
 in various ways, and am quietly getting rid of things, so that 
 I may soon be able to set out again on my summer tour. 
 
 Enclosuee. 
 Goethe to Here David Feiedlandbe. 
 
 Weimar, 8th March, 1811. 
 The Bull you so kindly sent me, has arrived safely, 
 and I am much obliged to you for it. Whilst offering you 
 
 G 
 
82 Goethe's letters [1811, 
 
 my best thanks, I will, at the same time, tell you what I 
 think about this work of art. 
 
 Towards the end of the sixteenth century, a skilful worker ■ 
 in bronze may have come into the possession of the frag- 
 ment of an antique bull, and, moreover, of the uninjured 
 fore-part of the same ; this is the more likely, as figures of 
 this kind were cast in two parts, and soldered together in 
 the middle. The artist may have perceived the value and 
 dignity of this fragment, — modelled it accordingly, and 
 restored the hinder part, after the fashion of his own art. 
 Over this renovated model, he then made the necessary 
 form, cast the entire figure, and worked it out afresh. 
 Hence the discordance of the parts, which strikes one, on 
 looking at this creature. The fore-part has the imposing, 
 tasteful, and intellectual quality of ancient art ; the hinder 
 part, on the other hand, has certain excellencies belongiug 
 to more modern times, e.g. something natural and elaborate 
 in the parts ; but the actual meaning of the antique has 
 not been grasped, either as regards the position, or move- 
 ment of the limbs, and so the result is a work with a double 
 naeaning, which only interests us rightly for the first time, 
 when it has been divided into two parts, as I have divided it. 
 But I should not have been able to maintain this distinctly, 
 were it not, that I myself already possess a bull of the same 
 size, which is a genuine antique ; this has enabled me to 
 make the comparison. ' This, moreover, is the very reason, 
 why this new specimen is so valuable to me, for of course, 
 in such cases, it is mainly a question of one's insight and 
 judgment, one's knowledge of the epochs in Art, and 
 ability to distinguish periods of time. 
 
 So I packed up my best duplicates at once, and am 
 sending them with this, carefully secured, in the hope 
 that the little box will arrive safely. I do not add any 
 catalogue, as your son, who is a connoisseur, and the 
 possessor of so considerable a collection, and who more- 
 over has every other means at his command, will easily be 
 able to criticise and arrange the things I have forwarded. 
 There is little necessity for me to add anything about their 
 value. I only hope, that the collection may be welcome, 
 if not as a whole, at all events in part. I sometimes 
 receive a contribution to my art treasures, from Rome; 
 
1811.] TO ZELTEB. 83 
 
 and should I find any duplicates among these, I will not 
 fail to let you know. 
 
 Last year's programme to the A, L. Z. was written by 
 our great connoisseur, Herr Hofrath Meyer ; it was to 
 have been continued this year, but has not been printed 
 yet. Meanwhile, I enclose a proof impression of the plate, 
 which was to have accompanied the continuation. I have 
 in my possession all the medals given in the engraving, 
 and I reckon them among my treasures. May I ask you to 
 let me have a few lines, announcing the safe arrival of the 
 little box ? — while wishing to hear that it has been kindly 
 received, I would fain hope, that the connection formed 
 between us may be continued in future. With every good 
 wish for your welfare, and commending myself to your 
 kind remembrance, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 61. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Carlsbad, 26th June, 1811. 
 
 .... I teust you may in some way be rewarded, 
 for what you are doing for Pcmdora. Could I have fore- 
 seen your interest in this work, I should have treated the 
 subject differently, and tried to free it from what is at 
 present difficult of fusion with music and representation. 
 But now it cannot be otherwise. Go on with it, as is most 
 easy to you, and I will see if I can manage to complete the 
 Second Part.* I have planned and sketched out every- 
 thing, but the figures themselves have got rather far away 
 from me, and I am even somewhat astonished at their 
 Titanic shapes, when, (as it chanced, yesterday,) I happen 
 to read aloud something out of it. 
 
 May all harmonious spirits attend you on your journey 
 to Silesia, and may your active perseverance be rewarded by 
 adequate results ! — for truly, when one reflects how little the 
 World has responded to your fair and noble achievements, 
 one may well say, that the response has been inadequate. 
 
 * The Second Part was never written; Goethe found that he had 
 planned the First on too large a scale for continuation. Frau von 
 Levezow was the prototype of Pandora. 
 
84 Goethe's letties [1811. 
 
 Tou certainly will not find me here on your proposed home- 
 ward journey through Bohemia. The last four, nay, the 
 last five months of the year, promise to be very lively for 
 Weimar, and happy too, please God ! In August, we 
 expect Her Highness's confinement, in September, Iffland's 
 return, and in October, Brizzi. Alas ! in all such cases I 
 seem to myself like a double Hermes, one mask of which 
 resembles Prometheus, neither of which — ^because of the 
 eternal fore and after — can at the moment summon up 
 a smile. 
 
 Carlsbad is just now lively enough ; it has looked quite 
 different to me this time. As my wife was here and had 
 her own carriage, I have got further out into the open 
 country than in the last few years, and have taken fresh 
 pleasure in the neighbourhood, and what is to be found 
 there, because I have been able to wander through it with 
 new companions, who were justly astonished and delighted 
 with a great deal that they saw. 
 
 Himmel has been here for some days, and, though 
 suffering, is still the same as of old, cheerful and sym- 
 pathetic, and improving even the roughest instruments by 
 his playing. I have all along heard and seen too little of 
 l)im, and we do not meet very often, owing to his gay way 
 of life ; yet it has occurred to me latterly, whether I 
 might not be able to edit the maxims, convictions, im- 
 pulses, or whatever you like to call them, by which he 
 steers in his musical settings of lyric poems, or by which 
 he is guided. This does not seem to me impossible, and I 
 think I am fairly on the way ; still I have too many de- 
 ficiencies to be able to get quit of my task so easily. If, 
 at your leisure, you will enlighten me on this point, you 
 would be doing me a kindness. Now farewell, and should 
 you care to let me have a word, before you leave Berlin, 
 send it direct to Weimar. 
 
 G. 
 
1812.] TO ZBLTER. 35 
 
 1812. 
 
 62. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 8th April, 1812. 
 .... As the work of my little musical Institute 
 has been broken in upon this winter,* I have not had 
 so much pleasant interchange of thought with you as usual. 
 I have been very busy at the Theatre, and have brought 
 out upon the stage a concentrated Borneo, f Tou will pro- 
 bably soon see the play in Berlin ; take the opportunity of 
 letting me hear what you think of it, what others think of 
 it, and how it was acted. I like so much to have your 
 frank reports and criticisms. 
 
 I have been working at the second volume of my bio- 
 graphical effort, J in thought and memory, much more than 
 on paper ; if I come to Carlsbad, I dare say it will get 
 on quicker. The contents of this volume are not over 
 favourable ; we must first cross a valley, before we regain a 
 favourable and cheerful height ; meanwhile, let us see how 
 we can stroll through it with our friends, pleasantly and 
 profitably. 
 
 Two friends, Herr von Einsiedel and Riemer, § have con- 
 ferred a benefit on the Theatre, by translating and remodel- 
 ling Oalderon's play. Life's a Dream. Our actors devoted 
 much industry and care to the performance, as I — with the 
 technical spirits of the Theatre — did to the arrangement ; 
 so we have got hold of a good play, which will last. 
 
 * Owing to the intrigues of Caroline Jagemann, the actress. 
 
 t Goethe's version of this play, first acted at Weimar, January 31st, 
 1812, kept the stage in Berlin, up to our own time, though it was severely 
 criticised at first. 
 
 J Dichtung imd Wahrheit. 
 
 § Court-page and ultimately chamberlain to the Duchess Amalia. 
 He was something of a poet and musician, was known everywhere as 
 VAmi Riemer, and entered Goethe's house, as tutor to his son, having 
 previously served the Humboldt family in that capacity ; he remained 
 with Goethe as secretary and companion. 
 
86 Goethe's lettees [1812. 
 
 Our friend Riemer was this Easter appointed Professor at 
 the Grymnasium here ; and, sorry as I am to lose him, I am 
 glad to know that he is active, and, moreover, in a way 
 suited to his powers and talents. Nay, he is up to much 
 more than is here demanded of him, so he cannot but feel 
 at home in his business. . . 
 
 G. 
 
 63. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 14th April, 1812. 
 As regards your concentrated Borneo, I suppose you 
 will have seen from the newspapers, the hostile criticisms 
 of certain blatant critics. I understand too little about the 
 matter, to determine accurately the rights and wrongs of it. 
 Many of our learned patrons would be only too glad to 
 pose, as the gossips, or TJniversity-chums of genius, and 
 then, before we know where we are, back comes Schroder's 
 Samlet, and no one so much as grumbles. On the other 
 hand, there are people who insist on getting over every- 
 thing, so long as you have had a hand in it, and, so I have 
 been revelling once more in the vision of true passion, which 
 has none of the taint of virtue, so-called. And that is my 
 barom.eter, or measuring-rod, for taking in the whole crew 
 at a glance. 
 
 I am heart and soul one of those, who are averse to 
 losing a single word of Shakespeare ; the parts omitted 
 often belong to my favourite passages, — but I am also 
 satisfied with a claw of him. More than that, I care little 
 for the reconciliation of the Capulets and the Montagues, 
 after what has gone before, and only in so far as Shake- 
 speare says it with his own words. From a moral point 
 of view, everyone is bright enough to know, what must 
 . naturally arise out of such a family feud ; so in my judg- 
 ment, you were perfectly right in finishing the play, where 
 it really ends.* The new friendship is either a matter of 
 course, or follows, because the old people would like to die 
 in peace The way the poet is blamed, and Mile. 
 
 • In Goethe's version, t!ie play ends with a short soliloquy of the Friar 
 after Jaliet's death. 
 
1812.] TO ZBLTEE. 87 
 
 Maas extolled in our newspaper, can be no enigma to you, 
 as you know both. For this artist, (as we call such an one 
 here,) is still just what she always was — a good reservoir. 
 She speaks her part glibly, one may say, inoffensively, 
 
 and the spectator can make his Juliet for himself 
 
 Zelteb. 
 
 64 — Goethe to Zelteb. 
 
 Weimar, 17th April, 1812. 
 .... I HAVE made up my mind to send you a little 
 thing I wrote last year,* so that we may have a new subject 
 for regular discussion. 
 
 I wrote this Cantata, or Scena, if you prefer to call it 
 so, for Prince Friedrich von Gotha, who wanted something 
 of the kind, to show ofE his good and well-trained tenor 
 voice. 
 
 Capellmeister Winter of Munich has set it to music very 
 successfully, with ability, taste, and fluency, so that the 
 Prince's talent is displayed in its best light. He is now 
 however keeping' the score in his own hands, for which I 
 do not blame him. But why should I not show the poem 
 to you, and thus throw some new life into our communica- 
 tions ? Farewell, and continue to love me I 
 
 G. 
 
 65. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 25th April, 1812. 
 • • . . ToUE Emaldo will be no easy matter, if the 
 full meaning hidden ia it is to be brought out, — its en- 
 chanting lightness, grace, and charming smoothness ! He 
 who is not too old should take a lesson from the Italian 
 School, but in some happy hour, we will try our hand at 
 
 it 
 
 A little time ago, I found in Voltaire's works, (the Gotha 
 edition of 1785,) a musical Opera, Sanuon, which Rameau 
 actually set to music, though it has never yet been brought 
 out. I rather liked Voltaire's treatment, and the subject, 
 
 • Binaldo, 
 
88 fiOETHE'S LETTEES [1812. 
 
 assuming Bome necessary alterations, would be thoroughly 
 suitable for an Opera. 
 
 An Opera, in my judgment, should not have more than 
 ■ three Acts ; two long and one short, or better still, one 
 long, between two short Acts. Here is my plan 
 
 Act I. Choruses of Israelites lament their defeat, but 
 encouraged by Samson, conquer the Philistines. 
 
 Act II. Triumphal entry of the Israelites. Reconcilia- 
 tion of Samson with Delilah. Recognition of the son, 
 (supposed to have been born to Samson and Delilah.) 
 Treacheiy practised on Samson. 
 
 Act III. Imprisonment and death of Samson, the well- 
 known story ; very brilliant. 
 
 Now what do you say to this ? Would there not be 
 field enough there, for treatment and dramatic action ? I 
 thought you might set to, and anyhow rectify this plan ; at 
 
 all events I will have the verses made for me here 
 
 Zelteb. 
 
 66. — Goethe to Zelteb. 
 
 Carlsbad, 19th May, 1812. 
 
 TouE dear letter of the 8th of May finds me in 
 Carlsbad on the 18th, so I intend to send you a reply at 
 once, as I think you will read it within ten days. 
 
 Tour kind words about Rinaldo are not only very plea- 
 sant to me, but will, I hope, prove fruitful, for they have 
 raised me to the consciousness of that, which by Nature 
 and inclination, I have done, and should like to do, par- 
 ticularly for music on the stage. When you say — " Every- 
 thing is freely and lightly hinted ; the words are not en- 
 croaching, and the musician has actually to do with the 
 subject itself" — this is giving me the greatest praise I could 
 wish for ; for in my opinion, a poet ought to draw his 
 sketch, upon a very widely- woven canvas, in order that the 
 musician may have ample space for working out his em- 
 broidery with greater freedom, and with coarse or fine 
 threads, as he thinks fit. The libretto for an Opera should 
 be a cartoon, not a finished picture. This is certainly our 
 opinion, but most of our good Germans are completely 
 wanting in any idea of these things ; yet hundreds would 
 
1812.] TO ZELTER. 89 
 
 fain try their hand at it. How great, on the contrary, is 
 our admiration of many of the Italian works, where poets, 
 composers, singers, and stage decorators, can all agree about 
 a certain adequate technique. One new German Opera after 
 another fails for want of appropriate words, and the good 
 Viennese, who do not in the least know where the shoe 
 pinches, offer a hundred ducats for the best Opera, which 
 anyone in Germany may produce, whereas they might 
 double the amount at the right smithy, and thereby them- 
 selves be the gainers. 
 
 The matter is, in fact, more difficult than people sup- 
 pose ; one would have to spend a cheerful existence on the 
 spot itself, among all those who are contributing to the 
 performance, and then, year after year, one ought to produce 
 something new. One thing would lead to another, and 
 perfection might spring, even from a failure. 
 
 Just now I should have no faith in Samson; it is one of 
 the most monstrous of the old myths. A perfectly bestial 
 passion of a supematurally strong, divinely-gifted hero for 
 the most accursed wretch, that the earth has ever seen, — 
 the mad desire, that ever leads him back to her, though, 
 owing to repeated acts of treachery, he is each time con- 
 scious of his danger — this lustfulness, which itself springs 
 from the danger — the mighty conception one must form of 
 the overweening savoir faire of this gigantic woman, who is 
 capable of fettering such a bull ! On looking at all this, 
 dear friend, it will at once become manifest to you, that 
 we should have to annihilate it, if only to get at names 
 in accordance with the proprieties of our time and stage. 
 It would be much more advisable at once to choose a 
 subject with fewer specific difficulties," if not indeed, 
 one that would of itself float upon the element of the 
 day. Look at the Schweieerfa/milie,* and things of that 
 stamp. 
 
 I must mention one other consideration. Subjects from 
 the Old Testament produce a very strange effect here ; this 
 was brought before my notice, when Robert's Jephtha, and 
 Alfieri's ScmI were given. They do not excite any disfavour, 
 but stiU it is not favour ; not disinclination, but uninclination. 
 
 * An Opera by Winter. 
 
90 Goethe's lbttbes [1812. 
 
 Those myths, truly grand as they are, present a respectable 
 appearance in the solemn distance, and our youthful devo- 
 tion remains attached to them. But when these heroes 
 step forward into the present, it occurs to us, that they are 
 Jews, and we feel a contrast between the ancestors and the 
 descendants, which confuses and jars upon us. This is 
 the way I explain it to myself hurriedly, whilst closely 
 watching the effect of both pieces. This last consideration 
 would be set aside, were the myths transferred to other 
 nations. But other difficulties would then arise ; I shall 
 think further about this. 
 
 In conclusion, I must beg of you not to withhold those 
 compositions, and at the same time, for our old love's sake, 
 to give our correspondence new life. 
 
 And pray, no such long pause again ! 
 
 G. 
 
 67. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Carlsbad, 2nd September, 1812. 
 .... I MADE Beethoven's acquaintance in Toplitz. 
 His talent astounded me ; but unfortunately, his natural 
 temperament is wholly uncontrolled, and although, indeed, 
 not at all wrong in thinking the world detestable, still, in 
 so doing, he does not make it pleasanter, either for himself 
 or for others. However, he is greatly to be excused, and 
 much to be pitied, for he is losing his hearing, which per- 
 haps affects the musical, less than the social part of his 
 being. As it is, he is laconic by nature, and is now be- 
 coming doubly so through this defect. And now a hearty 
 farewell ! 
 
 G. 
 
 68. — Zelteb to GoiTHB. 
 
 Berlin, 13th September, 1812. 
 .... Just now Milder- Hauptmann * is with us. 
 I have heard her in Gluck's Iphigenia, the Schweizerfa/milie, 
 
 * Pauline Anna Milder-Hauptmann, a famous singer, for whom the 
 part of Fidelio was written. Thayer relates the hard fights she had 
 with the master, about some passages in the Adagio of the great Scena 
 in E major, described by her, as " ugly, unvocal, and inimical to her 
 
1812.] TO ZELTEB. 91 
 
 and the Zauberflote, in which she sings the part of Tamino. 
 The voice, figure, and style of this young artist are so free, 
 powerful, and graceful, especially in the part of Emelina, 
 that we have seen nothing like it for a long time here. 
 They blame her vocalization, as inartistic, and that kind of 
 thing, but I find much to praise, e.g. warmth, truth, solid 
 and equal singing, and a kind of Swiss sturdiness, most 
 naively expressed ; anyhow, I have never seen passions 
 
 represented so chastely and effectively 
 
 Z. 
 
 69. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 14th September, 1812. 
 
 .... We have lost our very clever Italian Capell- 
 
 meister, Righini,* who died at his native place, Bologna, 
 
 on the 19th of August. He was to us much what Salieri was 
 
 to Vienna ; fresher than Salieri perhaps, but pretty equal 
 
 in breadth and height 
 
 What you say of Beethoven is quite natural ; I too ad- 
 mire him with awe. His own works seem to cause him a 
 secret shudder— a feeling which, in the new culture, is set 
 aside much too lightly. His works seem to me like children, 
 whose father might be a woman, or whose mother, a man. 
 The last work of his that I became acquainted with, 
 {Ohristus am, Oelberge,) seems to me an unchaste thing, the 
 ground and aim of which is an eternal death. The musical 
 critics, who seem to be more at home in anything, than in 
 what is natural and individual, have poured themselves out 
 in the oddest fashion, in praise and blame of this composer. 
 I know musical people, who formerly, on hearing his works, 
 were alarmed, nay, indignant, and are now seized with a 
 
 organ." (See Thayer's ij/e of Beethoven, vol. ii. p. 290, and the article 
 " Milder-Hauptmann," in Sir G. Grove's Dictionary of Music and Mu- 
 sicians.') Her splendid, but unwieldy voice was heard to great advan- 
 tage in the leading parts of Gluck's classical Operas. Haydn once said 
 to her, " Dear child, you have a voice like a house." Goethe wrote 
 some lines in her honour, after hearing her in Iphigenia in Tauris, 
 presenting her at the same time with a copy of his own drama on the 
 same subject. 
 
 * Vincenzo Bighini, a second-class composer. One of his twenty 
 Operas, H Convitaio di Pietra, ossia II Bisaoluto, was the forerunner of 
 Mozart's Don Giovanni, which came out ten years afterwards. 
 
92 Goethe's letters [1812. 
 
 passion for them, like the devotees of Grecian love. How 
 thoroughly one can enjoy them, is conceivable, and what 
 may come of it, you have shown clearly enough in the 
 Wdhherwamdtschaften 
 
 70. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd November, 1812. 
 Tour letter, my beloved Friend, announcing the great 
 misfortune * which has befallen your house, has greatly 
 afflicted — nay, bowed me down, for it came to me, when I 
 was in the midst of very serious meditations on life, and it 
 was only through you yourself, that I was enabled to rise 
 again. On the black touchstone of death, you have proved 
 yourself genuine, refined gold. How glorious a character 
 appears, when it is penetrated with mind and soul, and how 
 beautiful must that talent be, which rests on such a basis ! 
 As to the deed or misdeed itself, I can say nothing. 
 When the taedivmi vitcB seizes a man, he is only to be 
 pitied, not blamed. That all the symptoms of this strange 
 disease, as natural as it is unnatural, at one time raged 
 furiously through my own innermost being, no one who 
 reads Werther will probably doubt. I know full well what 
 resolutions and efforts it cost me in those days, to escape 
 from the waves of death ; just as with difficulty I saved 
 myself, to recover painfully, from many a later shipwreck. 
 And so it fares with all sailors' and fishermens' stories. 
 After the storm at night, the shore is reached again, the 
 drenched man dries himself, and the following morning, 
 when the glorious sun once more breaks forth over the 
 glittering waves, " the sea has once more an appetite for 
 figs."t 
 
 * The suicide of Zelter's son, minutely described in a previous 
 letter. Here, for the first time, Goethe uses the familiar Bu, instead of 
 the formal Sie ; not even Schiller was ever thus addressed by him. 
 
 t A play upon the Greek proverb, the origin of which is explained 
 by Zenobius, Frovtrb., cent. v. 51 : — 
 
 "O 2iKEX6e jt)v BaXaaaav. 
 
 XiKE\6f , ^aa'iv, ifiTropoe avKa dyoiv , 
 
 iva/idyriacV clra ijrl wirpag KaQrtjiivoQ, 
 
 K«; bpStv rfiv OdKaaaav iv yakqvy 
 
 Ifi], OlSa 8 BiXer ama 6e\ei. 
 
1812.] TO ZELTEE. 93 
 
 When one sees how the world in general, and the young 
 world in particular, is not only given over to its lusts and 
 passions, but how, at the same time, what is nobler and / 
 better in it is abused and perverted by the serious follies / 
 of the time, so that everything which should have led to 
 its blessedness, becomes its curse, not taking into account 
 the inexpressible pressure from without, one is not as- 
 tonished at the misdeeds, by which man rages against him- 
 self and others. I could trust myself to write a new 
 Werther, which would make the nation's hair stand more 
 on end than the first one. Let me add one other remark. 
 Most young persons, conscious of some merit in themselves, 
 make more demand upon themselves than is fair. To this, 
 however, they are urged and driven, by their gigantic sur- 
 roundings. I know half-a-dozen such persons, who are 
 certainly being ruined, and whom it would be impossible 
 to help, even if one could enlighten them as to their real 
 advantages. No one easily arrives at the conclusion, that 
 reason, and a brave will are given us, that we may not only 
 hold back from evil, but also from the extreme of good. 
 
 Now let us pass on to other things in your letters, which 
 have done me good, and first of all, accept my thanks for 
 your remarks on the pages of my biography. I had already, 
 in a general way, heard many kind and friendly things said 
 about them ; you are the first and only one, who has entered 
 into the matter itself. I am glad that the description of 
 my father produced a favourable effect upon you. I will 
 not deny, that I am heartily tired of these German jjaires 
 fa/nmlia/riwm, these Lorenz Starks,* or whatever they are 
 called, who yield with gloomy humour to their Philistine 
 natures, and who, by their uncertainty, obstruct and destroy 
 the desires prompted by their good nature, and the happi- 
 ness of those around them. In the next two volumes my 
 father's portrait will be still further developed ; if — on his 
 part, as well as on the son's — one grain of conscious un- 
 derstanding had entered into that estimable family relation- 
 ship, much might have been spared to both. This however 
 
 * Lorenz Stark is the title of a novel by J. J. Engel (1741-1802). 
 It was first published in Die Soren. The hero is a strict, somewhat 
 pedantic father. 
 
94 Goethe's letters [1812. 
 
 was not to be, and in fact, it does not seem to belong to this 
 world. Tbe best of plans for the journey is destroyed by 
 a silly misobance, and one never goes further, than when 
 one does not know whither one is going. 
 
 Pray, be kind enough to continue your remarks : for as — 
 in accordance with the requirements of the representation — 
 I go slowly, and keep a great deal in petto, — (at which many 
 readers are already getting impatient, who would, I sup- 
 pose, be very glad to have the whole meal— from beginning 
 to end — served up to them, boiled and roast at one sitting, 
 that the following day they might be entertained at some 
 other refreshment-stall, or eating-house, better or worse as 
 their luck might be,) as 1 therefore, as aforesaid, keep 
 behind the hill, so as to advance, at the right moment, 
 with my lancers and cavalry ; it is exceedingly interesting 
 to me, to hear what you — as an experienced campaigner — 
 notice in the advanced guard. 
 
 I have not yet read any reviews of this little work ; this 
 I intend doing, once for all, when the next two volumes are 
 out. For many years past, I have observed, that those, 
 whose duty and wish it is, to speak about me in public, 
 whether well or ill disposed towards me, seem to feel them- 
 selves in a painful situation ; at all events, I have scarcely 
 met with a reviewer, who has not, in some passage, assumed 
 the famous look of Vespasian,* and presented a/aciem durcvm. 
 
 If some day or other, you could send me Sdnaldo un- 
 awares, it would be a grand thing. I have no connec- 
 tion with music, except through you, for which reason, 
 let me thank you heartily for the Iiwoeavit and the Three 
 Kings, though I have as yet only feasted upon them with 
 my eyes. 
 
 We live here, spending quite disproportionate sums on 
 music, and yet we are really quite songless and soundless. 
 The Opera, with its old stock pieces, and the novelties that 
 are dished up, and slowly enough produced for a small 
 Theatre, cannot be a compensation to anyone. Meanwhile, I 
 rejoice that both Court and Town are made to believe, that 
 there is some kind of enjoyment to be had. The inhabitant 
 of a great city must be deemed fortunate in this respect ; 
 
 * See Suetonius' Life of Vespasian, chapter xxii. 
 
1812.] TO ZELTEE. 95 
 
 for after all, it attracts many remarkable foreign artists, 
 I should indeed have liked to hear Madame Milder. 
 
 Ton aimed a good shot at Alfieri ; he is more remarkable 
 than enjoyable. His plays are explained by his life. He 
 torments readers and listeners, as he tormented himself as 
 an author. His disposition was out and out that of a 
 Count, i.e. aristocratic to the core. He hated tyrants, be- 
 cause he was conscious of a tyrannical vein in himself; 
 and Fate had conferred a very appropriate affliction upon 
 him, in punishing him tolerably well, at the hands of the 
 Sons-culottes. This same aristocratic and courtly nature in 
 him becomes very amusing at the end, when he cannot 
 find any better way of rewarding himself for his merits, 
 than by getting an Order made for himself. Could he 
 ehow more clearly, how incarnate these forms were in him ? 
 
 In the same way, I cannot but agree with what you say 
 about Rousseau's Pygmalion. This work is certainly of 
 the monstrous order, and extremely remarkable, as a 
 symptom of the main disease of those days, when State and 
 morals, Art and talent, together with a nameless article, 
 which however was called Nature, had to be stirred, nay, 
 were actually stirred and whipped up into a kind of pap. 
 This operation, my next volume wiU, I hope, bring into 
 view ; for was I not myself seized by the epidemic, and 
 was it not beneficently guilty of the development of my 
 being, which is now inconceivable to me in any other way ? 
 
 And now I have still to reply to your inquiry about the 
 Erste WaVpmrgis Nacht. The matter stands thus. Amongst 
 historical inquirers, there are some men, and moreover 
 men whom we cannot but respect, who look for a real 
 foundation for every fable, every tradition, however fan- 
 tastic and absurd it may be, and always expect to find a 
 kernel of fact, beneath the legendary husk. We owe a 
 great deal of good to this mode of treating the matter ; 
 for the study demands great knowledge, nay, it is even 
 necessary to have mind, wit, and imagination, to convert 
 poetry into prose in this way. Thus, one of our German 
 antiquarians has endeavoured to rescue, and to give an 
 historical foundation for the story of the witches' and devils' 
 ride on the Brocken, a legend which has been current in 
 Germany, from time immemorial. His explanation is, that 
 
96 goethb's litters [1812. 
 
 the heathen priests and patriarchs of Germany, when they 
 were driven from their sacred groves, and when Christianity 
 was forced upon the people, nsed to retire — at the be- 
 ginning of spring — with their faithful followers, to the 
 wild, inaccessible heights of the Harz mountains, in order, 
 according to the ancient custom, there to offer prayer and 
 flame to the nnembodied god of heaven and earth. And 
 further, in order to be safe from the armed spies and con- 
 verters, he thinks, they may have found it well, to disguise 
 a number of their own people, so as to keep their super- 
 stitious foes at a distance, and that thus, protected by the 
 antics of devils, they carried out the purest of services. 
 
 I found this explanation somewhere, a few years ago, but 
 cannot remember the name of the author. The idea pleased 
 me, and I have turned this fabulous story back again into 
 a poetical fable. 
 
 And now, my very kindest farewell ! How much I wish 
 that I could go to you, in place of this letter ! 
 
 G. 
 
 71. — Goethe to Zeltkb. 
 
 Weimar, 12th December, 1812. 
 
 The mail-coach will bring you a strange work, which 
 is certain to afiord you some amusement. It is written by 
 a remarkable, though certainly rather a strange man, and 
 contains a new series of symbols for musical notation. 
 Instead of the lines, intervals, heads and tails of notes, 
 hitherto in vogue, he employs numerical signs, maintaining 
 that this method is a much simpler one. I am no judge 
 of this, for in the first place, I have been accustomed to 
 the old style of musical notation, from my youth upwards, 
 and in the second, no one could have a greater horror of 
 figures than I have ; — again, I have ever avoided and fled 
 from all numerical symbols, from those of Pythagoras, up to 
 our latest mathematico-mystics, as from something shape- 
 less and comfortless. 
 
 The authoij, who calls himself Doctor "Wemeburg, is 
 certainly a bom mathematician, but with this peculiarity, 
 that while simplifying matters for himself, he makes them 
 difficult for others ; consequently, he has never been able 
 
1812.] TO ZELTBE. 97 
 
 to carry anything out, and I hardly think he will ever be 
 happy and contented, either as a citizen, or as a man of 
 science. 
 
 Let me have a few lines about this little book ; for you 
 will see at a glance what speaks in its favour, or the re- 
 verse. 
 
 A few days ago, while meditating — as one is apt to do 
 on winter evenings — on many a thing gone by, it struck 
 me, that Herr Friedlander, last year, offered me in ex- 
 change a small bust of Jupiter, in red marble. If it is 
 still to be had, and he has not changed his mind, I 
 should be glad, if it could be packed up and sent to me. 
 I would then, as before, let him know frankly what I think 
 of it, and offer him the best thing I have to give in -return. 
 I have, for instance, two medallions of Moses, by Cellini, 
 with the inscription ut bibat populus, which I certainly 
 ought to value highly, as I hunted for one in vain, for 
 thirty years, and then, by a strange coincidence, got them 
 both in one year. 
 
 Perhaps the possessor of the bust has some, other pet 
 fancy, which I can meet half-way 
 
 We actually expect Iffland before the New Tear. I am 
 greatly delighted at the prospect of seeing him again, after 
 so long, and of admiring the great consistency of his 
 acting, by which he contrives to ennoble every part he 
 plays. It is probably one of the rarest of phenomena, and 
 one, I think, that has never occurred with any other nation, 
 that the greatest actor should generally select for himself 
 parts, which are intrinsically unworthy of him, though, 
 by his acting, he knows how to invest them with the 
 highest momentary value. Carefully examined, such con- 
 duct has a most unfavourable influence on the taste of the 
 people ; for to be forced, under a given condition, to prize 
 that which one does not esteem otherwise, creates a discord 
 in our f eeliugs, which, with the multitude, generally adjusts 
 itself in favour of what is paltry and despicable, inasmuch 
 as it has crept in under the cloak of excellence, and now 
 asserts that it is excellent itself. 
 
 However, let us keep these observations to ourselves ; 
 they are of no use to the world, which prefers its own 
 chaotic course. 
 
98 Goethe's lbttees [1812. 
 
 In working at the Third Part of my Biography, I am 
 coming to the first efieots of Shakespeare in Germany. Is 
 there anything new to be said on this subject ? I hope so. 
 Shall I express myself in accordance with what everyone 
 thinks ? This I very much doubt. And moreover, as the 
 Germans have ever been in the habit of insisting that they 
 understand the thing, better than the man whose profession 
 it happens to be, that they understand it, better than he 
 who has spent his whole life upon the subject, this time, 
 too, they will make wry faces, for which however, they shall 
 be forgiven, in consideration of their other defects. 
 
 But, dearest friend, pardon me also, if I too sometimes 
 appear a little sour in my letters. " Old churches, dark 
 window-s," says the German proverb, and the short days 
 do not make them clearer. I mostly reserve my cheer- 
 fulness for my biographical hours, so that nothing gloomy 
 and impure may mingle with the reflections, which must 
 be put in train anyhow. 
 
 Now, good-bye. Let me soon hear from you. 
 
 G. 
 
 • 72. — ZiLTEE TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 24th December, 1812. 
 Mt sweet friend and master ! My beloved, my 
 brother ! What shall I call him, whose name is ever on 
 my tongue, whose image is reflected on all that I love and 
 honour ? When the Weimar envelope wanders up my 
 steps, all the suns rise on my house. The children, who 
 know it well, tear each other to bits, for the privilege of 
 bringing me the letter, and seeing their father's radiant 
 face, and then I hold it long unopened, to see if it is really 
 
 what it is, to squeeze it and kiss it 
 
 I too have lately acquired a treasure, for I have bought 
 an original picture by Denner, a portrait of the highly 
 esteemed composer, Hasse,* who died in Italy, in the year 
 
 * Johann Adolph Hasse, II can Sassom, the rival of Porpora and 
 Gluck, was the most popular dramatic composer of his age. His last 
 Opera, Biiggiero, was performed at Milan in 1774, on the same occasion 
 as a dramatic Serenade, Ascanio in Alba, by Mozart, who was then only 
 seventeen years of age. Hasse is said to have exclaimed, " This boy will 
 
1812.] TO ZELTEB. 99 
 
 1783, aged seventy-eight, after an artistic life that was 
 rich, in results. The picture was painted in 1740 ; it is 
 two and a half feet high, and two feet broad, painted in 
 oil, and in good preservation ; it represents the artist, as 
 a handsome man, in the fulness of his strength, and the 
 zenith of his fame in Germany, bnt especially in Italy, 
 where he was famous under the name of H Sassone. 
 Eyes,' mouth, chin, and nose are beautifully chiselled and 
 rounded, and the bearing of the man, with his expression 
 and colour, confirm his character as an artist, who could 
 only feel quite happy in Italy, — ^f or in Italy he learnt, loved, 
 pleased, married, and died, and he also adopted the religion 
 of that country. His wife was the famous siager, Faus- 
 tina 
 
 Z. 
 
 throw us all into the shade." Two airs from his Artaserse were sung 
 by Farinelli, every evening for ten years, to Philip V of Spain. (For a 
 charming, idealized account of his influence at Dresden, and of his wife, 
 Faustina, see the modern novel of Alcestis.) Faustina, Cuzzoni's famous 
 rival, was for many years the prima donna of Dresden, and Sebastian 
 Bach himself came to hear her, on a holiday trip from Leipzig. 
 
100 Goethe's lettees [1813. 
 
 1813. 
 
 73. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 15th January, 1813. 
 
 I MUST enclose a few lines to you in my parcel to 
 Herr Friedlander, wMch, even thongli they may reach, you 
 a little later, you wUl, I hope, affectionately welcome. I 
 wish above all things to thank you, for having so promptly 
 informed our artistic friends of my wish, and to beg you at 
 the same time, to thank these worthy men, for having so 
 promptly forwarded to me their parcel, just at the New 
 Year. Once agaiu it is a problematical work, and serves 
 the rest of us in the North, who, alas ! live rather in criti- 
 cism than in contemplation, as a topic for manifold discus- 
 sion. You will, probably, when you have an opportunity, 
 get them to show you the letter, in which I have expressed 
 my opinion about it. But belonging — as I surely do — to 
 the school of Identity, nay, having been bom to it, here too 
 the heavy task is laid upon me, of uniting merciless criti- 
 cism with irrational enthusiasm. 
 
 Iffland's presence was a great delight to me. I gave 
 myself up to the pure enjoyment of his talent, endeavoured 
 to understand everythiag as he gave it, and did not trouble 
 myself about what he gave. Listen patiently to the fol- 
 lowing remark. If we .care sincerely for the welfare of Art, 
 we must wish that it should deal with great and worthy 
 objects ; for when the last artistic touches have been given, 
 we look, from a moral point of view, for the greatest perfec- 
 tion in the subject dealt vyith. It was for this reason, be- 
 cause we were still under the delusion, that it was possible 
 to exercise a genetic influence on men, that we, the Weimar 
 Friends of Art, continued to discuss those objects with 
 sincerity, in the Propylden,* and it was this that we aimed 
 
 • A periodical, "through which Goethe hoped to work for ideal 
 plastic art, as Schiller worked for the drama." So few copies were 
 sold, that the publication was discontinued. There are frequent allu- 
 sions to it in Z%e Corre^ondmce between Schiller and Goethe. 
 
1813.] TO ZELTEE. 101 
 
 at in our prize-essays. Our efforts were however of no 
 avail, for since that time, the saint and legend fever has 
 spread on all sides, and has banished all that is truly 
 joyous from Plastic Art. I only complain of this in passing, 
 for I wished to follow up my first remark by saying, that 
 Art, as it is represented by the greatest masters, creates a 
 form so vital in its strength, that it ennobles and trans- 
 figures everything it touches. 
 
 For this very reason, a worthy substratum stands to some 
 extent in the way of the eminent artist, because it ties his 
 hands, and checks the freedom, in which, as a plastic artist 
 and an individual, he would like to expatiate. Musicians 
 have frequently been upbraided for liking bad librettos, 
 and it has been said in jest, that one of them offered 
 to set a poster * to music ; if the song were not inde- 
 pendent of the words, how could the Good-Friday music 
 in the Sistine Chapel, possibly have ended with the word 
 Vitulus ? and there may be other instances. Many a play- 
 bill would make a better Opera than the libretto itself, if 
 it were properly arranged. Thus I have greatly admired 
 Iffland's way of throwing life into dead plays, — nay, his ■ 
 creation out of nothing. The multitude, however, always 
 realistically minded, is distressed about the great, and — in 
 their opinion — wasted outlay. 
 
 The effect produced by Bon Ra/ivudo was remarkable. 
 The utter worthlessness of the piece, the immoral demand, 
 that nobility of birth should ignobly renounce its treasure, 
 stood out like a ghost, and nearly a thousand people, in 
 one small house, were put out of humour ; for even ordinary 
 human intelligence must feel, that the man, whose natural 
 disposition cannot and will not allow him to submit to 
 degradation, does not deserve to be degraded. No one 
 could get up a laugh, from pure compassion. 
 
 This was to me a remarkable phenomenon, because I 
 regarded it as a symptom, that Sans-culottism is already 
 antiquated, and that the different ranks of Society are just 
 now absorbed in quite other cares and passions, than those 
 of tormenting and fighting and irritating one another. 
 In addition, I thought it remarkable, that IfBand, who, 
 
 * Telemann of Hamburg. 
 
102 gobthe's letters [1813. 
 
 in his written plays, aims at the most ample breadth, in his 
 acting, conjures up again the conciseness and terseness of 
 plays that are extemporized. How difEerent our stage 
 would seem, if he had not been forced to take this round- 
 about way, and how difEerent it would seem to all of us, if 
 the direct ways to salvation did not remain a secret to every 
 human being 
 
 I was glad to have a little friendly talk with Heir 
 Pfund, though only for a short time ; what recommended 
 him specially to me, was his attachment to you. I 
 first loved his fiancee, when she was a child of eight years 
 old, and when she was sixteen, I loved her more than was 
 fair. Tou may be all the more friendly to her for that, 
 if she comes to you. 
 
 And now a hearty farewell ! 
 
 G. 
 
 74 — Zblteb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 21st February, 1813. 
 
 .... Yesterday, matters were rather serious at our 
 Court iu Berlin. Out of a number of Cossacks, estimated 
 at about three hundred, some hundred and fifty assembled 
 on the heights before the town, and dashed through the 
 gates, cutting and shooting down a number of Frenchmen, 
 whom they found in the streets. This was towards noon. 
 I was at the Academy. "When I wanted to stroll home, 
 about two o'clock, the bridges were already barred by the 
 French, and planted with cannon, so that I was forced to 
 make a very long detour, and finally reached home, past 
 three o'clock. There had been lively work in my street. 
 The houses opposite mine were riddled with balls. Several 
 citizens are killed, and my neighbour, a merchant, is mor- 
 tally wounded. At five o'clock the Cossacks had found 
 their way out to the gate again. If these bold fellows had 
 quietly penetrated, in full force, into the house of the French 
 Governor, the Duke of Castiglione, instead of busying 
 themselves with cutting down Frenchmen, one by one, in 
 the streets, and alarming the whole city, the cov^ might 
 have succeeded; and, on the other hand, if the French, 
 who appeared to be taken by surprise, had barred the 
 
1813.] TO ZELTEE. 103 
 
 gates at once, not a single Russian would have escaped 
 with his skin. I and my house are still undamaged ; my 
 eldest son has gone to join the king at Breslau, as a cavalry 
 Jager. At this moment, (ten o'clock at night,) they say 
 the French intend to leave the town after midnight; I 
 doiiht ft, for they have been reinforced by 2,000 infantry. 
 
 22nd Kebraary. 
 
 Morning. Seven o'clock. The French have not with- 
 drawn ; the whole garrison bivouacked throughout the 
 night, in the streets. An ominous calm prevails ; nobody 
 knows what to be about, — meantime I am revising my 
 earlier compositions. 
 
 24th February. 
 
 All is quiet. The Cossacks are swarming before the 
 gates. The Viceroy and General St. Cyr have arrived with 
 cavalry, and the town is now occupied by some 12,000 
 men. It is an anxious state of things, but it is long since 
 I have slept so well, as I have since last Saturday. It is 
 so quiet, that of an evening you can hear the footsteps of a 
 dog 
 
 27th February. 
 
 The day before yesterday, I heard a capital performance 
 of Beethoven's Overture to Egmont. Every important 
 theatrical work on the German stage ought, by rights, to 
 have its own music. The profit, which would thence accrue 
 to poet, composer, and public, is incalculable. The poet has 
 the composer on his own field, and can guide him, and 
 teach him to understand, nay, learn to understand him ; 
 the composer works, imbued with an idea of the whole, and 
 knows for a certainty, what he must avoid, without being 
 Umited, and it must be a happiness, for each to recognize 
 
 himself beside, and explain himself through the other 
 
 Tou will see from the papers, that the French have left 
 
 Berlin 
 
 Z. 
 
104 goethb's letters [1813. 
 
 75. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Toplitz, 3rd May, 1813, 
 The enclosed, my dearest Friend, was intended for 
 you long ago; I delayed forwarding it, for at last one 
 scarcely knew, what connections one still had in the world, 
 ■what not ; a good opportunity now occurs of sending it to 
 Berlin. Though at first anxious on your account, I was 
 soon able to feel calm ; now, I am anxious about myself and 
 my property, and perhaps I shall not feel calm again so soon. , 
 On the 17th of April, I left "Weimar, more owing to the per- 
 suasion of my immediate relatives and friends, than from' 
 any determination of my own. By means of a Prussiai 
 passport, I had just succeeded in crossing the lines, when, 
 on the 18th, the French again took possession of Weimar^ 
 not without using force. Of this, however, I myself know 
 nothing more than what is generally reported ; for sinqe 
 that time, I have had no tidings thence, and no letter of 
 mine has been able to get there. 
 
 In Dresden, Dr. Sibbern told me he had seen you, that 
 you had wished him to take charge of something for m.e, 
 but that you had refrained from so doing, as he would pro- 
 bably not come to Weimar. He certainly will not get 
 there, but I should have been delighted to hear something 
 about you in Dresden. I enclose a small poem, a parody 
 of one of the most wretched of all German poems — Ich 
 hahe geUebt, nun lieV ich nicht mehr. If poetizing were not 
 an inward and necessary operation, independent of any 
 outward circumstances, these strophes certainly could not 
 have arisen at the present time ; but as I imagine that one 
 day or other, you will all be playing and singing again, I 
 dedicate this unseasonable joke to you. 
 
 I'arewell, and let me hear something about you soon. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 76. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Toplitz, 23rd June, 1813. 
 As an opportunity offers for sending you a few 
 words, my dearest Friend, I shall not let it pass, for in the 
 
1813.] TO ZELTIE. 105 
 
 present distracted state of the world, one knows no longer, 
 whom one belongs to. I have been here for the last eight 
 ■weeks, leading a solitary life, peacefully working at my 
 ■ third volume, which I hope to have ready at Michaelmas. 
 May Heaven grant us peace, for a thousand and again a 
 thousand reasons, that we may find readers too ! On the 3rd 
 of May, I sent you a report of myself by Herr von Liitzow, 
 with an enclosure. How much I have thought of you ; 
 wherever we turn our thoughts, we see friends in danger. 
 
 My people are well, and resolutely bear up through all ; 
 I am well, and can work. What more could I wish for ? 
 I trust that things are going on pretty well with you, and 
 that I may soon hear. 
 
 77. — GrOETHB TO ZbLTER. 
 
 Weimar, 29th October, 1813. 
 Professor Kibsewettir promises me, that this note 
 shall reach you soon. He will teU you how matters stand 
 with us, and how the monster passed us by, with quite a 
 lenient step. I and mine have nothing to complain of, — 
 nay, we may even consider our fate as fortunate, compared 
 with that of so many others. Tell me something pleasant 
 about yourself. In the midst of so much trouble, it is a 
 great consolation, not to be completely cut off from those 
 we love. All blessings be yours ! inwardly, if not out- 
 wardly. 
 
 78. — GrOlTHE TO ZbLTER. 
 
 Weimar, 26tU December, 1813. 
 At last, my good old Friend, I see your dear hand- 
 writing again ! Tou kindly warn me about the vegetables, 
 and a great comfort it is, for I perceive from this, that the 
 most monstrous Fate cannot destroy even the cycle of 
 turnips. So let it be with all our other possessions. 
 
 First of all, then, you will very much oblige me, by set- 
 ting the words. In te, Domine, speravi, et non confvmda/r in 
 cetemum, as a vocal quartet, as charmingly as you alone 
 
106 Goethe's letters [1813. 
 
 can ; your name shall be highly extolled' thereby. When 
 you have refreshed me thus, I will send you some quodli- 
 hets for your Liedertafel, where all of you, I suppose, will 
 be again enjoying the products of Teltower. 
 
 Towards Christmas, I shall probably send you the third 
 volnme of the thousand and one nights of my foolish life, 
 which looks almost more indiscreet in the account given, 
 than it actually was. 
 
 Ton will be amused, when you see that I have been 
 plagiarizing from you. Were your tneiier not so utterly 
 different from mine, it would happen oftener. 
 
 This note was written some time ago, but the turnips 
 have not yet arrived, and as I expected them from day to 
 day, I did not seal my letter. Lieutenant Mendelssohn 
 wants to take a few words to you from me. Here, there- 
 fore, is the little I have written, with my best wishes and 
 hopes. A parcel and a petition will soon follow. The 
 nervous fever, if it has not actually depopulated our printing 
 works, has at all events very much crippled them, otherwise 
 you would have had the Third Part before this. 
 
 Let me hear from you soon. I have some merry songs 
 in stock. We have also been singing your Brei Konige 
 lately. In this way, we must drive away the bitterness of 
 death. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 79. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 29th December, 1813. 
 
 Hardly had I given Lieutenant Mendelssohn the 
 note, written long ago, with a complaint, that the turnips 
 had not yet come, when they actually arrived, in excellent 
 condition, and though — being very small — they certainly 
 give the cook some trouble in dishing, still my guests 
 relish them all the more. A thousand thanks, and look 
 kindly upon the enclosed. The date will show you, how 
 merrily I managed to get along, through the most anxious 
 time. More anon ! 
 
 G. 
 
1813.] TO ZILTBB. 107 
 
 The Waddling Bell. 
 
 A child refus'd to go betimes 
 
 To church like other people ; 
 He roatn'd abroad, when rang the chimes 
 
 On Sundays from the steeple. 
 
 His mother said : " Loud rings the bell, 
 
 Its voice ne'er think of scorning; 
 Unless thou wilt behave thee well, 
 
 'Twill fetch thee without warning." 
 
 The child then thought : " High overhead 
 
 The bell is safe suspended — " 
 So to the fields he straightway sped 
 
 As if 'twas school-time ended. 
 
 The bell now ceased as bell to ring. 
 
 Roused by the mother's twaddle ; 
 But soon ensued a dreadful thing ! — 
 
 The bell begins to waddle. 
 
 It waddles fast, though strange it seem ; 
 
 The child, with trembling wonder, 
 Buns off, and flies, as in a dream' ; 
 
 The bell would draw him under. 
 
 He finds the proper time at last, 
 
 And straightway nimbly rushes 
 To church, to chapel, hastening fast 
 
 Through pastures, plains, and bushes. 
 
 Each Sunday and each feast as well. 
 
 His late disaster heeds he ; 
 The moment that he hears the bell. 
 
 No other summons needs he. 
 
 Toplitz, 22nd May, 1813. (E. A. BoWKlNG.) 
 
108 GOETHE 'S LETTERS [1814. 
 
 1814. 
 
 80. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 23rd February, 1814. 
 .... First of all, I must tell you that our little 
 Sing-song Society has been feeding upon you, and living 
 upon you alone, and after a melancholy pause, has risen 
 again upon you. We offered the transfiguration of Johcmna 
 Sebus, as a sacrament of our rescue from the broad, never- 
 ending floods. 
 
 I could also tell you a long story about the In te, Bomime, 
 speravi, how I composed these words in my Bohemia.n 
 solitude, amidst peculiar embarrassments from within and 
 without ; they had neither rhythm nor resonance, though 
 meant for four persons — I might say, four voices — and I 
 had no dearer wish, than to hear these beautiful words, 
 musically commented on by you. I was tempted into 
 drawing four lines, one below the other, in order to make 
 the way I understood it, clear. Now that I hear your 
 composition, I find in it a pleasant experience, and want 
 no more instruction. The Dilettante is only touched by 
 that which is easily comprehensible, and by that which has 
 an immediate effect ; this is also characteristic of his own 
 productions, wherever he ventures tentatively upon any one 
 of the arts. My composition, which is fairly rounded and 
 definite, resembles one of Jomelli's, and it is curious and 
 funny enough, to catch oneself accidentally upon such 
 paths, and for once to become aware of one's own somnam- 
 bulism. In order to get clear about this, in another branch 
 of Art, to which I have devoted myself more seriously, I 
 am examining some old landscape sketches, and perceive 
 that it is much the same here. 
 
 Surely there must be some magic sounds in Die wack- 
 elnde Olocke, for, as a matter of fact, I wrote it in Toplitz, 
 whither it seemed to call yon. The fact of my Verliebte 
 
1814.] TO ZELTER. 109 
 
 Launen* still interesting the Berliners, after a lapse of 
 forty years, leads me to suppose that it must contain some 
 
 freshness, which does not yield to time 
 
 As a merry bit of padding, I enclose a few rhymes ont of 
 the wallet of the World's Course f {oais der Tasche des 
 WelUaufes). 
 
 The years are jolly folk, I say ! 
 They brought us plenty yesterday, 
 And still they bring us gifts to-day. 
 And so we younger ones get through 
 A jolly life of Nothing-To-Do ; 
 Till suddenly the years are struck, 
 They've brought us quite enough good luck 5 
 No more they give, no more we borrow. 
 They take to-day, they take to-morrow. 
 
 Age is quite the gentleman. 
 . He knocks as often as he can, 
 But no one says : " Come in ! Good-day I " 
 And at the door he will not stay. 
 Lifts the latch, — and wellaway ! 
 " Kude old fellow I " now we say. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 81. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 9th March, 1814. 
 .... Bie wackelnde Glocke should, I think, be 
 sung by a good Contralto, such as I have often heard among 
 elderly Bohemian women. There are too, in Bohemia, 
 mountains shaped like bells, and driving past them at a 
 certain distance, they seem, to a fantastic eye, to wander 
 
 after you. Thus, once a child, always a child 
 
 Whilst re-reading your letter, I am again reminded of 
 what I really wanted to say before, viz. that I should like to 
 see your Composition for four persons, or your Scheme, be 
 it what it may. We are such slaves to the current forms, / 
 khe subject or image of which our fathers had before them, 
 that we cannot go beyond them, without losing our 
 identity. Were the opportunity, or the image to confront us 
 
 * Die Laune des Verliebten, a pastoral, the first piece that Goethe 
 wrote for the stage. 
 
 + These poems are contained in the cycle headed JEipigra/mmatiich. 
 
110 Goethe's letters [1814. 
 
 again, through which form becomes definite and necessary, 
 no one would have to strain every nerve to seem original. 
 If we only lived nearer each other, no doubt many diffi- 
 culties on this point would be cleared up, as certain things 
 cannot be illustrated by words, and are only plain through 
 the medium of Art. I well remember, that the music of the 
 Leipzig Bach, and his son, the Hamburg Bach, who are 
 both quite new and original, seemed to me in their day 
 almost unintelligible, though I was attracted also by a 
 dim perception of their genuineness. Then came Haydn, 
 whose style was blamed, because it, eo to speak, travestied 
 the bitter earnestness of his predecessors, so that good 
 opinion reverted back again to them. At last Mozart 
 appeared, who enabled us to understand each of the three 
 men, whom he had for his masters. 
 
 Z. 
 
 82. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 22nd April, 1814. 
 
 To-day but a word or two, dear Friend, to tell you, 
 
 that to my great delight, your last consignment reached me 
 
 safely ; the parts are copied out, and so far prepared, that 
 
 my compendious household- Choir can soon give me a treat. 
 
 To be sure, a special art is requisite to keep alive this 
 heterogeneous body, from which now this, now that mem- 
 ber drops off. The BuheUed is admirable, our Tenor sings 
 it very well, and in these restless times, it is all the happi- 
 ness we get. 
 
 Eight days ago, I had a special bit of good luck. 
 Professor Sartorius of Gottingen,* an old friend, avails 
 himself of the communication re-opened between the 
 Germans, and is paying me a visit. What at present is 
 more desirable, than the conversation of a man, whose 
 business it is, to be acquainted with, and to balance the 
 strength, and the relations of states, one against the other, 
 up to our own time ? We get the greatest tranquillity 
 from surveying this huge Whole, and from founding our 
 
 * Hofrath Sartorius of Gottingen, the only man with whom Goethe 
 would discuss politics at this time. 
 
1814.J TO ZBLTEE. Ill 
 
 hopes of future circumstances upon it, instead of finding 
 ourselves, as formerly, in the sad plight of being carried 
 away by the moment, puzzled by newspapers, and perhaps 
 utterly confounded by gossip, — all the more, as the question 
 may now be said to involve, not only the future destiny of 
 Europe, but that of the whole world. . . , , 
 
 G. 
 
 Bloomed a little flower, 
 
 Like a bell, 
 In a springtide hour, 
 
 As it fell. 
 Came a little bee, 
 
 Sipped the dew ; 
 " Why, you must be for me, 
 
 And I for you." 
 
 You never long the greatest man to be ; 
 Ifo ! All you say is : " I'm as good as he." — 
 He's the most envious man beneath the sun. 
 Who thinks that he's as good as everyone. 
 
 I am forced to hide from men, 
 Keep my treasure in my den. 
 For it puts the others out. 
 That I know what I'm about. 
 
 83. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 4th Miy, 1814. 
 .... I HAD a friend, who used to say, that only 
 under two circumstances, would he wish to be a Mng, 
 namely, at dinner, when fresh herrings, or English beer 
 were handed round, in order that he might help himself 
 to the middle slice of the fish, and have the first glass of 
 the beer. I had a similar feeling, when you told me of 
 those aristocratic visitors, who «njoyed your grand and 
 unique representation. Hei'e, to be sure, it is easier not to 
 grudge the distinguished guests the rest of their kingly 
 fate. I should have gladly joined in the revel at that- 
 
 great table, which admits so many sympathetic guests 
 
 The most laughable scenes in Wilhelm Meister are serious 
 in comparison with the tricks I have to resort to, in con- 
 triving that your music shall be no longer visible only, but 
 audible as well 
 
112 GOlTHl'S LETTERS [1814 
 
 When an opportunity offers, I shall send you a full score 
 by Christoph Kaiser, some of whose things you know, 
 especially a Christmas Cantata. He was with me in Italy, 
 and is still leading an abstruse life in Zurich ; I should 
 like to hear in detail, what you think of his style. What I 
 shall send you is the Overture, and the first Act of Scherz, 
 List und Bache, the whole of which he has set to music. 
 He is in my thoughts just now, as I am working at my 
 Italiikdsehe Seise, and should like to be as clear about his 
 art, as I am about his studies and his character. 
 
 Briefly and hurriedly, let me thank you for the great 
 pleasure, which your parcel gave me. I succeeded, this 
 time, in getting the variable Choir that meets at my house, 
 very well organized. 
 
 84. — Zelter ro Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 15th May, 1814. 
 .... Tour last letter of the 4th May, from Weimar, 
 arrived safely. Please let me have Christoph Kaiser's 
 score as soon as possible, as I am already busy preparing 
 for my journey to the Baths, though for the rest of this 
 month, at least, I remain where I am. As yet I do not 
 know a note of Kaiser's music, and if you should chance 
 to have his Christmas Cantata at hand, please send that 
 also. Reiohardt wrote to me the day before yesterday,, 
 that he expects a lasting improvement in his painful con- 
 dition. The Abbe Vogler* died suddenly at Darmstadt, 
 on the 6th of this month. Art would lose an excellent man 
 by his death,' had he not wasted the best time of his life 
 in ploughing foreign ■ acres, dissecting organs, and fur- 
 bishing up old trash 
 
 Z. 
 
 85. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Sth November, 1814. 
 .... On the 11th of October last, Prince Bliicher 
 paid our Simgakademie a visit, and I thought I could not 
 
 * The master of Weber and Meyerbeer. See J. P. Simpson's 
 Translation of The Life of Weber, written by his son. 
 
1814.] TO ZBLTER. 113 
 
 do better than greet him with the little song, Vorwarts 
 Hinan ! They sang it with such truthfulness and delicacy, 
 that he was delighted. The 181 voices sounded so fresh 
 
 and spirited ; the old fellow could not help crying 
 
 Z. 
 
 86. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 27th December, 1814. 
 .... Mt kindest regards to Herr Staatsrath 
 Schulz ; my delight in his essay will be plain from the 
 appended copy of a passage in a letter, which I sent to a 
 friend, immediately after reading through his pamphlet ; 
 perhaps it will better express all that I feel towards him, 
 than I could have done directly 
 
 a. 
 
 Copt. 
 
 .... After all this, I cannot conceal from you, dear 
 Friend, that a great gratification has of late befallen me. 
 I have known for some time past, that Herr Staatsrath 
 Schulz * of Berlin — a superior man in every way — was 
 keenly interested in my Farienlehre, and that he had 
 specially worked out the physiological part, though he 
 only jotted down his remarks, without thinking of im- 
 mediate publication, because he wished first to go deeper 
 into the matter. ■ Now, at my earnest request, he has been 
 kind enough to put forward with great clearness, as a clever 
 man of business, his view of the question, as it now is, and 
 to collect, and make an inventory of the results, as well 
 as of the individual experiences. This is the first time 
 . I have happened to see such a superior man agreeing 
 with my fundamental principles, extending them, building 
 up upon them, adjusting a good deal, supplementing them, 
 and opening up new views. His admirable apergus and 
 deductions, which many a one might envy, justify our 
 entertaining great hopes. The transparency of his course 
 
 * " This was the beginning of an interesting friendship, though 
 letters between Goethe ^nd Schulz did not become frequent until the 
 year 1816." See Lyster's Translation of Diintzer's Life of Goethe, 
 vol. ii. p. 312. 
 
 1 
 
114 Goethe's letters [1814 
 
 is just as clear as the ramification of his method. His 
 close observation of the most subtle phenomena incidental 
 to the subject, his acuteness, without hair-splitting, and, 
 in addition to this, his extensive reading, make it de- 
 pendent upon himself only, to enrich and enhance in 
 value tlie historical part of my work. If I get his con- 
 sent-to the printing of his essay, it will be certain, even 
 in its present shape, as a mere sketch, to produce great 
 effect. 
 
1815.] TO ZELTBR. ilfi 
 
 1815. 
 
 87. — Zeltbe to Gobthb. 
 
 Berlin, Hth April, 1S15. 
 . . . > I AVAIL myself of the opportunity, to send 
 you some autographs of rem.arkable people. And even if 
 you should already have something of theirs in your collec- 
 tion, the compositions are, from a historical point of view, 
 important in themselves ; particularly those of Sebastian 
 Bach, and Kimberger.* In the life of Fasch, you will find 
 an explanation of the piece, headed La Ooorl.f .... 
 
 Z. 
 
 88. — GrOETHE TO ZeLTBB. 
 
 Weimar, 17tli April, 1816. 
 As you, my dear, silent Friend, have opened your 
 mouth at exactly the right moment, I will gladly pardon 
 your remissness hitherto, and send you my best thanks into 
 the bargain. I had already received some intelligent and 
 detailed reports of the performance of IEpvmenides,X but 
 now, in you come with your bold pen, and by dotting the i 
 and crossing the t, for the first time make the writing 
 perfectly legible. 
 
 Everything depends on a play of this kind being given 
 a dozen times in succession. Do but realize the elements, 
 which go to make up such a representation, and you will 
 almost despair of a happy result. 
 
 * Johann Philipp Kirnberger, one of Sebastian Bach's pupils, author 
 of Die Kunst des reinen Satzes. He taught both Fasch and Zelter. 
 
 t One of Emanuel Bach's character-pieces, so called after Karl Fasch, 
 whose name was mispronounced, " Coorl," by an Austrian friend. 
 
 } An allusion to Zelter's graphic account of the performance of Dcs 
 Epimenides Enoachm at Berlin. Goethe wrote this short play, by 
 Iffland's desire, in honour of the return of the King of Prussia to BerUn. 
 It symbolizes Goethe's apathy, at a time which called forth an outbreak 
 of patriotic feeling in Germany. 
 
Il6 Goethe's lettbes [1815. 
 
 1. The work of the Poet. . . . 
 
 2. The CompoBer. . . . 
 
 3. The Orchestra. . . . 
 
 4. Actors and Singers. . . . 
 
 5. Costumes. . . . 
 
 6. Sundries. . . . 
 
 7. Scenery. . . . 
 
 8. A Public. . . . 
 
 How many dozens of tin plates would be wanted, to fuse 
 together the refractory ingredients of such bell-metal ! 
 (See Gellmi, Part II. p. 176.) 
 
 When the play is frequently repeated, it is quite a 
 different matter. Without bellows and flames, without 
 art and intention, there arise the most delicate elective 
 affinities, which, in the pleasantest way, unite those seem- 
 ingly isolated members into a whole ; on the actors' side, 
 more certainty and pliability, acquired by practice, streng- 
 thened by applause, supported by an animated insight into, 
 and a general survey of the whole ; on the spectators' side, 
 acquaintance, custom, favour, prejudice, enthusiasm, and 
 whatever may be the names of all the good spirits, without 
 which, even the Iliad and Odyssey would remain to us but 
 a lifeless frame- work. 
 
 Hence it is, that, with more light-hearted nations, when 
 any piece has once taken hold of them, it can be repeated 
 ad infinitwn, because the actors, the play, and the public 
 come to understand each other, better and better ; and then 
 too, one neighbour stirs up another to go to the Theatre, 
 and the general, everyday talk at last makes it a necessity 
 for everyone to see the novelty. I saw an instance of this 
 in Rome, when an Opera, Bon Juan, (not Mozart's,) was 
 given every evening for a month, an event which so' stirred 
 the city, that the humblest shopkeepers, with kith and 
 kin, kept house in pit and boxes, and no one could exist, 
 without having seen Don Juan roasting in Hades, and 
 the Commendatore floating heavenwards, as a blessed 
 
 spirit It pleased me greatly, that you should have 
 
 held so firmly to the pivot upon' which my play turns, 
 (but, as I hope, without creaking and jarring,) and that 
 you felt it so deeply, — although it is quite in accordance 
 with your nature. Without these fearful chains, the whole 
 
1815.] TO ZELTER. 117 
 
 thing would be a folly. The fact that this instance is 
 proved in wonaen, makes the thing more pardonable, and 
 draws it into the domain of emotion ; however, we will say 
 nothing further about the matter, and leave the result to 
 the gods. 
 
 I will look through Catel's book, one day soon. Gtive 
 my kindest regards to the author. At present, however, I 
 guard myself as much against architecture, as against fire. 
 The older we get, the more must we limit ourselves, if we / 
 wish to be active. If we do not take care, owing to the 
 multitude of external claims, our mind, and our physical 
 powers will evaporate in empty smoke, out of pure sym- 
 pathy, and the necessity of criticism. 
 
 I doubt not you have succeeded in clothing Hans Adami's * 
 body in a tight-fitting jacket ; and I look forward to seeing 
 him parade about in it. I will look out one of my later 
 things for you. I find Orientalizing very dangerous work, 
 for before one is aware of it, the most solid poem slips 
 out of one's hands, like a balloon, and vanishes into air, 
 merely from the rational and spiritual gas with which it 
 fills itself 
 
 Just as I was considering, what to fill up my remaining 
 space with, Herr Mendelssohn came in, bringing with him 
 your kind greeting and gift, — both of them most welcome ; 
 I received him cheerfully, but absently, for just when he 
 came in, I was more than a hundred miles away from the 
 house. The manuscript music is delicious ! I had no 
 specimen of either of the three masters in my collection. 
 My very best thanks ! As we have brought the Berliners 
 to reflect and to make puns, let us stick to it for a time. 
 Remember me very kindly to Herr Staatsrath Schulz. I 
 have studied his treatises again lately ; both they and he 
 have become so much the dearer to me. Now adieu ! May 
 this letter happily inaugurate the communications we have 
 just re-opened ! 
 
 ' The first lyric in the Divan. 
 
118 goithb's lbttbes [1816. 
 
 89. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 (End of May.) 
 
 I SHALL send you a few words at once, in return for 
 your dear letter, so that you may lie kept in the humour 
 to write now and again. First and foremost then, pray 
 let me have some theatrical news, from time to time; 
 for as I am on good terms with Count Briihl, whom I 
 knew as a hoy, and as the success of Epvmenides was owing 
 to his exertions, I should like to do him a favour, and in a 
 general way, to remain on good terms with the Berlin 
 Theatre. If there were only some incitement, very likely 
 I should work again at play-writing for a time, and then, 
 Berlin is, after all, the only place in Germany, for which 
 one has the courage to undertake anything. Owing to the 
 numerous journals and daily papers, the whole of the 
 German stage lies bare before our eyes, and whither can 
 one turn confidingly, when one looks close ? Only speak 
 out, in your own blunt way, as you were always wont, that 
 I may not go on in the dark, and squander my good inten- 
 tions on false undertakings. 
 
 I have made my Proserjpma* the vehicle for everything 
 which modem criticism finds and favours in works of 
 Art : (1) Heroic and landscape decoration ; (2) heightened 
 recitation and declamation; (3) Hamiltonian-Handelian f 
 gestures; (4) change of costume; (6) play of drapery; 
 and — (6) even a tableau for a Finale, representing the realm 
 of Pluto ; all this, accompanied by the music you know of, 
 which serves as welcome spice for this immoderate feast of 
 the eyes. It was received with great applause, and when 
 foreigners come to us, it wiU be a useful little sample, to 
 show what we can do. 
 
 For some time past, I have had just enough inclination, 
 to contribute articles to the Morgenblatt ; and that I may 
 save you from wasting time, looking for them, I will mark 
 the numbers, and should like you to hunt them up. 
 
 * A lyric monodrama, introduced into Der Triumph der Empfindsam- 
 keit. 
 
 f Goethe had seen Lady Hamilton at ^Naples in 1787. See Dit 
 Italianische Beise. 
 
1816. J TO ZJBLTBR. 119 
 
 No. 69. Account of some old treasures of German Art, 
 discovered in Leipzig. 
 
 & > Account of Epimenides Erwachen. 
 76.) 
 85 I 
 
 & > Articles upon the German Theatre. 
 86.) 
 
 They are about to publish Don Oiccio, famous in the secret 
 literature of Italy for the 365 libellous sonnets, written upon 
 him by a clever adversary, and published daily throughout 
 a whole year. 
 
 Then Shakespeare is to be discussed : (a) considered 
 generally as a Poet ; (6) compared with the ancient and 
 with the most modern Poets ; (c) regarded as a Poet for 
 the stage. 
 
 I shall then discuss the Festival, in commemoration of 
 Iffland and Schiller, as arranged by us for the 10th May. 
 
 Also I shall give an account of the Proserpina, and explain 
 more in detail, what I briefly touched upon above, so that 
 a similar, nay, better representation of this little play, may 
 be given in several difBerent Theatres. 
 
 I have been looking over my Oriemtalischer Divowi, in 
 order to send you a new poem, but I now see clearly for the 
 first time, how this kind of poetry drives one to reflection ; 
 for I did not find anything vocal in it, especially for the 
 Liedertafel, for which, after all, it is our main business to 
 provide. For what cannot be sung in company, is in 
 reaUty no song, just as a monologue is no drama. 
 
 I have hidden the Gastmahl der Weisen; if it were to 
 become known, it could not but deeply wound certain 
 individuals, and after all, it is not worth while quarrelling 
 with the world, simply to afford it some amusement. 
 
 I am just now busy with my Italidnische Beise, and par- 
 ticularly with Rome. Fortunately I still have diaries, 
 letters, remarks, and notes of all kinds, so that I can give 
 a perfectly true description, and a graceful romance as 
 well. In this I am greatly assisted by Meyer's sympathy, 
 for he saw me arrive, and start off, and he stayed in Rome, 
 the whole time that I was in Naples and Sicily. Had I not 
 these notes and this friend, I should not dare undertake 
 
120 gobtAe's letters [1815. 
 
 this wort ; for, when once we have become clear aboat 
 anything, how are we to call to remembrance the sweet 
 delusion in which, as in a mist, we hoped and searched, 
 without knowing what we should attain to, or what we 
 might find. Meanwhile I am reading "Winckelmann in 
 the new edition by Meyer and Schulze, who hare im- 
 mensely enhanced the value of his works, inasmuch as 
 here we see what the author has actually accomplished, 
 and also exactly what it is, which after so many years is 
 found to require correction and supplement. Meyer's 
 merits, as editor, are incalculable, and if he makes this 
 work a foundation, and all through his life continues to 
 add to it what he learns, he will have done a great thing 
 for Art and its preservation, for in its present state, it is 
 daily becoming more insecure, owing to the perpetual 
 talking to and fro, and the way in which people bungle. 
 
 His own History of Art, from the earliest, down to the 
 most recent times, has already been sketched from begin- 
 ning to end, and some portions have been worked out in a 
 masterly style. The merits of such men as Eubens, Sem- 
 brandt, &c., have never yet been expressed by anyone with 
 so much truth and energy. One fancies oneself in a gallery 
 of their works : the effects of light and shade and colouring 
 in these admirable artists, speak to ns from the black letters. 
 
 Now do make up your mind to write a History of Music 
 in the same sense ! Tou would hardly be able to resist 
 doing so, were I to read out Meyer's work to you, for only 
 a quarter of an hour. From your letters and conversation, 
 I have already become acquainted with many of your first- 
 rate masters. With the same intelligence, and with the 
 same powers, you would have to begin with an important 
 period, and work forwards and backwards, for the True 
 can be raised and preserved only by its History, and the 
 False can be lowered and destroyed only by its History. 
 
 As for what is false, I met with a remarkable instance 
 lately. A quotation from Winckelmann referred me to 
 the homilies of Chrysostom, for I wanted to see what that 
 Father of the Church had to say about beauty, and what 
 did I find ? A Pater Abraham a Sanota Clara,* who 
 
 • The name in religion of Ulrich Megerle, born in Swabia, 1642, and 
 Chaplain to the Imperial Court at Vienna, 1669-1709. The Capuchin's 
 
1815.] TO ZBLTEE. 121 
 
 has the whole of the grand culture of G-reece behind him, 
 lives amidst the most abject surroundings, and with a 
 " golden mouth," tells his bad public the stupidest stuff, in 
 order to edify them, by means of degradation. Yet how great 
 is one's admiration of the Grreek language and form, even in 
 this repulsive reflection ! I now, however, for the first tipie 
 understand, why our good Christians of modern days prize 
 him so highly : they themselves have to repeat the same 
 twaddle perpetually, and everyone feels that he cannot 
 attain that eloquence G. 
 
 Before I closed this, I again looked through my Divan, 
 and find a second reason, why I cannot send you any poem 
 out of it ; this, however, speaks in favour of the collection. 
 For every individual member is so imbued with the spirit 
 of the whole, is so thoroughly Oriental, referring to Eastern 
 customs, usages, and religion, that it requires to be ex- 
 plained by one of the preceding poems, before it can pro- 
 duce any effect upon the imagination, or the feelings. I 
 did not myself kuow, in what a strange way I had made 
 the whole thing hang together. The first hundred poems 
 are nearly complete ; when I have finished the second, the 
 
 Collection will look graver 
 
 G. 
 
 90. GOETHB TO ZeLTER. 
 
 Weimar, 29th October, 1815. 
 
 .... I HATE not returned empty-handed from my 
 crusade, and ere long, you will receive my printed obser- 
 vations upon Art and Antiquity, in the districts about the 
 Khine and Maine,* with incidental remarks on Science. To 
 be sure, it is not my way to work for the day, but in this 
 instance, I have been so loyally and earnestly challenged to 
 such a duty, that I cannot shirk it. In reality, too, I only 
 
 Sermon in Wallenstein's Lager was modelled upon a sermon of his. 
 Goethe had sent a volume of {is works to Schiller, which accounts for the 
 report that Goethe wrote the Sermon in Wallenstein. See Buchheim's 
 Introduction to Wallenstein. 
 
 * These observations were contained in a Memoir, written for his old 
 Leipzig fellow-student, Hardenberg, and called Von Kunst uTid Alierthum 
 am Bhein und Main. 
 
122 Goethe's letters [1815. 
 
 play the editor, inasmuch as I express the sentiments, 
 wishes, and hopes of intelligent and worthy men. In these 
 departments, as in every other, there is as much goodwill, 
 as confusion and mistrust ; everyone would like to do 
 something, and of course the right thing, and no one 
 understands, that this can only happen when we work 
 unitedly, and all together. 
 
 Now I must tell you, that my Bivan is larger by several 
 members, some of them of the freshest and most youthful 
 kind. It can now be divided into books, according to the 
 different contents ; and there are several vocal things among 
 them, though — in accordance with their Oriental style — ^re- 
 flection prevails in most of them, — as moreover befits the 
 years of the poet. 
 
 Further, the account of my stay in Naples and my journey 
 through Sicily has been pretty thoroughly revised, by means 
 of diaries, letters, and my own memory, and is just going 
 to be copied. The journey as far as Rome was already in 
 train before I left. No one will learn very much from this 
 little volume, but the reader will have a vivid picture of 
 districts, objects, people, and travellers. 
 
 I heard no public musical performances on my journey, 
 that gave me any pleasure. I met with some sympathetic 
 voices, which sounded very agreeable, when accompanied 
 by piano and guitar. I heard Gott und die Bajadere, given 
 with all imaginable beauty and feeling.* — But is the first 
 number of your engraved Songs no longer to be had? I 
 could not get it in Frankfort, though the others were 
 there. They know nothing about you on the Maine, and 
 the Ehine is not acquainted with you, so we have been 
 preaching your Gospel in these districts. In Heidelberg, 
 on the other hand, you are held in the freshest remem- 
 brance. You will, no doubt, allow me to send some of 
 your Canons and Part-Songs there ; I should also like to 
 
 * One of these "sympathetic voices" was that of Marianne Ton 
 Willemer, the poet's favourite and correspondent. Her singing of the 
 Air from Don Giovanni, Gib mir die Hamd, mein Leben, so bewitched 
 Goethe, that he said, she was herself " a little Don Juan." He used to 
 read aloud to her the Persian love-poems, in which he delighted, as well 
 as his own WestostUoher Divan, part of which she inspired. She could 
 have been no mean poetess herself, since she wrote the famous Song, 
 Was bedeutei die Bewegung 1 afterwards set by Mendelssohn. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTBE. 123 
 
 forward the score of Johanna Sebus. They have a society 
 of amateurs, under a clever and ahle conductor.* A well- 
 intentioned young man has started a singing Academy in 
 Frankfort, which I hope to be able to assist, and I wish 
 you would test it. These musicians suffer from the same 
 misfortune as poets, for each one brings forward only his 
 own work ; that which is like him, ajid within his reach. 
 Praulein Hiigel plays Handel's and Bach's Sonatas most 
 admirably, and unfortunately, neither in that province of 
 Art, nor in any other, is there any central point, after which 
 everybody is sighing, since people are only accustomed to 
 
 revolve around themselves 
 
 Briihl has taken the Wolffs away from us, which does 
 not lead one to prejudge his directorship favourably. Of 
 course yon cannot prevent a man from trying to appro- 
 priate to his own use the services of cultivated artists, but 
 it would be better and more profitable, if he would train 
 them himself. Were I as young as Briihl, no chicken 
 should be allowed on my stage, that I had not hatched 
 myself. And now a kind farewell, and do send me a little 
 Song or Canon ! 
 
 . G- 
 
 * The famous Thibaut, author of Ueber Beinheit der Tonhmst, an 
 English version of which, (by Mr. W. it. Gladstone,) entitled Purity in 
 Musical Art, appeared a few years ago. 
 
124 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 1816. 
 
 91.— Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 11th March, 1816. 
 ToTJ are probably right, my dearest Friend, in saying 
 that there is no snch thing as uninterrupted correspondence, 
 unless one gossips ; and as this is not our case, it is perhaps 
 natural, that we should not hear from one another for quite 
 a long time. Then too, the after-results are so hazardous, 
 that one scarcely dares to give them expression, for only 
 very seldom, may we venture to promise applause to con- 
 clusions without premises. 
 
 The presence of Messrs. Schadow and Weber has brought 
 me into closer rapport with Berlin ; for through personal 
 intercourse and friendly talk, even distant conditions can 
 be brought nearer to us. A thousand times have I thought 
 of you, and how you sail, ^wim, bathe, and wade about in 
 such a sea ! 
 
 My little volume about the Rhine and the Maine, Art 
 and Antiquity, will now soon reach you ; I have broken ofE 
 at the thirteenth sheet, like Scheherazade. Had I earlier 
 recognized the importance of these pages, I should have 
 refused the little job altogether ; as it is, I was seduced 
 into it only by degrees, — so let it go its ways ! On the other 
 hand, I must gratefally acknowledge, that had it not been 
 for this pressing necessity, I should never have been able 
 to direct my attention, either to the important question of 
 the preservation of Art throughout the barbaric time, or to 
 the peculiarities of national and provincial restoration. 
 We find in it much that is opposed to our refined sen- 
 suality, and we can make nothing of it, unless we grasp 
 the idea ; even absurdities please us, when we are clear 
 about them. 
 
 My Divam, has grown in bulk and in strength. The style 
 of poetry, which, without further reflection, I have adopted 
 and made use of, has this peculiarity, that, like the Sonnet, 
 
1816.] TO ZELTBE. 125 
 
 it almost resists being sung ; it is also notable enough, that 
 the glory of Orientals is writing, not singing. However, 
 it is a kind of poetry that suits my time of life, mode of 
 thought, experience, and view of things, while it allows 
 one to be as foolish in love-matters, as one can only be in 
 youth. 
 
 Herewith a Song, that can anyhow be sung. And 
 now, my kindest farewell ! 
 
 G. 
 
 Thy heart to fathom, ^ 
 My heart impels me ! \ 
 
 This is my longing, 
 To tell, to tell thee ! 
 Sadly, how sadly, 
 The world looks at me I 
 
 In my thoughts ever 
 My friend lives lonely — 
 No foe, no rival, — 
 His image only ; 
 Like lights of morning 
 A thought rose on me. 
 
 My life I'll give him, 
 To-day, for ever, 
 Its only service 
 Henceforth to love him. 
 I think upon him — 
 My heart lies bleeding! 
 
 Power, — I have no power, 
 Only to love him, 
 As now in silence. — 
 What of the future ? 
 I would embrace him, 
 And, lo ! I cannot ! 
 
 92. — Goethe to Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 26th March, 1816. 
 Indeed you have. had another hard task put upon 
 you; unfortunately, it is ever the same old story, that to 
 live long means as much as to outlive many, and m the 
 end, what is the meaning of it all? A few days ago, 
 the first edition of my Werther came accidentally into 
 
126 Goethe's lettbes [1816. 
 
 my hands, and this long since forgotten song began to 
 resound again in me. But then one cannot understand, 
 how a man could bear to live another forty years in a 
 world, which already, in his early youth, appeared so 
 absurd to him. 
 
 One part of the riddle explains itself by the fact, that 
 every one has some peculiarity in himself, which he pro- 
 poses to develop, whilst allowing it to work on continuously. 
 Now this strange Nature makes fools of us day by day, and 
 so we grow old, without knowing why or wherefore. When 
 I look closely into the matter, it is only the talent im- 
 planted in me, that helps me through all the unsuitable 
 conditions, in which I find myself entangled, by false 
 tendencies, accident, and the adoption of foreign ele- 
 ments 
 
 The course of Art during the Middle Ages, and cer- 
 tain luminous points at the reappearance of pure natural 
 talents, have, I hope, gained through my work. But un- 
 fortunately, the legions of scribblers in Germany will very 
 speedily thrash out my harvest, whatever it may be, and 
 swagger along to the patriotic harvest-home, with bundles 
 
 of straw, as though they were rich corn-sheaves 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 93. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Sunday, 31st March, 1816. 
 Aftee several rehearsals with Orchestra and Chorus, 
 there was a reading rehearsal with music, yesterday evening. 
 Prince Karl of Mecklenburg read the part of Mephis- 
 topheles, and the actor Lemm, provisionally, that of Faust ; 
 the rehearsal was at Prince Kadzivil's,* in the midst of 
 his family-circle. The Princess and her children were pre- 
 sent, the Crown Prince, with his brothers and sisters. 
 Prince George of Mecklenburg, Frau von der Recke, with 
 
 * Prince Eadzivil was one of the seven people, who answered Beet- 
 hoven's invitation to subscribe for the publication of the Mass in D. 
 His music to Faust was brought out by the Singakademie in 1833, 
 shortly after his death ; it was afterwards frequently given at Berlin, 
 and elsewhere in Germany. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTKE. 127 
 
 her friend Tiedge, Frau von Humboldt, and seyeral artists, 
 who are to take part in the representation. 
 
 As a beginning, only those scenes were read, in which 
 none but Faust and Mephistopheles appear. Prince Karl 
 reads this character in a way that leaves little to be de- 
 sired — voice, tone, rhythm, figure, and appearance — all is 
 congruous, even to the cloven foot; what is wanting in 
 modulation and tempo will, I hope, arrange itself ; his de- 
 livery too, won quite universal applause, and the actor 
 jogged by his side, like a donkey next to a horse. 
 
 The effect of the poem upon an almost entirely youthful 
 audience, to whom everything was new and strange, is very 
 remarkable, and they are never tired of wondering that all 
 that is in print ; they go and consult the book, to see if it 
 really stands so. That it is true, they all feel, and it is as 
 if they were inquiring, whether the truth is true. The 
 composer has hit off much to admiration ; the defect con- 
 sists in this, that he, like all artists at the outset of their 
 career, makes main points of what should be secondary. 
 .... The play is to be given in three Parts. The SecondA 
 Part, which we shall soon rehearse, begins with Auerbach's 
 cellar ; I shall continue to let you know all about it. 
 
 Z. 
 
 94. — Zeltek to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 4th April, 1816. 
 .... The bearer of this letter is the banker, 
 Abraham Mendelssohn.* He is the second son of the 
 philosopher, and from the first years of his youth, after his 
 father's death, he has been attached to my house and all 
 its inmates. He is one of the right sort, and as such you 
 will receive him. He has amiable children, and his eldest 
 little daughter could let you hear a thing or two of Sebas- 
 tian Bach. The wife is also a most excellent mother and 
 manager, though unfortunately she is not very strong. 
 The husband is very fond of me, and I keep open bank 
 with him, for in times of universal want, he has grown 
 rich, without damage to his soul. Farewell, my ever be- 
 
 " Father of Felix Mendelssnhn. 
 
128 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 loved ! I shall soon see you again, even if it should be 
 only for a day. 
 
 95. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Sunday, 7th April, 1816, 
 .... Teste ED AT we had a reading rehearsal of 
 Faust, and just as we were about to begin, all the young 
 
 Koyalties announced themselves Count Briihl played 
 
 the poet quite decently. Lemm, the actor, has improved, 
 and came gradually into his part. Prince Karl, however, 
 has deteriorated, and fell into the preaching tone. We had 
 finished the first Act, when the King unexpectedly arrived ; 
 most likely he could not endure home any longer, as his 
 children had all gone off. 
 
 The whole of the first Act was repeated, and the King, 
 who at first, as of old, kept quiet and in the background, 
 after two hours of silence, became sociable, chatty, and 
 
 really amiable 
 
 Z. 
 
 96. — iGOETHE TO ZeLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 14th April, 1816. 
 ToTJE letters, dearest Friend, surprised me most 
 agreeably in my garden, — gave me much to think about, — 
 nay, incited me to a ram.bling conversation in the Far- 
 away. Then came Mendelssohn, and as I was just in the 
 humour, and he was recommended by you, I told him 
 what I should probably have told you ; this I think he 
 deserved, as he talked very intelligently, and in the course 
 of his conversation, discussed many important points in 
 Science, Art, and life. Unfortunately I did not see his 
 people, they stayed only one afternoon ; I should have 
 liked to invite them to breakfast to-day, and to have shown 
 them my goods and chattels. 
 
 I have had a most delightful letter from Staatsrath 
 
 Sohulz. When the Germans study to be more and more 
 
 I universally unsympathetic, and gracelessly reject what they 
 
 ; should grasp with both hands, that individual is in truth 
 
1816.] TO ZELTEE. 129 
 
 celestial, ■who shows a faithful and honest sympathy, and 
 joyfully co-operates with others. Remember me to him. 
 most kindly, when you see him. Seebeck of Niirnberg 
 holds his own admirably, and I must own, that I am 
 greatly delighted, that an old and faithful fellow-labourer 
 should win the prize in Paris, whilst the Germans behave 
 towards us, as if they were staring ghosts. But they shall 
 not get off scot-free; I am only waiting for a fitting oppor- 
 tunity to give it them pretty soundly. 
 
 Amongst our new arrangements in Jena, I intend setting 
 up a complete prismatic apparatus ; no Academy of Sciences 
 has ever thought of doing this hitherto, and I shall take 
 the opportunity of letting them hear plenty about it. Still, 
 in matters of this kind, nothing is to be done vfith vio- 
 lence ; one must wait till an opinion, like an epidemic, 
 fastens on mankind. 
 
 Be sure to go on with your theatrical criticisms. Things 
 must indeed be in a strange state with you in Berlin, if 
 the people cannot master so plain and conventional a play 
 as Olaidgo ; besides, it is a thoroughly German way of doing 
 things, to seek the entrance to a poem or any other work, 
 everywhere, except through the door. I have, through- 
 out my life, had plenty of opportunities for wondering, 
 how it happens, that thoroughly educated persons are ab- 
 solutely incapable of recognizing {esthetic, or higher moral 
 aims. I had rather not have written a single verse, if 
 hundreds of thousands did not read the production, reflect 
 upon it, enlarge upon it, elucidate it, understand it. 
 
 Faust may, in future months, give you many a confused 
 hour. If you go on being as rude as you were to the 
 gloomy Count, that will be something of itself ; people are 
 far too often apt to be callous and stupid in such cases. 
 The incredible conceit, in which young people nowadays 
 grow up, will, in a few years, manifest itself in the wildest 
 follies. 
 
 Look into the Morgenblatt occasionally ; you will there 
 find different contributions of mine, that go into the whole 
 matter, and a good deal you can certainly claim as your 
 own. The fact is, I have a great number of essays lying 
 by me, and I have found some amusement this spring, 
 in touching them up and publishing them : it is the first 
 
130 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 spring — after a long interval — that we have seen ap- 
 proaching, without horror and alarm. 
 
 Last Sunday we celebrated the grand Suldigung's FSte. 
 The honours, distinctions, and compliments bestowed on 
 us, told every sensible man among us very plainly, that he 
 must give himself up for the time being. However, the 
 task allotted to me is the most pleasant one; I have nothing 
 to do, except what I thoroughly understand, and I have 
 only to continue doing what I have done for the last forty 
 years, with ample means, great freedom, and without worry 
 or hurry 
 
 My last empty page I shall fill with a few verses ; you 
 can use them, if you feel inclined. 
 
 G. 
 
 The Public. 
 
 Gossip and gossip, and no redress, 
 
 None at all. 
 We've got you into a pretty mess, 
 In you fall ! 
 To us it's all play. 
 Get out as you may, 
 A6.6<. 
 
 Mr. Ego. 
 
 Talking and talking to set it right, 
 
 Makes it worse. 
 Twaddle and twaddle ! Life so bright 
 Is a curse ! 
 I'm out and away, 
 To me it's all play, 
 Ade! 
 
 <)7. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd May, 1816. 
 I ANSWER your dear letter at once. I am glad that 
 Wolff * has given satisfaction, and glad to know through 
 you, why and wherefore. The Weimar actors are at their 
 
 * Pius Alexander Wolff was one of Goethe's favourite actors. It 
 was he who brought out Tasso in 1807, when, by Goethe's desire, a bust 
 of Wieland, instead of Ariosto, was crowned on the stage. Goethe 
 wrote the lines, beginning Miigi ewr Qruft ihn smken, for his funeral. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTIE. 131 
 
 best when they work together, but I am glad to hear, that 
 even the individual carries away with him something of 
 the whole. 
 
 In August, 1803, two young people, Gruner and WolfE, 
 came here, our company being then absent in Lauchstadt ; 
 I had time and inclination, and felt disposed to make an 
 efEort, to bring these two up to a certain point, before the 
 others returned. I dictated to them the first elements, 
 which, as yet, no one else has thoroughly mastered. Both 
 studied them attentively, and Wolff has never wavered nor 
 swerved from them, so that his hold on Art is secured to 
 him for life. Gruner, at Vienna, has hoisted himself up to 
 the position of a powerful actor, nay, director, and this 
 shows that he too has clung to a certain foundation. Both 
 had come to me with faith and affection, the one abandoning 
 a military career, the other, mercantile pursuits, and neither 
 of them fared badly. A few days ago, when I was sorting 
 some old papers, I found the draft of a letter to Wolff's 
 mother, which has a nice look about it even now. At 
 the same time, I came upon the draft of that catechism, 
 or a h, ah, which, with more pretension, one might also 
 call Euolidio elements. Perhaps these papers may seduce 
 me into thinking the matter over again. They do not go 
 far into the subject, for the company returned, and thpn 
 everything had to become practical. 
 
 In those days, however, we enjoyed our life and our 
 theatrical doings so much, that a part of the company paid 
 me a visit in Jena during the winter, in order to continue 
 our rehearsals. Owing to the snow, the Schnecke was im- 
 practicable, and Ghriiner lost the pamphlet, which he carried 
 about in his pocket as a talisman, but he recovered it some 
 days later, for he sounded an alarm about it in all the pot- 
 houses, and luckily a driver had picked it up. 
 
 When you see Mademoiselle Maas, remind her in a 
 friendly way, of these adventures, for she was one of the 
 party, and got some little amusement out of them. She 
 was a favourite of mine, on account of her great self -pos- 
 session, and charmingly clear recitation ; for that very 
 reason, I was, on one occasion, terribly angry with her 
 during a rehearsal of Tell, because, Heaven knows why, 
 she fell into a lazy way of talking. Ton see, your friendly 
 
132 GOETHl'S LETTEES [1816. 
 
 gossip has made me turn back to earlier time?, when the 
 system which in after times worked on of itself, was worked 
 out purely and correctly. So just now I am living my life 
 in Sicily over again, in my own way, and now I see for 
 the first time, how a ten weeks' sojourn in that country 
 affected me. 
 
 And now, to another text. If, in future, people tell you that 
 I am ill, do not believe them ; if they tell you I am dead, 
 do not think so. As for the last news you heard, no doubt 
 there is something rather odd about it ; therefore give heed. 
 
 The Huldigung's FSte was to have taken place on Palm 
 Sunday, the 7th of April, and thus the key-stone of a new 
 arch was to be laid, after many destructive troubles. On 
 the 2nd of April, I was seized with a strange rheumatic 
 attack, not dangerous, but still very severe, and I was 
 obliged to take to my bed. As far as I could see, it ap- 
 peared almost impossible for me to be in my place on the 
 7th. But happily I recalled to mind one of Napoleon's 
 maxims — TjUmpereur ne cormoit a/utre malad/ie que la mart, — 
 and so 1 said that unless I were dead, I would appear at 
 Court at noon on Sunday. It seems that the doctor and 
 Nature took to heart this despotic saying, for on Sunday, 
 at the given hour, I was standing at my place, on the right, 
 next to the throne, and even at dinner, I was able to do all 
 that was expected of me. Afterwards, however, I retired 
 again, and went to bed, to wait until the categorical Im- 
 perative should send me a mortal challenge again. As yet, 
 all has gone well. I had before this made up my mind to 
 stay at home till Midsummer, as you also are obliged to ; 
 for the empirical forces, which have for long been directed 
 to things without, will now, if God wills, be turned to 
 things within, only empirically too, but we must thank 
 God that it is so. 
 
 But what will you say now, when I tell you, that I too 
 have lately had a severe blow ? Pretty Berka on the Hm, 
 where we spent such a delightful time, in many different 
 ways, with "Wolf and Weber and Duncker ! Picture to 
 yourself, first of all, that pretty Viennese piano, belonging 
 to the Organist Schutz, with the music of Sebastian, Philip 
 Emmanuel Bach, &o. Well, Berka was burnt to the ground, 
 between the 25th and 26th of April. By dint of extraiJr- 
 
1816.] TO ZELTBE. 133 
 
 dinary presence of mind, and the help of kind people, the 
 piano was saved, as well as many other things in the house, 
 in at most seven minutes' time, which is astonishing ; for 
 a tremendous fire, which began at a baker's house, had, by 
 half-past eleven, spread the flames far and wide. All the 
 organist's old pieces by Bach and Handel, which he had 
 got from Kittel of Erfurt, are burnt, and that, merely 
 owing to a stupid accident or arrangement, by which he 
 had transported them from the untidy chamber, in which 
 they had hitherto lain, to a rather distant room, where he 
 could put them in order. 
 
 Of course, all these things are already engraved ; let me 
 know how I could get them from Hartel's in Leipzig, or 
 elsewhere, for I should be glad to give him a little pleasure 
 in this way. Heaven bless copper plate, type, and every 
 other means of multiplying things, so that a good work 
 which has once existed, can never again be destroyed. If 
 you should see Geheimrath Wolf, give him the kindest mes- 
 sages from me, but tell him also that the accursed little 
 Trompeterstmohchen escaped being burnt by the strangest 
 chance, as I happened to have it in the Town ; like a good 
 many other things, it was saved by dispersion. 
 
 Tell me calmly and quietly, what you think of Madame 
 Wolff, when yon see her in some new part, or when you 
 have seen her more frequently ; do the same with regard 
 to him. I cannot be content with any other report but 
 yours ; I myself do not see it so well, for I am either in 
 a productive state, i.e. I insist that he who does not do 
 things quite rightly shall do better, and I feel convinced 
 that he will do better, — or my case is exactly the reverse ; 
 disbelief steps in, and I curse what is done, because I feel 
 ashamed of being able to expect that it might be any better. 
 
 May the moral order of the world preserve you ! 
 
 G. 
 
 98. — Zeltir to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 8tli May, 1816. 
 
 ..... Beethoven has composed a Battle Symphony,* 
 as deafening as he himself is deaf. Now women know to 
 
 * " This Orchestral programme-music," says Sir G. GroTOj " entitled 
 
134 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 a nicety what happens in a battle, though the time has 
 already long gone by for anyone to understand what music 
 
 On Sunday evening, the Battle Symphony was given in 
 the Theatre, and I heard it from the very farthest end 
 of the pit, where all the deafening effect is lost, and yet I 
 was overwhelmed, nay, shattered. The piece is a real 
 whole, the parts of which can be intelligibly divided and 
 connected. The English advance from afar, drums beat- 
 ing ; as they get nearer. Rule Brita/rmia tells us who they 
 are. Similarly, the opposing army moves forward, and is 
 immediately recognized by Marlborough s'en va fen guerre. 
 The fire of cannon and small arms is clearly distinguished 
 on both sides, the orchestral music, which consists of 
 harmoniously connected thoughts, and interests the ear of 
 the listener, works like the storm and tumult of battle. The 
 armies seem to be engaged hand to hand ; furious on- 
 slaughts on the squares and such-like incidents, — the ex- 
 citement growing. One army yields, the other pursues, 
 now vehemently and close at hand, now at a distance. At 
 last there is a lull. Then, as though issuing from the 
 ground, muffled and mysterious, the Air de Ma/rlborough 
 echoes sorrowfully in the' minor key, interrupted by the 
 failing accents of lament and woe. Then the victory of 
 the conquerors is made known by the air of God save the 
 King, and at last, by a complete, vivid, triumphal move- 
 ment. All this hangs really well together, though it can- 
 not be taken in at once, even by a good ear, for yesterday 
 I thought it a rare joke. The performance too was 
 splendid, although twenty additional violins would not 
 have been too many. Vivat Genius ! and the devil take 
 all criticism ! . . . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 Wellington's Victory, or The Battle of Vittoria, is a work conceived on 
 almost as vulgar a plan as the Battle of Fragile, and contains few traces 
 of his (Beethoven's) genius. This however is accounted for by the fact 
 that the piece was suggested by Maelzel the mechanician, a man of un- 
 doubted ability, who knew the public taste far better than Beethoven 
 did." 
 
1816.] to zbltee. 136 
 
 99. — Goethe to Zeltbb. 
 
 Jena, 21st May, 1816. 
 .... I AM very glad that you approve of my 
 Epilogue to Essex.* Madame Wolff begged me for a con- 
 clusion ; I did not wish, to get rid of it with mere phrases, 
 and so I made a study of the' history and the novel, upon 
 which the play is founded. I might certainly just as well 
 have written a new tragedy, as this Epilogue ; so no wonder, 
 if it was full of matter. And if you bear in mind, that 
 it was written during the three days of the battle of 
 Leipzig, many a prophetic line will seem to you of deeper 
 significance 
 
 A strange confusion presents itself, when one looks into 
 the political and moral imbroglio of the world of Art, 
 manufactures, and science : all sorts of advantages and 
 disadvantages in the various branches, at one and the same 
 time. Everything that is undergoing extension and en- 
 largement, excellent ! Everything that requires depth and 
 unity, near its destruction. 
 
 I was very glad to get your report of Beethoven's Battle. 
 Those are the advantages of a large city, which we go 
 
 without 
 
 G. 
 
 100. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 8th June, 1816. 
 .... When I tell thee, thou sterling, and much- 
 tried son of earth, that my dear little wife has in these days 
 left us, you will know what this means.f 
 
 G. 
 
 * A play by Banks and Dyk. The lines in Goethe's Epilogue : — 
 
 r " Man must experience, be he who he may, 
 I One last success and one last fatal day." 
 
 seem to point to Napoleon, 
 t On the day of his wife's death, Goethe wrote these lines : — 
 
 ' " O Sun, that strir'st in vain 
 Dark clouds to cross ! 
 This is my life's whole gain. 
 To weep her loss." 
 
/ 
 
 136 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 101. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 22nd July, 1816. 
 
 .... BEroEE leaving, I shall send a copy of your 
 songs to Offenbach, for Andre. I am greatly pleased, that 
 my sombre Byzantine derivation * could attract you ; 
 ■without some such foundation and derivation, all criticism 
 is tomfoolery, and even with it, nothing is done, for it still 
 requires a whole lifetime of observation and action ; there- 
 fore, to no one would I more willingly hand over the surface 
 of the earth, than to the bungler, who with complacent 
 cheerfulness demcmds indulgence, with apparent earnestness, 
 • desires a candid aritiaisTn, and with modest pretension, 
 wants to he thought a good deal of. May my Commentary 
 show its gratitude to your text ! 
 
 I have lately met with much kindness and affection. 
 Friends of my youth, not seen for twenty-five years, and 
 now elderly men, came unexpectedly to see me, and were 
 glad to find many things in their old places, and much that 
 had progressed, progressing further. On the evening of the 
 20th, when I was repelled with a protest, I found Chladni, 
 ■who is gaining great credit, by his thorough and arduous 
 study of meteoric stones and figures of ^und. He is working 
 for a time, when men will once m.ore rejoice to learn from 
 others, and gratefully make use of what they, by the sacri- 
 fice of their lives, have gained, more for others than for 
 themselves. Nowadays, when one speaks, even to eminent 
 men, of something which they ought to learn through tra- 
 dition, they assure us, that they have not yet had time to 
 examine it. 
 
 May God grant you less learned scholars, so that some- 
 thing of your virtues may remain upon the earth ; but the 
 others, who place themselves on a level with the highest, 
 while in reality they are grovelling on the lowest steps, 
 , worshipping the semblance — leave them, I beseech you, in 
 I their self-complacency, for it would be a sin to break up 
 their world. 
 
 Properly speaking, one ought not to return, after having 
 
 * See Letter 102. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTfiR. 137 
 
 departed this life ; however, this time I succeeded in doing 
 it again, the difEerence being only that of a few hours. 
 Still it is strange, how once more life clutches hold of 
 one instantly, and — just because time was so urgent, and 
 they thought to lose me again directly, I experienced and 
 effected as much as I usually do in weeks. 
 
 Things are looking quite cheerful in my household. 
 Augiist, as you know, enters very intelligently into every- 
 thing, and we have, in a few hours, laid the foundation 
 for our next winter's entertainments. I have been so 
 helped with my chemistry and physics, that I do not 
 know whether I ought to regret not being able to get to 
 
 Wiirzburg this evening 
 
 G. 
 
 102. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Tennstedt, 9tli August, 1816. 
 .... OuE Bochus Fest * of 1814 is as good as 
 finished ; it is to enliven the second number. I should 
 like to submit it to you, that it may be quite complete. 
 Some few things may have escaped me. 
 
 I am very glad you adopt so cordially my derivation of 
 modern from ancient Art. I am myself convinced that I 
 have laid a good foundation ; your parallel with music is 
 
 very welcome 
 
 G. 
 
 103. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Tennstedt, 28th August, 1816. 
 Your dear letter came yesterday at the right time, 
 that I might enjoy it to-day, and have a chat with you. 
 I am keeping this birthday in special solitude. Hofrath 
 Meyer, who stayed with me for a month, and Geheimrath 
 Wolf, who looked in for a day and a half, went away early 
 this morning, and so I am left to myself. 
 
 * A sketch of the Festival of St. Rochus at Bingen, which Goethe had 
 witnessed, in company with Zelter, and Cramer, the famous mineralogist. 
 
138 sobthe's letters [1816. 
 
 These two men, each with great gifts, are widely difEerent 
 to live with. The former, though quite as certain of his 
 subject as the latter, will never spoil a party, because he 
 knows how to keep silence, and how to lead ; the latter, on 
 the other hand, is, in the strangest way, given to con- 
 tradiction, for he obstinately gainsays every remark that 
 is made, nay, every established fact, which puts one into a 
 state of desperation, even though one is prepared for it. 
 This ungracious manner grows upon him, year by year, 
 and makes his society, which might otherwise be so in- 
 structive and profitable, useless and intolerable ; nay, one 
 ends by becoming infected with the same madness, and 
 thinking it pleasant to say the reverse of what one believes. 
 
 One can readily imagine, how admirably this man must 
 have acted as a teacher in former years, when he rejoiced 
 in being thoroughly positive about things 
 
 I have read with pleasure your article on Mesdames 
 Catalani, Milder, and Mara ; people never understand, 
 that beautiful hours, like beautiful talents, must be enjoyed 
 on the wing. 
 
 Tou will already have seen from the newspapers, how 
 absurdly the Leipzigers have behaved at this juncture.* 
 I think we shall be driven to preserve God's gifts in 
 spirits, for such an accursed set of people, in order that 
 when an opportunity occurs, they may compare and classify 
 them. 
 
 The ancient Art of the Netherlands, as you have seen it 
 at Heidelberg, will be a great gain to you, just because you 
 do not wish to master it. Read my pamphlet again, and 
 yet once again, now that you have seen the thing itself. 
 I did not wish to settle the matter ; for who can and dare 
 do this ? I know too, that no one is altogether satisfied 
 with me; but this I know also, that the understanding 
 can here find a way into the wood. 
 
 1 have had reason lately to look into Teutonic poetry, 
 and, as is my wont, I cannot resist taking some steps at 
 once. If in doing this, I can seize upon any ballads for 
 you, that will be my greatest reward. I would also gladly 
 
 * Referring to a scandalous criticism on Catalan!, which appeared in 
 the Leipzig newspaper. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTEE. 139 
 
 render some service to the subject itself, but to me, the 
 most sorrowful part of it is, that the Germans do not 
 always clearly know, whether they are carrying home full 
 
 wheat-sheaves, or bundles of straw 
 
 G. 
 
 104. — GOETHB TO ZeLTBK. 
 
 Weimar, September, 1816. 
 Last time you found me in a melancholy state, and 
 now I must sadden you. The enclosed letter contains the 
 news of a great misfortune,* and my only comfort is to 
 know you near me, and to feel that I am prepared to share 
 your troubles with you. 
 
 G. 
 
 105. — Goethe to Zblteb. 
 
 Weimar, 14th October, 1816. 
 .... Herewith the new copy of my Pflcmzen- 
 Meia/norphose ; the missing part I have had written out, 
 for it might probably be difficult to find it in Berlin. If, 
 in your leisure hours, you should read the little work again, 
 look upon it merely as symbolical, and always imagine to 
 yourself some other kind of vitality, developing progres- 
 sively out of itself. I have again looked into Linnaeus' 
 writings lately, in which he founds the science of botany, 
 and I now see very clearly, that I too have used them 
 only symbolically, that is, I attempted to transfer the same 
 method and style of treatment to other subjects, thereby 
 acquiring an organ, with which a great deal may be 
 
 done 
 
 G. 
 
 * Tliis refers to the death of Zelter's little daughter, Cliirchen, which 
 took place at Berlin, during Zelter's absence at Weimar. 
 
140 Goethe's letters [1816. 
 
 106. — GoETHi TO Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 7th November, 1816. 
 
 .... Truly not till we are old, do we know what 
 we met with in yoath. Once for all, we learn and compre- 
 hend nothing ! All that affects ns is but incitement, and, 
 God be praised, if anything does but stir in response ! I 
 have again been reading Linnaeus lately, and am amazed 
 at this extraordinary man. I have learned any amount 
 jfrom him, only not botany. Barring Shakespeare and 
 Spinoza, I do not know that any dead writer has had such 
 ! an effect upon me. 
 
 It is strange, but quite natural, that people should 
 speculate on our last days as on Sibylline leaves, having 
 coldly and impiously allowed a bonfire of the time, that 
 went before. — I have pressing and tempting invitations to 
 the Rhine, of which you have probably heard, as people 
 there seem to consider it quite a settled matter. But what 
 is all that to me ? I own to perceiving the good effect of 
 my few summers on the Rhine and Maine, for, after all, I 
 • merely preached St. John's Epistle, " Little children, love 
 one (mother," and that failing, "Live and let live." And 
 you will approve of my saying, that if this heavenly 
 message should to some extent take hold of your Nineveh, 
 you would become quite different people, without being 
 more or less than you are. 
 
 ( But to what end is the outlay of days and hours in direct 
 
 f personal exertion ? I will rather, from my quiet, un- 
 molested abode, dictate and copy so much, and print, and 
 let things lie, for publication abroad or for keeping at 
 home, so that everyone, as you very rightly feel, may be 
 silent as to the source from whence he gets thela, and that 
 
 ' anyhow the whole of humanity may be bolstered up a little. 
 , All the tomfooleries about pre- and post-occupations, 
 
 I plagiarisms and half purloinings, are perfectly clear to 
 
 A • me, and I think them silly. For what is in the air, and 
 
 ' what the age demands, may suddenly enter into a hundred 
 
 people's heads at once, without anyone having borrowed 
 
 from the other. But here let us stop, for in the dispute 
 
 about priority, as in that about legitimacy, no one possesses 
 
1816.] TO ZELTBR. 141 
 
 a prior claim, nor one that is more rightful, than he who 
 can preserve himself. 
 
 If Isegrimm * goes on telling of his absurd behaviour 
 towards me, it points to a bad conscience; he will not 
 report, how bestially I replied to it. Luckily or unluckily, 
 I had taken more glasses of Burgundy than I ought to 
 have done, so that I too went beyond bounds. Meyer, who 
 is always composed, was sitting near, and felt rather uneasy 
 at the aSair. 
 
 It was on the night of the 27th of August, and I had 
 already formed a friendly plan of celebrating my birthday 
 on the 28th with this friend, who had arrived unexpectedly. 
 It chanced that Meyer had to leave in the morning, and, 
 although unwillingly, I allowed that excellent unbearable 
 to drive off, and spent the 28th of August pleasantly, alone. 
 That man, steeped in contradiction, would, in honour of 
 my fete-day, have ended by maintaining that I had never 
 been born. 
 
 All this, however, will come home to him, and in the 
 end, he will not know what to do with himself. Herder, 
 too, was presumptuous enough to carry youthful follies of 
 this kind over into old age, and at last became almost 
 desperate about it. Examine yourself, and see if suchf 
 stuff is to be found in you ; I do so every day. One must ' ^ 
 not swerve in oneself, not even a hair's breadth, from the 
 highest maxims of Art and life ; but in empiricism, in the 
 movement of the day, I would rather allow what is mediocre 
 to pass, than mistake the good, or even find fault with 
 it 
 
 I have again revised my Bochus-FesUval, and had it copied 
 out ; it has gained in definiteness and brilliancy. Unless 
 one imitates the painters, who put on more washes again, 
 the more they stipple, detaching and once more re-uniting 
 the objects, nothing can come of such things. 
 
 The first essay of the second issue will create a mighty 
 noise ; it is called Neu-Deutsche, frormn-patriotische Kunst, 
 
 Tours, 
 
 G. 
 
 • F. A. Wolf. See Note to Letter 121. 
 
142 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1816. 
 
 Weimar, November 7th, 1816. 
 
 .... Please send me the books nnfranked. In fact 
 no one need scruple to send me anything in this way, as 
 I have the freedom of the post, which I prefer to the 
 freedom of the press, though I occasionally avail myself of 
 that also. 
 
 More ere long ! Generally speaking, goodness and excel- 
 lence may accrue to many things, if cultivated men club 
 together, to act constitutionally. We Germans stand 
 pretty high, and have no reason whatever for allowing our- 
 selves to be driven about, hither and thither, by the wind. 
 
 All good spirits praise the Lord God ! 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 107. — Goethe to Zeitee. 
 
 Weimar, 14th November, 1816. 
 In order that our friendly and animating discussion 
 may not come to a standstill, I send you a few words, with 
 reference to your proposal to write a Cantata for the 
 Reformation Jubilee. It would, I suppose, best shape 
 itself on the lines of Handel's Messiah, a work into which 
 you have penetrated so deeply. 
 
 As the leading idea of Lutheranism rests on a very 
 dignified foundation, it gives a fine opportunity for poetical, 
 as well as musical treatment. Now this basis rests on the 
 decided contrast between the Iicm and the Oospel, and 
 secondly, upon the accommodation of such extremes. And 
 now, if in order to attain a higher standpoint, we substitute 
 for those two words, the expressions Necessity and Freedom, 
 with their synonyms, their remoteness and proximity, you 
 see clearly, that in this circle is contained everything that 
 can interest mankind. 
 
 And thus Luther perceives in the Old and New Testa- 
 ments, the symbol of the great and ever-recurring order of 
 the world. On the one hand the Law, striving after love, 
 and on the other, love, striving back towards the Law, and 
 fulfilling it, though not of its own power and strength, but 
 through faith ; and that too, by exclusive faith in the 
 Messiah, proclaimed to all, — all powerful. 
 
1816.] TO ZELTBK. 143 
 
 Thus briefly, we are convinced, that Iiutheranism can 
 never be united with the Papacy, but that it does not 
 contradict pure reason, so soon as reason decides upon 
 regarding the Bible, as the mirror of the world ; which 
 indeed it should not find difficult. 
 
 To express these ideas in a poem, adapted to music, 
 I should begin with the thunder on Mount Sinai, with the 
 Thou shalt, and should conclude with the Resurrection of 
 Christ, and the Thou wilt ! 
 
 For the further illustration of my plan, I will add the 
 successive order, in which the whole should be arranged. 
 
 First Part. 
 
 1. The giving of the Law on Mount Sinai. 
 
 2 . The warlike, pastoral life, as described in the Books of 
 
 Judges, Bruth, &c. 
 
 3. The consecration of Solomon's Temple. 
 
 4. The break up of the worshippers, who are driven to 
 
 the mountains and hill-tops. 
 6. The destruction of Jerusalem, followed by the Babylonish 
 
 captivity. 
 6. Prophets and Sibyls, announcing the Messiah. 
 
 Second Part. 
 
 1. St. John in the wilderness, taking up the Proclamation. 
 
 2. The recognition by the Three Kings. 
 
 3. Christ appears as a Teacher, and draws the multitude 
 
 to Him. Entry into Jerusalem. 
 
 4. At the approach of danger, the multitude disperses ; His 
 
 friends fall asleep ; His sufBerings on the Mount of 
 Olives. 
 
 5. The Resurrection. 
 
 On comparing these two parts, the first seems to be in- 
 tentionally longer, and has a decided central point, which 
 however is not wanting in the second either. 
 
 In the First Part, numbers 1 and 5 are parallel with 
 each other ; Sinai and the Destruction, the time of the 
 Judges, and the service of Baal ; numbers 2 and 4, idyllic, 
 
144 goethb's lbttbes [1816. 
 
 enthusiastic, the consecration of the Temple as the highest 
 climax, &c. 
 
 In the Second Part, in numbers 1 and 5, the dawn pre- 
 ceding the sunrise would be expressed in gradually ascend- 
 ing strains. Numbers 2 and 4 stand in contrast. Number 
 3, the entry into Jerusalem, might express the unconstrained 
 and pious joy of the people, in the same way as the conse- 
 jration of the Temple expresses the princely, priestly 
 limitation of the Divine worship. 
 
 Thousands of other situations will occur to you at the 
 first glance. These things must not be connected histori- 
 cally, but lyrically ; everyone knows the whole, and will 
 gladly allow himself to be transported from one region 
 into the other, on the wings of poetry. 
 
 The text should consist of passages from the Bible, 
 well-known evangelical hymns, interspersed with what 
 has been written in later times, and whatever else can be 
 found. Luther's own words could hardly be made use of, 
 as the good man is thoroughly dogmatic and practical ; 
 so also is his enthusiasm. But, after all, it is your business 
 to look into the writings themselves. Above all things, 
 read his preface to the Psalms, which is quite inestimable. 
 Further, his prefaces and introductions to the other Biblical 
 books. Probably you will there come across applicable 
 passages, and at the same time, succeed in thoroughly 
 grasping the meaning of the whole doctrine, the gift of 
 which we propose to commemorate. 
 
 Perhaps after what has been said above, this is the place 
 to add a few words concerning Catholicism. Soon after 
 its first origin and promulgation, the Christian religion 
 lost its original purity through heresies, rational and irra- 
 tional. But as it was called upon to check and control 
 barbarous nations, and morally corrupted people, harsh 
 means were necessary; they did not want docteiaes, but 
 service. The one Mediator between the Highest God of 
 Heaven and earthly men was not enough, &c. as we all 
 know ; and thus there arose a kind of heathenish Judaism, 
 which exists, and makes its influence felt, up to the present 
 day. All this had to be revolutionized in men's minds, for 
 which reason Lutheranism refers itself solely to the Bible. 
 Luther's conduct is no secret, and now that we are about 
 
1816.] TO ZBLTBE. 145 
 
 to commemorate tim, we cannot do so in the right way, 
 nnless we acknowledge his merit's, and describe what he 
 achieved, both in his own day, and for those that came after 
 him. This Festival shonld be given in such a manner, that 
 every right-minded Catholic 'should be able to join in its 
 celebration. Of this, however, more anon. If my plan 
 pleases you, erect something for yourself, and tell me about 
 it, and I will join. So much, if it be not too much, for 
 to-day ! The Weimar Friends of Art are similarly actuated, 
 in their preparations for the monument they have already 
 designed. We are making no secret of the matter, and 
 hope at all events to contribute our share. 
 
 G. 
 
 108. — Goethe to Ziltek. 
 
 Weimar, lOth December, 1816. 
 YoTJE little Song has arrived ; we thank you heartily 
 for what you have done so well. If the melody is varied 
 to suit the text, as you have indicated, it cannot fail to be 
 very effective. In return, I send you the scheme for the 
 grand Cantata, further developed ; may it come into full 
 flower with you ! I have kept a copy of it 
 
 The composer must accurately weigh the relations of aU 
 the different parts to one another, and reserve for himself 
 continuous Greseendos, which he can get by variation, start- 
 ing from the thunderings on Mount Sinai. 
 
 Taking Handel's Alexander's Feast as my guide, instead 
 of giving but the one character of Timotheus, as he appears 
 in that work, I have introduced several speakers, who may 
 be imagined, now merely reciting, now singing, now com- 
 peting -v^fith the Chorus, just as may be considered fit in 
 the course of the action. 
 
 The speakers are mostly men, but should it be necessary, 
 women may be substituted. What I particularly wish to 
 know is, how the leading parts are to be distributed, and in 
 what passages one should introduce regular Airs, for which 
 Biblical and other pious sayings might then be adapted, in 
 such a way, as to be recognizable, and yet at the same time 
 more convenient rhythmically. 
 
 L 
 
146 GOBTHB's LBTTIES [1816. 
 
 First Fart. 
 Symphony. 
 
 At the end, thunder on Mount Sinai. 
 An pager semi-chorus, (the ^ people,) is bent on seeing 
 
 closely what goes on. 
 The Levites, (a semi-chorus,) restrain them. 
 The people are thrust back from Sinai, and worship their 
 
 God. 
 Aaron, in his speech on the apostacy to the golden calf, 
 
 inaugurates the scene. 
 The people humble themselves, and receive the Law. 
 Speaker. (Joshua.) 
 March through the Wilderness. 
 Conquest of the land. 
 
 Warlike Shepherd- Choruses, similar to those in my Pamdora. 
 Speaker, (Samuel,) explains the fluctuation of the people, 
 
 between Priesthood and Monarchy. 
 Steadfastness of the king and nation in their conception 
 
 of the only national God. 
 Solomon's accession to the throne. 
 Choruses of women. 
 
 The Shulamite, the best beloved, in the distance. 
 Choruses of Priests. 
 Consecration of the Temple. 
 Choruses of all kinds. 
 Speaker. (Elijah.) 
 
 Preparing the way for the apostacy to Baal. 
 Service on Mountain-heights, and in the open air. 
 Choruses of the people, who are returning to the pleasant- 
 ness of their earlier and freer open air life. 
 Mirthful festivity, less religiosity. 
 Choruses of priests of the Baal type, imposing from their 
 
 harshness and roughness. 
 Speaker. (Jonas.) Threats, prophesying the coming of 
 
 great hordes of enemies. 
 Approach of the enemy. 
 Anxiety. 
 
 Downfall of the kingdom, violent. 
 Captivity. Lovely and melancholy. 
 Speaker, (Isaiah,) predicting salvation and future happiness. 
 
1816.] TO ZBLTBB. 147 
 
 Choruses, accepting the prediction gratefully, but in an 
 
 earthly sense. 
 Choruses of Prophets and Sibyls, pointing to the spiritual 
 
 and eternal. 
 Triumphant Finale. 
 
 Second Part. 
 Symphony. 
 Sunrise. 
 
 Loveliness of the early morning. 
 Rural, not pastoral. 
 Expanse of solitude. 
 Speaker. (St. John.) 
 He receives the promise. 
 He beholds the star of the Nativity. 
 As the morning star. 
 
 Ushering in the approach of the Three Kings. 
 Procession of the Three Kings. 
 
 There is nothing contradictory in Janissary music being 
 used here, for of course it came to us from the other side 
 of the Oxns. It would be specially appropriate on the 
 arrival of the Third King, who is always represented as 
 something of a barbarian. 
 
 (This scene must needs be decidedly dramatic, for the 
 sake of variety.) 
 
 The Kings vanish in the distance. 
 
 Speaker. (Christ.) 
 
 He appears as a Teacher. 
 
 Chorus attentive, but hesitating. 
 
 His teaching becomes more elevated. 
 
 The people throng around Him and applaud, but always in 
 
 an earthly sense. 
 Christ elevates His teaching to the spiritual level. 
 The people misunderstand Him more and more. 
 Entry into Jerusalem. 
 Speakers. (Three Apostles.) 
 Fear of danger. 
 
 Christ consoling, strengthening, and admonishing. 
 Alone, in anguish of soul. 
 The extreme agony. 
 
148 goethb's letters [1816. 
 
 Speaker. (Evangelist.) 
 
 Brief mention of the physical suffering. 
 
 Death. Resurrection. 
 
 Chorus of Angels. 
 
 Chorus of the terrified watchmen. 
 
 Chorus of women. 
 
 Chorus of the disciples. 
 
 Everything earthly dies away, and the spiritual rises higher 
 and higher, until it reaches to the Ascension, and Immor- 
 tality. 
 
1817.] TO ZKLTBR. 149 
 
 1817. 
 
 109. — GrOETHB TO ZeLTER. 
 
 Weimar, Ist January, 1817. 
 
 .... "With the New Tear comes the announcement 
 
 of my son's marriage with the elder Franlein von Pogwisch ;* 
 
 it is the wish of both the young people, and I have nothing 
 
 to say against it. Court and Town sanction their union, 
 
 which will found some very pleasant social relations 
 
 Farewell, and do not omit, from time to time, to set your 
 8 wan and bustard quills in motion for my sake. 
 
 Or. 
 
 110. — Zbltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 8th January, 1817. 
 
 .... TouE letter of New Year's Day contains 
 delightful New Tear's news. The marriage of your good 
 August with a girl, who is popular and beloved, both at Court, 
 and in the country, may and must make you happy too. 
 
 Here comes the young wifeling, and strokes the old gen- 
 tleman's beard, and tickles him behind the ear, slinks ofB 
 at the right moment, and tastes the soup, peeps into 
 comers, and flicks away the dust with her finger, looks out 
 for the weather, goes to the stable, orders the carriage to 
 be brought round, turns the old fellow out into the sun- 
 shine, gives him a good airing, packs him back again into 
 the chaise, and settles his cloak straight, while at home — 
 there stands the soup in friendly expectation, and it's 
 " Papa " here and " Papa " there, and wherever things go 
 
 * Ottilie von Pogwisch had, as a child, delighted Goethe with her 
 singing, at his private concerts, and he hoped hy this marriage to 
 reclaim his son, who already showed signs of the dissolute tendency, 
 which eventually ruined him. Goethe was very fond of Ottilie ; " when 
 he was in Jena, she had to write to him every week ; so too he wrote 
 to her." CSee Diintzer's Charlotte von Stein.) 
 
150 goethb's lbttees [1817. 
 
 a little bit wrong or awry, there she steps qniefcly in, 
 once more restoring the magnetic force of happy union. 
 
 My love to yonr dear boy, and his darling ; he may reckon 
 on my warmest sympathy. His happiness is in his own 
 hands, and for his prosperity — may the gods be favourable, 
 
 and no demon disturb it 
 
 Z. 
 
 111. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 23rd February, 1817. 
 .... Peaisb and gratitude to you for the good 
 words, with which you so loyally honour Iphigenie ! * 
 My Italdamsche Beise shows how strangely the second 
 edition came about. It is there noticed, that the ancient 
 Tragedians have treated this subject, and it could not fail 
 to charm me, when I had become so much at home in the 
 house of Atreus. 
 
 A, cyclical treatment has many advantages, only we 
 modems do not know exactly how to manage it 
 
 I have again brought Mahomet f upon the stage, as a 
 means for practising our first grammatical exercises. Things 
 look strange enough, — as regards myself, they are as favour- 
 able as possible. In the actual artistic, technical, and 
 economical details, the arrangement could not be better; 
 but at the end, a stupid piece of mismanagement excited 
 general indignation, and an explosion was inevitable.! I 
 expected it, and thought I should get quit of the whole 
 business ; instead of which, I felt myself bound to help in 
 supporting the rotten edifice. This is quite possible, and 
 easy for me, as my son has been associated with me in the 
 Management, and I exercise unlimited power in the art- 
 department, without being worried by collateral matters. 
 In a short time, everything will look different, and if I 
 continue up to Midsummer, doing what I have done during 
 the last three weeks, I shall be able to go forth into the wide 
 
 * In a previous letter, Zelter had praised the altered version of 
 
 + Goethe's Translation of Voltaire's Mahomet, 
 i See the end of this Letter. 
 
1817.] TO ZELTBE. 151 
 
 •world, and the Theatre will gain more from this, than the 
 Athenians did, from Solon's laws and departure 
 
 To fill up the empty space, I will tell you in confidence, 
 that for quite a fortnight, day and night, (when the latter 
 means a great deal with me,) I have been busy with a piece 
 of work, which you would not credit me with. It is this. 
 I am revising Kotzebue's Schiitzge/ist. They had very 
 stupidly given the piece in extenso, on the Grand Duchess's 
 birthday. It lasted till half -past ten o'clock ; the Court and 
 the Town protested against its reproduction. But as the 
 motives of this piece of patchwork are still interesting to 
 some extent, and exactly what the people like, I set to work 
 at it, and became the protecting spirit of The Protecting 
 Spirit. It now holds its place in our repertoire, and by 
 this alone I feel myself richly rewarded for my trouble. 
 
 Farewell, and write soon. 
 
 Tours, 
 Or. 
 
 112. — Goethe to Zbltbb. 
 
 Jena, 29th May, 1817. 
 .... SiNCB Jena revived again, I have had many 
 interesting experiences in the natural history department, 
 and, like Bzekiel, I am utterly amazed to see the old bone- 
 field suddenly stirred up to life. Before Midsummer, I 
 expect to be able to publish a Number, consisting of twelve 
 sheets, and shall let my old guards of the sovereignty of 
 Nature march up in a series of columns. All this I could 
 do the more calmly, that the Second Part of my Bhein vmd 
 Main, which is worth some fugitive productions, was on its 
 way to you. 
 
 The manifestos of war and peace therein contained will 
 be ceaselessly attacked. I have not much more time to be 
 sincere, — therefore let us make use of it ; the aspect of things 
 is really too foolish, when we, from our own standpoint, dis- 
 tinctly see what incredible advantages and privileges the cen- 
 tury has, what admirable individuals are at work in it, and 
 how, nevertheless, everything is in a state of confusion, 
 one sphere of activity destroying the other, so that every 
 person I speak to individually, seems reasonable, but when 
 regarded relatively, mad. This goes so far, that I some- 
 
152 goethb's' lbttbes [1817. 
 
 times seem to myself to have two natures, and do not 
 rally from this feeling of doubt, till I converse with per- 
 sons, who are at home in their own province, both theo- 
 retically and practically. And in an Academy such as ours 
 was and is, these are always to be found. 
 
 As I have now moved into a pretty, cheerful Garden- 
 house, the second Part of my ItaMdmsche Reise will be 
 taken iu hand next, of course with the old motto, " I too 
 was bom iu Arcadia." This Italy is so hackneyed a coun- 
 try, that were it not that I see myself reflected in it, as in 
 a youth-restoring mirror, I would rather have nothing at 
 aU to do with it. 
 
 These are my present pursuits, though at the end of May, 
 and in this loveliest of garden-dwellings, I am freezing in a 
 comfortless fog, and for the first time thoroughly under- 
 stand a huge stove of the year 1661, in a fairly sized room. 
 After all, what clever fellows our ancestors were ! . . . . 
 
 G. 
 
 113. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Jena, 16th December, 1817. 
 .... I AM living between Weimar and Jena ; at both 
 places, I have work which gives me pleasure. In Jena, I can 
 actually work and learn at the same time ; natural science, 
 especially chemistry, is so vigorous, that one gets young 
 again most pleasantly, seeing that one finds one's earliest 
 forebodings, hopes, and 'wishes realized, and at the same 
 time, vouchers for the best and highest to which one can 
 raise oneself in thought. My next number of Natwrlehre 
 will, I hope, supply you with much that is symbolic of your 
 own kind and benevolent intentions. 
 
 In this innocent way, I live my quiet life, and allow the 
 horrible smell of the Wartburg fire,* at which all Germany 
 is taking offence, to pass off; it would, by this time, 
 have evaporated here, had it not been driven back by the 
 North Bast wind, and smothered us a second time. 
 
 • An allusion to the patriotic Festival, celebrated in 1817, by the 
 Bmrschenschafthr, at the Wartburg. (See Buchheim's edition of 
 Heine's Bosa, pp. 180, 294.) 
 
t 
 
 1817.] TO ZELTEE. 153 
 
 In suoli cases, the individual person who suffers from the 
 universal folly, must be allowed to say with some self-com- 
 placency, that even if he did not foresee, he felt all this 
 beforehand, and that, with regard to those points, which had 
 become clear to him, he not only advised against, but also 
 advised in favour of, advised indeed the very things which 
 everyone wishes he had done, when the business goes wrong. 
 This justifies my impassibility, for which reason, I have — 
 like the Epicurean gods — enveloped myself in a quiet cloud ; 
 would that I could draw it more closely about me, and 
 make it more and more dense and impenetrable 
 
 A work which the Grand Duke brought with him from 
 Milan, with reference to the Last Supper of Leonardo da 
 Vinci, has taken great hold of me. The engraving by 
 Morghen is of course often to be met with in Berlin ; and 
 even though you should happen to know it already, take 
 another look at it, and examine it with respectful attention. 
 Tou will then find it deeply affecting, when you hear from 
 me all the particulars, — what was the origin of the picture, 
 how it was thought out, composed, elaborated, and finished, 
 as a wonder of the world ; again, how it faded away at once, 
 was neglected, injured, restored, and by this very restora- 
 tion, utterly destroyed. Further, you will be glad to find, 
 that the Milanese are still deserving of honour, for their 
 veneration of this corpse, and the way in which they pre- 
 serve and keep alive the traces of its remembrance. And 
 having got thus far, and hoping for a speedy reply, I will 
 only add kind greetings to friends. 
 
 114. — Goethe to Zblteb. 
 
 Jena, 31st December, 1817. 
 At your suggestion, I have been looking through 
 the few scraps of poetry I have by me, and find only the 
 enclosed, which may perhaps come in useful for your 
 Society. It was an extemporary offering to my very old 
 friend, Knebel, on his seventy-third birthday. Good 
 luck to the Society, which may also sing it at certain 
 epochs ! . . . . 
 
 G. 
 
1** Goethe's lbttbks 
 
 [1817. 
 
 Lustrum, hath a foreign sound ! 
 
 Lustra then express it! 
 
 Eight or nine, on this same ground, 
 
 We have borne, confess it ! 
 
 Laughed and lived, and as it came, 
 
 Loved perhaps another ; 
 
 He that strives to do the same. 
 
 He shall be our brother, 
 
 Say, 'Tis much. Life strews our way. 
 Not with thornless flowers ! — 
 But the goal's the goal to-day, 
 And rejoicing ours ! 
 
 30th November, 1817. 
 
1818.] TO ZKLTBE. 1S5 
 
 1818. 
 
 115. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 11th January, 1818. 
 .... Should you. be willing to send me your ex- 
 planatory poems, please do so as soon as possible, as I am 
 ratber in the humour just now ; I always want more time 
 for freeing myself from my usual surroundings, than I do 
 for the actual work. I could not help smiling, any more 
 than you could, when I heard you had read Mattheson's * 
 YolUcommene Ga/pellmeister. That man was Secretary of 
 Legation for Great Britain up to the time of his death, and 
 an eminently useful statesman at the same time. By the 
 the time he had reached his seventy-second year, he had 
 written the same number of works, mostly musical, which 
 cut a strange figure nowadays. I am very fond of dipping 
 into them, for they always help me to thoughts for which 
 I should have to seek far enough. Heaven knows, but for 
 him ! Some time ago, I sent you a good manuscript copy of 
 Das Wohltemperirte Clavier, so you ought not to have been 
 
 forced to buy it 
 
 Z. 
 
 116. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Jena, 20tli January, 1818. 
 
 .... Rossini was once asked, which of his Operas 
 pleased him best? His answer was — "H Matrimonio Se- 
 greto."f 
 
 * Johann Mattheson, better known as an author than as a musician, 
 was one of Handel's earliest friends at Hamburg. Their dispute and 
 consequent duel, so nearly fatal to the great composer, are well known 
 to the students of Handel's biography. His versatility was wonderful. 
 At different times of his life, he was an operatic singer, an organist, a 
 tutor, a Cantor, and the canon of a cathedral, besides which, lie wrote 
 and composed. Perhaps Ser Vollkommme Gapellmeister is the most 
 valuable of his numerous works. 
 
 f This seems to be a mistake ; the Opera cited by Rossini was, ac- 
 cording to his latest biographer, Don Giovanni. 
 
156 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1818. 
 
 In the second Act of Elena, an Opera by old Mayer of 
 Bergamo,* there is said to be a very effective Sestett ; a 
 popular Bohemian melody, a sort of Notturno, is said to 
 be the principal theme. Would it be possible to get hold 
 of the score of this Sestett ? 
 
 For several years past, your Fasch has been lying among 
 a number of papers in Jena ; I found it lately, and read it 
 at one sitting, with great edification. How it transports 
 one into another world ! And how passing strange is that 
 old item, out of the catalogue of universal history, — the 
 King ! I say " old," and he has not yet been dead forty 
 years, but his deeds of commission and omission are already 
 antiquated, — though this may perhaps be ascribed to the 
 hurry of these last days. Now farewell ! and let me soon 
 
 have some cheerful tidings 
 
 G. 
 
 117. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Jena, 16th February, 1818. 
 .... Tou know Jena too little for it to mean any- 
 thing to you, when I tell you, that on the right bank of the 
 Saal, close to the Oamsdorf bridge, above the ice-laden 
 waters, which are dashing violently through the arches, I 
 have taken possession of a tower, (vulgo Hrker,') which has 
 for many years past tempted me, my friends, and my own 
 people to live there, though not one of us would ever have 
 given himself the trouble to mount the staircase. Here I 
 while away the happiest hours of the day, looking out on 
 the river, the bridge, the gravel-walks, meadows and gar- 
 dens, and then upon the dear funny , nest itself, with 
 the hills and mountains, and heights, famous in battle, 
 rising beyond. When the sky is clear, I can, day by day, 
 see the sun setting somewhat later, and more to the north ; 
 by this I regulate my return to town.f 
 
 In this state of almost absolute solitude, the Third Part 
 of my Ktmst und AUertJvum has been prepared for the 
 
 * Johann Simon Mayer, the composer of no less than seventy Operas. 
 His fame in Italy was only eclipsed by that of Eossini, who, it is said, 
 borrowed from him his well-known orchestral Crescendo. 
 
 t Goethe occupied rooms on the top-story of the Inn Z/u/r Tamne, 
 where he remained till the end of June. 
 
1818.] TO ZELTEK. 157 
 
 press. Tte Second Part of my Morphologie is likewise pro- 
 gressing. I hope to get the upper hand of my Entcyptische 
 Fa/rhen, in connection with m.y FarbenleTire, hefore Easter. 
 Let friend Schulz know of this, if you chance to meet him 
 anywhere. 
 
 Further, I should not forget to tell you, that we have 
 the most complete arrangements for observing atmospheric 
 changes, while I, on my part, try to interweave the forms of 
 the clouds, and the colours of the sky, with words and images. 
 
 But as all this, except for the whistling of the wind and 
 the rushing of the water, runs off absolutely without a 
 sound, I really want some inner harmony, to keep my ear 
 correct ; and this is possible, only by my faith in you, and 
 in what you do and what you value. Therefore I send you 
 only a few fervent prayers, as branches from my Paradise. 
 If you can but distil them in your hot element, I suppose 
 the drink can be swallowed comfortably, and the heathen 
 will be made whole ! 
 
 Apocalypse — last chapter ! Verse 2. 
 
 That joke I told you of, you did not understand. Some- 
 one, talking to that composer, named several of his works, 
 and asked him which he thought the best ; he replied — 
 II Matrimonio Segreto, meaning the composition of Paesiello. 
 I need not further explain the neatness and ingenuity of 
 
 his answer 
 
 G. 
 
 118. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 (Not dated.) 
 
 As our correspondence is only by fits and starts, 
 now that the flood-gates have once been opened, I may as 
 well tell you this, that, and the other. 
 
 First then, with regard to your question about Leonardo's 
 Last Supper. Of this priceless work, the first complete 
 • fugue of a painter, surpassing all that had preceded it, and 
 yielding to none that came after it, a mere shadow is all 
 that remains in the place where it was painted, the approxi- 
 mate position in which the figures stood to one another. 
 
 But we can form a certain idea of it, from several copies 
 that were made of it, of which I can only mention three 
 specifically. 
 
158 goithe's letters [1818. 
 
 1500—1512. 
 
 One by Marco d'Oggionno, at Castellazzo, in the refec- 
 tory of a deserted convent ; it is a little smaller than life, 
 highly characteristic, and smacks of Leonardo's teaching 
 and example. 
 
 1565. 
 
 One at Ponte Capriasca, weaker than the above, though 
 on the same lines ; very useful for comparison. 
 
 1612—1616. 
 
 One in the Ambrosian Library at Milan, the upper part 
 of the figures painted by Andrea Bianchi, called Vespino ; 
 the figures life-size like the original, very good and effective, 
 but without a trace of Leonardo. The faces are already 
 passing into empty generalities, such as one sees in drawing- 
 books. 
 
 It is from these three copies, that the drawing for 
 Morghen's engraving was made, as well as Bossi's cartoon 
 and his life-size paintings, an enormous mosaic of which 
 was constructed at Milan, by command of the Viceroy. 
 
 But I can tell you thus much by way of consolation, that 
 for Morghen's engraving, the old genuine copy in Castellazzo 
 was invariably consulted with scrupulous care, so that, 
 after all, a great deal more has remained to us, than we 
 suppose. 
 
 But meanwhile, until you learn circumstantially what I 
 have to say about it, as you very likely will at Easter, 
 through my pamphlet upon Ktmst und Alterthwm, look up 
 the Heidelberg Jahrbiieher for December, 1816, in which 
 Miiller of Eome, otherwise called " Maler (Painter) Miiller," 
 has given a clever illustration from Bossi's work, with some 
 thoughtful notes, from which alone you may gain a great 
 deal. The gaps which he leaves, I fill up. 
 
 As soon as you again come across the engraving, apply 
 your laws of counterpoint to it ; it will be a great delight 
 to you. 
 
 G. 
 
1818.] to zeltee. 159 
 
 119. — Zbltkr to Gobthe. 
 
 Berlin, 1st March, 1818. 
 .... MaVbe's Opera of Ulena was destroyed by 
 fire ; worse still, the masic is unknown, but in spite of that, 
 I have commissioned them to get the Sestett you want. I 
 suppose it is the well-known Simon Mayer ? Tou did not 
 write his Christian name, and here, no one knows of any 
 other Mayer among composers. Stop ! One of my earlier 
 disciples, Meyer-iBeer by name, created a furore in Padua 
 last year with one of his Operas,* and he might be the 
 
 younger, as yon speak of the old Mayer 
 
 Z. 
 
 120. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 8th March, 1818. 
 
 Mt best thanks for your midnight souvenir, f Here 
 is something about the old Mayer, which will amuse you. 
 How I wish I could be borne upward, on Faust's cloak, 
 and let myself down in your Opera-house, at your grand 
 function. Earthly means and ways will hardly bring me 
 to Berlin. More in my next. 
 
 G. 
 
 Hiialosure.'l 
 
 " At Bergamo, Church-music is still all the rage. I 
 thought I saw before me the Italians of 1730. 
 
 " The beauties of the Church-music are nearly all con- 
 ventional, and although a Frenchman, I cannot reconcile 
 myself to furious chanting. The Bergamese spare no pains 
 to satisfy their passion, which is favoured by two circum- 
 stances : the famous Mayer lives at Bergamo ; so does old 
 David. Marchesi and David seem to me the Beminis of 
 vocal music, great talents, destined to usher in the reign of 
 bad taste. They were the precursors of Madame Catalani, 
 and of Pachiarotti, the last of the Romans. 
 
 • BowAlda e Costama, in which Pisaroni had the leading part. 
 + The Song, Tim Mittemaeht. 
 \ Translated from the French. 
 
160 qobthe's letters [1818. 
 
 " Mayer miglit have wooed a more brilliant fate, but 
 gratitude attaches him to this cotmtry ; bom in Bavaria,, 
 he came accidentally to Bergamo, and the cha/noine, Count 
 Scotti, sent him to the Naples Conservatoire, and supported 
 him there for several years ; after that, he was offered the 
 choir of Bergamo, and although the post was not worth 
 more than twelve or fifteen hundred francs, the most 
 brilliant offers could not attract him elsewhere. I have 
 heard it said at Naples, where he wrote the Cantata of 
 St. Oharles, that he would not travel any more ; if that is 
 so, he will write no more music. In Italy, a composer 
 must always be on the spot, to study the voices of his 
 singers, and write his Opera. A few years ago, the 
 managers of La Scala offered PaesipUo ten thousand 
 francs ; he answered, that at eighty years of age, people 
 no longer ran about the country, and he would send his 
 music ; they declined with thanks. 
 
 " It is plain, that we owe Mayer to the generosity of a rich 
 amateur ; so also Canova and Monti. When Monti's father 
 refused to send him any more money, he was about to quit 
 Home in tears, and had already engaged his vettwrmo. Two 
 nights before starting, he happened to read aloud some 
 verses at the Academie des Arcades. Prince Braschi sends 
 for him — ' Remain at Rome ; go on composing fine verses ; 
 I wUl ask my uncle for a post for you.' Monti became 
 private secretory to' the Prince. Somewhere or other, he un- 
 earthed a monk, the General of his order, a clever, philoso- 
 phical man. He proposed to introduce him to the Prince- 
 nephew, but the monk refused. Such singular modesty 
 piqued the Prince; stratagems were used to bring the 
 monk to him, and soon afterwards, he became the Cardinal 
 Chiaramonti. 
 
 " Patriotism is common in Italy ; see the life, (related to 
 me at Bergamo,) of that poor Count Pantuzzi of Ravenna. 
 This patriotisp is discouraged in every way, and forced to 
 lose itself in niaiseries. 
 
 " At Bergamo, when Mayer and David conduct the 
 Church-music, they get an oro, i.e. a piece of gold. 
 
 " They are now reviving an Opera of Mayer's — Elena 
 — which was played before La Testa di Bronzo; what 
 languishing music ! The transports at the Sestett in 
 
1818.] TO ZELTBE. 161 
 
 the second Act ! that is the musique de nocturne, gentle, 
 melting, the true music of melancholy, which I have so 
 often heard in Bohemia. This is a bit of genius, which 
 the veteran Mayer»has kept from early days, or else, some- 
 body gave it him ; it supported the entire Opera. There's 
 a people for you ! Why, they are born for the beautiful ! 
 An Opera, two hours in duration, is sustained by one 
 delicious movement, which lasts hardly six minutes ; people 
 come fifty miles to hear this Sestett, sung by Mademoiselle 
 Fabre, Remorini, Bassi, Bonoldi, &c., and through the 
 forty performances, six minutes make them forget two 
 hours of ennui. There is nothing shocking in the rest of 
 the Opera, but there is simply nothing at all." 
 
 The above are extracts from a curious book, entitled, 
 Borne, Naples et Florence, m 1817. Par M. de Stendhal, 
 qfficier de Cavalerie. Paris 1817. which you must certainly 
 get. The name is an assumed one ; the traveller is a gay 
 Frenchman, an enthusiast for music, dancing, and the 
 Theatre. These few specimens will show you his free-and- 
 easy style. He both attracts and repels, interests and 
 annoys the reader, so one cannot get rid of him. One 
 reads the book over and over again with renewed pleasure, 
 and would like to learn certain passages by heart. He 
 seems to be one of those clever fellows, whom the besom of 
 war has driven hither and thither, an officer, employe, or 
 spy, by turns, — or perhaps all at the same time. He has 
 been iu a number of different places, and knows how to 
 use the traditions of others, and generally, how to appro- 
 priate a good deal to himself. He translates passages from 
 my Italidnische Beise, and maintains that he heard the little 
 story from a Marchesina. Enough, one must not only read 
 the book, but possess it. 
 
 G. 
 
 121. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 (Written in the little room above the Saal, amid wind and rain.) 
 
 19th March, 1818. 
 , , . . Tou have been a great benefactor to m^ 
 lately, for the Midnight Song has been sung to me, properly 
 
162 Goethe's lbttees [1818. 
 
 and sympathetically, by a gentle, sweet creature, whose 
 energy only partially failed her in the last strophe. Once 
 again, you have right loyally and well set a seal on your 
 love and regard for me. My son, who is not easily moved, 
 was beside himself, and I fear that out of gratitude, he will 
 ask you to stand godfather. 
 
 I am back again in my turret, over the bridge, and the 
 roaring waters ; the stout wooden rafts, trunk to trunk, 
 doubly bound, are being steered carefully through, and pass 
 safely down the stream ; one man is sufficient for this duty, 
 the second seems to be there, merely for the sake of com- 
 pany. 
 
 The logs of firewood follow after, in dilettante fashion ; 
 some, as Heaven wills, come to land somehow, others are 
 carried away in the whirl, whilst others, at intervals," are 
 pushed up on to the gravel and sand banks. To-morrow, 
 perhaps the water will rise, lift them all up, and carry them 
 miles off to their destination, the fireside. Tou see I have 
 no need to trouble myself with the daily papers, as the most 
 perfect symbols come to pass before my own eyes. 
 
 However, if I am to be candid, this peacefulness is only 
 apparent ; for I had long wished to do honour to, and enjoy 
 the musical doings of your Passion-week, with you, whereas 
 now, my eye and spirit are hovering over the anarchy of 
 the wood-rafts. 
 
 But if I am to be perfectly sincere, let me comfort my- 
 self by telling you, that if you are quite honest in your 
 feelings towards me, you will not invite me to come to 
 Berlin; and in this, Schulz, Hirt, Schadow, and all who 
 really wish me well, agree. To our excellent friend, 
 Isegrimm,* (pray remember me to him,) it is all one and the 
 same ; in me, he would merely have one person the more to 
 contradict. I care as Httle to hear about the hundred 
 hexameters, as about the hundred days of Bonaparte's last 
 administration. God keep me from German Rhythmicism, 
 as from Trench change of dynasty ! The 6/8 time of your 
 Midnight exhausts everything. Such quantities and quaU- 
 
 * F. A. Wolf, the author of Prolegomena ad Somermn. In a former 
 letter, Eelter asks, " Has not our Grimmbart sent you his hundred 
 hexameters ? " See Letter 106. 
 
1818.] TO ZBLTBR. 163 
 
 ties of tone, such variety of movement, of pauses, and 
 drawings of breath ! — ever equal, ever changing ! The 
 gentlemen with their longs and shorts ( — o u — ) may talk 
 each other into agreement for a long time, before they 
 produce such work as yours. 
 
 They always forget that they used to assure us, tUl 
 we were weary of it, that a poet is no grammarian ! 
 Homer, Homerides, rhapsodists, and all the motley throng, 
 prattled on, as God willed, until at last they were fortunate 
 enough to have their stupid stuff copied, when the gram- 
 marians took pity on them, and after a lapse of two thou- 
 sand years of turning and twisting, at last brought matters 
 so far, that with the exception of the priests of these mys- 
 teries, no one knows, nor can know, anything further about 
 the subject. Someone assured me lately, that Xenophon 
 wrote just as bad prose as I do ; this surely should be 
 some consolation to me. 
 
 To fill up my remaining space, let me tell you a good 
 joke. Our Milanese friends,* whom the Grand Duke learnt 
 to know on his travels, men of rare value, knowledge, 
 activity, and practical wisdom, whom I have every reason 
 to cultivate, do not understand a word of German. 
 
 I am having my essay on the Last Silver translated 
 into French, by a clever Frenchman, who came to us, as an 
 emigrant, and endured with us, during the time of the 
 invasion, the visits of his blessed compatriots, and the conse- 
 quences thereof. It is a most curious experience, to see one- 
 seK reflected in the mirror of a foreign language. I have 
 never troubled myself about the translations of my works ; 
 this however goes into the life of the matter, and is there- 
 fore very interesting to me. If I am to find again in the 
 French that description, which I merely wrote down in 
 German, just as I felt it, I must here and there come to the 
 rescue, but this will not be a difficult matter, as the trans- 
 lator has succeeded in giving evidence of the logical flexi- 
 bility of his own language, without injuring the impression 
 on the senses. 
 
 * People who were anxious to patronize Goethe, but had neyer read 
 any of his works in the original. 
 
164 Goethe's letters [1818. 
 
 In spite of having perhaps bored yon, at the beginning o£ 
 this letter, with my account of the rafts, made of large 
 trunks of trees, I must end by telling you, that to-day — 
 Holy Thursday — the day of your festival — ^the great timber 
 Fair is being held at Kosen on the Saal, above Naumburg, 
 where future town and country edifices are floating about 
 by the hundred, in the rough; the Architect of all the 
 Worlds grant that they and we may prosper ! 
 
 V. Tui a/ma/ntissirmis, 
 
 G. 
 
 122. — Zbltbr to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 7th April, 1818. 
 .... A NEW Tragedy has sprung upon us — Die 
 Ahnfrwu, by a gentleman calling himself Grillparzer, — 
 trouble and woe from first to last There is unmis- 
 takable talent, though it is all lost ; the light is wanting, 
 and where that is not, I am much obliged to you for the 
 
 shadow What beautiful soul then was German 
 
 enough to sing you that song, ( TJm Mitternacht,) without 
 Italianisms, and with such animation, that you could not 
 help beiag pleased ? . . . , 
 
 I have set for you Kermst Dm das Land, for the sixth time, 
 so as to satisfy myself once at all events ; the best spe- 
 cimen shall migrate to Weimar 
 
 Z. 
 
 123. — Goethe to Zelteb. 
 
 Jena, 28th June, 1818. 
 .... If not disagreeable to you, I should like to 
 send a copy of your Motett to Thibaut of Heidelberg ; 
 although a jurist, he has a sensitive musical temperament, 
 and has, as I hear, gathered about him a circle of resolute 
 friends, who perform the compositions of the older masters 
 lovingly, zealously, and carefully. It is a reflex of light 
 called forth by you ; I cannot say indeed, how clearly it 
 shines, but people who know were very much pleased. 
 Ten sheets of my Bwan have been printed, nine of my 
 
1818.] TO ZEMBB. ^ 165 
 
 Kunst und Alferthwrn, and four of Morphologie. Some, if 
 not all, must reacli you by Michaelmas. There is no more 
 company, at least not for me, so I am entertaining myself 
 at present, by dictating, with a hope that, at some future 
 time, the influence of my work will be felt at a distance. 
 
 It seems so strange to one, when one contemplates gravely 
 and benevolently the doings of men^(speaking merely with 
 regard to Plastic Art, in which I am most interested.) The 
 most gifted people come to me, urging me to tell them 
 what they are to do, and when I tell them my honest 
 opinion, and they, having been convinced, take the first 
 steps, they immediately slip back again from the silliest 
 conventionalism into the most commonplace bungling, and 
 are as well satisfied, as if it could not have been otherwise. 
 Meantime I keep to my old maxims, while they behave, as 
 though I had said nothing whatever. If I am not mistaken, 
 you masters of the art of music have a great advantage over 
 us here, in so far as you can, at the very outset, compel 
 your pupils to accept what is recognized as law. I will 
 not stay to examine, how arbitrary may be the proceedings 
 of one individual after another, in after days. And so I 
 will inclose in this packet some preliminary fragments, in 
 regard to which, you anyhow have this advantage, that 
 you need not summon Herr Sickler to roll them up. I 
 have written all this in the midst of a heavy thunderstorm, 
 which is driving straight against my windows from the 
 West. It began by stirring up the dust, and was more 
 remarkable for a general downpotir of rain, from every 
 quarter of the sky, than for thunder and lightning. My 
 turret is admirably situated for watching all this, and I do 
 not know how I shall be able to give up this commanding 
 view. There is still a great deal to say, but I have no 
 more room on this sheet. 
 
 And thus, henceforth and for ever, 
 
 G. 
 
 Morgenhlatt, 1818, No. 240. 
 
 A man severe, with wrinkled brows, 
 (" Herr Doctor Miillner, I, Sir !") 
 And out of window all he throws, 
 Yes, even Wilhelm Meister. 
 
166 • Goethe's letters [1818. 
 
 Your only connoisseur, in brief, 
 To doubt it were uncivil : 
 For if his heroes come to grief, 
 He sends them to the devil. 
 
 124. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 27th August, 1818. 
 
 .... As soon as I am well again, I am off to 
 Darmstadt, to wait npon my Grand Duke of the Orchestra, 
 who has twisted a new Opera out of Spontini. In Cassel, 
 I heard a capital performance of Bossini's world-famous 
 Opera, Tanoredd,. The music is charming, which means, it 
 is of the genuine Italian kind, cMa/ro, puro e sicuro. Flow- 
 ing melody, grace, and freedom, in every number ; even 
 the Symphony is pretty, although it has nothing to do 
 
 with the piece 
 
 They have left an empty space round Lessing's grave in 
 Brunswick, near old Campe's garden ; no stone, no nothing. 
 I think it quite grand, after seeing the silly monument, 
 scribbled over with wretched verbiage, which theyiiave put 
 up to Klopstock, in Wandsbeck, and which the wind has 
 made away with once already, Tou are quite right : those 
 who come after us are no longer like our contemporaries. 
 What we have is not much, and what we had, we know 
 not. .... 
 
 Z. 
 
1819.] TO ZILTEB. 167 
 
 1819. 
 
 125. — GoETHi TO Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 4th January, 1819. 
 .... Since you left, I have done next to nothing 
 of what I had resolved to do. When the Dowager Em- 
 press of Russia came here, I could not refuse to assist in 
 some festivities, so I undertook to furnish a masque ; here- 
 with the programme, — the explanatory poems shall be sent 
 you later. 
 
 The procession consisted of nearly 150 persons ; — to 
 dress them characteristically, to group them, to range 
 them in rank and file, and lastly, when they appeared, to 
 explain what they were meant to represent, was no small 
 task ; it took me five weeks and more. In return however, 
 we obtained universal applause, which certainly was dearly 
 enough purchased, by the great outlay of imagination, time, 
 and money. Those who took part, spared no expense in 
 decking themselves out ; yet all this vanished at last in a 
 few moments, like a firework that explodes in the air.* 
 
 I, personally, have least to complain of, for the poems, 
 with which I took a great deal of trouble, remain ; and a 
 costly present from the Empress, enhanced by her friendly, 
 gracious, and confidential reception, repaid me beyond all 
 expectation 
 
 I must tell you, by the way, that I spent three consecu- 
 tive weeks in Berka, writing the poems for the procession ; 
 the Inspector played to me every day for from three to four 
 hours, and at my request, in historical order, selections from 
 Sebastian Bach to Beethoven, including Philipp Emanuel, 
 Handel, Mozart, Haydn, Dussek too, and others like him. • 
 At the same time, I studied Marperger'sf Vollkommene 
 
 * This was the last and most important of all Goethe's masques. 
 
 t Goethe means Marpurg, but there would seem to be a confusion, 
 for the author of Ber Vollkommene Capelhneister was Mattheson. See 
 Letter 127. 
 
168 GOETHE'S LITTEES [1819. 
 
 GwpeWmeister, and could not help smiling, while learning 
 my lesson. Yet how earnest and thorough those days 
 were, and how such a man must have felt the trammels of 
 the Philistinism that held him captive ! 
 
 I have bought the Wohlte-mperi/rte Olamier, as well as 
 Bach's Chorales, and have presented them to the Inspector 
 as a Christmas gift, with which he may refresh me when 
 he comes here on a visit, and edify me, when I go back to 
 him again. I 
 
 I should indeed like, holding your hand, to sink myself i 
 into the essence of the Chorale, into that abyss, where onei 
 does not know how to help oneself alone. The old intona-l 
 tions, and the fundamental musical movements, are con- 
 stantly applied to modem songs, and imitated by younger i 
 organists of more recent times ; the ancient texts are set 
 aside, and inferior ones substituted, &c. How difierent is '. 
 the sound of the proscribed song, Wie soMn leuchtet der 
 Morgenstern ! to that of the chastened version now sung to 
 the same melody ; and yet the genuine, and oldest version 
 of all, probably a Latin one, would be still more suitable 
 and appropriate. Ton see I am again hovering about on 
 the borders of your territory, but owing to my fishy sur- 
 roundings, nothing can come of it. This, however, is not 
 the only point, about which one must learn to despair. 
 
 And thus, henceforth and for ever. 
 
 Or. 
 
 126. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 29th May, 1819. 
 It is a matter of course that you should like my 
 Festgedichte, for while in Berka, where I wrote them — 
 reading Marperger and listening to Schiitz playing — I 
 thought of you incessantly, and wished we were nearer one 
 another. You have already got more than I can say, out 
 of this little series. Variety and freedom of metre came 
 undesignedly, whilst I was at work, and contemplating the 
 many different subjects. I scarcely touched the more 
 modem artificiality ; the eight-line strophe was my final 
 object, and it is most curious, that not one sonnet would fit 
 
1819.] TO ZEMER. 169 
 
 into the cycle ; even your instinct will hardly be able to 
 suggest, where it could have been introduced. 
 
 Thank you heartily for the kind reception you have 
 given the children ; * I shall be able, through them, to enjoy 
 what you had long since so kindly prepared for me. I can 
 no longer feel happy anywhere, except in my own house, 
 which, in summer especially, has every advantage, and 
 where the possessions I have been accumulating for so 
 many years past, are at my disposal, and are both a pleasure 
 and a profit to me, although in comparison with Nagel's 
 
 treasures of art, they would fade into nothing 
 
 Tours, 
 
 G. 
 
 127. — Zeltie to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 2nd June, I8I9. 
 .... TotJ speak in your letter f of having read 
 Marperger. Do you not mean Marpurg ? Marpurg is one 
 of the best, for his style of writing is the best, but here 
 too, as in Plastic Art, words fail to explain the spirit, 
 and what one wants to know, one can only learn by setting 
 to, oneself. He has written much, and was constantly at 
 issue with Kirnberger about matters in which, in my 
 judgment, Kirnberger was right ; although the latter, when 
 it came to writing, could not compare with the former, and 
 consequently was always at a disadvantage before the 
 world. I knew both those men, personally and intimately, 
 and learnt most of what I wished to know from their con- 
 flicting opinions Farewell, best beloved ! The 
 
 children will have plenty to tell you about the performance 
 of the two scenes from Faust ; it was a beginning, anyhow, 
 and there was no want of goodwill. 
 
 Z. 
 
 128. — Zblter to Goethe. 
 
 Vienna, 20th July, 1819. 
 I AEEIVED here last Saturday, after a six days' 
 voyage down the Danube from Ratisbon. The Danube 
 
 * August Goethe, and his wife, Ottilie. 
 + See Letter 125. 
 
170 goethk's letters [1819. 
 
 flows so rapidly, especially from Linz, that the vessel 
 would, at the utmost, require three days for the whole of 
 the sixty German miles, even if it stopped to rest at night. 
 The usual passage-boat is detained for several days, on 
 account of the various dues and customs. From Linz on- 
 ward, we did thirty miles in the two half days, but I was 
 all the more pleased, at having mpre opportunity to look 
 about, and enjoy myself quietly. The number of whirl- 
 pools, the most splendid of which is the Sauriissel, make 
 the voyage a perfect festival, with sailors who know what 
 they are about, and I enjoyed myself like an emperor. 
 
 The construction of the ordinary passage-boat is so 
 absurdly slight, that one goes on board, just for the fun of 
 the thing, before one is aware of the danlgfer. The boat 
 consists of nothing but planks of pinewood, sawn and hewn 
 into shape ; a kind of model, in fact, without iron, cables, 
 hemp, tar, pitch, anchor, or any other requisite for a 
 navigable ship. There is only one single rope on board 
 for anchoring the vessel ; of course such things as masts 
 and sails are out of the question, for the progress of the 
 machine is like that of the Israelites into the Promised 
 Land. The joints are stopped out with moss, and actually 
 sewn together by means of wire ; the tonnage is 2,000 
 Centner, the boat is 120 feet long, from sixteen to seventeen 
 broad, and there is no leakage. 
 
 My fellow voyagers consisted of an Irish doctor, a 
 German engraver, who made the strangest remarks about 
 Art and wore a kind of mediffival beard, an apothecary, a 
 butcher, a sword maker, a Capuchin friar, women, children, 
 journeymen, and your humble servant. The journeymen, 
 who pay little or nothing for their passage, bind themselves 
 to labour at the oar, turn and turn about, for two hours, a 
 duty they performed on this occasion rather lazily. In the 
 cool morning and evening hours, I took my share of the 
 labour ; this expedited matters, and during the latter part 
 of our voyage, even the women and girls shared in the 
 arduous task. A tailor received dispensation, and in con- 
 sideration for this, was obliged to sew on buttons to our 
 coats and trousers, and mend the linings of our pockets, 
 whilst some of the girls on board washed our stockings 
 and pocket handkerchiefs. 
 
1819.] ^ TO ZELTBE. 171 
 
 This motley company was soon in such boisterous spirits, 
 that the six days flew past like six hours. The crew had 
 on board the best Bavarian beer ; every morning we could 
 buy fresh meat, bread and wine, and in fact could have 
 gone the whole way in this fashion, as far as Peterwardein, 
 without experiencing any want. As regards myself, I had 
 to put up with very little from the Custom-house officers. 
 
 On the Saturday, after my arrival, I went straight to 
 the Karntner-Thor Theatre. The Opera, that of Othello, 
 by Rossini, is a new and bright composition, which, for the 
 first time, I heard admirably well done here. The composer 
 has let the poet go, and set to music some sort of poem, 
 which one can very easily make out from the music itself. 
 Rossini is without doubt a man of genius, and knows how 
 to use the means at his disposal, without first thinking, 
 like Gluck, how he can invent the instruments which are 
 to play his n:msic. There are in the music crescendos which 
 border on the grand, — he can let himself go, and in the 
 end, the thought comes out effectively. He plays with the 
 tones, and so the tones play with him. 
 
 On Sunday I went to the Marinelli Theatre. Three 
 pieces were given : (1) Die Werber ; (2) Die DamenJiute 
 im Theater; (3) A Pantomime — Schuhneister Beystrieh, or 
 Das Downerwetter. My ribs still ache from laughing. The 
 pieces are more than vulgar. Actors and public together 
 make up the comedy ; the faintest hit that succeeds is 
 loudly applauded, and any failure passes unnoticed. The 
 actors are in constant movement, and enjoy the whole 
 thing just as much as, if not m.ore, than the audience. Such 
 a Bohemian kind of pleasure defies all description ; the 
 children begin to scream and clap their hands, and all the 
 rest scream and clap their hands too. After the piece, 
 everyone with legs to stand on is called forward, and then 
 a new farce begins. The actors express their thanks, still 
 keeping up their characters in the play, and then, and not 
 before, their individuality is prominently brought forward. 
 The Theatre is always full, if not at the beginning of the 
 evening, at all events toward the end, when everybody 
 returns from the Prater. 
 
 The first comedian, Ignaz Schuster, is a regular genius 
 from top to toe ; there is nothing unreal in this fellow, his 
 
172 Goethe's letters [1819. 
 
 voice is as broad as a board, as sharp as vinegar, and as 
 glib as an eel. One understands here, why the people 
 of Vienna do not care about politics ; they want to live 
 and enjoy every minute, that is the reason ; politics come 
 from boredom and go to boredom. After the play, they 
 go to supper ; of a morning, to mass — each man to his 
 own business, each man his own way, from one spectacle 
 to another. Let them live on ! they never will become 
 wiser, they never were wise at aU ; they only understand 
 themselves, and they may be right, because, after all, they 
 assert their rights. 
 
 Wednesday, 21st July. 
 I passed last night in the village of Hitzing, close to 
 Schonbrunn, where from a height, (Die Gloriette,) one can 
 see the whole of the Wiener Thai. Schonbrunn is laid 
 out in excellent French taste, and reminded me of Sans 
 Souci. The Botanical Garden is much spoken of. In the 
 menagerie, I saw an enormous elephant — a splendid beast ! 
 — an ostrich, and a titmouse, all the very finest specimens. 
 Several cages, however, are empty, for the Institution is 
 not kept up. I was stongly advised to see a second play 
 at the Marinelli Theatre, (Der LusUge Fritz,) but it was 
 a failure. It is a pet piece with the public, but in spite 
 of mutual goodwill between actors and audience, the play 
 would not go down. 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 Yesterday evening, I heard Rossini's fourth Opera, La 
 Gazza Ladra; the subject is very pleasing, and something 
 very good might have been made of it ; properly speaking, 
 there should be a Merry- Andrew — this however, the poet 
 has forgotten; on the other hand, the emotional element 
 preponderates, and of this again, the composer has forgotten 
 to make the most. Altogether, however, the music is in- 
 tellectual and wanton, even to licentiousness, and in this 
 respect, it borders on Mozart, though he has greater dash 
 and depth. The singing was not much to speak of, but the 
 audience was determined to be pleased with everything, as 
 everyone palpably did his best. 
 
 The Prater is a large Lustgarten, (pleasure-ground,) for 
 which one must have one's own private carriage, but then 
 
1819.] TO ZELTBE. 173 
 
 the whole of the country here is a pleasure-garden. People 
 tell me things are no longer what they were, but where 
 are they so ? The stranger does not care about this change 
 of ideas ; I am only too glad if I can shake ofE the Berliner ; 
 nay, one often regrets things which were formerly oppres- 
 sive. 
 
 The fiawes are among the greatest conveniences of this 
 Imperial City. I lose myself daily in the perpetual 
 labyrinths of streets, but thanks to them, I can easily get 
 home, especially of an evening, when coming from the 
 Theatres, which are miles apart from one another. In the 
 place of a higher, worshipful, spiritual police, which seems 
 formerly to have been represented by images of saints, and 
 chapels, there is now to be seen, at every corner in Vienna, 
 a policeman, and one must allow that these people under- 
 stand their duty ; they appear to move, whilst they are 
 always on the same spot, and step out of the way of the 
 passers-by, in whose way they really are. 
 
 I was told that I should meet the young Napoleon, taking 
 an airing in the garden at Schonbrunn, but I never saw 
 him there. We soon observed, whilst pacing up and down 
 the beautiful walks, that we were being constantly watched 
 from a distance ; this continued, until the evening put an 
 end to our stroll. 
 
 The church of St. Stephen, -which I visit daily, more 
 than once, is a first-rate building, and the interior is re- 
 markably fine, apart from the patches and restoration, 
 which are easily distinguishable from the old part, and far 
 less desirable. One cannot properly criticise the tower, 
 for in strictness, there ought to be two ; the present one 
 has a spigot-look about it, and fails to make a good im- 
 pression. The completeness of the details surpasses all 
 belief, and the pulpit is an admirable piece of workman- 
 ship. I did not go to the top of the tower ; the heat is so 
 great, that the least exertion throws me into a perspira- 
 tion. 
 
 Salieri,* who has written more than forty Operas, is the 
 
 * Antonio Salieri, a pupil of Gluok's, and an intimate friend of 
 Haydn's ; Beethoven dedicated to him three Sonatas for Pianoforte and 
 Violin, and would sometimes call himself, " Salieri's pupil." 
 
174 goithe's lbttees [1819. 
 
 most honest fellow in the world ; he is busy as ever, in the 
 most childlike way. He is now sixty-nine years old, and 
 considers himself ont of fashion ; this he need not do, for 
 his talent still flows, and none of his pupils surpass him. 
 
 Brening. 
 
 I have just seen and heard a performance of Mozart's 
 Titus, which, I dare affirm, was given more successfully at 
 Weimar. All the ladies, (there were four of them,) were 
 old enough to have been grandmothers, but all are well 
 trained. Campi must have been excellent in her young 
 days ; now however, she looks as if she had never been 
 young at all. Such a Titus as that has still to be bom, if 
 he is to be in love with all young women, who all want to 
 kill him. 
 
 Saturday, 24th July. 
 
 Yesterday evening — I mean, yesterday morning — I paid 
 twenty-six florins for an umbrella ; believing I had it with 
 me, I walked in the Prater after dinner, and got as wet 
 as a poodle, for I had left the machine at home. Then 
 I went to the Marinelli Theatre, to laugh myself dry 
 again. Now just imagine my despair ! Ber Yerlorne Sohn, 
 (that was the name of yesterday's play,) thought I, would 
 be able, both to laugh himself, and to make others laugh : a 
 great mistake ! This " lost " (verlorne) or rather " frosty " 
 {verfrorne) Son, is a moral melodrama, with Chorus and 
 dances ; the Son, who is a great scamp, has a wife ; 
 having learnt absolutely nothing, he accordingly loses 
 everything ; the piece concludes with the fourth Act, in 
 which the Son becomes happy once again, instead of 
 reaping what he really deserves'. 
 
 The poet Carpani * is one of my old acquaintances, whom 
 I first learnt to know at Toplitz, in the year 1810 ; as this 
 good old gentleman does not speak a word of German, I 
 am obliged to talk Italian to him, and I find it comes more 
 glibly to my tongue, than I had expected, after so many 
 
 • A poet and writer on music, known chiefly by hiB work, Le Haydme, 
 Ein enthusiastic eulogy on Haydn. Later on, he also published Le 
 Rossiniane, a similar eulogy on Rossini. 
 
1819.] TO ZBLTEE. 175 
 
 years of disuse. You will remember Carpani, when I 
 remind you of a little book of his, Le Hwydme, which con- 
 tains some very pretty stories about old Haydn. 
 
 Weigl * has told me a great many interesting things 
 about Mozart's youth, and later years. Weigl is a fine stately 
 man of the world ; his works are chaste, natural, and full 
 of character ; he succeeds best with what is secondary, and 
 the results he achieves produce an immediate effect. 
 
 The double-bass is placed in a standing position, so that 
 the player must sit beside it. I have not noticed any 
 diminution of effect, and should like to see this method 
 universally adopted. Those confounded goose-necks offend 
 my eyes with their spikes ; on the other hand, the 
 prompter's boxes here are as large as in other parts of 
 Germany, and prevent the eye from finding a centre for 
 itself, and in addition to this, there is the ridiculously 
 high seat of the conductor, conspicuous with all his dodges, 
 — one can hardly understand, why such anomalies are 
 allowed to exist. 
 
 The Burg Theatre is in high repute here, but the actors 
 are away on their holidays, until next month. I intend 
 now and then to take a trip from Baden to Vienna, and 
 hope it will agree with me. The Theater an der Wien is a 
 pretty house, roomy enough, with five rows of boxes, ex- 
 clusive of the pit-boxes. One can see and hear there veiy 
 comfortably. The Marinelli or Casperl Theatre, (Leopold- 
 stadt,) is also a good one, but the seats are so extremely 
 narrow, that I can hardly find room for my knees. The 
 Kamtner-Thor Theatre is the best ; the music is pretty, 
 appropriate, and good throughout, but the singers and 
 players are dreadfully fatigued and weary, for every 
 day, they have an Opera and a rehearsal, and frequently 
 two rehearsals on the same day. The instruments can 
 stand it still less than the men. The players in the 
 Orchestra are too shamefully treated ; several of them eat 
 their dinner and supper in the Theatre, because they have 
 no other time for it. "Weigl, too, complained of the hard- 
 ship of his duties, and he has to compose at the same 
 time. 
 
 * Author of the Opera, Die Schweieerfamilie. 
 
176 Goethe's littbks [1819. 
 
 Monday, 26th July. 
 Yesterday was Sunday, and I saw the Prater in its 
 Sunday dress. Four rows of sturdy old chestnut-trees 
 form three avenues, which begin at the Leopoldstadt, and 
 continue for half a mile, in a direct line, to the Danube. 
 The middle one, forty-five feet wide, is for carriages and 
 horses ; the two side avenues, twenty-four feet wide, are 
 for pedestrians. Several hundred carriages are to be 
 seen on the move, very splendid, some of them ; the fiaeres 
 turn out too ; close at hand are the foot-passengers, alone, 
 in couples, or in groups. The variety is charming ; it is 
 delightful to see a promenade of so many men and women, 
 beautifully dressed, in every kind of costume, flitting about 
 like shadows. On either side, caf^s and resting places are 
 set up, under the shade of noble groups of trees ; every- 
 thing is a pattern of neatness and cleanliness. We sit 
 down ; music, issuing from the wood, echoes in our ears 
 on all sides- ; now we are at the Opera, now at the ball, or 
 parade. Coffee and cakes are served. A child presents 
 me with a nosegay, a pretty girl offers me water as clear 
 as crystal, an old woman hands me a toothpick ; all this is 
 paid for by copper hreutzers only, a good riddance of bad 
 rubbish, for they are as heavy as the conscience, and drag 
 one's pockets down to the ground. This avenue however, 
 is not the only thing that forms the Prater. A second and 
 third, just like it, extend in a fan-like shape, from the Leo- 
 poldstadt towards the Danube, (i.e. an arm of the Danube.) 
 Here we see, as it were, the opposite pole of the planet, I 
 mean the real people. The wider spaces of ground, towards 
 the Danube, are occupied by refreshment stalls, where you 
 can get beer, wine, meat, ices, and drinks of all kinds, coffee 
 excepted. The three single cafes in the great avenues, 
 monopolize the privilege of selling coffee. These second- 
 class places of refreshment are so numerous, and close to 
 one another, that the guests of one host are indistinguishable 
 from those of another, and one is in danger of consuming 
 a feast, which somebody else has paid for. This is Vienna 
 proper; between these tables and chairs, and drinking 
 booths, smokers, bands, and merry-go-rounds, a happy 
 crowd moves to and fro. People jog along, stop, meet a 
 friend ; it is a constant rest, and bustle at the same time. 
 
1819.] 
 
 TO .ZELTBR. 
 
 177 
 
 if othing is fenced off, and there is no obstacle ; for althongh 
 the owners of houses are landlords, yet the g;round and 
 soil belong to the Emperor, and must not be enclosed in any 
 way. The impression produced on the mind by the be- 
 haviour of the people — I will not call it, the mob, — is one of 
 careless oblivion. I could not remember that I thought 
 or observed anything, and what I now write, strictly speak- 
 ing, I invent, without being able to say, thus it is, and thus 
 it was. What gives a really sunny aspect to the whole, is 
 the large crowd of happy faces, belonging to all sorts of 
 people, who, reconciled to-day with their God, see the 
 world as they would like it to be. Neither men, nor 
 women, nor old age, nor youth, is here as it ought to be. 
 There is an idea in existence, as there is an existence in the 
 idea. The first day I went into the Theatre, a violinist was 
 tuning his instrument. A waiter came into the pit, and 
 sang in the same key as the violin : 
 
 i 
 
 ^- 
 
 :)==t 
 
 1 ^- ! 1 1 - 
 
 ^ 
 
 jit:^M=Mz:Mz 
 
 tMzzm. 
 
 1= 
 
 Chocolade, 
 
 Limonade, 
 
 Punsch, 
 
 Then another followed with : 
 
 i 
 
 - I I ! ! : I I I- 
 
 4 4 ^ 
 
 -:=t- 
 
 Chxicolade, 
 
 lAmanade, 
 
 Bavaroise, Punsch. 
 
 And then the whole Orchestra tuned upon this melody ; I 
 laughed so loud at this, that everyone looked at me as if 
 I were a lunatic. Let them think of me as they please, the 
 things I don't like here I can get just as well at home, and 
 I hope to find them again there. 
 
 Tuesday, 27th July. 
 
 Yesterday evening, there was a splendid display of fire- 
 works in the Prater, in honour of St. Anne. The worthy 
 pyrotechnist, as a rule, has the misfortune to have bad 
 weather ; the public, one and all, take the deepest interest 
 
178 Goethe's letters [1819. 
 
 in the matter, for the people like to see snch a spectacle, 
 just as much as the artist likes to produce it. Yesterday 
 we had the finest weather imaginable. It had rained 
 itself out; there was no dust, no dewy mist, no breeze, 
 but a dark evening sky. The rockets shot up straight as 
 arrows, and everything went ofE successfully. There were 
 two principal tablea/ux — the first in honour of beautiful 
 women, and the last adorned with the name of St. Anne. 
 The thing had something grand about it, unlike ordinary 
 fireworks, on account of the spacious darkness of the night. 
 The scaffolding which is always erected for such occasions, 
 is from eighty to ninety feet high, and from a hundred and 
 sixty to a hundred and eighty feet in length ; there are 
 three rows of boxes around it. The Imperial box, holding 
 easily more than a thousand spectators, is in the centre. 
 The pit, which was densely crowded, held probably some 
 thirty thousand spectators ; the ladies are always beautifully 
 dressed, for the fair sex here is distinguished for its good 
 taste. The charm of the scene is enhanced by the general 
 satisfaction with everything, the way everyone qnietly 
 takes it to heart, if there is a failure, and the way they 
 all rejoice, when it rights itself again. 
 
 This seems to me the only pleasnre, in the enjoyment of 
 which the Austrians are willing to do without their music, 
 which persecutes us here in every direction. I was assured 
 by a musician in Carlsbad, that music was a hard profession. 
 I replied, that the musicians are better ofE than the visitors. 
 " How so ? " said he. " Why, surely," (I answered,) " they 
 can eat without music." The good man went away 
 ashamed, and I felt sorry for him, although my speech 
 was quite in point, for it is really cruel to worry patients 
 and convalescents in this manner. I certainly can stand 
 a good deal, but when I come away from the Opera and 
 sit down to supper, and am choked directly by the strains of 
 some harpist or ballad-monger, which jar cruelly with 
 what I have heard and enjoyed at the Theatre, it is really 
 too much, and — wretch that I am — I quite forget that this 
 scribbling is also a great deal too much ; so farewell — with 
 kind regards and greetings to all your circle. From yours 
 eternally, 
 
1819.] TO ZELTEE. 179 
 
 The Danube is now looting quite splendid. It has 
 risen so high from the constant rains, and the melting of 
 the snow upon the hills, that it rushes by, like an arrow. I 
 am just off for a drive with Salieri. God bless you ! 
 
 Thursday, 29th July. 
 
 The day before yesterday, I had the most charming 
 walk to Schonbrunn and back, with Salieri. The old 
 fellow is still so full of music and melody, that he speaks, 
 as it were, in melodies, and he is, as it were, only under- 
 stood in that way. It is the greatest enjoyment to me, 
 to play the spy upon this genuine character, and to find 
 him always truthful, always cheerful. I come back to 
 this thought, now that I have examined the score of the new 
 Beguiem by Cherubini. This is a composition which, in these 
 out of joint days, must needs please everywhere, and does 
 please, just because there is no true word in it, and though 
 everything is thought out and brought out in a most 
 delightful manner, there is not the faintest feeling of a 
 requies mtema. The composer has only cared to .look up 
 those passages in the poem, where he can be boisterous — 
 dies iroB — mors stv/pebit — rex tremendoe majestatis — -flamimis 
 acribus — and to fill out the intervals with measured rest- 
 lessness ; in short, the secondary matter is here made the 
 principal thing, and the whole work appears as if one were 
 constantly and passionately saying, " No," nodding one's 
 head all the time. A review of this work, which now lies 
 before me, is just as confusing and mendacious as the work 
 itself; the composer is exalted into the seventh heaven, 
 and then dragged down again, as one who has dared to 
 enter the lists with Mozart, and wishes to rival him, when 
 Mozart has done it much better ; as if nobody else were 
 allowed to compose, or die, or find rest, after Mozart ! All 
 the newest books of instruction are based upon this view, 
 the old ones are thrown aside, and that is the present form 
 of Art. 
 
 Amidst all this, it is quite touching to observe the good- 
 natured Salieri, who venerates this state of things, without 
 any sorrow, and looks at it as an advance in Art, which is 
 quite necessary, but unattainable by him. At the same 
 time, he goes on writing, after his usual fashion, in a style full 
 
180 gobthk's letters [1819. 
 
 of tmconscious irony and humour, and spins his own cocoon 
 like a silkworm. He speaks with delight of a Requiem 
 which he wrote, under the notion that he would soon 
 follow his wife, who died in 1807 ; but as this has not yet 
 taken place, he has now written a much shorter one, 
 thinking it was good enough for him. He has allowed me 
 to copy a Mass and an Offertorium, written by him in the 
 year 1766. The latter is in no way inferior to the very 
 best Italian works of the seventeenth century, produced in 
 this style. It is devotional, pure, and elevating, written 
 in conformity with the practical requirements of Art and 
 the Church. Tou should have seen his childlike delight, 
 when I, at the very first glance at this music, made some 
 intelligible remarks about it ; he knows the whole thing 
 from tradition, whilst I have only acquired it by observa- 
 tion and study, and have had to make it clear to myself, 
 for the theory of an ecclesiastical style of music has dis- 
 appeared with the Church herself. 
 
 Beethoven, whom I should like to have seen once more 
 in this, life, is living in the country, and no one can 
 tell me where. I was anxious to write to him, but people 
 told me he was hardly approachable, on account of his 
 almost complete deafness. Perhaps it is better that we 
 should remain as we are, since it might make me cross to 
 find him cross 
 
 The articles in the Berlin papers are now a common 
 topic of conversation ; I also read the Viennese journals, 
 which are written in a very chaste style. By to-morrow I 
 shall have been here a whole fortnight, without once enter- 
 ing a Museum or Gallery, or examining any one of those 
 Institutions, through which Art and Science are bounded 
 in space. After my everyday wanderings along the Danube, 
 and through this endless city, I have had enough, and feel 
 so weary, that I could sleep on the hardest bed. Vienna 
 is in truth a magnificent city, and her suburbs are splendid. 
 The knowledge of this fact makes one warm, in warm 
 weather. Of course you can and do take a carriage, but it 
 is not instructive, and as a rule, very expensive for one, 
 who like me, does not understand the art of making bar- 
 gains. The Austrian people have the most pleasing najivete, 
 ■which places them at such a distance from the so-called 
 
1819.] TO ZELTEE. 181 
 
 higher classes of society, that the latter really appear at a 
 disadvantage. Thus, for example, if the Austro-German 
 dialect is not good German, it is still a language, in 
 which one moves with the same ease, as a fish swims in the 
 water, whilst the higher classes always seem to be uncertain, 
 what and how they should speak ; doubtless, however, a great 
 deal of good Italian and !French is spoken here ; this is 
 very natural, considering the great conflux of nationalities, 
 Viennawards. 
 
 Much importance is attached here to music, and this in 
 contrast to Italy, who is, according to her own estimate, 
 " the only saving Church ;" the people here, however, are 
 redlly thorough musicians. It is true they are pleased with 
 everything, but they only retain what is first-rate. They 
 are glad to listen to a mediocre Opera, which is well cast, 
 but a first-rate work, even if not given in the best style, 
 remains with them for ever. Beethoven is extolled to the 
 heavens, because he works very hard, and is still alive ; but 
 it is Haydn, who presents to them their national humour, 
 like a pure fountain, which does not mingle with any other 
 streams, and it is he who lives in them, because he pro- 
 ceeds from them ; they seem to forget him every day, and 
 daily he rises to life again amongst them. 
 
 Baden, 2nd August. 
 
 Yesterday evening, the Emperor came to Vienna, and I 
 arrived at Baden, looking like a miller's apprentice, for 
 this dusty country perfectly answers to the description 
 people gave me of it. 
 
 How am I sufficiently to thank you for your Morphologie, 
 which I am devouring with the greatest interest, applying 
 it to the Theory of Sound, and hence arriving gradually 
 at the Theory of Thought and Invention ? How naturally 
 all this comes, and what will your honoured friend, F. A. 
 Wolf, say, when he comes to read the first lines in Hafis 
 (JDwoM, p. 379) ? I jumble up one thing with another, 
 reading now here, now there, and just enjoying myself, to 
 the top of my bent ; in the harum-scaruni life here, every- 
 thing comes into my head all at once. 
 
 On Sunday I visited the Picture Gallery of the Prince 
 Esterhazy, which contains many fine things by Leonardo 
 
182 goexhe's letters [1819. 
 
 da Vinci, Raphael, Titian, Diirer, Eyck, Eubens, Bellini, 
 Poussin; the works of many first-rate artists adorn the 
 walls of whole suites of rooms. Some statues by more 
 modern artists, such as Ganova and Schadow, are inter- 
 spersed with other marbles, and majestic vases. It is my 
 own fault, that I have not seen more of such things. I 
 have not looked at a single engraving ; it makes me quite 
 dumb and stupid to see such wonders, all at once, merely 
 in passing through so hurriedly, — nay, I feel ashamed of 
 my own ignorance, and yet quite angry, when my bear- 
 leader says, " Just look at those beautiful heads ! What 
 hands ! What a lovely landscape, &c." 
 
 To-day — the 3rd of August—is the anniversary of the 
 death of my noble friend, Fasch. Having lived with him 
 for many years, without one word of difference, I rejoice 
 to be able to say, after a period of nineteen years, " Look, 
 old friend and master ! your work still abides ; it is en- 
 couraged, it encourages others, they value it, and — Heaven 
 be thanked ! — ^it fell to my lot to preserve it for yoa, my- 
 self, and Art ! " It is only after the lapse of years, that we 
 see the soundness of a good thought. 
 
 9th August. 
 To give myself something new, I went, the day before 
 yesterday, to Ulrich's, the local bookseller, where I found 
 a pirated edition of your works, and amongst them, the 
 Biography of P. Hackert,* which forms the eighteenth 
 volume of the edition of 1811. The way in which you 
 have put together this little work out of mere fragments, 
 is so characteristic, and so easy, that it did my very heart 
 good to read it. It was as good as new to me, for in 
 the year 1811, at Schweidnitz, I had only time to skim 
 through it ; if you should still have a copy by you, be so 
 good as to send it to me, at your convenience, and address 
 it to Berlin. Hackert's youngest brother, George, the 
 engraver, was my most intimate school-fellow at the Draw- 
 ing Academy in Berlin, the Director of which in those 
 days was the excellent Lesueur. Had I, at that time, been 
 
 * Fhilipp Hackert, an artist, with whom Goethe spent many pleasant 
 honrs in Italy, and from whom he had lessons in landscape-painting. 
 See Letter 130. 
 
1819.] TO ZBLTEB. 183 
 
 my mother's less obedient son, I should have gone with 
 George to Naples. God knows how I envied him, for 
 having a brother who could invite him. The times were 
 quite different to the present, and the consciousness of my 
 inferior talent lay so heavily on my youth, that I did not 
 understand, how to work myself forward out of it. The 
 book has vividly recalled that time to me, and makes me 
 feel at this moment forty years younger. 
 
 If I m.easure this harmless story of a fruitful, artistic 
 life, with other pretentiously got-up biographies, in which 
 the great appears small, and truth incredible, I see clearly, 
 how much it takes, not to soar too high. 
 
 Baden, 12th August, 1819. 
 
 Yesterday morning, I read your Translation of Mahomet 
 and Tancred. If I am to judge by the first impression, I 
 must say, it quite surprises, nay, astounds me, to see what 
 can be accomplished by a certain talent, practice, and mas- 
 tery ; yet I felt no comfort, when I closed the book. The 
 reading of Mahomet almost broke my heart, and in the 
 Tamered, I can't quite make out why the lovers must perish. 
 They do not seem to me to be in the least tragic, at all 
 events they do not act tragically, and the misfortune falls, 
 like a bomb out of the clouds, upon wandering men, who 
 in consequence suddenly acquire importance. I remember 
 what you once said about this poet, that no talent was 
 wanting to him, except depth. Mahomet is an undig^fied 
 tyrant, and out of proportion to his antagonist, Sopir. 
 
 The minor characters in ToMcred seem to be there, merely 
 to make beautiful speeches ; everything is thought out, de- 
 vised, spun out, distorted : the father is supposed to have no 
 presentiment, that the mother has approved of an alliance 
 of her daughter with Tancred ; the daughter, a brave, 
 truthful creature, ought she, under these circumstances, to 
 make a secret of her lover ? How tormenting is all this ! 
 In short, had I been Voltaire, or his opponent, I should have 
 undertaken to make a merry wedding comedy out of Tan- 
 cred, and have introduced a fool, who would laugh at them 
 all round. 
 
 What you say on page 377 of thsDivam,, under the head- 
 ing, Verwahnmg, as to the difference between poetry and the 
 
184 gobthe's letters [1819. 
 
 elocutionary arts, seems to me to apply here : these are 
 tales, and a man who does not choose to believe them, can 
 let them alone. 
 
 Voltaire's beautiful French seems purposely constructed, 
 in order to give colour and shape to certain unreal beings, 
 in order to enliven streets and promenades with painted 
 corpses. It has often vexed me, to think how German 
 critics have attacked French compositions, which, to my 
 thinking, seem, in the language, and form of the whole, 
 and of the details, undeniably smooth and mannerly, and 
 ■when this impression has descended, by inheritance, to their 
 nation, for several centuries, how should not the foreigner 
 — I mean the German — who has no old traditions, be 
 carried away by it ? 
 
 This enables me to see clearly the merit of your Trans- 
 lation, which so aptly naturalizes the characters, without 
 deviating from the original. 
 
 Tou must excuse this scribbling of mine, for, like a half 
 mathematician, I write down equations, pen in hand, in 
 order to make them intelligible to my understanding, by 
 putting them in black and white before me. Here however, 
 i have nothing else to do but to kill time. The music here, 
 mingled as it is with the eternal jingling of bells, entirely 
 distracts my thoughts. 
 
 The country about here produces abundance of com, 
 wine, fruit, and provisions of all sorts. I hear land- 
 owners in Baden grumbling about the fall in the price of 
 com ; after that, loud abuse of Prussia ; after that, gentler 
 abuse of Russia. An intellectual conversation is out of 
 the question 
 
 1 6th August. 
 Yesterday, I heard some more vocal music, Italian, of 
 course, for German is not spoken here by choice, much 
 less sung. There is nothing but Rossini ; that man rules, 
 whether he chooses or not ; there's Freedom for you ! 
 And the Italians are right. The voice will sing for her 
 own sake, and whoever complies with her demands, he is 
 her man. Now however, criticism is beginning to settle 
 here, and it will lay hold of the nearest thing first ; 
 it might fare hard with Rossini, if he tried to do more 
 
1819.] TO ZELTBR. 185 
 
 than he can. Two young girls sang the mnsic very 
 prettily and neatly ; the silliest stufE sounds well, as long 
 as it goes ofB smoothly. 
 
 Beethoven is gone into the country, but no one knows 
 whither ; he has just written a letter from Baden to one of 
 his lady friends here, and he is not at Baden. He is said 
 to be intolerably mcmssade; some say he is a fool, — that's 
 easily said. Heaven forgive us all our sins ! The poor 
 man, they say, is hopelessly deaf. I know how I feel, 
 when I look at the fingering here, and I — ^poor devil ! 
 — one finger of mine after the other gets useless. Quite 
 lately, Beethoven went to an eating-house, where he sat 
 down at the table, and after an hour's meditation, called 
 out to the waiter, " How m.uch do I owe you ? " — " Why, 
 your honour has not eaten anything ; what shall I bring 
 you ?" — " Bring what you like, and leave me alone ! " 
 His patron is said to be the Archduke B/udolf , who allows 
 him 1,600 Gulden (paper money) a year. With this he 
 must try to manage, like all other musicians in Vienna. 
 They are kept there like cats, and any one who does not 
 understand the art of mousing, will hardly save anything, 
 and yet, in spite of this, they are all as round and jolly as 
 weasels. 
 
 The adjoining park close to my lodgings, which are at the 
 foot of the Calvarienberg, looks on Sunday, like a Turkish 
 Paradise. All the prettiest women in Vienna turn out 
 on a Sunday, after two o'clock, dressed so charmingly and 
 looking so nice, that one would like to be nothing but eyes. 
 There are many handsome women here, especially middle- 
 aged women, and their complexions and figures are equally 
 charming. Modest behaviour, even amongst those of 
 doubtful virtue, is surprisingly universal, and those who 
 do not understand the language of the eyes, would think 
 they saw before them, forests of Madonnas. The park 
 itself is not large, and may contain over a thousand square 
 roods ; it is intersected by broad walks, which are kept so 
 clean, that one can walk there in shoes, after heavy and 
 continuous showers of rain. The park faces the middle 
 of the mountain-chain, crowned by San Oalvario, which is 
 easily ascended in half an hour, and from which one looks, 
 to the left, upon the whole Baden Valley, while eastward, 
 
186 GOBTHl'S LETTERS [1819. 
 
 towards Vienna, straight in front of one, lies fruitful 
 Hungary. On the right, half an hour off, is the village 
 of St. Elena, in a cleft, through which runs a pretty river, 
 like the Tepel at Carlsbad, or the Neckar at Heidelberg, 
 but more graceful than either. The Archduke Anton 
 has had fine walks made for the accommodation of the 
 public, altering fields, and making bridges and- resting- 
 places, all at his own expense. The stone, as* far as it 
 can be seen, is limestone, sandstone, and a durable grey 
 granite, which takes a fine polish, and of which the baths 
 here are partially constructed. The bath water is from 
 a sulphur spring, which steams all the country through 
 which it percolates ; the horses seem to dislike it, and it is 
 with difficulty that they can be made to go into it ; some 
 of them seem maddened by it. 
 
 I have in vain tried to find the Opera of Elena e Gos- 
 tamimo, in Vienna ; Salieri and Weigl knew nothing about 
 it. The Opera is by Simon Mayer, and was given at Milain, 
 in the month of August, 1816. The Baroness von Pereira 
 has promised me that she will write to Milan and get the 
 Sestett ; the Opera itself is not popular, the Sestett is said 
 to give life to the whole work. 
 
 I do not think I have yet told you anything about the 
 statue of Joseph II in Vienna. "Whenever I look at it, the 
 figure seems to me too thin ; I may however be mistaken, 
 having in my eye the statues of Marcus Aurelius, and of 
 our Electoral Prince, at Berlin. People like myself can 
 only make comparisons. The pedestal is of the finest grey 
 granite. 
 
 19tli August, 1819. 
 I may well say that I regarded Vienna with a kind 
 of awe ; why ? I cannot tell you the reason, otherwise 
 I should have been here long ago. I planned therefore to 
 go straight to Baden, and from thence, to make an occa- 
 sional excursion to the Imperial City. I do not think this 
 was a mistake, although I began, first of all, by spending a 
 fortnight in Vienna. I say this merely for your sake. If 
 you ever felt inclined, yon might, in the month of May, 
 go straight to Baden, before the crowds of people have 
 arrived. A lodging, with from four to five rooms, cannot, 
 
1819.] TO ZELTEK. 187 
 
 at the most, cost more than twelve Ghdden (paper money) ; 
 that is, a little more than a ducat, and everything else is 
 comfortable, cheap, and good. Only foreign articles, such 
 as coffee, tobacco, tea, and the lite, are dear, although 
 not much dearer than elsewhere; anyhow they are to be 
 had. A fiacre takes two hours to drive from here to 
 Yienna ; there are two halting places. I did it in two 
 hours yesterday, and paid the fare, twelve Guld&n, there 
 and back. Tou can be a]DSolutely solitary here, if you do 
 not live in the Landstrasse, where there are no end of 
 carriages. The best lodgings are to be found ia the street 
 facing the park, the Renngasse, where I am living, and 
 the AUeegasse. The baths are close at hand. At the 
 Franenbad, people bathe in company ; at the Theresienbad, 
 which I have now changed to, because I get a douche 
 there, you bathe alone. The attendants at the baths are 
 well looked after, and therefore obliging. Warm towels 
 and all kinds of bathing apparatus, I have never found so 
 ready to hand as here. The little town was burnt down 
 in the year 1812, and has been soHdIy and handsomely 
 rebuilt. The environs for three or four miles round are 
 highly interesting. Vosslau is pleasant and unpretending, 
 Schonau, the same, and still more to my taste, Merkenstein, 
 large and cheerful, the Briihl and Modlingen, spacious and 
 solemn, Sparbach, Johannis8tein,as well as Laxenburg, truly 
 imperial. Nature has here combined everything that can 
 make a neighbourhood perfect, though Art has striven hard 
 to hinder her. 
 
 28th August. 
 Well, what am I to write about to-day, my own heart's 
 brother, blessed a thousand times over ! Thanks be to all 
 the gods, that wherever I go, wherever I live, I have thee, 
 and carry thee with me in my heart. Health and every 
 blessing to thy dear life, thy powers, thy will, thy work ! 
 May thy life bring forth fruit in patience, from one gene- 
 ration to another ! — But you know all this better than 
 I do. 
 
 " As with an angel's wing, in the hot glow 
 Of summer, thou hast gently cooled my brow ; 
 Through thee earth's noblest gifts were made my own. 
 And every joy I feel in thee alone." 
 
188 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1819 
 
 Slat August, 1819. . 
 I have now finished the music to a little poem, Oleieh 
 und Oleieh, and should like yon to listen to it, and see, if I 
 have been able to conjure up a little flower, that would 
 make a tiny bee hungry.* I serve you, as people sacrifice 
 bo the gods, by bringing to them their own gifts. Take, 
 old fellow, mine, which is all thine, and give me all the 
 credit as usual ! * 
 
 1st September, 1819. 
 
 To-morrow, I go from here to Presburg, that I may 
 see something of Hungary, and then return home. For a 
 long time, I have not read so much as I have in four weeks 
 here, for I have been subscribing to the library. This too 
 was of service to me ; hitherto I had only seen Kotzebue's 
 pieces acted ; here I have read eleven plays of his in suc- 
 cession, which were before unknown to me, and many other 
 dramatic works at the same time. I stuck fast at length 
 in Klopstock's tragedies. I began the JDavid — no go — so 
 I passed on to Solomon — which also I failed to finish. 
 Next winter, I will make another bite at it, even if my 
 teeth stick fast ; one should be at home for such under- 
 takings as these. 
 
 The day before yesterday, I went to Modlingen, to pay 
 Beethoven a visit. He was just driving to Vienna, and 
 meeting each other on the road, we got out of our car- 
 riages, and embraced each other most cordially. The poor 
 man is so deaf, that I could hardly restrain my tears, when 
 I saw him ; then I drove on to Modlingen, and he to 
 Vienna. The country is inexpressibly charming ; the Briihl, 
 and the Castle-fortress of Prince Lichtenstein, which is 
 still in a fair state of preservation, were worthy a closer 
 study. We found there beautiful Gobelin tapestry, some 
 fine old household furniture, and some remarkable family 
 portraits, which still keep their colours. 
 
 I must tell you a joke, that tickled me uncommonly. 
 My travelling companion on this occasion was Steiner, 
 the music publisher, and as one does not get much talk 
 with a deaf man, on a public highway, it was arranged that 
 
 * See the little poem, dated 22nd April, 1814, in Letter 82 ; it was 
 afterward s called Gleich und Gleich. 
 
1819.] TO ZBLTEE. 189 
 
 Beethoven and I should meet properly, at four o'clock in the 
 afternoon, in Steiner's music-shop. Directly after dinner, 
 we drove back to Vienna. Full as a badger, and dog-tired, 
 I lay down, and slept so soundly, that I forgot everything. 
 Then I strolled away to the Theatre, and when I saw 
 Beethoven in the distance, I felt quite dumbfoundered. He 
 was evidently undergoing the same process, in discovering 
 me, and this was not the place to come to an explanation 
 with a deaf man. But the point of the story is yet to come. 
 
 In spite of all kinds of blame, to which Beethoven, rightly 
 or wrongly, is here exposed, he enjoys that respectful 
 consideration, which is only given to distinguished men. 
 Steiner had immediately given out, that Beethoven would 
 appear in person, at four o'clock, for the first time, in his 
 narrow shop, which holds some six or eight people, and he 
 had also asked guests, so that fifty clever men, crowded 
 out into the street for want of room, were waiting there in 
 vain. I myself only learnt the real state of things next 
 day, when I got a letter from Beethoven, in which he ex- 
 cused himself, (in a way that suited me admirably,) because 
 like myself — he had happily slept away the time of the 
 rendezvous .'.... 
 
 Here I have found my old idea realized — that of making 
 the Orchestra so deep, that one does not see the untidy 
 heads of the musicians ; the music, too, which is not 
 nearly so well organized here, as in Weimar, comes out 
 clear and distinct. 1 cannot imagine anything less be- 
 coming on a stage, than to see the fine forms of well- 
 dressed actors, and all that goes to make up a brilliant scene, 
 fluttering between the confounded mops of the fiddlers in 
 
 front. 
 
 15th September, 1819. 
 
 Yesterday, I made the acquaintance of Grillparzer, a 
 well-grown young man, twenty-six years of age, quiet, 
 invalidish, very taking. We had a country drive together, 
 and got on very well. The old Abbe Stadler was with us, a 
 bright, merry companion ; he told us a great deal about 
 the little Napoleon, on whom the Emperor lavishes all kruds 
 of paternal worship. 
 
 He is now about eight years old, and, so long as four 
 years back, he took his chief delight in soldiers, who like him 
 
190 Goethe's letters [1819. 
 
 in return. He invents long stories, and tells them to those 
 ftronnd him ; — one of these caused a serious investigation. 
 Afterwards, he laughs at everybody. He is very curt with 
 women and children, and likes learning languages. A 
 little while ago, he asked the Emperor, " Where then is my 
 father ? " — " Tour father is locked up." — " Why is he locked 
 up ? " — " Because he did not behave well, and if you do 
 not behave well, you will be locked up also." .... 
 
 Tours, 
 Z, 
 
1820.] TO ZELTEB. 191 
 
 1820. 
 
 129. — G-OBTHE TO ZeLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 12th April, 1820. 
 I WANT a genuine Zelterian composition for the en- 
 closed hymn, which might be sung in Chorus e-very Sun- 
 day, before my house. If some such thing could reach my 
 daughter-in-law during the month of May, she would have it 
 rehearsed, so as to give me a solemn and kindly welcome, on 
 my return, at the beginning of June. May the Paraclete 
 watch harmoniously over my friend, now and everlastingly ! 
 
 G. 
 
 130. — GoiTHB TO Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, 14th April, 1820. 
 It is good for us to be forced, from time to, time, to 
 get quit of all our surroundings ; this is the origin of our 
 making interim- wills, in the course of our lives. In a fort- 
 night's time, I intend to go to Carlsbad, so I have looked 
 up another Sackert for you, and will send it, properly bound. 
 Tou instinctively felt the care which I bestowed upon, and 
 the meaning I gave to the little volume ; it is obsolete in 
 our dear Germany, and is now, together with many other 
 good and useful things, covered by the sand- webs of the 
 day, though like amber, it will inevitably be washed clean, 
 
 or dug up again. Thank you for reminding me of it 
 
 G. 
 
 131. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Carlsbad, 2nd May, 1820. 
 .... Let me congratulate you on your Raphael 
 Festival ; * it was well planned, and I feel certain, was 
 
 * Zelter had described in a previous Letter, a Festival held at Berlin, 
 in commemoration of Raphael's birthday. The programme of the music 
 selected by Zelter was remarkable ; it included the Crucifirus by Lotti, 
 a Gloria in Exeelsis by Haydn, and a Requiem of Zelter's own 
 
192 GOETHE'S LETTEES .. [1820. 
 
 carried out equally well ; you Berliners are inimitable in 
 such things. May it ever be the custom, to commemorate 
 all heroes, who are raised above the atmosphere of envy and 
 opposition ! 
 
 I should like to have heard the music, though I can 
 form some idea of it, from what you say. The purest and 
 highest style of painting in music is that which you your- 
 self also practise ; the object is, to transport the listener 
 into that frame of mind, which the poem itself suggests ; 
 the imagination will then picture to itself figures, in accor- 
 dance with the text, without knowing how it comes to do 
 so. *Tou have given instances of this in your Johanna, 
 Sebus, Mitternaeht, TJeber alien Gipfeln ist Ruh, and what 
 not ? Tell me of anyone who has accomplished this, except 
 yourself ! The painting of tones by tones — thunder, crash, 
 splash and dash are detestable. The minimum of this is 
 wisely used, as you also use it, as a dot over an i, in the 
 above examples. So I, bereft of sound and hearing, though 
 a good listener, transform that great enjoyment into ideas 
 and words. I know very well, that on account of this, I 
 lose one third of life, but one must adapt oneself to circum- 
 stances 
 
 G. 
 
 The Pkofits op Yebteedat's Faib. 
 
 A Pcurahle. 
 
 To the apple-woman's stall 
 
 Came the children flying. 
 
 Everyone for baying ! 
 
 Seized the treasure, one and all, 
 
 "Apples! apples !" crying,— 
 
 The price they learnt, 
 
 And let them fall, 
 
 As though they burnt ! — 
 
 How many buyers would there be. 
 
 If everything were sold cost-free ! 
 
 132. — Goethe to Zelthr. 
 
 Carlsbad, 11th May, 1820. 
 .... Ebeewein has been composing several songs ; 
 tell me your opinion of them. I feel at once that your com- 
 positions are identical with my Songs ; the music, — like the 
 
1820.] TO ZELTIR. 193 
 
 gas which is pumped into the balloon, — merely carries them 
 up aloft. In the case of other composers, I must first make 
 sure of the way in which they have understood the Song, 
 
 and ascertain what they have made out of it 
 
 Meantime, new poems are being collected for the Divan. 
 This Mahommedan religion, its mythology and customs, give 
 scope for a style of poetry that is suitable to my years. Uncon- 
 ditional submission to the unfathomable will of God, a cheer- 
 ful survey of the earth's varying activities, which are ever 
 recurring like circles and spirals, love, an inclination that 
 wavers between two worlds, aU realism purified, and dissolv- 
 ing itself symbolically. What more can Grandpapa want ? 
 
 It is strange enough that my Promethem, which I had 
 miyself given up and forgotten, should crop up again just 
 now. The well-known Monologue, which is included among 
 my poems, was to have opened the third Act. I dare say 
 you have all but forgotten, that the worthy Mendelssohn 
 died from the consequences of an over-hasty publication of 
 the same.* Be sure you do not allow the manuscript to 
 become too public, lest it should appear in print. It would 
 be very welcome, as a Gospel, to our revolutionary youth, 
 and the High Commissions of Berlin and Mayence might 
 make a serious face at my youthful caprices. It is re- 
 markable however, that this refractory fire has been 
 smouldering for fifty years, under the ashes of poetry, till 
 at last it threatens to break out into destructive flames, 
 the minute it can seize on really inflammable materials. 
 
 Now that we are speaking of old, though not old- 
 fashioned things, let me ask, have you attentively read the 
 Satyros, as it occurs in my works ? The thought struck 
 me, because it rises up in my remembrance simultaneously 
 with this very Prometheus, as you will feel, so soon as you 
 examine it from that point of view. I abstain from making 
 any coitiparison, and merely remark that an important part 
 of Faust also belongs to this period. 
 
 • This was in 1774. The Monologue called forth declarations from 
 Leasing and Moses Mendelssohn, against Jacobi's book, Ueber die Lehrt 
 des Spmozas, and Mendelssohn's mortification at the public disclosure of 
 the fact, that his own knowledge of Spinoza's ethics was deficient, is said 
 to have hastened his death. 
 
 
 
194 Goethe's letters [1820. 
 
 And now about the weather, a sme quA non of the season 
 for bathing and travelling. The dry upper air has prevailed ; 
 every cloud has disappeared, and this year's Ascension Day 
 is a true heavenly Festival. 
 
 Generally speaking, a very late spring, with a high 
 solstice, affects us palpably and agreeably. It is as if the 
 trees, on awakening, were surprised at finding themselves 
 already so far on in the year, and yet, on their own part 
 still so far behindhand. Each day, fresh buds are opening, 
 and those already open are developing further. 
 
 It is delightfiil to walk down the Prager Strasse to- 
 wards sunset. All the leafless trees, hitherto unnoticeable, 
 at all events unnoticed, are gradually becoming visible, as 
 they unfold their leaves, and when the sun shines upon 
 them from behind, they stand out clearly, so marked in 
 their peculiar forms as to be recognizable. The green is 
 so young, so yellow, so perfectly transparent. This enjoy- 
 ment growing before our eyes, will be a feast to us, for 
 yet another fortnight. For this first green will not be 
 fully developed, even by Whitsuntide. 
 
 The day grows, and so everything is beautiful and good. 
 May what is brightest -and best fall to your lot ! 
 
 G. 
 
 133. — ZiLTBE TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 13th May, 1820. 
 
 .... As your letter speaks of musical painting, 
 
 shall I tell yon of some who have done such things ? . . . . 
 
 Haydn, in The Oreation and The Seasons, — Beethoven, in 
 
 his Cha/racter- Symphonies and the Battle of Vittoria, have 
 
 drawn the most curious pictures The Overture to 
 
 Haydn's Oreation is the most marvellous thing in the world, 
 for by the ordinary, methodical, conventional resources of 
 Art, a Chaos is produced, which converts the feeling of 
 fathomless disorder into one of delight. In the Symphony 
 which represents Winter, in The Seasons, I freeze in com- 
 fort at my warm stove, and for the moment, know not 
 whether there is anything more delightful in the world. 
 What old Bach and Handel achieved is quite measure- 
 less, especially in quantity, for every occasional transitory 
 
1820.] TO ZELTEB. 195 
 
 t 
 
 circumstance becomes in their hands an abyss of sensation, 
 which they denote by the familiar black points. Nay, 
 were there no limit to human things, and were the external 
 resources rich enough, one would recognize, in the belly 
 of the earth and the bosom of the stars, the life of 
 
 Omnipotence 
 
 Z. 
 
 134. — Zeltbe to Gobthe. 
 
 Berlin, 25th May, 1820. 
 
 .... Testeedat was Princess Radzivil's birth- 
 day, and at last, our Faust was smoothly and fairly 
 launched. The King was so pleased with us, that his 
 praises seemed sweet as honey to me, and I too can say I 
 
 was satisfied The Duchess of Cumberland again 
 
 was full of your praises, and regretted she had not been 
 able to attend all the rehearsals, as the piece is really a 
 unique thing, so that you cannot see it too often to probe 
 its depth. " Long live Goethe ! " was shouted at supper 
 by one and all. It was a threefold cry from a hundred 
 voices. Even if Radzivil's music had no merit at all, he 
 is entitled to great praise, for having brought to light a 
 poem hitherto concealed in darkest shadow, which every- 
 one, after reading and feeling, thought himself obliged to 
 withhold from his neighbour. I, at all events, know no one 
 else enthusiastic and innocent enough, to put such a 
 banquet before such people, as enables them for the first 
 time to learn German. Just think of the circle in which 
 all this goes on; a Prince, Mephisto, our first actor, 
 Faust, our first actress, Gretohen, a Prince for the com- 
 poser, a downright good Bang as foremost listener, with 
 his youngest children and all his Court about him, as good 
 an Orchestra, as can be found, and lastly, a Chorus of 
 our best voices, the singers consisting of well-born ladies, 
 (beautiful girls, most of them,) and men of position, 
 — amongst them a Consistorialrath, a clergyman, a Coun- 
 cillor's daughter. Court- Councillors and high officials, — 
 all these directed by the Royal Oeneral-Intendcmt, combining 
 the offices of scene-shifter, stage-manager, prompter, in his 
 own person, — ^in the Palace, in a Royal Castle ; — ^yon cannot 
 
 blame me for wishing we had had you amongst us 
 
 Z. 
 
196 Goethe's letters [1820. 
 
 135. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Carlsbad, 24th May, 1820. 
 
 As a parting gift, I send yon a little Song, which 
 you may lovingly decipher and becipher. I have had a 
 healthy, happy time. Now I am about to hasten home- 
 wards, where I hope to hear from you. 
 
 G. 
 St. Kepomuc's Eve.* 
 Carlsbad, 15th May, 1820. 
 
 Little lights upon the broad stream quiver, 
 Children's voices on the bridge are singiug. 
 Great and little bells above the river 
 Join, in rapturous devotion ringing. 
 
 Little lights must vanish, stars are dying ; 
 So our sainted spirit gently glided 
 From the mortal body, still denying 
 He could tell the sin to him confided. 
 
 Quiver, little lights ! Ye voices ringing 
 With the childlike laugh to childhood given, 
 Still remember, to the wide world singing, 
 What impels the star to stars in heaven. 
 
 136. — Goethe to Zelteb. 
 
 Jena, 6th June, 1820. 
 .... But now what am I to say to your repre- 
 sentation of my Faust ? The faithful account of it which 
 
 * St. John Nepomuc, the confessor of Queen Joanna, is said to have 
 been thrown into the Moldau by order of King Wenceslaus (1378-1418), 
 after he had tortured him in vain, in the hope of extracting from him 
 the secrets of the Confessional, and finding matter of accusation against 
 his virtuous wife, whose reproaches had goaded him to fury. The body 
 of the Saint rose to the surface of the water, and was discovered by 
 means of the unearthly lights which flickered round it. The last two 
 lines of the Song : — 
 
 Vnd verkiindiget nicht minder 
 
 Was dm Stem zv, Stemen bringe. 
 are somewhat obscure. Diintzer, who denies that " the star" means 
 the soul of the Saint, thinks that they allude to the magical power of 
 love, " which even in Heaven guides the course of the stars." The 
 maidens of Prague honoured St. John Nepomuc, as the guardian of 
 lovers. 
 
1820.] TO ZELTBE. 197 
 
 I owe to you, transports me into the strangest region, and 
 I see it quite clearly. After all, Poetry is reaUy a rattle- 
 snake, into the jaws of which one falls against one's own 
 will. Certainly, if you keep together as you have hitherto, 
 it will be, become, and remain the most out of the way 
 
 work that the world has seen 
 
 To fiU up my remaining space, let me add as follows : 
 About a year ago, when I happened to be sitting alone 
 with my daughter-in-law, I told her a little story, Uke 
 many you know, and many that I still have in my mind. 
 She wanted to read it, but I had to tell her, that it only 
 existed in the power of my imagiaation. Since then, I 
 have scarcely ever thought of it again. On coming to 
 Schleitz rather early, and feeUng the time hang heavy, I 
 took out of my travelling-bag a quire of writing-paper, 
 and a Viennese black chalk pencil that writes easily, and 
 began the story. I am now dictating it, and as there is 
 very little to alter, I find I have got about half way through 
 it. The rest will no doubt follow in due course, 
 
 G. 
 
 137.' — ZlLTBE TO GOBTHB. 
 
 Berlin, 7th Jnne, 1820. 
 .... Spontxni, whose acquaintance I made yester- 
 day, is just having his last Opera, Olvmpia, translated into 
 German. For this work, he wants forty violins in his 
 Orchestra, (we have about half that number,) and an 
 enlargement of the space for the Orchestra in the Opera 
 House. If the rest of the band is to be arranged in this 
 proportion, the pit may go and look for places outside. I 
 for my part, will take a hint from this experience, although 
 I see clearly enough, how and where it must end, if we are 
 
 to extract the pith, and get at the root of the matter 
 
 With the exception of the King and Crown Prince, who 
 are not in Berlin, the Court was again present at the 
 second performance of FoMst, and they tried beforehand 
 to make Spontini acquainted with the poem, by means 
 of Madame de Stael's explanations. What the Italian 
 Frenchman will learn from the devil, remains to be proved. 
 He is treated by the whole Court with the distinction he 
 
198 goithe's letmes [1820. 
 
 deserves, when one considers the toilsome labonr expended 
 on his works, and the readiness with which he submits to 
 alterations, which can hardly benefit the form of the 
 whole. . . . ' . 2 
 
 138. — GOBTHB TO ZeLTEB. 
 
 Jena, 9th July, 1820. 
 I FINISHED my last with a story, and begin this with 
 another. Ton will perhaps remember, that my Promefheus * 
 was first published in Vienna, in a pocket edition form ; at 
 the time, when we were in Toplitz together, I was still 
 brooding over it, in the true sense of the word, and you 
 took an equal share in it. The Duchess of Cumberland, 
 who was recovering from a severe illness, wished to have 
 something read aloud to her, so I took this very Prome- 
 theus, as my nearest and dearest ; she was greatly pleased 
 with it, and I let her keep the pocket edition copy. 
 
 Well, at our last interview, she talked about those days, 
 and about the poem, and said she would like to have another 
 small copy for a lady-friend of hers, but of course I had 
 no more. Now I have been fortunate enough to find a 
 small stray lamb in Carlsbad, and at once determined to 
 send it to her ; but I must first get it bound, that it may 
 to some extent be worthy of passing through the fairest of 
 fair hands. As she has so often spoken of me to you, I think 
 it will be nice to send it to her through you. Say nothing 
 about it, but let me know what you think and wish 
 
 With regard to the picture of St. Cecilia,t I can only 
 say, that the saint stands in the centre, and the small organ 
 she holds in her hands, she has allowed to droop in such a 
 way, that the pipes are slipping out, indicating that she is 
 losing hold of earthly music, whilst she looks . upwards, 
 listening to the heavenly ; the other saints do not stand in 
 any relation to her ; besides these, there are patron saints, of 
 the city, the Church, and of him for whom the picture was 
 
 • Under the title of Fandorms Wiederkwnfl. 
 
 t Zelter had asked the question, " In what relation to Saint Cecilia 
 do Faul and the Magdalen stand, as they are represented in Raphael's 
 picture ? " 
 
1820.] TO ZBLTBB. 199 
 
 painted, and these have no connection -with one another, 
 except that which the painter's art contrived to give them. 
 The Madmma del Pesce is composed exactly in the same 
 manner. The man who ordered the picture was probably 
 called Tobias 
 
 G. 
 
 139. — Zbltie to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 21st July, 1820. 
 .... I HATE now heard Spontini's Oortez twice. 
 The text is by De Jouy, and much better than the very 
 bad German translation given here. 1 am inclined to 
 prefer the music to that of the Vestalm, but I ought to 
 hear it much more often, as I have got a kind of general 
 view, but as yet, no firm point of observation. There are 
 certainly admirable passages, and the dances throughout 
 are quite excellent. My great puzzle is, that a highborn 
 Italian, proved in high things, should clothe high heroic 
 subjects with small melodious forms, whilst these again are 
 strongly prejudiced by the musical accompaniment. But 
 we shall see if we can find a firm point. E]or the rest, as 
 an artist, I am on very good terms with this composer ; he 
 approached me voluntarily, and very confidingly, as no 
 Italian or Frenchman has ever done before ; he has four 
 times visited the Smgakademie, and 1 gladly acknowledge 
 the interest he appears to take in it. . . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 140. — Goethe to Ziltbe. 
 
 Jena, 20th September, 1820. 
 , ... It is to my absolute state of solitude and 
 my habit of dictating, that you are indebted for this letter, 
 which I am finishing on the evening of the arrival of 
 yours. Bat that you, who have been rocking on the waves, 
 sniffing up sea smells, and longing for the shore, may enjoy 
 some happy hours this winter in peace and quiet, while 
 remembering the perilous grandeur of the sea,* let me 
 
 * In a previous letter, Zelter had described his voyage to Stralsund. 
 Putbus, and Eiiden. 
 
200 Goethe's letters [1820. 
 
 advise you to get' a poem called Olfried und Lisena; it 
 consists of ten Cantos, and over six hundred stanzas, and 
 is written by one August Hagen,* a youngster in Konigs- 
 berg. 
 
 Even tbougli the food may occasionally seem too light 
 for your strong palate and -good powers of digestion, you 
 are sure to be charmed, when you feel the very breath of 
 your own Baltic through the whole of the little volume. 
 It is a rare phenomenon, and has given me a great deal of 
 pleasure. 
 
 But now, to a subject with which I ought to have begun, 
 were it not that the joyful melodies of this world must sd 
 frequently be played con sordini. My daughter-in-law has 
 given birth to another fine boy ; but owing to her delicate 
 constitution, she sufBered fearfully, and to say the truth, I 
 am still anxious about her. I can say no more, except 
 
 that here too, I try to keep myself in Islam 
 
 G. 
 
 141.— Zeltie to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 23rd October, 1820. 
 Tbstbrdat for the second, and to-day for the third 
 time, I have been looking at your bust by Ranch. Cling- 
 ing as I do to the first impression, I still choose to com- 
 pare it with later ones, and find myself pretty well satisfied. 
 Anyhow, our artist, at very first sight, saw deeper into you 
 
 than any of his predecessors, who are known to me 
 
 The most pleasing picture of you is an original black chalk 
 drawing by G. M. Kraus, of the year 1776 ; Irecognize you 
 completely in it, although it no longer resembles you now. 
 Forehead, eye, nose, mouth, chin, and hair, aU come from 
 one centre, as the abode of what is in you and of what goes 
 
 * " There is August Hagen, in Kbnigsberg, a splendid talent ; have 
 you ever read his Olfried und Lisena ^ There you may find passages 
 which could not be better ; the situations on the Baltic, and the other 
 particulars of that locality, are all masterly. But these are only fine 
 passages ; as a whole, it pleases nobody. And what labour and power 
 he has lavished upon it ; indeed, he has almost exhausted himself. Now, 
 he has been writing a tragedy." In Kimst imd Alterthum Goethe had 
 advised Hagen to treat onlj- small subjects. See Conversations of Goethe 
 with Eckertnanfi., translated by Oxenford, p. 17. 
 
1820.] TO ZELTER. 201 
 
 forth from you. I coaxed this drawing out of old Nicolai's 
 heir ; he himself would never have given it to me. As I 
 write this, it hangs before my picture of Sebastian Bach ; 
 I copy their features, and it seems to me just as if we had 
 been young together 
 
 142. — GoiTHE TO Zelteb. 
 
 Weimar, 9th November, 1820. 
 
 .... I AM very well satisfied with Ranch's bust. 
 If he had kept it concealed, and not exhibited it, till he had 
 worked it out in marble, what is at present still problema- 
 tical in it would never have come to be discussed. 
 
 Meyer also gives excellent testimony in favour of the 
 picture after Albertinelli ; an artist who quitted this earthly 
 ball in 1520 may even then have left a good thing behind 
 him. For the rest, this afEair shows us, that our worthy 
 Berlin friends boast of no firmly established Biblical stand- 
 point ; we have often enough seen the Visitation of the 
 Blessed Virgin dated the 2nd of July, and marked as a red- 
 letter day in the Calendar, but we thought it meant, that she 
 had received a visit from Elizabeth, whereas the reverse is 
 really the case, for this Blessed Mary, being with child, 
 had gone over the hills to visit her friend. All this is 
 stated in detail, in the first chapter of St. Luke. Unques- 
 tionably the value of the picture is enhanced, when one 
 carefully examines, and has thoroughly mastered the pas- 
 sage mentioned 
 
 G. 
 
202 goithe's lbttees [1821. 
 
 1821. 
 
 143. — Goethe to Zbltbb. 
 
 Weimar, 18tli February, 1821. 
 .... At Easter, 1 propose to offer my friends a 
 fresh budget of Kunst vmd Alterthum, as well as a volume 
 of Wilhelm Meisters Wcmderjahre. 
 J After all, the greatest charm of an author's otherwise 
 hazardous life is, that while one is personally dumb to one's 
 friends, one is meanwhile preparing a great conyersation 
 with them in all parts of the world. 
 
 It is the same with the musician, but he must act diffe- 
 rently from certain friends, who do not allow their silent 
 and absent acquaintances to benefit by the penitential tones 
 of gentle Magdalenes, or by an appeal to the universal genius 
 
 of the world 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 
 QOETHE. 
 
 144. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 30th April, 1821. 
 TouB Alexander Boucher,* or Alexander the Great, 
 played here yesterday, with great applause. He reminds 
 me of Baron Bagge, with this difference, that when the fool 
 
 is subtracted from Boucher, a rare violin-player is left 
 
 His likeness to Napoleon, which was advertised beforehand, 
 attracted several people, although the room was not full 
 
 * Spohr, who met this well-known French violinist at Brussels in 
 1819, says of him, "His face bore a remarkable likeness to Napoleon 
 Bonaparte's, and he had evidently carefully studied the banished Em- 
 peror's way of bearing himself, lifting his hat, taking snuff, &c." He 
 traded upon this resemblance, and on one occasion, advertised a Concert 
 in these terms, "Une malheureuse ressemblance me force de m'ex- 
 patrier ; je donnerai done avant de quitter ma belle patrie, un concert 
 d'adienx." He called himself " 37 Alexandre des Violons." 
 
1821.J TO ZBLTER. 203 
 
 Madame Boucher was even more applauded. Her playing 
 on the piano and harp at the same time, shows her power 
 over both instruments, a power which demands long prac- 
 tice, on account of the contrary motion of arms and fingers, 
 queer as the whole thing is in itself. The composition of 
 the Concerto which she played, pleased me more than that 
 of her husband. Capellmeister Hummel has had a rare 
 ovation ; to-day he gives his second concert, and if he does 
 not return to Weimar in a pulpy condition, the heat is not 
 guilty of it, for it is exceptional. 
 
 The King has been to hear my Passion-music this year, 
 and sent me twenty Friedriohsd'or, which I gladly wel- 
 comed, as the little yellow discs are rare with me. Besides 
 this, he has been so gracious as to give me a site near the 
 University Garden, upon which I mean to build a hall for 
 
 my Singakademie 
 
 ■• Tours everlastingly, 
 
 Z. 
 
 145. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 20th August, 1821, 
 I MUST communicate to you an old discovery, which 
 I am now making for the second time. Turning over the 
 leaves of my Lessing, I stumble, in the twenty-third volume 
 of the Theatrical Remains, on the Hercules Furens of Seneca ; 
 herein I find the happiest of subjects for an Opera, and 
 what is still more, towards the end, Lessing himself is of 
 
 the same opinion I have a young pupil,* now at 
 
 work upon his third comic Opera, to whom I should like 
 to give a serious subject. The boy's talent is sound, his 
 work flows spontaneously, and he is industrious from love 
 of the thing. In due time, I think of sending him to Italy, 
 
 so that he may make his own way A new Opera, 
 
 Der Freisahiitz, by Maria von Weber, is making a fwrore. 
 A silly huntsman, the hero of the piece, lets himself be 
 enticed by necromancers, equally silly, into casting so- 
 called magic bullets, by means of sorcery, at midnight ; if 
 
 * Felix Mendelssohn. — The three Operas yrere,' Soldatenliebschaft, 
 Die Beiden Pddagoffen, and Die Wandemden Comodianten. 
 
204 Goethe's letters [1821. 
 
 he makes the best shot, he is to win the bride, who has 
 already phghted her troth to him, whom he at last — shoots 
 with this bullet ? Not a bit of it ! He does not even hit her. 
 She only falls down at the report, springs immediately to 
 her feet again, and marries him like a shot. Whether the 
 hitter hits off marriage any better, history sayeth not. 
 The music is greatly applauded, and is really so good, that 
 the public puts up with all the coal and gunpowder ex- 
 plosion. With all the forge-bellows, I trace but little 
 genuine passion. The women and children are crazy about 
 it; the devil is black, virtue white, stage animated, Or- 
 chestra lively, and that the composer is no Spinozist, you 
 may gather from this, that he has created so colossal a 
 
 work out of the aforesaid Nothing 
 
 Z. 
 
 146. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Jena, 28th September, 1821. 
 
 .... I WISH you would occasionally, with a few 
 
 strokes of your pen, which are so easy to you, lay hold 
 
 of the passing moment, and send it on some thirty miles 
 
 further. I should have thought that my efforts for you, 
 
 ye Athenians ! though they were not directed to each 
 individual, but to the dear community as a whole, deserved 
 some return. 
 
 I have spent my summer happily, undergoing my " cure : " 
 the Carlsbad catastrophe was a bad after-cure, for I have 
 so grown to the place, that I cannot bear to think of its 
 being destroyed. From the heights above Franzenbrunnen, 
 on that very 9th of September, I saw that mischievous 
 flood roll down upon the Topel region I know so well, 
 and but for strange chances, I should have been involved 
 in the calamity. In the days following, I had neither 
 courage nor call to go there, so the horses, which had been 
 ordered to drive me there, brought me home instead. 
 
 On arriving here, I find your dear letters and parcels, for 
 which my best thanks ; I have now got one of Streicher's 
 many-octaved pianos, and I am told it is a success, so 
 
 1 hope my winter will thereby become a little more 
 musical 
 
 G. 
 
1821. j to zeltbr. 205 
 
 147. — Goethe to Zilter. 
 
 Jena, 14tli October, 1821. 
 
 .... Eberwein is making arrangements for me 
 to hear, instead of only looking at, some of the music you 
 kindly intended for me, but if in the Chorus, Bichten ist 
 ein Ifeberm/uth, I restore the author, contrary to your 
 emendations, without injuring the musical rhythm, you 
 will perhaps pardon me. The poet feels strange, when he 
 discovers that he has been tricked, like the old gentleman, 
 fifteen hundred years ago. 
 
 I am much delighted with your kind words about the 
 Prologue ; * it chimes in with everything I have heard 
 and am still hearing. It adds very much to my peace of 
 mind, that in the quietest hermitage, far apart from the 
 centre of busy life, I could produce something, which at 
 a most important moment, was there found to be suitable 
 and pleasing. I hope that, by degrees, people will learn 
 to value the occasional poem, for those who know nothing 
 about the matter, and who imagine that such a thing as 
 an independent poem exists, are still for ever nagging at 
 it. Among the tame Xenien you will, in future, find the 
 following : — 
 
 Wouldst thou thyself a poet prove, 
 From heroes and shepherds hold aloof; 
 Here is Bhodes, man ! Dance away ! + 
 And to the occasion tune thy lay ! 
 
 I write these lines, dearest Friend, on the 14th of October, 
 in Jena, on the very spot, where so many years ago every- 
 thing was a mere ruin ; to-day, however, there is a Sun- 
 day quiet here, so that were it not for the sponsors and 
 other witnesses, who have come to assist at the state- 
 christening, one would suppose all the inhabitants had died 
 ofE. However, the old limes, the very trees which calmly 
 looked on at the tumult of the battle and the fires, still 
 clothe themselves in a glorious foliage of green ; and I 
 
 * A Prologue written by Goethe for the opening of the Berlin 
 Theatre. 
 
 t An allusion to the well-known saying, Sio Shod/us, hio salta. See 
 .^op's Fables. 
 
206 GOBTHl'S LBTTEBS [1821/ 
 
 still occasionally creep out of my most insignificant cottage, 
 into the botanical garden, where, it is true, I miss your 
 fair pupil; you can give her another kind message from 
 me. 
 
 I am glad that Boucher and his wife are doing so well ; 
 for that is industry and practice, backed by natural talent. 
 I entirely approve of what you say about the human voice. 
 When I heard Catalani in Carlsbad, I said, very appro- 
 priately, on the spur of the moment : — 
 
 In drawing-room as in lofty hall, 
 
 Never enough one hears ; 
 Now first we learn, and once for all, 
 
 The reason we have ears. 
 
 .... A copy of raj Wanderjahre will follow shortly. If you 
 should happen to meet Carl Ernst Schubarth of Breslau, 
 be kind to him for my sake ; he has written something on 
 my Faust, and is now publishing his Ideen uber Homer imd 
 sdn Zeitalter, a little book that I can greatly praise, for it 
 puts one into a good humour. Those who are fond of 
 pulling" things to pieces, will not like it, because it reconciles 
 and unites. ^ 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 O. 
 
 148. — Zbltbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th October, 1821. 
 .... To-MORROW early, I, with my Doris, and a 
 pupil of mine, Herr Mendelssohn's son, a lively boy of 
 twelve years old, start for Wittenberg, to attend the fSte 
 there. You shall hear from Wittenberg, if I am coming — 
 three strong — ^to Weimar. As your house is full enough, 
 I shall put up at my good " Elephant," where I have 
 always been treated thoroughly well ; only let me see you 
 again ; I thirst to be near you. I should like to show your 
 face to my Doris, and my best pupil, before I leave this 
 world, — ^in which however, it is my desire to remain as long 
 a£ possible. The pupil is a good and pretty boy, lively and 
 obedient. To be sure, he is the son of a Jew, but no Jew 
 
1821 .J TO ZELTEE. 207 
 
 / 
 
 himself. Tke father, with remarkable self-denial, has let 
 his sons learn something, and educates them properly ; it 
 ■would really be eppes Bores, (something rare,) if the son 
 of a Jew turned out an artist. .... 
 
 Z, 
 
208 Goethe's letters [1822. 
 
 1822. 
 
 149. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 5th February, 1822. 
 .... Mt kind greetings to Dorchen, and thanks 
 for her kindness to Ulrike * ; say a good word for me to 
 Felix and his parents too. Since yon left, my piano has 
 been dumb; one single endeavour to re-awaken it was 
 next door to a failure. However, I hear a great deal of 
 talk about music, — which is always a poor sort of amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 Farewell ! In your Berlin glory think of me who, in 
 my sunny little back-room, think of you only too often. 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 G. 
 
 150. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 13th March, 1822. 
 .... My best thanks for your affection and hospi- 
 tality to the good child, Ulrike ; she has returned home 
 safely, and has a great deal to tell us. In her nice natural 
 way, she sees things very clearly and -plainly, and they 
 stand before her, even as though they were present ; one 
 cannot say that she criticises, but she compares, with 
 great insight. I am surprised that she did not write at 
 
 once, for she is still perpetually with you in thought 
 
 Of our Grand Duchess, I can only say that one's admira- 
 tion and respect for her are ever on the increase ; she has 
 had two falls, both times hurting herself considerably, but 
 she is always equal to herself, never wavering, nor swerving 
 from her line of 'conduct ; besides this, she makes it her 
 business to keep the young people who like dancing and 
 fStes, on the move, and although a sufferer herself, to make 
 
 * Uhrike von Pogwisch, the younger sister of Goethe's daughter-in- 
 law, Ottilie. Dorohen is Zelter's daughter, Doris. 
 
1822.] TO ZELTIE. 209 
 
 others happy. She generally comes to see me once a week ; 
 so I always have ready something of interest to lay before 
 her, and the calm and thorough interest she takes in all 
 kinds of subjects, is a most delightful recompense 
 
 All my belongings are well and happy, the grandchildren 
 in particular are faultless ; the life that is newly springing 
 up is still in its first bloom, when the very defects of our 
 nature seem graceful 
 
 My opponents do not mislead me ; has not everyone in 
 the world, and more especially in Germany, to get accus- 
 tomed to this sort of thing ? My noble opponents, in 
 physics especially, seem to me like Catholic priests, who 
 would fain refute a Protestant by the Council of Trent. 
 
 Schubarth is a remarkable man; it is difficult to foretell 
 in what direction he can succeed. Indeed, as literature 
 now stands, especially German literature, which grasps 
 and overgrasps at everything, clever young men work 
 their way up to a clear survey more quickly, and perceive 
 only too soon, that there is no special satisfaction in c/riti- 
 cising. They feel they must proSuce, so as in some measure 
 to satisfy themselves and others. This, however, is not 
 given to everyone, so I have seen the best heads at vari- 
 ance with themselves 
 
 G. 
 151. — Zeltek to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 17th March, 1822. 
 .... Felix is well and industrious. His third 
 Opera * is finished and written out, and will soon be per- 
 formed among his friends. After his return from Weimar 
 he also finished a Gloria, besides writing more than half a 
 pianoforte Concerto for his sister ; he has begun a Magnificat 
 too. Even if I myself fail to do anything much, anyhow I 
 keep my boys to it, and half-a-dozen of these positively 
 
 delight me 
 
 Zelter. 
 
 • See note to Letter 145. 
 
210 gobthe's lettees [1822. 
 
 152. — Goethe to Zbltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 31st March, 1822. 
 
 If you wish to understand and explain problema,tical 
 pictures, such as the one in question by Titian, the follow- 
 ing considerations must be borne in mind. Since the 
 thirteenth century, when people began to abandon the 
 Byzantine style, which was still indeed respectable, but 
 ended by being quite dry and mummified, — and to turn to 
 nature, the artist considered nothing too high, nothing too 
 deep for him to try and represent directly from reality ; 
 nay, the demand by degrees went so far, that pictures had, 
 like a kind of paper of patterns, to include everything 
 within the range of the eye. A picture of this kind had 
 to be filled to the very edge with important and detailed 
 matter ; hence the inevitable result was, that figures foreign 
 to and in no way connected with the main subject, together 
 with other objects, were introduced, as proofs of the general 
 skill of the artist. In Titian's day, the painter still wil- 
 lingly yielded to such requirements. 
 
 Now let us turn to the picture itself. In an open varied 
 landscape, and almost at the edge of the picture, on the 
 left hand, with rocks and tree adjoining, we see the loveliest 
 nude maiden, resting herself as comfortably, composedly, 
 and quietly, as on a lonely bed. If she were cut out, we should 
 have a perfect picture as it is, and want nothing more ; in 
 the present masterpiece, however, the first intention was to 
 represent the glory of the human form in its outer mani- 
 festation. Further, behind her stands a high narrow- 
 necked vessel, probably for the sake of the metallic sheen ; 
 a, soft wreath of smoke issuing from it. Can this be meant 
 to indicate the piety of the beautiful woman, a silent 
 prayer, or what ? 
 
 For we are soon aware, that this is the picture of a notable 
 person. To the right, on the opposite side, lies a skull, and 
 out of the cleft close by, appears the arm. of a man, not yet 
 bared of flesh and muscle. 
 
 We soon see the connection ; for between those bones, 
 and that divine form, wriggles a small active dragon, 
 greedily eying the tempting prey. But lest we should be 
 
1822.] TO ZBLTEB. 211 
 
 Bomewhat anxious on her account, lying so quietly, as she 
 does, whilst she seems to hold back the dragon by a spell, 
 there rushes forth from the darkest of thunder-clouds an 
 armed knight, mounted on a strange fire-breathing lion ; 
 these two will probably soon make an end of the dragon. 
 And thus we see, although in rather an odd way, that it 
 represents St. George threatening the dragon, and the lady 
 whom he is to rescue. 
 
 Now on examining the landscape, we find that it is not 
 in any way in keeping with the incident ; on the principle 
 stated above, it is merely as remarkable as possible in 
 itself, and yet the figures described are happily placed 
 there. 
 
 Between two rocky banks, a steeper one thickly wooded, 
 and a flatter one with less undergrowth of vegetation, a 
 river runs towards us, at first rushing, then gently flowing 
 along ; the steep bank on the right is crowned by a mighty 
 ruin, huge shapeless masses of masonry, still remaining, 
 indicate the power and strength displayed in their con- 
 struction. Single pillars, nay, a statue left in its niche, 
 indicate the grace of a royal residence such as this was ; 
 the force of time, however, has made all the efforts of 
 human skill useless and futile. 
 
 On the opposite shore, we are reminded of more recent 
 times : there stand mighty towers, fortifications that have 
 been newly erected, or perfectly restored, newly made em- 
 brasures and battlements ; far in the background, however, 
 the two banks are connected by a bridge, which reminds 
 one of the Ponte degli Angeli, in the same way as the tower 
 behind it suggests the Castle of St. Angela. From the 
 prevailing love of truth and reality, such confusion of place 
 and time was not laid to the account of the artist. But 
 leaving the strictest congruity out of the question, we 
 could not alter a single line, without injuring the com- 
 position. 
 
 We greatly admire the exquisitely poetical thunder-cloud 
 which brings in the knight ; but without having the picture 
 before one, it is impossible to discuss such points in detail. 
 On the one side, it seems to disengage itself from the ruin 
 like a dragon's tail, but in spite of all Zoomorphism, one 
 cannot interpret the whole into any special form ; on the 
 
212 goethb's le'itbes [1822, 
 
 other side, between the bridge and the fortifications, a fire 
 breaks out, the smoke of which is rising in gentle wreaths 
 up to the fire-breathing jaws of the lion, and comes into 
 contact with him. Enough, although at first we spoke of 
 this composition as collective, we cannot but reflect that it 
 has been woven into unity, and prize it accordingly. 
 In haste, yours truly, 
 
 163. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 7th April, 1822. 
 
 yEST"EEDAT, Saturday, Madame Mara came to me of 
 her own accord, on foot too, to help me, she said, to count 
 my well-deserved fees. Just think of this seventy-two- 
 year-old matron, this demon of a singer, being touched 
 by our Messiah. The pain and the bliss, she declares, 
 carried her quite away ; the audience must have thought 
 her sUly. The Fugues went so smoothly, an organ of living 
 voices. She has often enough sung in this Oratorio in 
 London ; she summed up by confessing that our performance 
 might vie with those in London, of which the English are 
 sufficiently proud. 
 
 9tb April. 
 
 Yesterday evening came Professor Hegel, to tell us that 
 our friend Isegrimm was seriously ill, and inquiring for 
 me. I was with him this afternoon. I found him in bed, 
 and really very weak. He asked me to see that he was 
 buried before sunrise, to a good blast of trumpets. I said 
 Yes, and he should have a good dead march besides, pro- 
 vided he would so manage his decease, that I should be at 
 hand. He has forbidden a post-mortem examination, 
 shaving, shrouds and all such things ; whoever is ignorant 
 shall learn nothing through him. The worms will be 
 hungry enough without all that ; he is not so proud as to 
 let himself be served up daintily for unfamiliar guests. It 
 seems he wishes to outlive the executors of his last will, 
 and I am glad not to make one of the worms, which are to 
 hunger for his corpse. He was just then asking the doctor, 
 whether he might eat sausage or macoaroni, and such 
 things. He has begun to dictate a farewell letter to you, 
 
1822.] TO ZELTER. 213 
 
 ■which perhaps he means to finish, when he is completely 
 recovered. I doubt his being so bad ; I should be sorry to 
 lose him, for I learn from him ; so he may just as well live 
 
 till he is dead ' 
 
 Z. 
 
 154. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Eger, Sth August, 1822. 
 
 It was quite right of you to open up a conversation 
 with me again, whilst you were in those outlandish, pious 
 countries ; * in return for it, you shall soon have back again 
 a clean copy of your letter. If I continually thought of 
 you all last winter, while I was drawing up in manuscript, 
 and correcting in proof what you are now devouring, f I 
 am well rewarded by your welcome pages, which have for 
 ever set at rest my wish to see Moravia in its own indi- 
 viduality. So be it then ! The beautiful white hall (washed 
 clean in the blood of Christ, according to Zacharias Werner's 
 priceless Fool's Sonnet), shall now never be entered by me, 
 
 were I ever so well able to get about 
 
 Nor am I anxious on your account: your nature knows 
 how to assimilate, and after all, everything depends upon 
 this. If people understood their own advantage, they would 
 not blame anything traditionally handed down ; what does 
 not please us we should let alone, in order to take it up at 
 some future time perhaps. Mankind does not understand 
 this, and treats an author like the master of a cookshop; 
 in return for that, they are served with sausages bought at 
 the fairs, to their heart's content : — 
 
 " Boys read their Terence with a different joy 
 To that of Grotius, when he reads him too." 
 The saying made me angry as a boy, 
 Though now I cannot choose but own it true. 
 
 If I read Homer now, he seems different to what he was 
 to me ten years ago ; if one lived to be three hundred 
 years old, he would always seem different. To convince 
 oneself of this, one need only look backwards ; from the 
 
 * Zelter had written at length to Goethe, about his religious expe- 
 riences in Moravia. 
 ■|- Vol. ix, of Aus meinein Leben. ^ 
 
214 Goethe's litties [1822. 
 
 Pisistratid89 to our own Wolf, what difEerent sorts of faces 
 does the old father make ! 
 
 I am overjoyed that Wolf, (the friend in question,) has 
 not been burnt, or eaten up by the fever, for I should not 
 willingly miss him above-ground. We shall not see his 
 like again. Would that God had willed him friendly, in 
 addition to so many other qualities ! And yet, how can all 
 these contradictory things be reconciled ? 
 
 I am very pleased that you approve of my treatment of 
 that dirty Campaign ; * to play Grazioso in such a tragedy 
 is always something of a part 
 
 My greatest gain of late is the personal acquaintance 
 of Count Caspar Sternberg, with whom formerly I cor- 
 responded. Having from early days been consecrated to 
 the priesthood, he finally became Canon of Ratisbon ; when 
 there, he acquired, in ad.dition to his knowledge of secular 
 and state affairs, a love for the study of Nature, more espe- 
 cially the vegetable kingdom, for which department he 
 has done a great deal. When driven from his post by the 
 subversion of Germany, he returned to Bohemia, his native 
 country, and now lives partly in Prague, partly on estates 
 inherited from his elder brother. Here Nature once more 
 kindly comes to his aid. He possesses important coal 
 mines, in the roof of which the rarest kinds of plants have 
 been preserved, and inasmuch as they show forms analogous 
 only to the vegetation of the most Southern regions, they 
 point to the remotest epochs of the earth. He has already 
 published two books of them ; when you have an oppor- 
 tunity, get some naturalist to show them to you 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Bnclosueb, 
 
 He. 
 
 I thought that in myself I felt no pain, 
 
 Yet hollow were the chambers of my brain. 
 
 And at my heart a silent terror hung, 
 
 And round my brows th' enchaining darkness clung, 
 
 * The Campagne in Franireiok, which Goethe had just published ag 
 the Fifth Part of the Second Division of Aus meinem Leben. 
 
1822.] TO ZELTIR. 215 
 
 ITntil the tears are flowing thick and fast, 
 And the restrained Farewell pours forth at last.— 
 Tranquil and full of cheer was her Farewell, 
 Yet now, perchance, I think she weeps as well. 
 
 She. 
 
 It must be. Ay, and he is gone ! 
 My dear ones, leave me but alone, 
 The secret of my strangeness keeping. 
 It will not last for ever and a day ; 
 But now that he is gone away, 
 1 have no choice but weeping. 
 
 He. 
 
 I am not in the mood for sorrow. — 
 
 What are the mellow gifts to me, 
 
 That we may pluck from every tree. 
 
 Since joy from none of them I borrow ! 
 
 The day is wearisome and vain, 
 
 Tedious it is, when night lights up her fires, 
 
 Thy gentle image to renew again 
 
 Is now the only end of my desires. 
 
 And didst thou feel this longing as I feel it, 
 
 Thou'dst come half-way to meet me, nor conceal it. 
 
 She. 
 
 Since I appear not, thou far off art grieving. 
 Fears lest I prove untrue thy heart deceiving, 
 For else the image of my soul were here. 
 Doth Iris then adorn the blue of heaven? — 
 Let the rain fall, flash out the colours seveuj 
 See, thou art weeping ! I again appear. 
 
 He. 
 
 Most like indeed to Iris' heavenly bow. 
 My tender miracle of beauty, thou ! 
 Bending in splendour, bright with harmony, 
 Ever the same and ever new, as she. 
 
 The Present of itself knows nought, 
 The Parting feels itself with terror duly, 
 Distance behind thyself will drag thee caught, 
 Absence alone knows how to value truly. 
 
 Weimar, 14th December, 1822. 
 
216 gobthe's letters [1823. 
 
 1823. 
 
 155. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 18th January, 1823. 
 .... One can never acquire any cheerful relation- 
 Bhip with philologists and mathematicians. The handicraft 
 of the former is to emend, of the latter to define; now 
 there are in life so many defects {mendce) to be found, and 
 every single day has enough in itself to define, so that into our 
 intercourse with such men, there enters a certain lif elessness, 
 which brings death to all communication. Were I obliged 
 to think that a friend to whom I dictate a letter, would 
 formulate over the use and position of words, nay, even 
 / over the punctuation, which I leave to my amanuensis, I 
 should instantly*feel paralyzed, and there coald be no sense 
 of freedom. . 
 
 Tours eternally, 
 
 156. — August von Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 26th February, 1823. 
 HONOUEED FeIEND, 
 
 We have lately passed a very sad and anxious 
 time ; on the I7th of this month, my poor father was 
 suddenly attacked by inflammation of the pericardium, 
 probably too, of a part of the heart itself; this was ac- 
 companied by inflammation of the pleura, which brought 
 him, during this week, to the point of death. Fortu- 
 nately .on the 24th, the ninth day, came the crisis so 
 earnestly desired by the doctors, and at the present moment, 
 all danger seems to have passed away. We hope that my 
 father's naturally strong and good constitution, which has 
 enabled him, at his great age, to overcome this serious 
 illness, may also help him to get the better of any of the 
 
1823.] TO ZELTIE. 217 
 
 consequences that may ensue. I send these lines to relieve 
 your mind, with the request that you will communicate the 
 news to Staatsrath Langermann, Count Briihl, and other 
 sympathetic friends. Farewell, and remember me kindly 
 to Doris. The enclosed letter is from Ulrike to Doris, and 
 was written long ago. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 August t. Goethe. 
 
 157. — August von Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 16th March, 1823, 
 HONOUEBD FeIEND, 
 
 I gladly take up my pen again to tell you, that the 
 improved state of my father's health has continued, and 
 that his recovery is steadily progressLug. He is again at 
 work with his Kunst imd AltertJivm, and Morphologie, and 
 thus by degrees, we are getting back into our old ways; 
 one of these is that we are dining together again. 
 
 With what strange joy do wfc again look into the future ! 
 And how does the immediate past lie, like a hideous dream, 
 behind us ! . 
 
 Please let Staatsrath Langermann see these lines, and 
 give him our kindest greetings ; my kind remembrances 
 also to our friend Doris. I received a very sympathetic 
 letter from Herr Mendelssohn, and must beg to be kindly 
 remembered to him. Tour dear Songs came safely, and 
 greatly delight my father, like everything else that comes 
 from you. 
 
 Tours very faithfully, 
 
 August von Goethe. 
 
 (Enclosure written in pencil, in Goethe's own hand, on a separate leaf.) 
 
 The first evidence of my renewed life and love, from 
 Tours gratefully and affectionately, 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
218 Goethe's letters [1823. 
 
 158. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 7th March, 1823. 
 
 Mx Felix has entered his fifteenth year ; he grows 
 under my eyes. His marvellous pianoforte playing I may 
 look upon as quite ' a secondary matter ; he may just as 
 easily become a master on the violin. The Second Act of 
 his fourth Opera * is finished. All he does becomes more 
 solid, strength and power are scarcely wanting now ; every- 
 thing comes from within, he is only touched externally by 
 things external. Imagine my joy, if we should live to see 
 the boy live, and fulfil the promise of his innocence. He 
 is healthy. I should like his very beautiful Pianoforte 
 Quartett to be dedicated to your Grand Princess. Tell me 
 how we ought to set about it ? And tell me soon. It is 
 quite new, and still better than the one he let you hear in 
 Weimar. 
 
 Tours everlastingly, 
 Z. 
 
 159. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Marienbad, 24th July, 1823. 
 .... This place as a whole, and especially the 
 part where I reside, is favourable enough for company ; it 
 is a terrace of handsome houses, flanked by two large 
 buildings of equal size, which would make a figure in any 
 town. The Grand Duke lives in the centre, and for- 
 tunately the whole neighbourhood is occupied by pretty 
 women and intelligent men. Older associations become 
 blended with new ones, and a past life makes one believe 
 in a present. 
 
 As I have perhaps been more occupied with the science 
 of the earth than was fair, I am now beginning on the 
 atmospheric kingdoms ; and were it only to learn the 
 process of one's own thinking and ability to think, that is 
 already a foretaste of reward. We know very well that 
 man must attract and assimilate everything to himself, 
 God Himself and the God-like ; but this very attraction 
 has its degrees, — it may be either lofty or commonplace. 
 
 * See Not^ to Letter 162. 
 
1823.] TO ZELTER. 219 
 
 However, my most prosperous work is the revision of 
 the chronicles of my life. After various attempts, I have 
 finally started from the latest period, for, my memory 
 being fresh about this, I do not need to trouble myself 
 long as to material ; finally I perceive — thus working 
 backwards — that what is familiar and present recalls the 
 past, the forgotten. 
 
 In this sense, it must be of great moment to me, if dis- 
 tant friends regard what goes forth from me in print as 
 addressed to them ; for I see the time close at hand, when 
 my voice will no longer be directly heard in writing. It 
 is therefore very comforting to me, that you have all given 
 my last member a kindly welcome : in each of those num- 
 bers, there is more life stowed away, than one would imagine 
 from the view of it. Unfortunately, people nowadays read 
 only for the sake of getting through the pages, therefore a 
 still greater capability is required in the writer, that he 
 may leave behind him a witness that he has not laboured 
 in vain. 
 
 If you should find the pages of this letter in harmony 
 with the most solemn, pine-clad peaks, seen from on 
 high, consider my surroundings, where a thunderstorm, 
 broadening out far away from the mountains, is sending 
 down lightnings, thunder, and rain over the whole country. 
 All our neighbourly world is away, and I am as good as 
 
 alone on this wonderful spot 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 J. W. VON Goethe. 
 
 169a. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 17th August, 1823. 
 .... To-day, being the 1 7th of August, Rosenmeier, 
 (an old military surgeon,) was talking to me about his old 
 King, Frederick the Great, whose last hour he vividly 
 described to me. When Hertzberg, the Minister, came 
 into the sick-room, on the day of the King's death, the 
 King called out to him, " If you want a watchman, apply 
 to me ; I can serve you, so that you shall praise my vigi- 
 lance." The Minister brought papers with him, and the 
 King stretched out his arm to receive them. " Give me 
 
220 Goethe's letters [1823. 
 
 them ! So long as the little lamp glimmers, it must be 
 used; hurry everything up, life is short." After the 
 death, women came, -who were already prepared to wash 
 the corpse ; Rosenmeier forbade them. The King had 
 always shown, even in illness, an insuperable modesty.* 
 Consequently Rosenmeier was there at once to undress the 
 corpse, to wash and examine it, and he declares on his 
 honour, that he found the whole body perfectly natural and 
 sound. I observed, that my father had already contradicted 
 a certain rumour, saying, " It is incredible ; so healthy a 
 spirit and so sickly a body could not get on together for 
 so long." , , . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 160. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Eger, 24th August, 1823. 
 In reply to your welcome letter, dearest Friend, 
 which reached me at a very fortunate moment, I shall — in 
 accordance with my promise — before quitting the charmed 
 circle of Bohemia, again address a letter to you, which you 
 will welcome the more kindly and affectionately, as I have 
 nothing but good news to communicate. 
 
 To begin with then, let me say that during the time I 
 lately spent in Marienbad, I met with no disagreeables of 
 any kind, nay, was cheerful as though returning to life 
 again, and am now feeling better than I have done for 
 long. 
 
 Further I must tell you, that after receiving that kiss, 
 the bestower of which you probably guessed, I was favoured 
 by another splendid gift from Berlin ; for I have heard 
 Madame Milder sing four little Songs, which she con- 
 trived to make so great, that the remembrance of them 
 still draws tears from my eyes. So the praise I have 
 heard bestowed upon her for so many years past, is no 
 longer a cold historical word, but awakens true and 
 • deeply-felt emotion. Give her my kindest remembrances. 
 She asked me for something from my own hand, and will 
 receive through you the first leaflet, that is not absolutely 
 unworthy of her. 
 
 * See Preusz's Friedrich der Grosse, vol. i. p. 364. 
 
1823.] TO ZELTIR. 221 
 
 Madame Szymanowska,* an incredibly fine pianiste, 
 afEected me just as powerfully, though, in quite a difBerent 
 way. I fancy she might be compared to our Hummel, 
 only that she is a lovely and amiable Polish lady. When 
 Hummel ceases playing, there rises up a Gnome before 
 us, who, by the help of powerful demons, has performed 
 such wonders, that one scarcely dares thank him for them ; 
 but when she stops playing, and comes and looks at us, 
 we do not feel sure, whether we may not consider ourselves 
 fortunate, that she has stopped. Give her a friendly wel- 
 come, when she comes to Berlin, which will probably be 
 before very long ; remember me to her, and help her when 
 yon can 
 
 Forgive this,t and let me be silent, for too much has 
 been said already ; however, to an honest and penetrating 
 thinker, it is revolting to see a whole generation — and one 
 that is not quite to be despised — irretrievably involved in 
 ruin. The older ones are already aware of it, but they can 
 neither save themselves, nor do they care to warn others : 
 for they are already a sect, which must keep together, if it 
 is to be of any importance, — a sect, in which the incomer 
 deceives himself, and the outgoer deceives the rest. Again 
 I ask your pardon, for I ask it of myself ; one always spoils 
 an hour, by raking up such fruitless sorrows. 
 
 It is comfortless too, to listen to political discussions, 
 from whatever quarter. To get quit of all such things, , 
 as well as of sesthetic conversations and lectures, I devoted 
 myself for six weeks to a very pretty child, f and was thus 
 perfectly secured against all outward disagreeables. 
 
 But now for the strangest thing of aU ! The immense 
 power that music had over me in those days ! Milder's 
 voice, the rich sounds of Szymanowska, nay, even the public 
 performances of the local Jagersoorps untwisted me, just as 
 
 * Pianiste to the Empress of Bussia, Goethe acknowledged his debt 
 to her In the poem Atissohrmng. 
 
 + A tirade against the shallow dilettantism of the day, as illustrated 
 in the case of Hensel, and other young painters. 
 
 J Ulrike Ton Levezow, Goethe's " Stella," daughter of the lady who 
 was the original of " Pandora." The affair became so serious, that 
 marriage was talked of, and the mother broke off everything, by suddenly 
 leaving Marienbad. Goethe commemorated his resolution to give up 
 Ulrike in the Megie. 
 
222 Goethe's letteks [1823. 
 
 one lets a clenched fist gently flatten itself out. By way of 
 partially explaining this, I say to myself — " For two years 
 and more, you have not heard any masic at all, except 
 Hummel, twice, and therefore this faculty — so far as it 
 exists in you — has been lying shut up and apart ; now, all 
 of a sudden, the Heavenly One falls upon you, and through 
 the intervention of great talents, exercises her full power 
 over you, claims all her rights, and awakens all your dor- 
 mant recollections." I feel perfectly convinced, that I should 
 have to leave the hall, at the first bar I might hear from 
 your Singahademie. And when I now consider, what it is, 
 to hear an Opera, as we give them, but once a week, (a Don 
 Jucm, or a Matrvmonio Segreto,} renewing it within oneself, 
 and assimilating this feeling with the others that form 
 part of an active life, then, for the first time, do I under- 
 stand what it is, to have to dispense with such an enjoy- 
 ment, which, like all the higher enjoyments of life, takes a 
 man out of and above himself, and lifts him, at the same 
 time, out of the world and above it. 
 
 How good, how imperative then, it should be for me, to 
 have an opportunity of spendiug some time by your side ! 
 By gently guiding and directing me, you would cure my 
 morbid irritability, which, after all, must be regarded as the 
 cause of the above phenomenon, and you would, little by 
 little, enable me to take into myself the whole wealth of 
 Grod's fairest revelation. Now I must see, how I can get 
 through a dumb and shapeless winter, which in some 
 measure, I look forward to with horror. However, we 
 must endeavour, with good humour and courage, to turn 
 the black days to account, for ourselves and our friends. 
 A thousand times, my sincerest farewell ! 
 
 G. 
 
1824] TO ZILTER. 223 
 
 1824. 
 
 161. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 9th January, 1824. 
 
 .... I ENCLOSE one of my mother's letters, as you 
 ■wished to have it ; throughout, as in every line she wrote, 
 there speaks the character of a woman who — God-fearing 
 as she was, in the Old Testament way — led a good life, 
 fuU of confidence in the unchangeable God of nations and 
 families, and who — when herself announcing her approach- 
 ing death — made all the arrangements for her funeral so 
 precisely, that the kind of wine and the size of the crack- 
 nels on which the mourners were to feast, were accurately 
 fixed 
 
 Ottilie is now in Berlin, and wiU flit about there from 
 hour to hour, till she is obliged to pause now and then ; 
 perhaps after attaining her object of being again driven 
 through the Brandenburg Gate, there may be at least some 
 diminution of the hurry, without which, indeed, one can 
 scarcely imagine her. Tou will, I know, be all kindness 
 to her. Nothiag very good can happen, without exciting 
 her lively temperament.* .... 
 
 Do you know the following lines ? They have grown 
 to my heart; you really must draw them off again, by 
 winning tones : — 
 
 Most like indeed to Iris' heavenly bow. 
 My tender miracle of beauty, thou ! 
 Bending in splendour, bright with harmon)'. 
 Ever the same and ever new, as she. 
 
 Commending you to all good spirits, 
 
 G. 
 
 * Ottilia and her husband had begun to be on bad terms with each 
 other, and she had joined her mother in Berlin, where she made the 
 acquaintance of a young Englishman, whose attentions to her met with 
 only too much encouragement. 
 
224 goithe's letters [1824. 
 
 Bnclostjkb. 
 From Goithe's Mother to her Son. 
 
 Ist October, 1802. 
 
 Dear Son, 
 
 My best thanks for your willingness to give a 
 helping hand to Herr SchofE Mellecher, with his hobby- 
 horse. I am always pleased, when you can show a 
 Frankfurter any kindness, for you are with us still, and 
 live in our midst — are a citizen — share in everything — 
 your name stands in Barrentrap's Calendar, amongst the 
 advocates ; sv/mma swmrmwrwm — you still belong to us, and 
 your compatriots esteem it an honour to themselves, that 
 they can reckon so great and famoas a man, among their 
 fellow-citizens. Eduard Schlosser brought me your wel- 
 come greetiug. I hope he is doing well, and Fritz Schlosser 
 also, but I am often anxious about Christian. That young 
 man is so very conceited— fancies he knows more than 
 almost all his contemporaries, has extraordinary ideas, &c. 
 He has a great opinion of you ; if you can cool him down, 
 pray do so. In that you are willing to send me some of 
 the fruits of your mind, you do a good work ; there is a 
 great unfmitfulness amongst us — and your little brook, 
 which has water in abundance, will do my thirsty soul 
 good. I have plans in my head for your coming next 
 year, and one plan is always brighter than the other — 
 that will right itself. Please Grod, we all keep in good 
 health, and we shall be able to manage the rest. Farewell ! 
 Greet my dear daughter, and our dear August, from 
 Tour faithful old Mother and Grandmother, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 162. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Sunday, 8th February, 1824. 
 .... Yesterday evening, we had a private perform- 
 ance of Felix's fourth Opera, * complete with Dialogue. There 
 are three Acts, which, with two ballets, occupy some two 
 hours and a half ; the work had its due meed of applause. 
 
 * Die Beiden Neffen, oder Ber Onkel am Boston, — still in manuscript. 
 
1824] TO Z18LTEE. 225 
 
 The text, too, by Dr. Casper, is clever enough, as the poet 
 is musical. From my weak side I can hardly master my 
 surprise, at a lad, just fifteen years old, progressing with 
 such great strides. I find everywhere novelty, beauty, 
 perfect originality; there is mind, flow, calm, sonority, 
 completeness, dramatic force. The " Ensemble " shows an 
 old hand. Orchestration interesting, not oppressive, nor 
 wearisome, not mere accompaniment. The musicians 
 enjoy playing it, and yet it is not so easy after all. Familiar 
 things come and go past, not as though they were borrowed*, 
 but rather welcome and appropriate, each in its own place. 
 Liveliness, exultation, no over-hurry, tenderness, elegance, 
 love, passion, innocence. The Overture is a strange thing. 
 Imagine for yourself a painter, who smudges a cake of 
 paint on the canvas, picking out the mass with finger and 
 brash, until at last, to our increasing astonishment, he ends 
 by producing such a group that we cast about for the 
 actual occasion of it, since what is true must really have 
 happened. To be sure, I speak like a grandfather, who 
 spoils his grandchildren. Never mind. I know what I 
 say, and insist that I have said nothing but what I can 
 prove. First of all, by unstinted applause, paid most sin- 
 cerely by Orchestra and singers ; it is easy to see from 
 them, whether coldness or repugnance, whether love and 
 favour, move their fingers and throats. You must know 
 
 all about that 
 
 Z. 
 
 163. GOBTHB TO ZeLTEK. 
 
 Weimar, 8th March, 1824, 
 .... First of all, please give my kind remem- 
 brances to Herr Streckfuss; I have always followed his 
 literary progress, poetical and otherwise, with great respect, 
 though I have not earlier acknowledged his letter and 
 parcel. This — situated as I was and feeling as I did — was 
 often impossible : for as I could not reply to any confidence 
 reposed in me with empty or specious phrases, and yet 
 was incapable of always appreciating at the moment every- 
 thing put before me, I got into arrears with many eminent 
 men, and have done so more and more of late. So give 
 
 Q 
 
226 Goethe's letters [1824. 
 
 Hm my kindest remembrances, and thank him for the 
 souvenir. The little Book of ButJi * works in rattlesnake 
 fashion upon all poetically productive minds ; one cannot 
 refrain from rearrangement, paraphrase, and enlargement 
 of the subject-matter, which is certainly very pleasing, but 
 nevertheless lies very far out of our way. I am anxious to 
 see how the poet has acted in this instance. 
 
 Now I must tell you that the library here has purchased 
 at a Niiremberg auction, a manuscript bearing the title, 
 ^ahulatwr-Buch geistUcher Oesdnge Dr. Martini Lutheri und 
 anderer gottseUger Mdmier, swrmnt beygefiigten Ohoralfugen 
 durchs ganze Jahr. Allen Liebhahern des Olaviers componiret 
 von Joha/nM Pachelbeln, Organisten zu St. Sebald in Nii/rnh&rg, 
 1704. If it would interest you, I could send it to you, at 
 all events, to look at. It is bound in leather, has been 
 gilt-edged, and looks exactly like an old piece of church 
 furniture, although in a good state of preservation ; it 
 contains two hundred and forty-seven melodies. 
 
 Tour report of Felix is all that could be desired, and is 
 touching when considered as text and commentary ; would 
 that I could give you a similar account of one of my 
 scholars ! but unfortunately Poetry and Plastic Art have no 
 recognized basis like yours. The most absurd empiri- 
 cism is met with everywhere — artists and amateurs are 
 equally insufficient ; the one creates, the other criticises 
 without any reason ; consequently we have to wait till a 
 man of decided talent steps forth, and perceives what is 
 rational outside himself, because it lies concealed within 
 him. 
 
 The Carnival gaieties ended badly for my household ; in 
 the last Cotillon — that mischievous dance of which boys 
 and girls can never have enough— Ulrike had a bad fail 
 on the back of her head, and her brain has not yet reco- 
 vered from the shock. The Doctors make the best of the 
 matter, but I do not know what will come of it. 
 
 Ottilie was met by this trouble, on her return, and after 
 all the pomp and gaiety in Berlin, she will have to help us 
 to pay for it 
 
 * " Streokfuss has been incited by you yourself to turn the Book of 
 Kuth into four metrical Songs," writes Zelter to Goethe, in a previous 
 letter. 
 
1824. J TO ZBI,TEE. 227 
 
 I have again been strangely attracted by Handel ; Roch- 
 litz's Entwiclcelung des Messias, (in his first volume, Fii/r 
 Frewnde d&r Tonkwnst, page 227,) has induced me to take 
 up the Handel- Mozart score, from which, it is true, I can 
 only pick out the rhythmical motives ; I hope soon to be- 
 come better acquainted with the harmonic ones as well, 
 through Eberwein's performance. This would have been 
 an interesting topic for our meeting, which, compared with 
 former ones, would have turned out badly, had it not been 
 for the good influence of the principal subject of our con- 
 versation. Here's to our early meeting ! 
 
 G. 
 
 One word more ! Have yon seen the pictures by Schadow 
 and Begas, that are being exhibited in the Pfeilersaal in 
 the Royal Schloss ? If not, go and look at them, and give 
 me your candid opinion about them. Then get Nos. 66 
 and 57 of the Haude und Spenersche Zeitung, and read 
 the critique upon them. It is written by a discerning 
 person, but how he turns and twists himself about, in 
 order to veil his conviction, which we could summarize 
 in a few words ! They are both talented and highly culti- 
 vated artists, who however are losing their best years in 
 the modern German tomfooleiy, sanctimoniousness, and 
 affected fondness for antiquarianism ; they satisfy no- 
 body, and will probably go to the bad, because they will 
 either come to their senses too late, or will never come to 
 them at all. 
 
 Now and for ever, 
 
 Tour faithful friend. 
 
 164. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 11th March, 1824. 
 After a short interval, my good Friend, I again 
 come forward, and this time with desire and design ; listen 
 then to my story. 
 
 I enclose a poem, in explanation of which it may be 
 necessary to state the following. Staatsrath Thaer, of 
 whom yon are sure to know something in general, as well 
 as in particular, attains his seventy-third year on the 14th 
 
228 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1824. 
 
 of May. On tliat day his pupils, from far and wide, are 
 going to meet at his house in Mogelin, where they intend 
 to give him a splendid fSte. Now they want to have some 
 brand-new Drinking-Songs for the occasion, and so have 
 addressed themselves in neat and suitable petitions to 
 "Weimar, as the actual emporium of poetic art in Germany. 
 Their friends too are not disinclined to help them. Thus 
 the enclosed poem came into my head ; for the preliminary 
 understanding of it, I annex the following commentary : — * 
 
 Strophe 1. 
 
 Thaer, a physician, esteemed both as a practitioner and 
 theorist, is looking around him in search of cheerful occu- 
 pation in the field of Nature — ho gets fond of gardening. 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 But he soon finds his powers cramped, and longs for a 
 wider sphere of activity; he turns his attention to agri- 
 culture. 
 
 Strophe 3. 
 
 He pays attention to the English system of husbandry, 
 and the very simple maxim, that with more activity and 
 more intelligent farming, a far greater advantage may be 
 gained than by following the old beaten track. 
 
 Strophe 4. 
 
 And thus he manages to stir up landowners to change 
 their crops, gains pupils and followers, who approve of his 
 teaching and leading, and propose now to give him, in his 
 advanced years, a loud and public acknowledgment of 
 their gratitude. 
 
 I hope that this poem, which is meant to be sung by a 
 great number of landowners, seated at a banquet, may 
 incite you to set it to some bright music ; it is a f&te that 
 will not occur again, and I should like our two names to 
 be mentioned together on the occasion. The man belongs 
 first of all to Prussia, but after that to the world at large 
 
 • See GoetMa Werke, vol. xv, page 30, in Cotta's edition, 1866. 
 
1824.] TO ZBLTBE. 229 
 
 as well ; his fame and reputation are thorongUy genuine, 
 and so one may surely undertake something in which one 
 can rejoice with him and his friends. 
 
 I trust you will be able soon to send me a successful 
 score, which I will then attend to further. In the first 
 instance, I should like to keep it to ourselves. If you have 
 heard but little of the man, you need only ask those imme- 
 diately about you; they will tell you enough to further 
 your co-operation. Perhaps some one of his pupils, travel- 
 ling to and fro, will join your I/iedertafel, at any rate at a 
 later period, in which case you could not better entertain 
 such a guest. I go on daily in the old routine, and am 
 glad I keep myself upright in it. Farewell, and love me. 
 
 I am on my legs again.* 
 
 G. 
 
 165. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 20th March, 1824. 
 
 .... Tour mention of Handel reminds me that 
 I must thank Brochlitz ; he sent me his book too, and said 
 plenty of friendly things about Handel and myself. Herder 
 somewhere calls Handel's Messiah a Christian Epic; in 
 that one word he has hit the right nail on the head, for in 
 fact this work contains in its fragmentary arrangement the 
 whole convolution of his (i.e. Handel's) Christianity, as 
 truly and honourably, as it is rationally poetical. The 
 intention of the whole, viewed as a work, I have always 
 considered accidental in origin, and I cannot rid myself of 
 
 that opinion 
 
 In B/Ochlitz's book, p. 76, Mara is said to have three 
 times petitioned the King (Frederick the Great) for per- 
 mission to marry Mara, and to have obtained it the third 
 time. That, begging his pardon, is not true. The King 
 roundly refused. When Mara ran away on the first occa- 
 sion, and what is more, ran away from her engagement 
 as first Singer to the King, she was still Mademoiselle 
 Schmeling. Herr Mara was engaged at a good salary, as 
 a virtuoso in the band of Prince Henry ; so he was to be 
 
 * Written in Goethe's own hand. 
 
230 Goethe's lettbks [1824. 
 
 punished as an eloper. The King would have liked to keep 
 Mara, but she had not wished to engage herself for life. 
 Now, however, she offered herself to the King, if the King 
 would allow Mara, now advanced to the post of drummer, 
 to go free, and give her permission to marry him. Consent 
 was given, and now for the first time as a married couple, 
 they ran away again. That was in the year 1778, after 
 Mara had sung in January the part of Handel's " Rode- 
 linda." When they had caught her again all right, the 
 King ordered them to let.her go. The King hated Mara, 
 who was much more than a member of Prince Henry's 
 band ; the high and mighty Prince did more than that for 
 his favourite, in spite of its being impossible to get at his 
 heart by a secret staircase, and thousands of good deeds, 
 for Mara was the commonest scamp, and maltreated his 
 master outrageously. He sulked at him for weeks on end, 
 and behaved impiously, disturbing the Sunday services and 
 the sermon, in Rheinsberg. He would go to the kitchen 
 and eat up the dishes ordered for the Prince, and he got 
 dead drunk when he ought to have been playing. All this 
 was forgiven, year after year. The King knew of it, but 
 was unwilling to spoil his brother's game. At last there was 
 a catastrophe. At the Carnival-time, Prince Henry with all 
 his Court was in Berlin, and gave masquerades, which far 
 outshone the King's masked balls and all the other Court 
 entertainments. On one occasion the whole of the King's 
 Court had been invited to a Concert given by Prince Henry, 
 to hear the wonderful Mara upon the violoncello. Every- 
 one appeared, Mara likewise— drunk — and the one who did 
 not play, was — Mara. Prince Henry in despair at such 
 an affront, commanded, begged, entreated. Mara did not 
 play, and this laid the foundation of the King's hatred. I 
 tell you this story, based on authentic chronicles, because, 
 according to Rochlitz's book, the King appears as a tyrant, 
 who practised his revenge upon Mara, and cruelly separated 
 a married couple. At that time they were not yet engaged. 
 Mara's relation to Reichardt, too, who had just then be- 
 come the King's Capellmeister, is not made clear, to 
 Reichardt's prejudice. 
 
 Z, 
 
1824.J TO ZBLTER. 231 
 
 166. — GoETHi TO Zbltik. 
 
 Weimar, 27th March, 1824. 
 .... Thus you have opportunely enlightened me 
 by your analysis of Handel's Messiah. Moreover, your 
 view of the rhapsodical origin of this work is quite in 
 accordance with my own opinion : for it is quite possible 
 for the mind to raise up out of fragmentary elements a 
 funeral pile, and finally, to point its flame, pyramid-wise, 
 to Heaven. 
 
 One evening lately I heard the Messiah; 1 shall some 
 day or other say a few words on the subject myself, but 
 meanwhile advance, following your lead. The impulse 
 given by Rochlitz I am grateful for, though I find him 
 here as elsewhere : his honest intention and even work 
 are patent, and one can only wish that he possessed the 
 power of taking a firmer grasp of the subject, and of more 
 definitely carrying through what he has recognized 
 
 The chronicle-like notices of the adventures of Schmeling- 
 Mara certainly have the true character of an empirical 
 world; so it is that everything historica,l is surrounded 
 with a strange uncertain being, and it really gets comical, 
 when we reflect how we are determined to be convinced 
 with certainty about what is long past. We possess here 
 a pretty, old, silver bowl, which — as is proved by the 
 engraving and inscription — dates from the time of the 
 Emperor Frederick the First. It is unquestionably a 
 christening gift, and yet the savants cannot agree as to 
 who was really the baptized, and who was the witness of 
 baptism. We already have five difEerent ojJinions on the sub- 
 ject, and these may be reckoned as models of acuteness 
 and nonsense ; only one of them is straightforward and 
 
 plausible 
 
 Yours truly, 
 G. 
 
 167. — Zelteb to Gohthb. 
 
 Sunday, 4th April, 1824. 
 .... I RET0KN you with many thanks the Pachelbel 
 Chorale-Book This Pachelbel is a representative 
 
232 Goethe's letters [1824. 
 
 man of his kind, and has been eulogized by the best of his 
 colleagues, for he lived in the midst of the best Chorale 
 writers, from Luther up to Sebastian Bach, in genuine 
 
 sssion 01 me waaiuoi 
 Konrad Rumpf 
 
 lai unurcxi-iuuue 
 Bom 1580. 
 
 s 
 
 Ludwig Senfel 
 
 
 1530. 
 
 Died 1555. 
 
 Walter 
 
 
 1638. 
 
 
 Heinrich Schiitz 
 
 
 1586. 
 
 Died 1672. 
 
 Schein 
 
 
 1686. 
 
 
 Scheldt 
 
 
 1587. 
 
 
 Rosenmiiller 
 
 
 
 Died 1686. 
 
 Caspar Kerl 
 
 
 1625. 
 
 „ 1690, 
 
 Froberger 
 
 
 1635. 
 
 „ 1700, 
 
 Caspar Prinz 
 
 
 1641. 
 
 „ 1717. 
 
 Theile 
 
 
 1646. 
 
 „ 1724. 
 
 Dan. Vetter 
 
 
 
 „ 1730. 
 
 Aless. Scarlatti 
 
 
 1650. 
 
 „ 1730, 
 
 Pachelbel 
 
 
 1668. 
 
 „ 1706, 
 
 Telemann 
 
 
 1681. 
 
 „ 1767, 
 
 Seb. Bach 
 
 
 1685. 
 
 „ 1750, 
 
 This may be a proximate, imperfect list of the names which 
 cannot be eliminated from the history of Art, and no doubt 
 there are several more. The above-named Heinrich Schiitz, 
 Schein, and Scheldt are also styled the Trinity of the 
 
 Three Great S's In former times, when an Organist 
 
 or Capellmeister was examined for official duty in Church, 
 a theme was given to him, (Dux,) for which he himself was 
 obliged to find, and extempore too, the Gomes (i.e. the answer 
 to the subject of the Fugue) ; a similar task he had to work 
 out on paper in a room by himself ; that done, the exercise 
 was judged by the Committee of Examiners, and such a 
 fugal work then received the name of ricercata. 
 
 So farewell, and pray for me, and help me to sing : 
 
 Easter eggs, with joy they cry, 
 The Quasimodogeniti.* 
 Amen! 
 
 Amen! 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 • Quasimodogeniti is Low Sunday, the firat Sunday after Easter. 
 
1824.] to zeltbb. 233 
 
 168. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 28th April, 1824. 
 .... I HOPE the Tod Jesu, (Graun's,) has this year 
 too prepared a joyful Easter for you ; that most lamentable 
 of all events has been turned to such profit by the priests, 
 and the painters too have fattened on it ; why should the 
 musician alone go empty away ? 
 
 My Messiah brings me profit too, not at full length, but 
 still " in nuee ; " * the idea at all events is quickening, and 
 this is a good deal for one like me. I am not disinclined 
 to the thought that it is a collection, a compilation from a 
 large stock of items, for it is in reality quite one and the 
 same, whether the unity forms itself at the beginning or at 
 the end ; it is always the mind that produces it, and more- 
 over the unity was implied in the Christian-Old-New 
 Testament sense. In the end this very thing may hold 
 good for Homer, only one must not say so to Wolf, who, 
 when people admit that he is in the right, assures them 
 
 they do not understand it 
 
 G. 
 
 169. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, 26th June, 1824. 
 
 I AM very glad you have succeeded with Troilms and 
 Gressida, or rather, that it has succeeded with you. I 
 never made a secret of my deadly hostility to all parodies 
 and travesties ; but my only reason for it is that that 
 horrid brood pulls down the beautiful, noble, and grand, in 
 order to destroy it ; nay, I do not like even the semblance 
 of such things to be driven away by this. 
 
 The ancients and Shakespeare, when they seem to be 
 robbing us, give us instead something to be esteemed, some- 
 thing worthy and enjoyable. The play in question capti- 
 vated you in this way, it charmed and satisfied you, and 
 certainly in quite the right sense. 
 
 Among my papers is a short essay on the Cyclops of 
 Euripides, which certainly requires to be worked out 
 
 * This alludes to a performance of parts of Handel's Messiah in 
 Goethe's house, on the 14th of April. 
 
234 Goethe's lettees [1824 
 
 further and to be more accurately defined ; perhaps you 
 may encourage me to make the effort. Not long ago I 
 heard a very charming performance of the Thaer Cantata, 
 and was again delighted with the appositeness of the music, 
 which rises with the feeling expressed in each strophe. 
 
 Bauch * is now going to leave ; I would gladly have 
 kept him a few days longer, especially as society — in true 
 Berlin fashion — spoilt a great deal of my time. However, 
 we have become of one mind about the picture and the 
 likeness ; do you look kindly upon what has been begun, 
 and give him a helping hand. 
 
 The last number of Kunst und Alterthum, which is now 
 in the hands of a bookbinder, will soon be sent to you. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 G. 
 
 170. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 25th August, 1824. 
 
 A MIGHTY eagle, of the times of Myron or Lysippns, 
 holding two serpents in his claws, is just lighting upon a 
 rock ; his wings are still moving, his spirit restless, for 
 the struggling prey threaten him with danger. They are 
 coiling themselves round his feet ; their forked tongues are 
 suggestive of deadly fangs. 
 
 In contrast with this, a screech-owl is perching upon a 
 stone wall, its wings are closely folded, it is holding fast 
 with feet and claws ; it has seized some mice, which, half 
 dead, wind their little tails round its feet, hardly able, by 
 a faint squeak, to give a sign that they are still just alive. 
 
 Think of these two works of Art in juxtaposition ! Here 
 is neither Parody nor Travesty, but something that by 
 nature is high and something that by nature is low, both 
 worked out in an equally sublime style by an equally great 
 master ; it is a parallelism in contrast, which in each in- 
 stance ought to give pleasure, and when combined, must 
 create astonishment ; the young sculptor might find here a 
 task full of meaning. 
 
 (This would be the proper place for what I ought to say 
 about the Cyclops of Euripides.) 
 
 * Kauch, the sculptor of the well-known statuette of Goethe. 
 
1824.] TO ZELTER. 235 
 
 Equally remarkable is the comparison of the TMad with 
 Troilus and Oressida. Here too is neither parody nor 
 travesty, but as above we had two natural subjects con- 
 trasted with one another, so here we have a twofold spirit 
 of the different ages. The Greek poem in the lofty style, 
 representing itself, introducing only what is necessary, and 
 even in its descriptions and its similes discarding aU orna- 
 mentation, being baaed upon the grand mythical traditions 
 of the remote past ; on the other hand, the English master- 
 piece may be regarded as a happy transformation, a trans- 
 position of that great work into the romantico-dramatic 
 style. 
 
 At the same time, we must not forget that this play, 
 with many others, is indisputably derived from traditionary 
 narratives, which had been already reduced to prose, and 
 were only half poetical. 
 
 Tet even so it is perfectly original, as though the antique 
 had never existed ; and, again, it required as much thorough 
 earnestness, and as decided talent, as that of the grand old 
 master, to make a feint of amusing us with similar per- 
 sonalities and characters, of slight significance, whilst all 
 the time more modern phases of humanity were being made 
 transparent to a later race of men. 
 
 G. 
 
 171. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 30th October, 1824. 
 
 .... I AM now finishing my pamphlet on Natural 
 Science, which this year was unfortunately delayed, and 
 I am revising my correspondence with S chiller from 1794 
 to 1805. It will be a great gift to the Germans, nay, 
 I dare say, to mankind. Two suph friends, who, while 
 laying bare their minds to one another, were constantly 
 inciting each other to further progress ! While revising 
 this, a strange feeling comes over me, for I learn what I 
 once was. 
 
 But what is really the most instructive part of all is that 
 which shows the condition in which two men, who urge on 
 their aims, as it were, par force, fritter away their time by 
 excess of mental activity, by incitement and dissipation 
 
236 Goethe's letters/ [1824 
 
 froip without, so that in truth there jcomes forth nothing 
 fully worthy of their powers, natural ?ifts, and intentions. 
 It will be highly edifying, for every man worth his salt 
 will be able to find comfort in this woi 'k- 
 
 Besides, it will help a great deal th at is coming to life 
 again, animated by the stirring impulse s of that epoch. . ■ , , 
 
 172. — Zeltee to Gob the. 
 
 Berlin, 27th November, 1824. 
 .... Once more we have *yith us a pair of 
 Virtuosi-killers : Madame Griinbaum, I (formerly Wenzel- 
 Miiller,) and Herr Moscheles, the piinist. The former 
 sings our Milder and Seidler clean pfE the earth, and 
 Moscheles really plays in such a fashion,Hhat he makes one 
 take a draught of Lethe, and forget : n it all who went 
 before him. Why, the fellow has han is which he turns 
 inside out like a shirt, and even bis nMs can play. His 
 compositions too I like next best to Huhimers, amongst 
 the more modem writers. I had hearfl of Eifit^ome time 
 ago, and in the year 1819, went, on hisjaccount, by way of 
 Prague, to Vienna ; there I missed h^m, though he was 
 expected at both places.* , , . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 173. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd December, 1824. 
 , , . . Die MitschulMgen f produces quite the right 
 efEect. A so-called educated public wants to see itself on 
 
 * Keferring to 2%e lAfe of Moscheles, we read iu his diary : " On the 
 23rd November, I heard a Psalm by Naumann at the Singakademie, 
 
 afterwards went to the Mendelssohns' Dee. 3rd. Music at 
 
 Zelter's. Fanny Mendelssohn played the D minor Concerto by S. Bachj 
 which I saw in the original manuscript My musical conver- 
 sations with Zelter were extremely interesting to me. He is the man 
 who corresponds so much with Goethe on Teltower turnips and other 
 better things." 
 
 t One of Goethe's earliest plays, written when he was under the com- 
 bined influence of Moliere and Lessing. He afterwards acted in it 
 himself, when the play was produced at Weimar. Bertuch, MusBus, 
 and Corona Schroter also took part in the performance. The passage 
 referred to by Goethe is to be found iu Am meinem Leben, Part II. 
 
1824.J TO ZELTEB. 237 
 
 the stage, and demands about as much from the drama as 
 from society ; convenances arise between actor and spec- 
 tator ; the people, however, are content that the clowns np 
 there should amuse them with jokes which they have no 
 desire to share in. Moreover, if you could read what I 
 have said about the piece — I don't know where — you would 
 find it accord perfectly with the sentiments of the first 
 row of boxes. I will look up the passage and let you know 
 of it. 
 
 Tour musical gossip has been simply of incredible ser- 
 vice to me ; as far as it is possible to comprehend music 
 ideally, you have enabled me to do so, and I now, at all 
 events, understand why, of all Rossini's works, II Ba/rbiere 
 di SevigUa is the one most generally praised. One evening 
 recently I heard Tamcredi ; it was a very meritorious per- 
 formance, and I shoiild have been well satisfied, if only no 
 helmets, armour, weapons, and trophies had appeared upon 
 the stage. However, I got out of the difficulty immediately, 
 and transfornied the performance into a fcwola boscareggia, 
 something like the Pastor Fido. Also I adorned the Theatre 
 so as to have graceful Poussin landscapes ; I peopled the 
 scene with actors of my own, so that there was no want 
 of ideal shepherds and shepherdesses, and even fauns, as 
 in Da/phrds und Ohloe ; and then there was nothing to find 
 fault with, because the hollow pretension of a heroic opera 
 fell away. .... 
 
 174. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 10th December, 1824. 
 
 .... Felix is still the head-lad. His admirable 
 industry is the fruit of a healthy root, and his sister, Fanny, 
 has completed her thirty-second Fugue. The young people 
 are wide awake, and when they have picked up anything 
 for their own beak, you see it in their work ; they are as 
 pleased as if they had taken Mexico, and they ^re fond of 
 me, just as they find me, and come and go like bees about 
 
 a flower 
 
 Z. 
 
238 GOBTHl's LETTERS [1824. 
 
 176. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 22nd December, 1824. 
 
 .... To-DAT my Felix is to let us hear his latest 
 Double Concerto.* The lad stands upon a root, which gives 
 promise of a healthy tree. His individuality becomes more 
 and more evident, and amalgamates so well with the spirit 
 of the,age, that it seems to look out of it like a bird from 
 
 the egg 
 
 Z. 
 
 176. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 Berlin, 24th December, 1824. (Christmas Eve.) 
 Tbsteedat, Maria von Weber's latest Opera, lEu- 
 rycmthe, was given in our grand Theatre with most decided 
 applause. In Vienna, Dresden, and elsewhere, the work 
 failed to impress ; this may be accounted for by a hundred 
 reasons. The poem will not explain itself. Count Briihl 
 has put the work imposingly on the stage, as befits the 
 friend and Intendcmt, and in a style suitable to the historical 
 romantic Opera. 
 
 Everybody was called for after the Opera. The com- 
 poser first, who was obliged to show himself after the first 
 Act, and deserves every encouragement for his intense 
 industry, which is made doubly burdensome by his feeble 
 health. 
 
 Afterwards there was plenty of feasting and revelry; 
 such things bring about perfect satisfaction, nay, in the end, 
 reconciliation. Several of his friends carried the composer 
 away with them, Choruses of Singers and Horns followed, 
 and the jubilee lasted into the small hours. Ton need not 
 wonder that an old piece of goods like myself must always 
 be at hand on these occasions, for I am not such a fool as 
 to go into a corner with detractors, or worry myself at the 
 
 prosperity of anyone in this world 
 
 Z. 
 
 * For two Pianos and Orchestra ; the work is still in manuscript. 
 
1825.] TO ziLTiR. 239 
 
 1825. 
 
 177. — Goethe to Ziltek. 
 
 Weimar, 27tli March, 1825. 
 .... Let me tell you, in good earnest, dearest 
 Friend, that I am well in body, but so so in spirit ; only I 
 keep to myself, as everyone, without knowing it, is over- 
 excited, for ever harping on the misfortune,* and whereas 
 people, by their own exertions, might assist in the restora- 
 tion, which would be praiseworthy on their part, they now 
 besiege one, in an intolerable fashion, with their advice, 
 their proposals, and their plans. 
 
 I think, however, that the one most to be pitied is the 
 Grand Duke, who, in his fine, princely way, listens to every- 
 one, and has to stand so much useless talk, which he can 
 neither reject nor rectify 
 
 Hitherto I have looked to Berlin with bright and 
 friendly feelings, now I shall have to do so with the utmost 
 gratitude ; you will have heard of and rejoiced in the ines- 
 timable favour conferred on me by the Diet.f 
 
 I could tell you much ; from time to time you will hear 
 many a pleasant piece of news. This year, as regards my- 
 self, is as good as past, meanwhile I cling to each moment. 
 
 May the new building, and all else besides, succeed with 
 you! ^ 
 
 * The burning of the Weimar Theatre on the 22nd of March. " The 
 fire is the grave of my memories," said Goethe. This letter is a com- 
 mentary on his feelings at the time. 
 
 f Goethe had formally petitioned the German Diet to make any 
 piracy of his works a punishable offence. 
 
240 goethb's lbttees [1826. 
 
 Enclosure. 
 [^Explcmatcm/,'] 
 
 Weimar, End of March, 1825. 
 When clearing away the debris of the Theatre, they dis- 
 covered among the ruins of the library the following pas- 
 sages from a manuscript of Tasso, which I had myself re- 
 vised ; the pages were burnt at the edges. 
 
 FiKST Fragment. 
 
 When the unthought-of comes across our path, 
 When something monstrous interrupts our gaze. 
 Silent a while and still our spirit stands, 
 Nor is there aught we may compare with this. 
 
 Second Fragment. 
 
 And now if all, if everything were lost ? 
 
 If, on a sudden, thou shouldst find the friend 
 
 A beggar, whom thou thoughtest rich erewhile ? 
 
 Third Fragment. 
 
 The helm is broken in pieces, and the ship 
 
 Cracks upon every side ; beneath my feet 
 
 The ground bursts open, gaping ! In both arms 
 
 I clasp thee ! So at length the sailor clings 
 
 Fast to the rock, on which he should have foundered, 
 
 178. — ZbLTBE to GrOETHB. 
 
 1st April, 1825. 
 
 .... Professor Cousin,* of whom you will have 
 heard, has been Uberated discretionally; he is received 
 everywhere as a man of mark. He was not satisfied with 
 your praise of Don Alonzo.f I told him frankly that he 
 did not understand you. He speaks of you with the 
 greatest veneration, but he is a Frenchman, and must be- 
 come a very old man, before he finds, behind your peculiar 
 
 * Victor Cousin, the head of the Eclectic School, in France, author 
 of Histmre de la Philosophie av, XVIII'. Siicle, &c. &c. He was arrested 
 in Dresden, on a charge of Carbonarism, and sent to Berlin, where he 
 was detained for six months. 
 
 f Bon Alornso, cm L'Espagne, an historical novel by N. A. de Sal- 
 vandy. 
 
1826.] TO ZELTBE. 241 
 
 forms, tlie spirit whicli dwells in them, as in a comfort- 
 able citizen's house. One always get to = with the 
 liberality of the Liberals ; they have no root, so height is 
 
 wanting too 
 
 Z. 
 
 179. — Goethe to Zbltbr. 
 
 Weknai-, Uth April, 1825. 
 We too, my good Priend, have been suffering from 
 the worry of deliberation, but happily only for a short time. 
 Two architects stood opposed to one another; the one 
 •wanted to erect a gwaOT-People's Theatre, (Volhstheater,) 
 the other a regular Court Theatre, (Softheater,) so here 
 also the two parties of the day appeared in opposition, and 
 actually balanced one another. It was only the Grand 
 Duke's determination that put an end to the indecision ; 
 he went over to the majority, so that about sixteen days 
 after the fire, we made up our minds what was to be done, 
 and as we have a Court ready made, we are to have a Court 
 Theatre too. 
 
 To be sure, we were helped in the matter, as the two 
 plans aforesaid have been lyipg ready for years, and I will 
 not deny that the one which carried the day originated 
 with me, and with the chief architect, Coudray;* strangely 
 enough, what induced us to draw it up, was the burning 
 of your Theatre, since which time we have constantly 
 thought of it, and worked at it for practice; thus one 
 thing exercises its influence through and upon the other. 
 
 My new part of Kimst und Alterthu/m will soon be pub- 
 lished; my letters to Schiller do not look amiss. The 
 remark you made, that he is not of the same mind as my- 
 self on certain subjects, as for instance, on the question of 
 Furies within and without,t you will find repeated in a 
 
 * Goethe was a great friend and admirer of this architect, who, with 
 Von Miiller and Schwabe, undertook to carry out his design for a 
 " Twin-Monument" to himself and Schiller, over their common grave 
 in the neighbourhood of the Fiirstengruft. 
 
 ■f- See Schiller and Goethe Correspondence, vol. ii. m. 396, 397, Letter 
 836. Zelter had been reading Schiller's remarks on Iphigenie, — " Orestes 
 himself is the most doubtful part in the whole ; without Furies there 
 can be no Orestes," &c. 
 
 B 
 
242 Goethe's letters [1825, 
 
 remarkable manner, when tte entire correspondence makes 
 its appearance. Even during the course of this year, many 
 such differences are to be found, and I see with pleasure 
 that rery many vote for me, as I never contradicted him, 
 but let him have his way in aU things; hence also in 
 matters that were peculiarly my own. 
 
 I particularly recommend to your notice the Essay on 
 Servian poetry,* as well as the poems themselves ; should 
 the subject not attract you at once, try to work your way 
 into it. I have treated it carefully ; my general remarks 
 on National Songs are brief, but well considered. When, 
 by degrees, I come to speak of the Songs of other nations, 
 specifically, in the same way, I hope people will get a 
 proper insight into something, round which hitherto they 
 have only hovered vaguely with gloomy prejudice. 
 
 I enclose for you the last number of my Morphologie. 
 Those who think analogously understand each other, even 
 though the subject discussed or criticised is foreign to one 
 or the other party. Have I not introduced into my pam- 
 phlets many things which can never be grasped, even by 
 ■ professional men, just because they think differently ? 
 I shall continue to do so as long as I am spared, quarrel- 
 ling with no one, but not concealing my opinions and 
 convictions, to please anyone. 
 
 The newspapers will by this time have informed you 
 and my Berlin friends of the favour of the Diet ; we will 
 wait and see the upshot of the matter. 
 
 The French occupy a strange position with regard to 
 German literature ; their case is precisely that of the cun- 
 ning fox, who could not manage to get anything out of the 
 long-necked vessel; with the best intentions, they do not 
 know what to make of our things, they treat all our art- 
 products as raw material, which they must first manipulate 
 for themselves. How pitiably they have disfigured and 
 jumbled up my notes to Bamieau! Not a single thing has 
 been left in its proper place. 
 
 * This Essay was published in Kimst und Alterthvm. The Servian 
 poems, which were written by a young lady at Halle, interested Goethe 
 greatly. " These are excellent," he said. " There are some among 
 them, worthy of a comparison with SoloTnon's Song, and that is saying 
 something." 
 
1825.] TO ZBLTBE. 243 
 
 HI 
 
 Do write to me oftener ! When you walk through 
 Berlin, imagine that yon are travelling, and tell me your 
 thoughts about this, that, and the other ; I too will let you 
 hear how things are with me. In our later years let us 
 do by letter, what in earlier years we did by personal inter- 
 course ; a Httle talking to and fro, even gossip if you will, 
 can do no harm. 
 
 G. 
 
 180. — ZblTBB to GrOBTHE. 
 
 Berlin, 19th April, 1825. 
 .... I COULD have foreseen long ago, that you are 
 not the man to build a Theatre for the People in Weimar. 
 Him that makes himself green, the goats will eat.* Other 
 high folk, who want to cork their wine, while it's ferment- 
 ing, would do well to consider this. " Friends, we have 
 lived tb see it," — nay, we are living to see it.f .... 
 
 Z. 
 
 181. — Goethe to Zblter, 
 
 Weimar, 21st May, 1825. 
 I SEND you herewith a small volume which you are 
 called upon to criticise before anyone else. The author, 
 as it seems to me, aspires to what yon have been doing all 
 your life long, and are still doing ; he is endeavouring to 
 make that universal which, if it could become common, 
 would instantly be annulled, and in fact, he appears to me 
 like a physician, who is attempting to describe accurately an 
 
 * The German proverb, of which this is a literal translation, corre- 
 sponds to the French saying. Qui sefait brebis, le lovp le Timnge. 
 
 f Goethe, commenting on this letter, once obseryed, " Zelter is a 
 capital fellow, but sometimes he does not quite understand me, and puts 
 a false coustruetion on my words. I have devoted my whole life to the 
 People and their improvement, and why should I not also found a 
 Theatre ? But here in Weimar, in this small capital, which, as people 
 jokingly say, has ten. thousand poets and afew inhabitants, how can we 
 talk about the People, much leap a Theatre for the People ? Weimar 
 will doubtless become, at some future time, a great city ; but we must 
 wait some centuries before the people of Weimar will form a mass suffi- 
 cient to be able to found and support a Theatre." 
 
244 GOBTHl's LETTERS [1825. 
 
 # 
 
 incurable disease, and to distinguish its difPerent effects. 
 All this, however, I leave you to deal with. 
 
 Herr Mendelssohn stayed with us too short a time on 
 his return journey ; Felix produced his last quartett,* which 
 astonished everyone. This personal dedication, audible 
 and intelligible as it is, has greatly pleased me. I could 
 only get a few hurried words with his father, for I was 
 prevented and distracted by the music, and by a large con- 
 course of people. I should so have liked to hear some 
 Paris news from him. Fehx told the ladies something 
 about the state of musical affairs there, which is very 
 characteristic of the day. My kind greetings to all the 
 family, and keep me in the remembrance of that circle also. 
 
 I must further tell you that time and circumstance seem 
 to favour the new edition of my works ; I am just now 
 working industriously at the annals of my life, a great mass 
 of the materials for which, partly in preparation, partly 
 finished, is lying before me. Now I find that our intimacy, 
 from the year 1800, is interwoven with everything, and 
 therefore I should like it to appear, as a perpetual testimony, 
 and in pure gradation upwards, the truth of which can 
 only be signified by giving the fullest details. I am at this 
 moment studying your letters, which are lying before me 
 neatly arranged, and now I am going to ask you to let me 
 have mine for a short time, in batches of five years. I am 
 just now working at the period, beginning with the opening 
 of the century, and ending with Schiller's death; if you 
 have the letters in order, pray send me them as soon as you 
 can ; I will return them soon, and as I proceed, I shall beg 
 for the others. I should like to spin the whole length of 
 this noble thread in and out, tenderly and carefully ; it is 
 worth the trouble, and really it is no trouble at all, but the 
 greatest satisfaction, and I am already looking forward to 
 seeing the great gap, from the beginning of the century up 
 to the present day, continuously filled up. 
 
 Another thing just happens to strike me ! There is in 
 
 * This was the B minor quartett, the dedication of which Goethe soon 
 after acknowledged, in what Zelter calls, " a beautiful love-letter." — " I 
 regard it," said Goethe to the young Mendelssohn, " as the graceful em- 
 bodiment of that beautiful, rich, energetic soul which so astonished me 
 when you first made me acquainted with it." 
 
1825.] TO ZELTER. 245 
 
 such matters a certain feeling which I cannot blame, that 
 one likes to keep documents of this kind entirely to one- 
 self. So the letters shall not be copied, without your ex- 
 press permission ; what I extract, I shall mark with pencil 
 in the margin. 
 
 Farewell ! I am looking forward to living the past over 
 again ; this can only make the present time all the more 
 precious. 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 G. 
 
 182. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 28th May, 1825. 
 
 .... Once, several years ago, yon wrote to me, 
 
 that it is only possible to understand the works of Nature 
 
 and of Art by tracing them to their origin ; once they are ripe 
 
 aHid complete, let him look to it, who would comprehend 
 
 them 
 
 Felix has returned from Paris, and has made rare good 
 progress in these few months. There he composed for 
 Oherubini a. Kyrie* that will stand examination, all the 
 more as that capital fellow, following his clever instiucts, has 
 taken up the piece almost ironically, in a spirit which, if 
 not the right one, is at any rate very much what Oherubini 
 has always been on the look out for, and if I am not much 
 
 mistaken, has never found Abraham Mendelssohn 
 
 has brought his younger sister back with him f rom^ Paris ; for 
 some twenty years she lived there as governess to General 
 Sebastiani's daughter, who has just been married, and 
 having realized a considerable pension, she now intends to 
 reside in Berlin, her native place. One cannot but praise 
 
 * After hearing the B minor quartett, Oherubini remarked, " Ce 
 gar^on est riche ; il fera bien ; il fait mgme d€j^ bien, mais il depense 
 trop de son argent, il met trop d'etoffe dans son habit. Je lui parlerai, 
 alors il fera bien." Felix compared Oherubini to an extinct volcano, 
 still throwing out occasional flashes and sparks, but quite covered with 
 ashes and stones. A propos of the Kyrie, Felix wi-ote to his parents, 
 " I have been busy these last days making a Kyrie h 5 voci auAgrandis- 
 simo orchestra: in bulk it surpasses anything I have yet written. There 
 is also a tolerable amount of pizzicato in it, and as for the trombones, 
 they will need good windpipes." 
 
' 246 Goethe's letters [1825. 
 
 the free and amiable disposition which this girl has kept 
 from childhood — all through the Inferno of Paris — and it 
 is enough to reconcile one again to the Prophets, that the 
 old and failing father should see the promise of Abraham 
 fulfilled in all his children. Farewell, my dearest ! The 
 prospect of your new edition rejoices heart and soul. • 
 
 Tour 
 Z. 
 
 183. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 6th June, 1825. 
 
 .... If you come across a translation of The Last 
 Days of Lord Byron, by William Parry, be sure you pOTince 
 upon it ; so high and clear a standpoint is not easily 
 attained. All that has been said about him hitherto falls 
 away and vanishes like a mist of the valley. 
 
 The Servian VolJcslieder too have just been published at 
 Halle, in a pretty octavo volume. The Introduction, a 
 short sketch of the history of the fallen Servian kingdom, 
 is an extremely able and satisfactory, though unsatisfying 
 account, showing a considerable wealth of knowledge. To 
 have all the National Songs before one in a mass — just as 
 I wished to — is extremely delightful and instructive ; one 
 knows at once what they are and what they are meant to be. 
 
 I cannot conclude without again referring to that over- 
 charged music ; * but everything, dear Friend, nowadays 
 is ultra', everything perpetually transcendent in thought 
 •as in action. No one knows himself any longer, no one 
 understands the element in which he moves and works, no 
 one the subject which he is treating. Pure simplicity is 
 out of the question ; of simpletons we have enough. 
 
 Toung people are excited much too early, and then 
 carried away in the whirl of the time. Wealth and rapidity 
 are what the world admires, and what everyone strives to 
 attain. Railways, quick mails, steamships, and eveiy pos- 
 sible kind of facility in the way of communication are what 
 the educated world has in view, that it may over-educate 
 
 * Alluding to Zelter's criticism of Spontini's Alcidor, which had 
 recently been performed in Berlin. See Note to Letter 184. 
 
1826,] TO ZELTEB. 247 
 
 itself, and thereby continue in a state of mediocrity. And 
 it is, moreover, the result of universality, that a mediocre 
 culture should become common ; this is the aim of Bible 
 Societies, of the Lancasterian method of instruction, and I 
 know not what besides. 
 
 Properly speaking, this is the century for men with 
 heads on their shoulders, for practical men of quick per- 
 ceptions, who, because they possess a certain adroitness, 
 feel their superiority to the multitude, even though they 
 themselves may not be gifted in the highest degree. Let 
 ns, as far as possible, keep that mind with which we came 
 hither ; we, and perhaps a few others, shall be the last of 
 an epoch which will not so soon return again. 
 
 G. 
 
 184. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 19th June, 1825. 
 .... Count Beuhl is in despair about the new 
 Opera.* The uninterrupted rehearsals of the numerous 
 scenic effects, for two or three months past, have so mono- 
 polized the Theatre, that nothing else of any consequence 
 could be undertaken. This wonder-work is launched at 
 last, and the house so crammed, that the audience chokes 
 and faints from the heat ; directly after the first perform- 
 ance, Spontini makes the treasurer pay out to him the 
 regulation 1,060 Beichsthaler, which he gets for every new 
 work, and there they are, bankrupt again. People now 
 say, Spontini pockets the money, while the others have to 
 sweat for it. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 * This waa Alcidor, eine Zcmheroper, (magic Opera,) jestingly called 
 AllzudoU, eine Zauderoper, (Quite too mad, a slow Opera,)' on account of 
 its length. Zelter thus alludes to it in a former letter, — " The libretto 
 was written by Theaulon in French, and set to music accordingly ; so 
 
 at last we possess a Berlin original — ^that is, a new coat turned 
 
 Spontini seems to me like his own Gold-King, who smashes the heads 
 of his people, by flinging gold at them." The Opera never made its 
 way beyond Berlin. See also Letter 183. 
 
248 Goethe's letters [1825. 
 
 185. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th June, 1825. 
 
 OuB Herr Oenerahnusikdvreetor, Bitter Spontmi, 
 asks me for a recommendation to the great Groethe ; this, 
 between brothers in Art, such as you and he, should hardly 
 be necessary. 
 
 Yet, as I cannot help wishing all my friends to be 
 acquainted with each other, and I have an opportunity of 
 sending you one more hearty greeting, don't let ,it bore 
 you, to see face to face the composer of the latest and 
 greatest Opera. He is going to Paris, returning thence 
 about the time of our next Carnival. 
 
 Tours eternally, 
 
 Z. 
 Here comes my cofiee. Good morning ! 
 
 186. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 1st July, 1825. 
 
 .... I END by thanking you for your beautiful 
 love-letter to my Felix. Any good that comes to him, I 
 enjoy tenfold. He is close upon finishing his fifth Opera,* 
 and I rejoice to see that it sparkles with real life, and does 
 not rest upon mannerisms. He seizes the age by the ears, 
 and carries it along with him, so let it pass ! . . . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 187. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd July, 1825. 
 .... Heee Spontini passed through in haste. It 
 so happened that I was not at home, and yet I managed to 
 get a quarter of an hour's conversation with him. How 
 well we get on together, you may guess from the fact that 
 we embraced before parting, which was the best acknow- 
 ledgment of your introduction 
 
 Yours, 
 G. 
 
 • Die Hochsdt des Chmacho. 
 
1825.] TO ZELTEE. 249 
 
 188. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 6th July, 1825. 
 The enclosed extract should have been sent in my 
 last paoketv , . . 
 
 a 
 
 Enclosure. 
 
 Major Parry on Lord Byron. 
 
 " It will doubtless be obvious to every plain man like 
 myself, that Lord Byron's greatest misfortune was his dis- 
 tinguished birth, and the neglect of moral education that 
 followed upon it. He never overcame the mischievous 
 prejudices and still more mischievous habits to which they 
 led him. He was a nobleman, an only son, and a spoilt, 
 neglected child. He was the victim of all these circum- 
 stances, and could set down to each of them a considerable 
 part of his misfortunes He was exposed ia early days, and 
 unfortunately for a long time, to almost everything which is 
 calculated to foster vice in the human heart. His rank lifted 
 him above all restraint ; he had money, and no father to con- 
 trol him. Then came fame, not gained laboriously by little 
 and little, but at once, and in overwhelming measure ; an 
 inordinate recompense for that which he had thrown ofE at 
 ease, in a few bright, cheerful, and radiantly happy moments. 
 He was so happy in his language, and so quick in thought, 
 that writing was no labour to him, but a pleasure. He 
 was not merely a poet, but for several years, like other 
 young noblemen, what people call a man of fashion ; the 
 sentiments he then imbibed, and the habits he then adopted 
 were never afterwards laid aside. He paid homage to them 
 even in his conversation and behaviour, long after he had 
 learnt to despise them in his heart. Like most men of 
 extraordinary talents, he was naturally disposed to reflec- 
 tion, and preferred solitude to society ; at all events, in all 
 the conversations I had with him, he was earnest and 
 thoughtful, although wonderfully quick, sharp, and de- 
 cisive. With others, as I have already said, he was Kght, 
 volatile, and sportive. He was always the man of the 
 world. In such moments, the sentiments and habits of his 
 
250 gobthb's letters [1825. 
 
 earlier days acquired all their former power over Ms mind. 
 His imposing talents, his noble natural gifts, and fine rare 
 culture, were then all sacrificed upon the altar of fashion- 
 able trifling. He had felt how awfully boring all serious 
 worldlings are, and as his associates were incapable of 
 understanding his higher thoughts, he condescended to 
 exchange thoughtless gossip with them. To use an old 
 proverb, 'he howled with the wolves,' — and people have 
 pictured him vain, presumptuous, boastful, unrestrained, 
 thoughtless, whimsical and heartless, because these are too 
 much the attributes of the class to which he belonged, and 
 of the men with whom he consorted, and who discussed his 
 character. His noble enthusiasm, devoted to the cause of 
 freedom, his courage, which won for him the esteem evfen of 
 the rough Suliotes, his generosity, which never allowed him, 
 when he had the power, to leave a want or a sorrow un- 
 relieved, his philanthropy,' which led him to sacrifice 
 time, money, and ease, to lighten the miseries of unhappy 
 prisoners, have been invariably forgotten, and he has been 
 exposed to the world's blame by heartless and insincere 
 friends, who were utterly incapable of appreciating the 
 high nobility of his character." 
 
 189. — Zbltee to GOITHB. 
 
 6th November, ] 825. 
 .... Mt Felix gets on and works hard. He has just 
 finished an Octett for eight obligaio instruments ; it has 
 hands and feet. Besides that, a few weeks since, he gave 
 his worthy tutor, Heyse, a nice birthday present, — ^namely, 
 a metrical translation of And/da, a comedy by Terence ; it 
 is entirely his own doing, and they say it contains really 
 good verses. I have not seen it yet. He plays the piano 
 like the deuce, and he is not behindhand with stringed 
 instruments ; besides this, he is healthy and strong, and is 
 a rare good hand at swimming up stream. In the musical 
 paper they have given rather a cold shower-bath to his 
 Quartetts and Symphonies ; that cannot hnrt him, for 
 these reviewers are but young fellows, looking for the hat 
 which they hold in their hands. One might despair, if 
 
1826.] TO ZELTER. 251 
 
 one did not remember how Glnck's and Mozart's composi- 
 tions were criticised, forty years ago. These gentlemen 
 drive slapdash over things that would never have occurred 
 to them, and affect to judge of the whole house by a single 
 brick. And I must give him credit for this, that he in- 
 variably works from the whole to the whole, finishing 
 everything that he has begun, let it turn out as it will ; 
 this accounts for his showing no special affection for what 
 is completed. To be sure, there is no lack of hetero- 
 geneous rubble, but that gets carried away by the stream, 
 
 and conventional faults and weaknesses are rarities 
 
 Z. 
 
 190. — Goethe to Zeltbk. 
 
 Weimar, 26th November, 1825. 
 Tour friend Gtriepen- * may be a very good Jcerl 
 (felldw), but I cannot agree with him; he has studied the 
 subjects which he discusses, but on the one hand, I think 
 differently about them, and on the other, I think of them 
 in a different connection. 
 
 I opened the volume, and found on page 336, paragraph 
 10, these words, " The usual classification into lyric, 
 didactic, dramatic, and epic poetry," &c. Whereupon I 
 closed the volume, and dictated the enclosed, which please 
 keep to yourself. As this is the way I should have to 
 treat the whole volume, I had better leave it alone. 
 
 Tour aphorisms, on the contrary, I took up and took in 
 with pleasure — you have what you speak of, and so we have 
 it too, when we hea/r you ; what you give here we under- 
 stand, or think we understand, and at least we find an 
 analogy in what we certainly do understand. 
 
 Let us stick to our old colours ! let us feel and perceive, 
 think and act ; all the rest is of evil. The more modem 
 world is given up to words, so let it go its own way. 
 
 Tour bust has arrived uninjured, to our general satis- 
 faction, and is worthy of all gratitude, because it brings 
 you whom I long to see, so near me ; but as with my own. 
 
 "■ Professor Griepenkerl of Brunswick, author of a philosophical 
 work on the ideas of Beauty and Perfection, which Zelter had sent to 
 Goethe for his opinion. 
 
252 Goethe's letters [1825. 
 
 bust, I find tlie features are somewliat exaggerated ; this 
 
 produces an unpleasant effect on nearer acquaintance 
 
 G. 
 
 Enclosuee. 
 
 It is not permissible to add to the three styles of poetry 
 —the lyria, epic, and dra/matic — the didactic as well. This 
 will be understood by everyone who observes, that the 
 three first differ in form, and that consequently the last, 
 which takes its name from the subject-matter, cannot be 
 classed in the same series. 
 
 All poetry should be instructive, but imperceptibly so ; 
 it should direct a man's attention to a sense of what it is 
 worth while to instruct himself in ; he must draw the 
 lesson from it himself, as from life. 
 
 Didactic or schoolmaster poetry is and will ever be a 
 half-breed between poetry and rhetoric ; therefore at one 
 time it tends towards the former, at another towards the 
 latter, and may thus possess more or less poetical value, 
 but like descriptive and satirical poetry, it is invariably a 
 degenerate and secondary species, which, in a true system 
 of sesthetics, should be classed between poetry and oratory. 
 
 The real value of didactic poetry — i.e. of a rhythmical 
 work of Art, with embellishments borrowed from the ima- 
 gination, and powerfully or gracefully introduced — is in 
 no way impaired on that account. All may pass muster — 
 from the rhyming chronicles, the short versus memoriales 
 of the ancient pedagogues, up to the best works of this 
 kind — but only in their own sphere, and respective order of 
 dignity. 
 
 He who looks more closely into the matter, will at once 
 be struck with the fact, that didactic poetry is valuajble for 
 the sake of its popularity ; nay, the most gifted poet should 
 consider, that if he has treated any chapter of what was 
 worth kjiowing in this style, it redounds to his honour. 
 The English have very estimable works of this kind ; they 
 first of all ingratiate themselves with the multitude, both 
 seriously and in jest, and then, in explanatory notes, dis- 
 cuss what one must know, so as to be able to understand 
 the poem. Tours ever, 
 
 G. 
 
1825.] TO ZELTBR. 253 
 
 191. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 16th December, 1825. 
 
 .... Testkrdat we liad Spiker's brand-new ver- 
 sion of Macbeth for the first time at our Theatre 
 
 The special novelty was a new, incidental Overture, with 
 choruses and dances for the Witches. Kapeltoeister 
 Spohr of Cassel, the composer, is a clever man, and were it 
 not too much of a good thing, the whole might be better. 
 I have nothing to say against the idea, for the Orchestra 
 once there, it may just as well play what is appropriate. 
 But the question is, what is appropriate ? No one need 
 blacken the night, — and that's the cause of the mischief. 
 The play is full of coarse company, and requires a downright 
 style. That was wanting, and so the audience rejoiced, 
 when the murderers up above took up their work again. 
 
 Z, 
 
 192. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 30th December, 1825. 
 .... Tour Sibylline leaf about Macbeth, I thin!; 
 I can explain tolerably well in my own fashion ; anyhow 
 it suggested to me these reflections. 
 
 These eiforts are of the kind which King Saul demanded 
 of the Witch of Endor, summoning forth the great dead, 
 when we are unable to help ourselves. Shakespeare bristles 
 up, even more repulsively than that dead prophet, and if 
 they try to conjure him back again in all his integrity, that 
 is worst of all. Such a mish-mash of very ancient and 
 very modern will always be startling, as you have, quite 
 correctly felt. 
 
 How does all this costume help ? Looked at attentively, 
 it is evident that actors and dresses, decorations and ghosts, 
 musicians and spectators are, after all, not in harmony with 
 one another. This was what distracted you in so important 
 a performance. To many others too it is revolting, 
 though they do not confess it ; many tolerate it, because it 
 happens to be so ; they have paid their money and sat out 
 their time. 
 
254 GOETHE 'S LETTERS [1826. 
 
 The Siehen Madchen in Uniform delighted the Weimar 
 public as well, for it is in keeping with the spirit of the age. 
 
 Everyone welcomes that mock-soldiering, turned into a 
 half-licentious farce, when the public is groaning under 
 the weight of a Shakespearian nightmare, and longing to 
 escape from an oppressive dream of seriousness into the 
 free atmosphere of folly. 
 
 Now that I no longer go to the Theatre, and have 
 nothing further to do with it, but only watch my children, 
 and the other generation that is growing up around me, 
 curious lights dawn upon me. They are always taking 
 sides ; at one time I find them correct in their judgment, 
 clear and intelligent, at another unfairly hampered by 
 partiality and prejudice, with all the attendant conse- 
 quences which we have known for long ; only now do I 
 understand the unsatisfactory nature of the Danaides-work 
 of so many years, during which I endeavoured to realize 
 the true and great advantages belonging to the stage, and 
 to put them clearly before the public. It was your witches 
 who bewitched me into making these observations ; hence, 
 you have yourself to blame for what yon yourself called 
 forth. 
 
 Tours unalterably, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
1826..] TO ZBLTER. 255 
 
 1826. 
 
 193. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 15th January, 1826. 
 .... In my state of almost absolute solitude, I 
 can scarcely imagine, tliat all the gaiety and bustle which 
 you let me see reflected in your mirror, should be going 
 on close around you. However well Macbeth and Ilury- 
 anthe may succeed, owing to what is expended upon them, 
 to the influences of party spirit, and even to the recog- 
 nition of what is excellent, neither of them can be really 
 pleasurable on the stage, the former, on account of its 
 excess of subject-matter, the latter, on account of its poor- 
 ness and thinness of substructure. But as a fact, I no 
 longer know what a theatrical public is, or whether, both 
 in great and small things, it allows itseH to feel satisfied, 
 or perhaps merely silenced. I have, however, a reflex of 
 it from yonder, as my children cannot do without the 
 Theatre, and I have nothing to say against it. 
 
 I like reading the reviews in the MoAide rmd Spener- 
 Zdtung; for though we look into the daily papers but 
 seldom, we come across much with good sound sense in it, 
 which leads me to hope that the general tendency is good, 
 and there is some chance of honest appreciation and recog- 
 nition. 
 
 Personally I have grown accustomed to being howled 
 at for many years past, and speak from experience, when I 
 say, that for a long time to come, we need not be afraid of 
 being outvoted, even though we may be contradicted. 
 Only no impatience ! go on undeterred, and talk between- 
 whiles ! In the end, plenty of people will be ready to 
 declare themselves in favour of our way of thinking; 
 nevertheless, we should not prevent anyone from forming 
 his own circle, for in our Father's house, there is room for 
 many families to dwell. 
 
 Art has been gracious to me, for I have received a 
 
266 goithb's letteus [1826. 
 
 beaatiful drawing of Giulio Romano's, and another by 
 Guercino. To be able to make a direct comparison be- 
 tween two such men, and to be delighted and instructed 
 by each in turn, is of the greatest value for one, who, to 
 be sure, makes conversation, now and then, out of Art and 
 works of Art, but nevertheless regards it merely as a neces- 
 sary evil. If only I could from time to time be present at 
 your choral meetings, I would promise never to utter a> 
 single syllable of criticism. 
 
 Try and get hold of a pamphlet, some fifty pages in 
 length, by Director Struve, entitled, Two of Goethe's Ballads 
 compared with the Oreeh sources from which they a/re taken, 
 Konigsberg, 1826. The author, in leading his readers to 
 the fountain, whence I fetched the draught, is kind enough 
 to prove that I have presented the refreshing liquid in an 
 artistic vessel. What the poet wished for many years ago is 
 at last recognized. He discusses the Zauberlehrling and 
 the Braut von Korinth. My next shall be directly con- 
 nected with this 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 194. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, 21st January, 1826. 
 " He who has the will, must ! " * and I go on to- 
 say, he who understands, has the will. And thus, after 
 going round in a circle, we should land at the point from 
 which we started, namely, that one must be obliged 
 (jrmssen rmisse) by conviction ; hence we may hope, that 
 much good is in store for the time next ensuing. 
 
 So many things, relating to Art and Science, come 
 almost daily before my eyes, and there would be no in- 
 herent falsity, if man were not weak, and did not insist at 
 the same time on regarding that as final which he con- 
 siders final. As a rule, however, I meet with many, whose- 
 views are beautiful, clear, and lofty. People allow worth 
 in that which they cannot reach, they rejoice in that which 
 they would not themselves be in a condition to do ; as in 
 
 * Goethe here quotes a comment of Zelter's on Lessing's axiom, Kein 
 Mensch muss mussen. 
 
1826.] TO ZEMBB. 257 
 
 the end every able man must, if lie would assert his own 
 individuality, and work after his own fashion, whatever 
 dilettantism and the levelling necessarily connected with 
 it may, in the course of the day, corrupt or hinder. Every- 
 thing will right itself in time, if only those who know what 
 they want to do and can do, persevere unremittingly in 
 work and action. Tou know this better than anyone, and 
 experience it every day. 
 
 I feel I must tell you about some pieces of sculpture, 
 which have lately arrived at my house, and on the value 
 of which I now reckon. When in Rome, I lived in the 
 Oorso, opposite to Count Rondanini, who possessed, among 
 other splendid works of Art, the face, the mask of a 
 Medusa ; it was larger than life-size, of white marble, and 
 conspicuous for its excellence. We artists and connaisseurs 
 often went to see it, nay, I actually had a good cast of this 
 same work in my room. I have now had to dispense with 
 the sight of it for forty years, as with much besides that is 
 great and beautiful ; it never petrified one, but informed 
 one's feeling for Art with grand and glorious life. At 
 length I hear it has come much nearer to me, having been 
 moved to Munich, and I hazard the bold wish to possess 
 a cast of it. This is not to be had, but an admirably pre- 
 served cast, ordered from Rome by command of his Royal 
 Highness, your Crown Prince, has been promised to me, 
 by the favour of His Majesty, the King, 
 
 Being forbidden to say anything about it, I will say only 
 this much, that I am beyond all measure happy in the 
 treasure I so earnestly longed for, and only wish we were 
 allowed to look at it together. 
 
 Yet from one point of view it renews in me a painful 
 feeling, for I cannot but reflect, that in those days, 
 when I did not sufficiently understand the value of such 
 treasures, they stood before my eyes, while now that I am 
 to a certain extent able to appreciate them, I am separated 
 from them by wide chasms. 
 
 However, it may be as well thus ! For after all, when 
 in the presence of such things, which were produced in a 
 grander age, by men of greater capabilities, one loses all 
 sense of proportion. And even the judicious effort not to 
 let oneself be carried away thereby, into the path of false 
 
 s 
 
268 gobthe's lbttbes [1826. 
 
 endeavour, awakens a painful feeling, if it does not end 
 in actually hindering our life's activity. All good attend 
 you! 
 
 G. 
 
 195. — ZeLTBE to GrOETHE. 
 
 19th January, 1826. 
 .... 1 EBMBMBBR in my younger days a Jew of 
 the name of Michel, who appeared to be mad on all sub- 
 jects, except two. When he spoke French, every word 
 came trippingly from his tongue, and he was a first-rate 
 chess-player. Now this " mad Michel " (as they called 
 him), pays a visit to old Moses Mendelssohn, while he is 
 sitting at chess with Abram, the old arithmetician, and 
 begins to watch the game. Abram at last makes a gesture 
 with his right hand, showing that he gives the game up 
 for lost, and gets such a thumping whack on the head, 
 that his loose wig tumbles bff. Abram quietly picks it up, 
 saying, " But, my dear Michel, how ought I to have moved 
 then ? " Lessing has copied the incident in Nathan, and 
 now I am about it, I may as well tell you the rest. Abram, 
 the aforesaid arithmetician, is the very man whom Lessing 
 took as his model for Alhafi. He passed for a very great 
 oddity, and a very great arithmetician, giving lessons for 
 a few. Qroschen, or gratis, and he had a room in Men- 
 delssohn's house, gratis too. Lessing highly esteemed him 
 on account of his piety, and his innate cynicism. When 
 Lessing went to Wolfenbiittel, Abram begged of him a 
 rare book on mathematics from the local Library. Les- 
 sing found two copies, and sent one of them to Abram, to 
 keep as a souvenir. Some time afterwards, Abram comes 
 to Mendelssohn, bringing the book, and wants to present 
 him with it. " Why, you surely do not want to part with 
 that book ; it's a keepsake from a friend." " I know that, 
 but I do not want it any more ; the examples are good, 
 and I do not understand Greek." " Well, I see you 
 want money ; tell me, how much ? " " No, no, I have 
 money, and don't want any." " Well then, go, in God's 
 name, and if you want anything, you know where I live ! " 
 A short time afterwards, Abram comes to Mendelssohn, 
 
1826.] TO ZBLTER. 259 
 
 who happens just then to have Professor Bngel with him ; 
 he stands quite still, without uttering a word. " Well, 
 Abram, how are you ? Why are you so silent, and what 
 do you mean by staring at me in that way ? do you want 
 anything ? " " My wife has arrived from Hanover; I have 
 but one chair," — whereupon he seizes a chair and bolts 
 with it out of the room. His wife lived in Hanover with 
 her relations, for her husband never had a farthing. 
 
 It was good fun, hearing Professor Engel tell these 
 stories, and others like them, he being a thorough cynic 
 about good eating, drinking, and sleeping 
 
 Now good-bye; may our little fish tickle your palate 
 as pleasantly as your toothsome pheasants did ours ! 
 
 Tours, 
 Z 
 
 196. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Woimar, 18th March, 1826. 
 
 I SHALL wait quietly to see how the enclosed poem, 
 (Gharon,*) upon which I set great store, will appear to 
 our connaisseurs, and other congenial spirits. The lord 
 of musical harmonies will be sure to find in it something 
 Fugue-like, where manifold complications can be made to 
 move, separate, meet, and answer one another. This illus- 
 tration was distributed with the Stuttgwrter Kunsfblatt ; but 
 as it is folded together, it cannot be fully appreciated there. 
 
 Take care of it, and think it over 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 197. — Zelter to GOBTHl. 
 
 3rd April, 1826. 
 
 .... The first comfort I got from your Gharon 
 was this, that our art of the Fugue is still living, and that 
 what we build will not fall to ruins. To be sure, without 
 your explanation, I should have had to reflect a long time, 
 in order to get clear before me the beautiful contrasts, 
 (counterpoint,) because here what is most serious stands 
 
 * The name of a modern Greek poem, translated by Goethe. It is 
 one of the Neugriechischm Heldenlieder. 
 
260 goethb's lettbrs [1826. 
 
 in delightful conflict -with the most innocent love of life. 
 And the poetry which you have put into him will be his 
 delight as well as mine. 
 
 I had a similar experience with old Haydn. In review- 
 ing his Creation, and particularly the Overture which is 
 inscribed Ohaos, I had remarked that such a theme was 
 not permissible as a problem of Art ; but that genius every- 
 where had triumphed over impossibilities, and therefore 
 did so here, — giving my reasons for this statement. Old 
 Haydn let me kndw, that with regard to this matter, he 
 had never before expended a thought upon it, but that my 
 construction squared with his imagination, now realized 
 for the first time, and that he saw himself compelled to 
 recognize the pictures I had suggested. Other critics had 
 hopelessly condemned the musical paintings in the work, 
 but now I was justified. 
 
 Tours, to-day and for ever, 
 
 Z. 
 
 198. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, lOth May, 1826. 
 .... Please, dear Zelter, be kind to the bearers 
 of this, (Mr. and Mrs. Bracebridge,) if it will not incon- 
 venience you. I have nothing special to say about myself. 
 I very narrowly escaped having to undertake the part of 
 the Duke in my Natm/rliche Todhter. I have also enough 
 to endure in the preliminary rehearsal. Think of me, and 
 let me have some friendly sign from you. 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 G. 
 
 199. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 20th May, 1826. 
 FiEST of all, my best thanks for the score of that 
 truly enthusiastic song, Weltseele. It is now full thirty 
 years old, and dates from the time, when a rich, youthful 
 spirit still identified itself with the universe, in the belief 
 that it could fill it out, nay, reproduce it in its various 
 parts. That bold impulse has, at all events, left a pure and 
 
1826.] TO ZBLTBE. 261 
 
 lasting influence upon life, and however much we may 
 have advanced in philosophical knowledge and poetic 
 treatment, still it was of importance at that time, and, as 
 I can see, from day to day, it acted as a stimulus and guide 
 to many 
 
 We too had a passing visit from Matthisson; pur dis- 
 ciples of the Muses gave him a friendly ovation, sang his 
 poems, presented him with laurel wreaths, and did all this 
 at a merry banquet, which went off fairly well 
 
 When one thinks, how many men of mark just float 
 about like drops of oil on water, and at most come in 
 contact only at one point, one can understand how it is 
 that so often in life one was thsust back into solitude. 
 However, the fact of our having lived so long near one 
 another as we and Wolf did, may have influenced and 
 helped our endeavours, more than we know or are aware of. 
 
 Ton mention my Thaethon* which I always think of 
 
 with pleasure, although I regret that at the time I did not 
 
 write down the two chief scenes. Even if it had fallen 
 
 . short of the mark, still it was always something, and no 
 
 one now can form any idea of it. 
 
 I am again lured to those regions by a programme of 
 Hermann's, which directs our attention to three antique 
 Philoctetes', the first by ^schylns, the earliest ; the second 
 by Euripides, the latest ; the third by Sophocles, between 
 these two. I had soon to get quit of these reflections ; 
 they would have cost me four months of my time, which I 
 can no longer afford to squander. Of the first two. pieces 
 there are only fragments and indications ; the last we still 
 have complete. Even here I dare not go further, as I 
 am at once led astray; for I really could not restrain 
 myself from thinking out this matter, which to me is so 
 important, in preference to all besides, — the strangest 
 things occurring in connection with it. Even a very 
 ancient Latin author has written a Philoctetes, and more- 
 over, in imitation of ..^schylus, of which there are still 
 some fragments left, and by which it is conceivable that 
 the ancient Greek might in some measure be restored. 
 
 • A translation of the fragments of the Phaeton of Euripides, begun 
 by Goethe in 1821, 
 
262 goethb's lettbes [1826. 
 
 Tou see, however, that this would be like trying to drink 
 up an ocean, and our old throats would hardly be able to 
 gulp it down. 
 
 To Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd June, 1826. 
 (Continuation of my letter of the 20tli May.) 
 
 .... The manuscript of the new number of my 
 Eunst und Alterthwm is ready, and for the most part re- 
 vised, so that the printing might be begun at once ; how- 
 ever, I would rather let it rest, until the advertisement 
 of my works is before the world. At my time of life, one 
 has to lay down a law for oneself about such matters, and 
 one must not imagine that one can, like Frederick the 
 Great in the Seven Years' War, extemporize battle and 
 victory on all sides. .... 
 
 I am chiefly concerned to hear that the good Brace- 
 bridges have attended and enjoyed your splendid choral 
 rehearsals, as we hear from our last letters. Letters of 
 introduction pull both ways, and remind me of a good 
 story about an excellent lady, who, owing to her having 
 received recommendations to the Montagues, as well as to 
 the Capulets of a Swiss town, could scarcely venture to 
 stir out of her house. It was exquisite to hear her account 
 of the charming artifices she had to resort to, in order to 
 make her way at all. 
 
 Thus anecdotes from private life as well as universal 
 history prove, that in reality we wrestle and are wrestled 
 with, for life and death, about utter absurdities 
 
 And now I may tell you. in confidence, that in order to 
 give full weight to the first issue of my new edition, I have 
 again undertaken the preliminaries of a work,* important 
 not in extension, but in its poetical contents ; it is one 
 which I have not looked at since Schiller's death, and 
 which would probably have remained m limho patrum, but 
 for the impetus it has now received. It is moreover calcu- 
 
 . * This alludes to the Helena, afterwards introduced into the Second 
 Pari of Fmist. As early as the year 1800, Goethe had read it aloud 
 to Schiller, who " felt that in it breathed the lofty spirit of ancient 
 tragedy." 
 
1826.] TO ZELTIR. 263 
 
 lated to influence the latest style of literature, to an extent 
 that nobody, whoever he may be, can have any idea of. 
 I hope, as it is intended to settle a dispute, to see it create 
 
 great confusion 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 G 
 
 200. — Zeltbr to Goethe. 
 
 23rd May, 1826. 
 
 .... Hummel has given two successful concerts, 
 although his arrival seemed hardly opportune. In my 
 judgment, he is an epitome of contemporary pianoforte 
 playing, for he combines what is genuine and new with 
 feeling and skill. One hears music, one forgets fingers 
 and keys ; everything sounds as sure and easy, as it is 
 really difficult. A vessel of the worst material, filled with 
 
 Pandora's treasures 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 201. — Zbltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th May, 1826. 
 .... Mt Felix, when he was ten years old, dis- 
 covered with his lynx eyes, in the score of a splendid Con- 
 certo by Sebastian Bach, six pure consecutive fifths, which 
 I doubt I should ever have found out, as in the larger 
 works I pay no heed to such things, and this particular 
 passage is written in six parts. But the handwriting, as 
 an autograph, is beautiful and clear, and the passage occurs 
 twice. Now, is it an error or a licence ? Either the com- 
 poser has altered one part and forgotten to erase the other, 
 or an accident, as I myself have experienced, may be the 
 reason. I once asserted, when we were having an harmonic 
 dispute, that I could let them hear half-a-dozen pure fifths, 
 one after the other, and they would never find it out, and 
 I won my point. It may have been so with old Bach, the 
 purest, the most delicate, the most venturesome of all 
 
 artists, guo nihil sol majus ojptet 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
264 GOETHl's LETTBES [1826. 
 
 202. — Zelteb to Goethb. 
 
 6th June, 1826. 
 
 .... Felix has finished another quintett, which 
 we are soon to hear. I do all I can to encourage him, as 
 he urges himself on to experiment in the various forms,/ 
 new and old. I am pleased too, that his music is really 
 well paid by the publishers. In addition to this, he is very 
 ■ active, and cuts no bad figure at gymnastics, riding, and 
 swimming ; I had l-ather not advise him to fence, as he 
 really plays well. Sufficient unto the day ; you could nqt 
 
 wish for anything better 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 203. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 11th June, 1826. 
 
 .... I GAVE young Bohn, lately married to a 
 daughter of Seebeck, a short letter to that good creature, 
 Ernestine (Voss), and a little Song, which Felix's sister 
 has set very daintily to music. It is a poem by Voss on 
 the death of our friend Schulz, and I set it to music for 
 him, when I was in Heidelberg. By chance Fanny happens 
 to have set it also, and as she has really hit off the spirit 
 of it better than I have, I have sent it to Yoss's widow, 
 
 as it is equally applicable to his death 
 
 Even the day before yesterday people would have it, 
 that Carl Maria von Weber had died in London, (like 
 Achilles at the height of his glory,) but as the news is 
 not confirmed, it only gains credit, on account of his frail 
 condition. Owing to his judicious behaviour, he is a 
 universal favourite, and, according to the measure of his 
 talent, he has certainly worked hard enough ; all his 
 works, taken together, betray labour and toil, and he has 
 
 had severe illnesses to fight against 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
1826.] to zblteb. 266 
 
 204. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 28th July, 1826. 
 .... WiLHELM TON HuMBOLDT, the Minister, sends 
 
 you his affectionate greetings He too is of opinion 
 
 that the collection of Schiller's letters will be a welcome 
 present to the world, as it will explain the origin of his 
 best works, and show how he bnilt himself up upon you. 
 This is as certain, as that since Schiller's elevation to a 
 higher sphere, the eagerness to understand your works 
 has constantly gained ground. With Schiller everything 
 works from without to within, with you it is the reverse ; 
 people want to understand what they feel, — deductions 
 arise, in which Schiller is wealthy, and he turns our 
 minds in the same direction. 
 
 I observe that it is the same in music. It is only since 
 Mozart's time, that there has arisen a greater inclination 
 to understand Sebastian Bach, for the latter appears 
 thoroughly mystic, just where the former impresses us 
 clearly from without, and we go along with him more 
 easily, seeing that he collects terrestrial life around him. 
 I myself was so circumstanced as to feel no pure pleasure in 
 Mozart's works, because I had known Bach much earlier ; 
 compared with }iim, Mozart stood as the Flemish painters 
 did to Italian and Greek artists, and it is only since I 
 began to grow clearer and clearer on these points, that I 
 esteem both at the highest value, without requiring of the 
 one what the other achieves. The mystic must and will 
 remain what it is, otherwise it would not be what it is ; I 
 can go quietly to sleep upon that, and leave the whole gang 
 behind me to scream for an explanation in words, while 
 it is stumbling over the sense. Mozart stands much' nearer 
 to Sebastian Bach than Emanuel Bach and Haydn, who 
 are originals, and stand between the two first. The Don 
 JuoM and the ZoMberflote show plainly enough that Mozart 
 had a mystic element in him, and that he is all the more 
 secure of an easier effect, when he works from without 
 inwards, where first there is hght, and darkness follows 
 
 very gradually 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
266 gobthe's letters [1826. 
 
 206. — Goethe to Zbltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 12th August, 1826. 
 .... I MOST tell you another strange thing. A 
 young porcelain painter from Brunswick inspired me with 
 such confidence, and took my fancy so much, when he 
 showed me his works, that I yielded to his pressing en- 
 treaty, and sat to him for several hours.* The picture 
 proved a good one, to the satisfaction of everyone. If it 
 gets safely through the firing process, it will, both on 
 its own account, and for the sake of the beautiful orna- 
 mentation, be a good recommendation for him at home. 
 His name is Ludwig Sebbers ; he passed through here on 
 his travels. 
 
 Sibylline-like, of all its youth bereft, 
 My face with vanity is yet acquainted ! 
 For still the less of it to paint is left, 
 The oftener do the painters want to paint it 1 
 
 I have had an honest laugh over these endeavours ; but 
 one must submit to it. . . 
 
 Yours as ever, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 Enclosdee. ' 
 
 On again taking up Herr Streckfuss' translation of 
 Dante, a few days ago, I admired the ease with which it 
 moved within the given metre, and when I compared it 
 with the original, and tried, after my fashion, to make 
 some of the passages clearer and more flowing, I very "soon 
 found, that enough had already been done, and that nothing 
 would come of finding fault with this work. Meantime it 
 gave birth to the little poem, which I wrote in the accom- 
 panying book. 
 
 Let Herr Streckfuss keep Manzoni's tragedy, Adelchi, as 
 a remembrance from me ; if he does not know it, he will 
 be pleased with it ; if he is impelled to translate it, he 
 
 * This portrait was painted on a cup, and Goethe sat for it some 
 twenty times ; even after the second baking, he sat again for the finish- 
 ing touches. 
 
1826.] TO ZELTEE. 267 
 
 would render a service to German Iambics, as well as to 
 the Trimeter, if he would, in like manner, follow the 
 Italian style of writing, which would be all the easier, as 
 the rhyme does not hinder him. What I think about this, 
 is clearly seen from the monologue of Swa/rto, and without 
 that, it would at once be apparent to so clear-sighted a 
 man. The whole Tragedy may be resolved into a Recita- 
 tive. I am most anxious to have your composition. 
 
 Second Enclosukb. 
 
 From God the Father Nature came. 
 
 Upon her track, the Human Mind 
 
 Fast following, caught the lovely dame, 
 
 A faithful wooer found her kind. 
 
 STor yet unfruitful was their love : 
 
 A child of lofty thought and free 
 
 Was born, to all the world to prove, 
 
 " God's grandchild is — Natural Philosophy." 
 
 See Dante's Inferno, canto xi. line 98 (and Longfellow's translation). 
 
 Filosofia, mi disse, a chi I'attende, 
 
 Nota, non pure in una sola parte, 
 
 Come natura lo suo corso prende 
 Dal divino 'ntelletto, e da sua arte ; 
 
 E se tu ben la tua Fisica note, 
 
 Tu troverai non dopo molte carte, 
 Che I'arte vostra quella, quanto puote, 
 
 Segue, come '1 maestro fa il discente i 
 
 Si che vosir'arte a Bio gmsi e nipote. 
 
 " Philosophy," he said, " to him who heeds it, 
 
 Noteth, not only in one place alone, 
 
 After what manner Nature talces her course 
 From Intellect Divine, and from its art ; 
 
 And if thy Physics carefully thou notest, 
 
 After not many pages shalt thou find, 
 That this your art as far as possible 
 
 Follows, as the disciple doth the master ; 
 
 So that your art is, as it were, God's grandchild." 
 
 206. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 6th September, 1826. 
 .... FiEST of all, please read attentively to your- 
 self the enclosed remarks on Dante. Had our excellent 
 friend Streckfuss had my suggestions before him, when 
 
268 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1826. 
 
 beginning his translation, he would, without additional 
 trouble, have succeeded better in many points. So much 
 has to be considered in connection with this original, not 
 only .what that extraordinary man had the power of doing, 
 but also what it was that stood in his way, and what he 
 strove to remove ; only then does his nature, his aim, his 
 art, shine out fully before us. Look at them carefully ; 
 if you are afraid they might hurt Streckfuss, you had 
 •better edify yourself with them, and conceal them. Still, 
 as he is sure to be working at a new edition, it might be 
 useful to him, in the whole and in details. 
 
 The enclosed table of the Theory of Sound, which is the 
 result of many years' study, was written, as you may re- 
 member, somewhere about the year 1810, after I had dis- 
 cussed the subject with you. I did not at all want to 
 satisfy the demand for a discourse upon physics, but to 
 make the compass and substance of the subject clear to 
 myself, and to point them out to others. I was prepared 
 to systematize all the various departments of physics in 
 this way. I found this table when clearing out the music- 
 cupboard ; I had not quite forgotten it, but did not know 
 where to look for it, nor do I know 'whether I have ever 
 shown it you. I have also lost in the same way several 
 Essays, which some lucky chance may perhaps bring back 
 again into my possession 
 
 Come what may. Mademoiselle Sontag has passed 
 through here, and made an epoch, with her wealth of 
 sounds and tones. 
 
 Of course everyone says that such an artiste should be 
 heard often, and the majority would like to be off to the 
 Konigstadt Theatre again, this very evening. And I agree 
 with them. For in reality, one ought first of all to conceive 
 of her and comprehend her as an individual, to recognize 
 her in the element of the age, to assimilate oneself to her, 
 to accustom oneself to her ; then of course she would abide 
 with us as an exquisite enjoyment. When heard in this 
 ofE-hand way, her talent confused rather than charmed me. 
 The good that passes by without returning, leaves behind 
 it an impression that may be compared to a void, and is 
 
 felt like a want Most truly yours, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
1826.] TO ZELTEE. 269 
 
 Enclosuee 1. 
 
 In recognizing the qualities of Dante's great mind and 
 spirit, our appreciation of his works will he greatly furthered, 
 if we keep in view the fact, that just at his time, when 
 Giotto was also living, Plastic Art reappeared in its natural 
 strength. This genius of the time, working powerfully 
 through sense and form, dominated him also. He compre- 
 hended subjects so clearly with the eye of his imagination, 
 that he could reproduce them in sharp outline ; conse- 
 quently, we see before us what is most abstruse and most 
 unusual, as if it were drawn from Nature. In the same 
 way also, the terza rvmcu seldom or never inconveniences 
 him, but in one way or another assists him in carrying out 
 his intention, and in limiting his forms. In this the trans- 
 lator has in most cases followed him, realizing for himself 
 what is imaged before him, and striving to achieve what 
 was requisite for its representation, in his own language 
 and Tiis own rhymes. If I had anything left to wish for, 
 it would be in this respect. 
 
 G. 
 
 September, 1826. 
 
 Enclosuee 2. 
 
 The whole plan of the locality of Dante's Inferno has 
 something , minutely great {Mikromegisdhes) about it, and 
 therefore bewildering to the senses. From above, down to 
 the lowest abyss, one must imagine circle within circle ; 
 but this at once gives the idea of an amphitheatre, which, 
 however enormous it may be, always appears to our ima- 
 gination as something artistically limited, inasmuch as 
 from above one overlooks everything down to the arena, as 
 well as the arena itself. Let anyone look at Orgagna's 
 picture,* and he will think he sees an inverted table of 
 
 * This painting, which has been ascribed to Bernardo, a brother of 
 Andrea Orgagna, is on a wall of the Strozzi chapel in S. Maria Novella. 
 According to ICugler, it is " a mere map, which scrupulously follows 
 Dante's arrangement of the compartments or bolge of the infernal 
 regions." — The table of Cebes of Thebes, the friend and disciple of 
 Socrates, was a representation of " the whole of human life with its 
 dangers and temptations." His only extant work, the Uiva^, is an 
 explanation of this table. 
 
270 goithe's lbttbes [1826. 
 
 Cebes ; the invention is more rhetorical than poetic, the 
 imaginative faculty is aroused but not satisfied. 
 
 But though unwilling to praise the whole, still the rare 
 wealth of individual localities takes us by surprise, asto- 
 nishes, confuses us, and compels our veneration. Here 
 also, with the clearest and most rigorous elaboration of 
 the scenery, which stops our view at every step, the same 
 style of description prevails, which, when applied to every 
 condition and relation that appeal to the senses, as well as 
 to the characters themselves, their punishments and tortures, 
 is entitled to a like measure of our praise. We select an 
 example out of the twelfth Canto : — 
 
 ' Inferno, canto xii. line 1. 
 
 The place where to descend the bank we came 
 Was alpine, and from what was there, moreover, 
 Of such a kind that every eye would shun it 
 
 Such as that ruin is which in the flank 
 Smote, on this side of Trent, the Adige, 
 Either by earthquake or by failing stays. 
 
 For, from the mountain's top, from which it moved, 
 . Unto the plain the cliff is shattered so, 
 Some path 'twould give to him who was above ; . ■ . . 
 
 Thus took we down our way o'er that discharge 
 Of stones, which oftentimes did move themselves 
 Beneath my feet, from the unwonted burden. 
 
 Thoughtful I went ; and he said, " Thou art thinking 
 Perhaps upon this ruin, which is guarded 
 By that brute anger * which just now I quenched. 
 
 Now will I have thee know, the other time 
 I here descended to the nether Hell, 
 This precipice had not yet fallen down." 
 
 But truly, if I well discern, a little 
 
 Before His coming who the mighty spoil 
 Bore off from Dis in the supernal circle, " 
 
 Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley 
 Trembled so, that T thought the Universe 
 Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think 
 
 The world of ttimes converted into chaos ; 
 And at that moment this primeval crag 
 Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow 
 
 Now in the first place, I must explain the following, 
 although in my copy of the original edition of Dante, 
 (Venice, 1739,) the passage e quel down to scMvo is also 
 
 This alludes to the Minotaur. 
 
1826.] TO ZELTER. 271 
 
 made to refer to the Minotaur, in my opinion it applies 
 simply to the locality. The place was mountainous, rocky 
 (_alpestro), but that does not say enough for the poet; the 
 special thing about it (per quel ch'iv'er'anco) was so terrible 
 that it bewildered eyes and sense. Hence, in order only to 
 some extent to satisfy himself and others, he mentions (not 
 so much by way of simile, as to give a concrete example,) 
 a landslip, which probably in his time had blocked up the 
 road from Tarentum to Verona ; huge pieces of rock, and 
 fragmentary wedges of the original mountain may have 
 been lying there, one on the top of the other, stUl sharp 
 and fresh in outline, showing no traces of the weather, 
 united and levelled by vegetation, but in such a position, 
 that the huge single fragments, poised lever-like, might 
 easily have been made to totter by a mere kick. This 
 happens here too when Dante descends. 
 
 But now the poet wants to go immeasurably beyond that 
 natural phenomenon, he uses Christ's descent into Hell, 
 so as to find a sufficient cause, not only for this wreck, but 
 for many another which occurs in the kingdom of Hell. 
 
 The wanderers are now getting nearer and nearer to the 
 trench of blood, which, bow-like, is surrounded by a level 
 strand, which is also circular, where thousands of Centaurs 
 are leaping about, and keeping their wild guard. Virgil, 
 down on the plain, has already come near enough to 
 Charon, but Dante is still tottering with uncertain steps 
 among the rocks ; we must refer to the passage again, for 
 the Centaur speaks to his companions : — 
 
 He said to his companions : " Are you ware 
 
 That he behind moveth whate'er he touches ? 
 
 Thus are not wont to do the feet of dead men." 
 
 Now let anyone ask his imaginative faculty, whether 
 this stupendous fall of rook and mountain has not become 
 entirely present to his mind ? In the other Cantos, with 
 a change of scene, just the same tenacity and finish may be 
 found and pointed out, through the recurrence of the same 
 conditions. Such parallel passages make us familiar and 
 thoroughly at home with the most intensely individual 
 spirit of Dante's poetry. 
 
 The difference between the living Dante and the departed 
 
272 Goethe's lbttees [1826. 
 
 spirits is also striking elsewhere, as for example, when the 
 spiritual inhabitants of the Purgatorio are terrified at Dante, 
 because he casts a shadow, by which they recognize his 
 bodily presence. 
 
 G. 
 Weimar, 9th September, 1826. 
 
 Enclosure 3. 
 The Science of Music 
 
 Developes the laws of the Audible. This last arises from 
 the vibrations of (various) bodies, and for us more par- 
 ticularly from the vibration of the air. 
 
 In the widest sense the Audible is infinite. But from 
 this we set aside uproar, noise, and speech (Oerdusch, Schall, 
 und Sprache). 
 
 There remains that with which we have immediately to 
 do, the musically audible, (Sound.) (jDer EJang.) 
 
 This depends upon the purity of material, and the extent 
 of the body that vibrates or causes vibrations. 
 
 In order to arrive at the measure of this extent, let ns 
 first regard the sounding body as a whole. 
 
 The distinct sound given by the whole, of itself, is called 
 the Ground-tone. 
 
 The whole diminished gives a higher note, — enlarged, a 
 lower. 
 
 We may diminish the whole gradually and without a 
 break, but this gives no proportional parts. 
 
 We may divide the whole ; this gives proportions. 
 
 The chief proportional parts are at some distance from 
 each other (Chords). 
 
 The space between these is filled by intermediate pro- 
 portional parts, resulting in a kind of gradual progression 
 (Scale). 
 
 By these steps the ground-tone proceeds upwards and 
 downwards, till it finds itself again (Octave) . 
 
 More than this is not necessary at the beginning. What 
 remains must be developed, modified, and explained by 
 practical demonstration. The science is founded entirely 
 on principles derived from experience, and is expounded 
 
1826.] TO ZELTER. 273 
 
 in three divisions. The mnsioally audible appears to us, 
 (1) Organically (Subjectively) ; (2) Mechanically (partly 
 subjectively, partly objectively) ; and (3) Mathematically 
 (Objectively). All three are ultimately united, agreeably 
 by the power of the musician, and in a more difficult 
 manner, by scientific demonstration. 
 
 I. Oeganic (Subjictite) Music. 
 
 How the tone-world is revealed by and to mankind, 
 appearing in the voice, received again by the ear, exciting 
 the whole body indirectly, and necessitating a mental and 
 moral inspiration, and a culture of the inward and outward 
 sense. 
 
 Science of Singing. 
 
 Song is perfectly productive of itself. The natural gift 
 of the outward sense, and the genius of the inward spirit, 
 are absolutely required. 
 
 The Ghest Voice. 
 The voices, varying in height and depth, are as follows, 
 counting upwards : — Bass, Tenor, Alto, and Treble. Each 
 is to be considered as a whole. Each comprises an octave 
 and something over. They overlap one another, and con- 
 tain together about three octaves. They are divided be- 
 tween the two sexes. Hence the significance of puberty, 
 and the consequent change of voice, which can be prevented 
 by castration, 
 
 Begister. 
 I.e. the limit of the chest-voice. 
 
 The Mead Voice. 
 
 Transition into the mechanical. Artificial union of both 
 voices. Detailed explanation of the organization of the 
 chest and throat. 
 
 Corollary, from the voices of animals, especially of birds. 
 
 Acxmstics. 
 
 Receptivity of the ear. Its apparent passivity and iu- 
 difference. Compared with the eye, hearing is a dumb 
 
274 goithb's letters [1826. 
 
 sense ; only part of a sense. We must ascribe to the ear, 
 as to a highly organized entity, counter-efiect and claim, 
 whereby alone that sense is capable of taking up and 
 grasping that which is presented to it from without. But 
 in the case of the ear, special attention has always to be 
 given to the medium of the sound, which operates actively 
 on the effect. The productivity of the voice is thereby 
 engendered, aroused, elevated, and multiplied. The whole 
 body is set in motion. 
 
 Bhythm. 
 
 The whole body is incited to move in step (March), or 
 in skips (Dance and Gesticulation). 
 
 All organic movements are manifested by means of 
 pauses and resumptions of motion (systole and d/iastole). 
 
 At the one, the foot is lifted, at the other, put down. 
 
 Hence arise rhythmic weight and counterpoise. 
 
 Arsis, the up-beat. 
 
 Thesis, the down-beat. 
 
 Kinds of time : Even, and Uneven. These movements 
 may be considered alone ; but soon they are necessarily 
 combined with Modulation. 
 
 II. Mechanical Music. (Partly subjective, partly 
 objective.) 
 
 Tones produced by various means, ia accordance with 
 musical laws. 
 
 Instrv/ments. 
 
 Materials. Their tone, quality, purity, and elasticity. 
 
 Form. Natural, organic, and artificial. Metal, wood, 
 glass. Reeds, length and evenness of surface. 
 
 Method of exciting vibrations. — Inflation ; impact, hori- 
 zontally or vertically applied. 
 
 Striking. Relation to Mathematics. The instruments 
 result from knowledge of the proportions of measure and 
 number, and increase this knowledge by means of variety. 
 
 Discovery of natural proportions of tones other than 
 
1826.] TO ZELTEE. 275 
 
 those shown by the monochord. delation to the human 
 voice. These are a substitute for that, and inferior to it, 
 but are raised to an equality with it, by treatment that 
 is expressive and spiritual. 
 
 III. Mathematical Music (Objective). 
 
 How the elements of Music are shown in the simplest 
 bodies outside us, and reduced in number, and in the pro- 
 portions of their measure. 
 
 The Monochord, 
 
 Co-ordinate sounds of the harmonic tones. Different 
 styles of sound-production, how they arise. Sympathetic 
 vibrations. Organic demand for and subjective excite- 
 ment of co-ordinate sounds. 
 
 Objective and material proof, by means of sympathetic 
 vibrations of strings, tuned to these proportional parts. 
 
 Foundation of the simplest proportions of tone. Dia- 
 tonic scales. The demands of nature not to be satisfied in 
 this way. Practical exemplifications not to be accounted 
 for, or shown in this way. — Reference to the minor mode. 
 It is not generated in the first series of harmonic tones. 
 It is manifested by means of less obvious conditions of 
 numerical and commensurate proportions, and yet is per- 
 fectly suited to the nature of mankind, even more perfectly 
 than the first, more obvious mode. 
 
 Objective proof (contrary to the usual order of things) 
 in the sounding of tuned strings, for this tone, which is dis- 
 covered by practical experiment. (Thus the ground-tone 
 C gives, in the upward direction, the harmony of C major, 
 and in the downward direction, that of P minor.) 
 
 The major and minor mode are the antipodes (polarities) 
 of musical science. First principle of both — the major is 
 generated from rising, the tendency to ascend, and to 
 extend all intervals upwards ; the minor, from falling, — its 
 tendency is to descend, and to extend its intervals down- 
 wards. (The minor scale extended upwards becomes 
 major.) Working-out of this paradox, as the ground of 
 aU music. 
 
276 gobthe's lettbes [1826, 
 
 Origin and necessity of tlie leading note (subsemitowmm 
 modi) in rising, and of the minor third in falling. 
 
 Connection of the two modes by the dominant and tonic. 
 (T-he former must always be major. Query, whether the 
 latter must always be minor ?) 
 
 Origin of Arsis and Thesis in all motion in this way, as 
 also of the co-operation of material bodies, and of rhythm. 
 
 Artistic Treatment. 
 
 Limits of the octave. Concatenation of their identities. 
 Definition of proportion of tone. With and against nature. 
 
 The art of rendering tones nebulous, and their outlines 
 indistinct, in order to cause the approach of different keys 
 to one another, and to make it possible to use one as well 
 as another. 
 
 {I.e. Temperament.) 
 
 Instruction in singing. Exercises, to acquire the per- 
 ception of what is easy and difficult, in the fundamental and 
 derivative elements of vocalization. Grasp of genius and 
 talent, and employment of all that has been said before, as 
 material and instrument. 
 
 Union of speech with song, particularly in the Gcmto 
 fermo, Recitative, and Quasi parlando. 
 
 Distinction (of song) from speech by a kind of register, 
 and transition to this, and so to rational utterance. 
 
 Noise (uproar). Transition into the formless and the 
 fortuitous. 
 
 207. — GoBTHB TO Zelteb. 
 
 Weimar, 15th September, 1826. 
 Heeewith, dearest Friend, the latest thing of the 
 day, nay, of the hour ! The poem has just been recited, 
 
 but now we should like to sing it too 
 
 With kindest greetings and good wishes, 
 
 G. 
 
1826.] TO ZELTEE. 277 
 
 Enclosure. 
 
 The Allied Brethren of the Amdlia Lodge at Weimar to their Brother, 
 His Most Serene Highness, Karl Bemhard,* Duke of Sachs-Weimwr- 
 Eisenach, on his retwmfrom a happy and profitable stay in America, 
 on the 15th of September, 1826. 
 
 A freshening gale ! Hoist, hoist the sail ! 
 So dreamed the youth of late ; 
 As man he sees his wish prevail, 
 Nor long had he to wait. 
 On, on he journeys, far away, 
 Through wind, and storm, and foam, 
 On alien soil scarce rests a day, 
 And sees again his home. 
 
 A humming, like a swarm of bees, 
 They build with all their might ; 
 Empty and poor the morning sees 
 A state that's rich by night. 
 Submissive now the rivers trace 
 Their way through desert land. 
 The rock becomes a dwelling-place, 
 Flowers blossom in the sand. 
 
 Forthwith the princely pilgrim greets, 
 With manner firm and mild. 
 As brother, each good man he meets, 
 As father, every child. 
 He feels it beautiful to be. 
 Where God hath newly blessed j 
 With every honest fellow free, 
 And equal with the best. 
 
 Country and towns doth he survey. 
 Keen-sighted to compare ; 
 Fond of his kind, at dances gay. 
 Beloved of ladies fair ; 
 Both fight and victory to boot 
 He knows, among the brave ; 
 The cannon fire a loud salute, 
 In recognition grave. 
 
 He feels that noble land's advance, 
 Her fortune is his own, 
 To her, ere now, full many a glance 
 Across the sea hath flown. 
 
 * The son of the Grand Duke, Karl August. 
 
278 GOETHE'S LETTEES [1826, 
 
 But let that be as it may be, 
 He dwells among us all ! — 
 Earth's greatness is activity, 
 Love sets her free from thrall. 
 
 208. — Goethe to Zilter. 
 
 Weimar, 11th October, 1826. 
 .... Geillpaezee is an agreeable, pleasant man, 
 and I dare say one may credit him with, innate poetical 
 talent; how far it reaches, and what it accomplishes, I 
 will not say. It is natural that he should have appeared 
 somewhat oppressed in our free life 
 
 Do not delay to take up your parable in writing, about 
 the Table I sent you. Tou will see from it, how earnest was 
 my endeavour, at least to define for Science the boundaries 
 of that vast kingdom. Every chapter, every paragraph 
 points to something pregnant ; the method of arrangement 
 may be allowed to pass ; I chose it, because I thought of 
 making it somewhat similar in form to my Farhenlehre. 
 I intended to have done a good deal more, but it had to be 
 set aside, owing to the hurry-scurry of my life. One 
 ought to say to oneself betimes, that it is advisable, never 
 to meddle with anything, that one cannot appropriate to 
 oneself by enjoyment, nor energize productively, for one's 
 own and other people's delight 
 
 Now, in haste, let me ask you kindly to give ray best 
 thanks to our excellent and energetic Felix, for that splendid 
 copy of his careful aesthetic studies ; his work, as well as 
 that of his master, will be instructive entertainment to our 
 Weimar connaisseurs during the long winter evenings, 
 which are now close upon us 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE, 279 
 
 1827. 
 
 209. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 20th February, 1827. 
 .... Mt Felix has accepted an invitation to 
 Stettin, to conduct his latest works there ; he left Berlin 
 on the 16th. The lad reached his nineteenth year on the 
 third of this month, and his work grows in ripeness 
 and individuality. His last Opera, which it takes a whole 
 evening to perform, has been now, for more than a year, 
 travailing for birth at the Theatre Royal, and never reaches 
 the light ; whereas all manner of French rubbish and trash 
 is on the stage, and hardly lives to the second represen- 
 tation. As we are young, and all other advantages are 
 in our favour, for which many others have to wear away 
 the best part of their life, it cannot do us very much 
 damage, — if I did not wish, that with his industry, he 
 might as soon as possible grow out and ahead of our time, 
 to which we have to be civil, whether we like it or not. 
 I dare say I might still be of some use to him, by making 
 
 him fall back more and more upon himself 
 
 Tours, 
 
 210. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 2nd March, 1827. 
 Testbedat evening, (the 1st of March,) while 
 Riemer and I were revising your letters of the year 1820, 
 I reaUy felt quite anxious about you, thinking over again 
 your rash and dangerous voyage to Swinemiinde. It is 
 strange, that a danger long since past, appears in its pe- 
 culiar form, far greater, and more real, than when we first 
 hear of it, directly after its occurrence, for the mind 
 struggles against it, as in the distress itself, striving to 
 lessen its impression, and the joy of the escape passionately 
 
280 Goethe's lkttees [1827. 
 
 contributes to this feeling. In after years, all is different ; 
 we then have courage to look upon our terror, but for 
 this very reason, it rises in the description to its real 
 magnitude. 
 
 The account of your trip to St. Petersburg was welcomed 
 with many thanks ; the ladies of our court, who had seen 
 the model on the spot, told us about it, but only inciden- 
 tally. Since the great catastrophe * first gave clear proof 
 of tiie bad situation of this huge city, whenever there is a 
 fall in the barometer, especially at night, when the storm 
 is raging among my fir-trees, I am forced to think of that 
 locality. 
 
 If people are compelled — like the Venetians — ^to settle 
 down in a swamp, or by chance, establish themselves in 
 a most unsuitable locality, as did the first Romans, — well, 
 it can't be helped ; but deliberately to do the clumsy thing, 
 like the great Emperor,t to the irreparable ruin of his own 
 people, is surely too lamentable an expression of the prin- 
 ciple of absolute monarchy. An old fisherman is said to 
 have told him beforehand, that it was not a fit place for a 
 city. 
 
 If I want to make an excuse for him, I am driven to 
 say, that his great original genius was led astray by a fit of 
 imitation. He had Amsterdam and the dyke-system of 
 Holland in his mind, and did not perceive that it was 
 wholly inappropriate here. The Dutch themselves made 
 the same mistake, in the laying out of Batavia, inasmuch 
 as they imagined, that people could live among marshes 
 in the Torrid Zone, with as na.uch impunity, as they could 
 in the Temperate and the Frigid. 
 
 * The inundation of the Neva. 
 
 f "The situation of Petersburg," said Goethe to Eckermann, "is 
 quite unpardonable, especially when we reflect that the ground rises in 
 the neighbourhood, and that the Empei'or could have had a city quite 
 free from all this trouble, arising from overflow of the stream, if he had 
 but gone a little higher up, and had only had the haven in this low place. 
 An old shipmaster represented this to him, and prophesied that the 
 people would be drowned every seventy years. There stood also an 
 old tree, with various marks from times when the waters had risen to 
 a great hei^t. But all this was in vain ; the Emperor stood to his 
 whim, and had the tree cut down, that it might not bear witness against 
 him." 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE. 281 
 
 Kow for something more cheerful ! as you are taking 
 up French, I would advise you — if you have not already 
 done so, — to read Le Theatre de Clara Oazul and the Poesies 
 de Beranger. In both you will very clearly recognize, what 
 can be achieved by talent, not to say genius, when it 
 appears at a pregnant point of time, and is perfectly 
 reckless. Why, we began much in the same way 
 
 A very favourable review of Ternite's* Pompejana is 
 ready for the printer; we shall also make honourable 
 mention of his Fra Angelico. Meyer knows the picture 
 very well, having seen it in Florence. To be sure, if this 
 heavenly life is to make any impression, we must purge 
 our eyes to some extent of that earthly life, for, thank 
 God, we have withdrawn ourselves quite as far from Priest- 
 craft, as we have again drawn nigh to Nature ; we cannot 
 
 and must not renounce this inestimable advantage 
 
 G. 
 
 211. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 19tli March, 1827. 
 How should the friend answer his friend in such a 
 case ? t A like calamity drew us so close to each other, 
 that the bond between us could not be more intimate. 
 The present sorrow leaves us as we are, and that of itself 
 is a great deal. 
 
 The Fates are never weary of relating to one another the 
 old myth of the Mght, breaking in a thousand thousand 
 times, and yet once more. To live long, means, to outlive 
 many ; such is the pitiful refrain of our vaudeville-like, 
 listless life ; it comes round again and again, fretting us, 
 and yet goading us to fresh and earnest endeavour. 
 
 The circle of persons with whom I come most in contact, 
 seems to me like a roll of Sibylline leaves, which, being 
 consumed by the flames of life, vanish, one after the other, 
 into the air, thus making those that are left snote precious, 
 from moment to moment. Let us work, until we, in our 
 turn, either before or after one another, are summoned by 
 
 • The Inspector of the Eoyal Gallery at Potsdam. 
 + Alluding to the death of Zelter's only remaining son. 
 
282 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 the Spirit of the Universe to return into ether. And may 
 the Eternally-Living not deny us new activities, like those 
 in which we have already been put to the test ! Should 
 He, father-like, add to these the remembrance, and after- 
 feeling of the rectitude and virtue we desired and achieved 
 even iu this world, we should assuredly but plunge all 
 the more eagerly in amongst the wheels of this world's 
 machinery. 
 
 The Enteleohean* Monad must preserve itself only in 
 restless activity ; if this becomes its other nature, it can 
 never, throughout Eternity, be in need of occupation. 
 Forgive me these abstruse expressions ! but people have 
 from of old lost themselves in such regions, and tried to 
 impart their meaning by this kind of speech, where Season 
 did not prove sufficient, and yet where one would not, by 
 choice, allow Unreason to prevail. 
 
 That in the midst of your sorrow, you should remember 
 that number of Kwnst wad Alterfhwn, pleased me very 
 much, for even when we are suffering from the heaviest losses, 
 we ought at once to begin looking about us, to see what 
 is left for us to receive and to do. How often have we, in 
 such cases, tested our activity with renewed eagerness, 
 and thereby diverted our minds, and let in all sorts of 
 consolation ! The meaning I discovered in that passage 
 from Aristotle was a great gain to me, as well on its 
 own account, and for the sake of the aesthetic connec- 
 tion, as because a truth casts light around itself on all 
 
 sides 
 
 Ever and eternally yours, 
 Goethe. 
 
 212. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, agth March, 1827. 
 .... On a recent occasion, which I may perhaps 
 ere long specify more particularly, I said, " Ufaut croi/re a 
 la simpUdte," which means, one must believe in simplicity, 
 
 * From ei/reXexem, the actual being of a thing ; Aristotle calls the 
 soul the ivreXixua of the body, that by which it actually is, though it 
 had a capacity of existing before. The expression is also found in 
 Leibnitz. 
 
1827.] TO ZBLTBE. 283 
 
 in what is simple, in what is originally productive, if one 
 wants to go the right way. This however is not granted 
 to everyone ; we are born in an artificial state, and it is far 
 easier to make it more artificial still, than to return to 
 what is simple 
 
 On Wednesday Kriiger plays Orestes in my Iphigenie ; 
 but it is impossible for me to be present, as he would 
 doubtless wish. What to me is the recollection of the 
 days, when I felt, thought, and wrote all that ! 
 
 And yet, quite recently, I haVe been tormented in the 
 same kind of way. An Englishman,* who — like others — 
 came to Germany, not to learn German, and was carried 
 away by the stimulus of brilliant intellectual society, made 
 an attempt to translate my Tasso into English. The first 
 passages he tried his hand at were not so bad, and as the 
 work progressed, it got better and better, not without 
 the interference and co-operation of my domestic literary 
 circle, which is always revolving, like a screw. 
 
 Then, as he wanted me to read through the whole piece 
 with pleasure and comfort, he had his first copy very hand- 
 somely set up in grand octavo, and new type, so that of 
 course I felt myself bound to go carefully and attentively 
 through this strange work, which I have never re-read since 
 it was printed, and have at most, heard imperfectly, when 
 seated at a distance from the stage. Then, to my sur- 
 prise, I clearly perceived what I had aimed at and what I 
 had achieved in former days, and understood, how young 
 people can find pleasure and consolation, by hearing, in 
 well-set speech, that others have at one time tormented 
 themselves, as they themselves are being tormented now. 
 The translation is remarkable, some few mistakes have 
 been altered, at my suggestion, the language becomes more 
 and more fluent as one proceeds, and the last Acts, and the 
 passionate speeches are extremely good 
 
 The completion of a worh of art in itself is the eternal, 
 indispensable requisite ! Aristotle, who had perfection be- 
 fore him, is said to have thought of the efEect ! What a 
 pity! 
 
 • Probably C. Des VoeuK, whose translation of Tasio was published 
 in this year. 
 
284 gobthe's lbttees [1827. 
 
 If, in these quiet days, I had at my command more 
 youthful powers, I should give myself up entirely to the 
 study of the Gtreek, in spite of aU the difficulties I am 
 conscious of. Nature and Aristotle would be the aims I 
 had in view. We can form no- conception of all that this 
 man perceived, saw, noticed, observed, but he certainly 
 was over-hasty in his explanations. 
 
 But do we not do the same, up to this very day ? We 
 have no lack of experience, we only lack calmness of mind, 
 whereby alone our experience becomes clear, true, lasting, 
 and of use. 
 
 See the Theory of Light and Colour, as interpreted before 
 my very eyes, by Professor Fries * of Jena ; it is a series 
 of hasty conclusions, such as expositors and theorists have 
 been guilty of, for more than hundreds of years past. I 
 do not care to say anything more about these in public, 
 but write it, I will; some truthful mind is sure to grasp 
 it one day 
 
 In my preface to Manzoni's works, (Prommann's edi- 
 tion,t) you will, as a fsict, find only what you know already 
 through my Kunst v/nd AUerthum. But in connection with 
 the Tragedy of Adelchi, and the choruses that occur in it, 
 I have said some out of the way things, which you wiU 
 be sure to welcome gladly. 
 
 What is excellent, (I say this here with reference to the 
 beginning,) should never be carped at nor discussed, but 
 enjoyed, and reverentially thought over in silence. How- 
 ever, as people neither apprehend nor comprehend this, let 
 
 ue do it, and be happy in so doing 
 
 G. 
 
 213. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 8th April, 1827. 
 ..... Old Baoh, with all his originality, is a son of 
 his country, and of his age, and could not escape French 
 
 * Jacob Friedrich Fries, Professor of Philosophy at Jena, author of 
 Jvlivs wad Evagoras, oder die Schoaheit der Seele, Mm philosophischer 
 Eonum. 
 
 \ Opere poetiche di Alessandro Mamoni, con prefazione di Goethe, 
 Jena, per Federico Frommann, 1827. 
 
1827.] TO ZBLTBE. 286 
 
 influence, especially that of Couperin. One wants to show 
 one's willingness to oblige, and so one writes only for tlie 
 time being. One can, however, dissociate him from this 
 foreign element; it comes off like thin froth, and the 
 shining contents lie immediately beneath. Consequently, 
 I have arranged many of his Church compositions, solely 
 for my own pleasure, and my heart tells me, that old Bach 
 nods approval, just as the worthy Haydn used to say, 
 " Tes, yes, that was what I wished !"..,. The greatest 
 stumbling-block in our time is certainly to be found in 
 those utterly damnable text-books of the German Church, 
 which cave in to the polemical earnestness of the Re- 
 formation, stirring up the unbelief, which no one wants, 
 by means of the thick fames of belief. The rarity of Bach 
 consists in this, that a genius, in whom taste is innate, 
 should, from such a soil, have conjured up a spirit, that 
 must have sprung from great depths. He is most mar- 
 vellous, when he is in a hurry, and not in the humour. 
 I possess manuscripts of his, where he has thrice begun 
 and then erased again ; he could not get it to go, but the 
 music must be forthcoming, for, next Sunday there was 
 some inevitable wedding or funeral before him. Even the 
 very worst foolscap paper seems to have been scarce at 
 times, but the work had to be done ; little by Httle he 
 gets into the swing, and at last the great artist is there, 
 Bach's very self. Afterwards he makes his improvements, 
 quite as an afterthought, and with his cramped penman- 
 ship, becomes so dark, misty, and learned, using his own 
 signs, which everyone is not acquainted with, that I have 
 to refrain almost entirely from meddling with his manu- 
 scripts, because I find it no easy matter, to get away from 
 
 them again 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 214. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, April 10th, 1827. 
 .... I CALL to mind an experience of mine in 
 former days, when I had something to do with a man of 
 real mark. The Prince Primate, our neighbour and con- 
 
286 goithe's letters [1827. 
 
 staiit companion, was Stattlialter of Erfurt ; * from his 
 high and influential position, and still more as being 
 himself an author, he had a fearful number of literary- 
 correspondents, to whom, as he was a man of rank, good 
 breeding, and kindly disposition, he always sent some 
 reply, however short. Now, it is true, he had knowledge 
 extensive enough for such emergencies, but how could he 
 have time to think over, and do perfect justice to each of 
 his correspondents ? So he adopted a certain style, which 
 veiled the emptiness of his answers, and appeared to say 
 something important to everyone, whereas in reality it was 
 mere politeness. There must be hundreds of such letters 
 lying about even now. I was often myself a witness of 
 such replies ; we used to joke about them, and as I was 
 trying to maintain an unconditional love of truth, in 
 dealing with myself and others, (which, as I too was often 
 wrong, at times seemed like a kind of madness,) I took a 
 solemn oath, never under similar circumstances — my cele- 
 brity at the time already threatened me with these — to 
 give in to such a practice, since if I did so, all pure and 
 sincere relations with my fellow men would in the end be 
 dissolved and scattered to the winds. 
 
 The result of this was, that since that time, I have 
 answered letters less frequently, and now, in my more 
 advanced years, I observe the same practice, for a twofold 
 reason : I do not care to write letters with nothing in them, 
 and to write important letters, leads me away from my 
 
 immediate duties, and takes up too much time 
 
 Tours truly, 
 Goethe. 
 
 215. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 15th April, 1827. 
 
 .... Madame Catalani has scented out a few of 
 our extra Orosch&n, and I almost grudge them to her. Too 
 much is too much ! She makes no preparation as yet for 
 leaving us, for she has still to ring the changes on a couple 
 
 * Statthalter Dalberg, a Catholic prelate, and one of the moat con- 
 fidential friends of the Ducal family of Weimar. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE. 287 
 
 of old-new transmogrified airs, which she might just as 
 well grind ont gratis. After all, what are a few thousand 
 of onr Thalers, when we get " God save the King " into 
 the bargain ! It really is a pity ! What a voice ! A golden 
 dish with common mushrooms in it ! And we — one almost 
 swears at oneself — to go and admire what is so con- 
 temptible ! It is incredible ; " a beast that wants discourse 
 of reason " would mourn at it. What an impossible state 
 of things ! and yet it is a fact, that an Italian turkey-hen 
 comes to Germany — Germany with her Academies and 
 High Schools, — and old students and young professors 
 sit to listen, while she sings in English — let me write 
 angelically * — the airs of the German Handel. What a 
 disgrace, if that's to be reckoned an honour ! In the heart 
 of Germany too ! . . . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 216. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 22nd April, 1827. 
 I WAS very much struck by your significant remark, 
 that Bach, who was so thoroughly original, had allowed 
 himself to be affected by a foreign infiuence ; I imme- 
 diately looked up Franz Oowperim in the Biographical 
 Dictionary, and can understand how, owing to the great 
 activity of the Arts and Sciences in those days, some 
 
 Gallicisms may have been blown over hither 
 
 But to return to Oouperin and Bach. I do entreat you 
 to let me hear some of your thoughtful observations about 
 what you call French froth, as distinguished from the 
 German basis of the music, and thus, in one way or another, 
 to bring home to me, objectively and subjectively, this 
 instructive connection ^ 
 
 Now I must tell you, that yesterday evening, while re- 
 vising our correspondence with Riemer, I was greatly 
 delighted with your splendid letter of the 20th of March, 
 
 * It is impossible to give the German play on the word EngUsch, 
 with its double meanings, " English " and " angelically." Catalani's 
 Christian name was Angelica. 
 
288 goithe's lettees [1827. 
 
 1824, where, whilst unravelling the course of Handel's 
 Messiah, you so admirably trace the gradual development 
 of the Chorale into four parts, out of the Oamto fermo, 
 with which it originated. This leads me to hope, that you 
 will continue to think me worthy of enlightenment on similar 
 subjects, and therefore that you will, as soon as may be, 
 begin a friendly chat with me, by letter, about Couperin 
 and Bach. 
 
 Pardon these fragmentary pages ! there is such a hurly- 
 burly around me, that I am in danger of being overtaken 
 by the two greatest failings of human nature — delay and 
 over-haste. 
 
 Yours unalterably, 
 G. 
 
 217. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 22nd April, 1827. 
 .... This very week we are to have Felix's last 
 Opera * — if it ever does come ofB, — we have yet to see. He 
 has been obliged to alter a great deal, the book is not much 
 to speak of, and even the improvements are not likely to 
 be brilliant. 
 
 My Good Friday music was fairly successful. I am seven 
 
 hundred Thalers to the good, and may rest content 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 218. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 24th May, 1827. 
 .... The second part of the Wanderjahre is 
 finished ; it needs only a few rushes to bind the whole 
 garland of flowers together, and after all, any kind spirit, 
 capable of grasping the separate parts, would do this just 
 as well, and perhaps better than myself. 
 
 But now I mean to make a private confession to you, 
 viz. that the encouraging sympathy of kind spirits has 
 led me to take up Famst again, exactly at that point, 
 
 * Die Hoehzeit des Camacko, See Letter 186. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTER. ' 289 
 
 where, on descending from the cloud of antiquity, he 
 again confronts his evil genius. Do not say anything 
 about this to anyone ; I will however confide to you, that 
 it is my intention to proceed from that point, and to fill up 
 the gap between it and the final conclusion, which was 
 ready long ago. .... 
 
 Tours, as of old, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 219. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 "Weimar, 9th June, 1827. 
 . . , . A propos of this,* some of my old reflections 
 recurred to me, and I will write them down here. The 
 musician, if he is in other respects a sentient, sensible 
 being, laoral and well-conducted, enjoys great advantages 
 in the course of his life, because he can assimilate himself 
 better than others to the current of life, and to every kind 
 of enjoyment. For this reason, your accounts of your 
 travels have quite a peculiar — nay, a twofold charm : the 
 architect and musician are combined with the man of sterling 
 worth, and the range of this society is practically infinite. 
 
 The English have introduced to us their Living Poets, — 
 in two thick octavo volumes, more or less by quotations, and 
 by short biographical notices. I have for some time past 
 been studying this work very diligently; it suggests the 
 most interesting comparisons. The decided merits of all 
 these poets are the result of their descent and position ; the 
 least important of them has Shakespeare for an ancestor, 
 and the Ocean at his feet. 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 J. "W. v. Goethe 
 
 220. — Zeltee to Goithb. 
 
 9th June, 1827. 
 "What I called Sebastian Bach's French froth is not 
 so easily skimmed ofi, that you can catch it in your hand. 
 It is like the air, ever present, but impalpable. Bach 
 
 * Goethe had been reading an article by F. S, Handler, on the condi- 
 tion of music at l^aples. 
 
 U 
 
290 ' Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 passes for the greatest of harmonists, and rightly too. 
 As yet one can scarcely venture to style him a poet of the 
 highest order, although he belongs to those, who, like your 
 Shakespeare, are fa-r above childish playthings. As a 
 servant of the Church, he wrote only for the Church, 
 though not what yon would call ecclesiastical music. His 
 style is Baohish, like everything about him. He is neces- 
 sarily obliged to use common signs and names, such as 
 Toccata, Sonata, Concerto, &o., which is no more than saying, 
 that a man is called Joseph, or Ghristoph&r. Bach's original 
 element is solitude, as you actually admitted, when you 
 once said, " I lie down in bed and make our Bij/rgermeister- 
 organist of Berka play me Behastiama." That is just like 
 him, you have to spy upon him. 
 
 Well, besides that, he was a man, a father, a godfather, 
 nay a Cantor in Leipzig, and as such, no more than anyone 
 else, even if not much less than a Couperin, who served 
 two kings of France, for over forty years. In the year 
 1713, Couperin published and dedicated to his king this 
 first bit of fundamental advice — Do not strike, but play 
 (Jtouohez) the piano. 
 
 A King of France is playing the piano, perhaps even 
 the organ, pedals and all ! Who would not immediately 
 have imitated him ? Couperin's new method particularly 
 insisted on the introduction of the thumb, whereby alone 
 even and sure execution becomes possible. (If I am not 
 mistaken, in Carlo Dolce's picture of Saint Cecilia, the 
 thumbs, if not hanging down, are at all events idle !) The 
 more advanced Germans, and Bach, had long practised this 
 method,* as is self-evident, but it was still limited to the 
 
 * " Some persons have pretended that Couperin taught this method 
 of fingering before him, in his work published in 1716, under the title 
 of L'Art de tovcher le Clavecin,. But, in the first place, Baoh was at 
 that time above thirty years old, and had long made use of his manner 
 of fingering ; and secondly, Couperin's fingering is still very different 
 from that of Bach, though it has in common with it the more frequent 
 use of the thumb. I say only, the more frequent : for in Bach's method 
 the thumb was made the principal finger, because it is absolutely im- 
 possible to do without it, in what are called the difficult keys : this is 
 not the case with Couperin, because he neither had such a variety of 
 passages, nor composed and played in such difficult keys as Bach, and 
 consequently had not such urgent occasion for it." — See J. N. Forkel's 
 Life of Baoh, p. 25. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE. 291 
 
 right and left hand, whereby the latter is evidently spared. 
 The Bach method claims the use of the ten fingers, which, 
 with their different length and strength, are meant to per- 
 form every kind of service ; to this method we are indebted 
 for the incredible performances of the latest touoheu/rs. Now 
 as all men must be French, if they mean to live. Bach 
 made his sons practise the small, finnikin, dainty, Couperin 
 notes, with their befrizzled heads ; nay, he himself made 
 highly successful efforts as a composer in this manner, and 
 so the French f rizzlings insinuated themselves into his style. 
 
 Bach's compositions are partly vocal, partly instrumental, 
 or both together. In the vocal pieces, there is often much 
 more than the words imply, and he has often enough 
 been taken to task for this; nor is he strict in the ob- 
 servance of the rules of harmony and melody, over which 
 he lords it with the greatest audacity. But when Biblical 
 texts, such as " Break for the hungry thy bread," &c., " Te 
 shall mourn and lament," &c., "Jesus took unto himself 
 the twelve," &c., " Then was our mouth filled with 
 laughter," &c., are manufactured into Choruses, I am often 
 inclined to admire in these very passages the sacred in- 
 difference, nay, the apostolic irony, with whict some quite 
 unsuspected effect is produced, without raising so much as 
 a doubt of the sense and taste displayed in it. A passus 
 and sepultus introduces the last pulsations of the silent 
 powers, — a resv/rrexit or a Gloria Dei Patris, the eternal 
 regions of sanctified suffering, in contrast with the hollow- 
 ness of earthly things. This feeling however is, as it were, 
 indivisible, and it might be difficult to carry away from it a 
 melody, or anything materialistic. It only renews itself, 
 strengthens itself, gathers up its strength again continually, 
 by the repetition of the whole. 
 
 In all this, Bach is hitherto still dependent on some kind 
 of theme ; one should follow him upon the organ. That is 
 his own peculiar soul, into which he breathes immediately 
 the living breath. His theme is the feeling just born, 
 which, like the spark from the stone, invariably springs 
 forth, from the first chance pressure of the foot upon the 
 pedal. Thus by degrees he warms to his subject, till he 
 has isolated himself, and feels alone, and then an inex- 
 haustible stream passes out into the infinite ocean. 
 
292 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 His eldest son, Friedemann (of Halle), who died here, 
 meant pretty much the same thing, when he said, " Com- 
 pared with him, we all remain children." 
 
 I suppose that most of his grander compositions for the 
 organ come to an end somehow, but they are never done. 
 There is no end to them. Here I must stop, however, 
 though much remains to be said. "Weighing every possible 
 testimony against him, this Leipzig Cantor is one of God's 
 phenomena : clear, but we cannot clear him up. I might 
 call out to him :— 
 
 " You've made me work with might and main, 
 And I've brought you to light again." 
 
 221. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 17th July, 1827. 
 
 The continuation of the fragm.ent sent you on the 
 21st of June, through La Roche the actor, has been lying 
 on my desk ever since, and I have not been able to make 
 up my mind to send it ofE ; I know not how, but some 
 morose thoughts had got into it, such as one should never 
 send to a distance, for by the time they give a friend a dis- 
 agreeable hour, one has quite recovered from them oneself, 
 and by means of happy and resolute activity, one has 
 long since escaped from that gloomy condition, when vexa- 
 tion at being interrupted in one's work took one by sur- 
 prise for the moment. . , . . 
 
 The high pressure of musical, dramatic, literary, scien- 
 tific, and other performances in Berlin, which are thrust 
 before us in the papers, would wellnigh bewilder and over- 
 power a distant recluse ; however, I willingly believe that 
 in the midst of all this bustle, one may well remain true to 
 oneself, just as good inspirations are quite possible on the 
 shore of the raging ocean, or elsewhere 
 
 Tour friend has moved up from his Garden-House, 
 finding that he was too dependent upon artistic and literary 
 surroundings, which up here are always to his hand, 
 whereas, down yonder, he has them only partially at com- 
 mand. It was really funny to see the number of different 
 things, which had been dragged down, during his four 
 
1827.] TO ZELTER. 293 
 
 weeks' stay there. The greatest gain, however, that I 
 realize from this experiment, is that I have again grown 
 fond of that garden, to which I was almost a stranger, 
 and that it has again become a necessity to me. The 
 foliage there, and in the neighbourhood, especially on the 
 old trees, is remarkably fine this year, and I therefore enjoy 
 what has long been forgotten and neglected, still more 
 than if it had been missed and longed for. I feel com- 
 pelled to spend at least a few hours there every day. 
 
 As for the rest, I have much in my mind, and on hand, 
 which ought to please you all, if it is realized ; I certainly 
 should like to surprise and astonish you again once or 
 twice more ; the plan for doing so is already complete. 
 
 Please ask any English friends of literature in your 
 neighbourhood, if they know anything about Thomas 
 Carlyle of Edinburgh, who deserves remarkably well for 
 
 his services to German literature 
 
 In haste, as in truth, 
 Goethe 
 
 Enclosueb. 
 
 (Continuation of my last letter of the 21st June, 1827, sent 
 through La Roche.) 
 
 Of course at this juncture, I thought of the worthy 
 organist of Berka ; for it was there, when my mind was in 
 a state of perfect composure, and free from external dis- 
 traction, that I first obtained some idea of your Grand 
 Master, (Sebastian Bach). I said to myself, it is as if the 
 eternal harmony were conversing with itself, as it may 
 have done, in the bosom of God, just before the Creation of 
 the world. So likewise did it move in my inmost soul, 
 and it seemed as if I neither possessed nor needed ears, 
 nor any other sense — least of all, the eyes. 
 
 As soon as music makes the first vigorous advance 
 towards exercising an objective influence, it powerfully 
 excites our inborn sense of rhythm, step and dance, song 
 and rejoicing ; by degrees, it runs off into the Transoxanic, 
 (vulgo Janissary music,) or into the Jodel, into the love- 
 cooing of birds. 
 
 Now however, a higher culture steps in ; the pure Gcmti- 
 
294 Goethe's lettbes [1827. 
 
 lena flatters and charms us ; gradually, the harmonic Chorus 
 is developed, and thus developed, the whole strives to 
 return again to its divine origin 
 
 I was very pleased to hear that you opened the wander- 
 ing Buch,* and made friends with its contents. I am 
 quite aware of what we owe to it, and to others of its 
 kind ; only it is a pity these gentlemen immediately set 
 up a priesthood, and — in addition to what is worth our 
 gratitude — endeavour to force upon us something which 
 they themselves are not acquainted with, and perhaps do 
 not even believe in. 
 
 Now as the human race invariably moves herd- like, they 
 soon make the majority follow their lead, and an intelli- 
 gent man, who is all for clear progress, and honours the 
 problem itself, stands alone, before he is aware of it. As 
 I no longer care to dispute, (and I never did like it,) I 
 allow myself to deride and attack their weak side, which, 
 I dare say, they themselves are quite well aware of. 
 ' Professor Fries,t who continues to hold forth in Jena 
 upon the old Newtonian nonsense, did not venture, in his 
 Compendium, to refer to the Uttle hole, which I have made 
 rather hard for them, but he now talks about a narrow 
 strip, which is utterly senseless. But what is so stupid, 
 that party-folk will not dare to bring it forward as hocus- 
 pocus ? 
 
 It is a subject that does not afEect you in any way, and 
 I should be sorry if you were to trouble yourself in the least 
 about it, but having watched it now for nearly forty years, 
 I may surely venture to tell you, how the mathematico- 
 physical Leviathan conducts itself, with the harpoon which 
 I thrust at it, sticking in its ribs. 
 
 It is no vain boast, if I assure you, that there is no one 
 living, who has such a clear insight into these mysteries as 
 I have, seeing forsooth how people drag along the true 
 together with the false. Younger men indeed see and 
 observe this, but they neither may nor can free themselves 
 from tradition, as, of course, they would not have any 
 
 * A play on the name of Herr Leopold von Bach, (Book,) of Munich, 
 a celebrated .traveller and man of science, with whom Goethe differed, 
 as to the progress of the formation of the earth. 
 
 t See note to Letter 212. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTIE. 295 
 
 language, wherewith to express themselves, and it is in 
 accordance with Nature, that one cannot speak the truth 
 with false words. 
 
 Excuse these remarks, and think of some similar in- 
 stance, that you may perhaps have met with in your own 
 province. 
 
 What you say about diction, is not unknown to me. 
 When, for instance, people want to praise a dramatic poem, 
 they say that the language is very beautiful ; but they 
 seldom take cognizance of what is actually said. In the 
 case of the Helena also, some very intelligent people have 
 been chiefly pleased with the three or four new words 
 introduced in it, and probably they have already considered 
 in silence, how they would themselves make use of them. 
 All this cannot, of course, afEect an already celebrated 
 author of sixty years' standing, but perhaps there has never 
 been an instance of anyone who has had so few readers, 
 and so many spies, pickers and stealers, who seize upon 
 his diction, because they imagine, that if they could but 
 speaJ: in that way, it would be something done, even if 
 they have nothing to say. 
 
 One Xerdon touches upon this characteristic of our day. 
 Unfortunately I withheld a good many of this kind, for 
 the sake of blessed peace. A few days ago the following 
 lines escaped me : — 
 
 America, thy lot was cast by powers, 
 
 Happier than those of our old Continent 5 
 
 Thou hast no ruined towers, 
 
 No basalt monument. 
 
 Thy heart endures no pain, 
 
 In the heyday of life, 
 
 From memories that are Tain, 
 
 Unprofitable strife. 
 
 Then use the Present happily ! 
 
 And when your child thirsts for poetic glories, 
 
 May some good genius keep him free 
 
 From knights, from robbers, and from ghost-stories ! 
 
 .... In return for your kind reception of my Scotch 
 Wanderer* I send a ballad, {Gutmamn imd Gutweih,) 
 
 * A Highland Song, translated by Goethe. It is to be found in his 
 works, under the title, Hochldndisch. — Gvimomn, und Gutweih is a free 
 translation of the humorous old Scotch Ballad, Get wp amd bar the door. 
 
296 gobthe's letters [1827. 
 
 which I must not venture to praise ; the original stands 
 very high — the happyj animated blending of the Epic and 
 Dramatic in this extremely laconic form, cannot suffi- 
 ciently be admired. If I discover anything else of the 
 kind, it shall follow forthwith. This is the fruit of my 
 stay in the Garden-House, which I gave up, because Count 
 Sternberg of Prague was paying us a visit ; I have not 
 been there again, owing to the misty rain, and the damp 
 state of the valley resulting from it, — also on account of 
 the difficulty of communication. 
 
 222. — Zeltee to Goethe 
 Enolosuee. 
 
 Berlin, 10th August, 1827. 
 
 . • • . At last we have in our hands the much 
 disputed score of Mozart's Bequiem, * corrected from 
 manuscripts, and we know what we knew. As you see 
 the periodical, OciciUa, I suppose you are sure to have 
 become acquainted with the bitter, sour jabbering of Herr 
 Gottfried Weber of Darmstadt, against the authenticity 
 of this posthumous work. There he affirms, that the 
 Bequiem is just as good as not Mozart's at all, and that ii 
 it be his, it is the weakest, nay, the wickedest thing, that 
 ever came from the pen of that illustrious man. Enough, 
 he says that Mozart left the work incomplete, but that 
 after his death, Siissmayr interposed, and embezzled 
 Mozart's thoughts, so that the work, owing to his com- 
 pletion of it, was corrupted, if not poisoned — that finally, 
 since Mozart's death, the world has been living in an asto- 
 nished and astonishing state of deception about this legacy, 
 and that no one hitherto has had the heart to bring to light 
 the blunders, spots, and faults of a spurious work of art. 
 These are the humours of Weber. But we too have been 
 in the world from our youth up ; Mozart was born two years 
 before me, (1756,) and we remember, only too well, the 
 circumstances of his death. Mozart, I say, who had been 
 so soundly taught, that he could compose ofE-hand, and 
 
 * The whole question of the authenticity of Mozart's Bequiem hag 
 been ably summed up in a short treatise, by my friend, Professor Pole. 
 
1827.] TO ZBLTBR. 297 
 
 iiave time left for hundreds of things besides, — dallying 
 ■with women, and the like, — had thereby run his good 
 natural disposition too close. In this way he comes to 
 have a wife and children, and falls into the extreme of 
 poverty, in which his civic existence is lost. Lying on his 
 sickbed, -wretched in his home, worried, decried, with no 
 helpful friends, in the end he is without even the com- 
 monest necessities of life. Some honest fellow orders any 
 work Mozart may choose, so as to give him a little money 
 in the most delicate way. An Opera-book is not forth- 
 coming at the moment, and Mozart says, " I have a mind 
 to write a JRequiem, which you may use for my funeral." 
 The weakness increases ; he begins to care for his soul, and 
 in solemn, solitary self -introspection, certain beginnings of 
 single parts of the Bequiem are unfolded, (as once, with so 
 much truth, you placed them in the mouth of your 
 Grretchen,) dies ircB — tuba mvrum, — rex tremendcB — confuta- 
 tis — laarvmosa — and it is just these numbers which reveal 
 the deepest contrition of a rehgious mind, showing at the 
 same time, on one side, the last remains of a great school, 
 and on the other, the passionate feeling of a dramatic com- 
 poser. The style consequently is a medley, — uneven, nay, 
 fragmentary, — and so arises that confusion, in which the 
 criticism of to-day takes such delight. Thus tradition ran 
 at the time, but no honest man would repeat it out loud. 
 
 After Mozart's death, worthy Siissmayr comes forward 
 as the true friend, puts the Sequiem, together, and com- 
 pletes what is wanting, so that the sufiering family gains 
 thereby a sufficiency for its nakedness. The work is sold, 
 and printed ; Siissmayr makes as good an explanation as 
 he can of his share in the work, and soon afterwards follows 
 his friend into Eternity. 
 
 Now comes the aforesaid Hans Taps, accuses the friend 
 of adulteration and lying, and talks in the most con- 
 temptuous tone about a well-meaning friend, without once 
 suggesting any safe criterion, as to where we are really to 
 look for Mozart, and where for Siissmayr, ascribing to 
 Siissmayr, what he cannot possibly have written, and vice 
 versd ; without reflecting, that if a clever man like Siissmayr 
 puts forth all his powers, he can quite well avoid the 
 dormitat Homerus part himself. And this really happened. 
 
298 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 The Benedictus is as good as it can be, and cannot be 
 Mozart, the School decides so much. Siissmayr knew 
 Mozart's School, but it was not ingrained in him ; he had 
 not been through it in his youth, and here and there traces 
 of this are found in the beautiful Benedictus. On the other 
 hand, .whatever is found fault with in Mozart's work, 
 Siissmayr is said to have done. Thus the critic explains, 
 that the first number in the Requiem has been borrowed 
 from Handel, and consequently cannot be by Mozart, — who 
 often and unquestionably attempted to write in the Han- 
 delian manner, in order to convince himself, that he too 
 could do that kind of thing. In this piece, we have besides 
 the choral music, a Oantus firm/us, and an old melody too ; 
 guess what ? It is the simple melody — (how comes the 
 Magmfieat crnvma mea into a Mequiem ?) in a word, it is the 
 old Ocmtus firmus to be found in the Luther Chorale-Book 
 up to this very day, Meine Seele erheht den 3errn. I just 
 now called the work fragmentary and uneven, by which 
 I mean, that the numbers collectively are like chequer- 
 work, and he who insists on considering them as a whole, 
 is mistaken, as are several excellent composers ; the whole 
 Mequiem, consists of such numbers, and in spite of that, it 
 is the very best I know of in the last century. 
 
 Before Mozart had taken a look round North Germany, 
 Handel may have shone before him, as the most powerful 
 intellect in Germany ; some of his compositions bear the 
 superscription Nel Stilo di Saendel. Then Mozart comes 
 to Leipzig, while Hiller is yet alive, and splits his ears 
 over Sebastian Bach, to the great astonishment of Hiller, 
 who is trying to fill the Thomaner boys with horror at the 
 crudities of that Sebastian. What does Mozart do ? He 
 proves himself in this style with a dexterity, which only 
 such a School can give. Just listen to the music of the 
 schwarze Manner in the ZoMherflote, (before the ordeal by 
 fire). It is inlaid, it is the Luther Chorale, Wenn wir in 
 Mchsten Nothen, interwoven with the orchestra in Bach's 
 style, — and so on. 
 
1827.] TO ZBLTBB. 299 
 
 223. — GOBTHI TO Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 17th August, 1827. 
 Schlbgbl's Lectures, extracts from which have 
 reached me, deserve our best thanks ; we recapitnlate 
 with an intelligent and well-informed man all those means 
 of development, on the growth of which we throve suc- 
 cessfully. The younger public, in particular, may well be 
 satisfied with them, if they are inclined to take a rational 
 view of the immediate past. 
 
 He is over sixty years of age, and knows how to estimate 
 the trouble it cost him and others, to arrive at this point. 
 
 Here and there it would require a harder hit, to make 
 the egg stand on its end. In the history of Art also, there 
 are two considerations, that must never be lost sight of : 
 firstly, that all beginnings cannot be regarded as too 
 childlike and childish, and secondly, that in the sequel, the 
 demand for reality is always in confiict with taste and 
 
 meaning 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 224. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 1st September, 1827. 
 .... Make my peace with the worthy P. Per- 
 haps I might let him have a few lines from time to time — as, 
 for example, I should have no objection to let Rosel print 
 his little poem there, if he likes to — but these good people 
 insist at once on our becoming associates, and we must be 
 on our guard against that, because, now and then, they 
 are wanting in tact and discretion. You will remember 
 too, how Gleim,* in his old age, ended by frittering away 
 his talent in this fashion ; I remember in those days, writing 
 on a page of the Mereur : — 
 
 In the devil's name, 
 What matters your name I 
 In the German Mercury, 
 Ifot a single trace I see 
 
 * Johann Wilhelm Ludwig Gleim, one of the so-called Anacreontic 
 poets, author of the Vermoh in Scherzhaften lAedem. 
 
300 Goethe's letters i [1827. 
 
 Of Fathev Wieland ; yet, 'tis true, 
 He stands upon the binding bine ; 
 And under the most execrable rhyme. 
 The name of Gleim. 
 
 My first and last topic is always your portrait. It is in 
 itself a work of great merit, and has therefore been univer- 
 sally admired. If on looking at it, the educated con- 
 naisseur still finds it something of a problem, and upon 
 closer examination, wanting in certain qualities, the reason 
 is, that this eminently talented man,* like all our modern 
 painters and sculptors, acknowledges no Sebastian Bach 
 as an ancestor, whose teaching and practice must be re- 
 spected. The result is, — with Begas, as with the others, — 
 that they try their hand at all the different styles and 
 manners, and therefore do not early enough succeed in 
 developing the right style, and in coming to a perfect 
 understanding with it. The consequence is, that the public 
 does not know what to make of many honest efforts, be 
 the work of art planned and executed in ever so careful a 
 manner, for — whatever the artist may do — a false con- 
 ception remains without effect on the natural man 
 
 Tour attached 
 Goethe. 
 
 G-OBTHB TO ZeLTBE. 
 
 Weimar, 6th September, 1827. 
 
 (Oontinuation.) 
 
 .... Be sure to note down on paper your ideas 
 about the minor scale; they would come just at the right 
 moment for me, as I too have thought out something on 
 the subject with Riemer ; I will dictate it and seal it up, 
 and wait until I hear from you, when I shall send it off 
 immediately. It would be very pleasant to find that we 
 had reached the same goal by different paths. 
 
 I think I shall now have to abandon Schlegel's Lectures 
 to the Berliners ; they certainly do not stand the test of a 
 closer examination. On reading the first pages, I was con- 
 tent to hear what was old, for what is new too often proves 
 
 * Begas, the artist who painted Zelter's portrait. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEB. 301 
 
 vexations to me. But, of course, one would like to have 
 the old rendered ever more complete, better arranged, more 
 concise, more readily surveyable ; and this is not accom- 
 plished here. And then, how can a man write a history of 
 anything that is not in his own line ? I have often re- 
 marked, that if I had to write a criticism of anything I did 
 not thoroughly understand, I was obliged to make mere 
 phrases, however much in earnest I meant to be 
 
 I got thus far before my birthday, when, as I well knew, 
 my good friends were making preparations for the usual 
 pleasant f&te; but there was a surprise for me, which 
 almost unnerved me, and left behind it a feeling, that 
 ,1 was hardly equal to such an event. 
 
 His Majesty of Bavaria arrived at night, on the 27th of 
 August, declared next morning that he had come expressly 
 for the day, honoured me with his august presence, just as 
 I was in the midst of my friends and dear ones, presented 
 me with the Grand Cross of the Bavarian Order of Merit, 
 and, in fact, proved himself so thoroughly interested in 
 and acquainted with my life hitherto, my work and en- 
 deavour, that I could not be sufficiently grateful in my 
 expressions of admiration and esteem. His Majesty re- 
 ferred in a friendly, familiar way to my stay in Rome; 
 this of itself would have led one distinctly to recognize the 
 Princely Patron, who had there served his apprenticeship 
 to Art. If I were to tell you more, it would fill several 
 pages. 
 
 The presence of my most gracious Master, the Grand 
 Duke, made this unexpected condition of things quite 
 perfect, and now that it is all a bit of the past, I must 
 really try for the first time to recollect how it all happened, 
 and to think how one might have submitted more be- 
 comingly to such an ordeal. 
 
 But what we cannot experience twice in life, we must 
 get through as well as possible im/prom/ptu. The delightful 
 feelings, the significant proofs that remain, assure me that 
 at any rate it was no dream. 
 
 So I dedicate this to you, now more than ever, my 
 bosom-friend ; your portrait was present always and every- 
 where. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
302 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 225. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Weimar,* 18th October, 1827. 
 .... Old Voss once said to me, when I had merely 
 altered the position of a single word in his Friedensreigen, 
 " Tou may as well let that alone ! " — and of course I might 
 have done so, but it would have been all up with my love 
 of the poem. I must be allowed to appropriate a part of 
 it, in order to make it completely my own ; what do I care 
 about the poet ? His word is a stone, hurled into space, 
 which I pick up, and how I pick it up, and how I look at 
 it, recognize and interpret it, is my affair ; and if he wants 
 to be just, and if he has understood me, as I have under- 
 stood him, he will remember that his word is printed, and 
 
 remains his own Naumann f of Dresden had not 
 
 altered a single word in Schiller's Ideal, and Schiller 
 scolded, like a reed-sparrow, at that famous man's compo- 
 sition, because it turned a beautiful poem into a throat- 
 exercise for a prima donna. But with no words am I more 
 chastely cautious than with yours. The very first time I 
 read your poems, I grasp the sense, the feeling of the whole, 
 and the melody comes at once ; I only stop short at a 
 word, a phrase ; then I let it lie, until — Heaven knows how 
 long afterwards — my word comes of itself, and then I 
 finish. Numbers of your poems have been lying thus for 
 
 years 
 
 Z. 
 
 226. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 24th October, 1827. 
 
 Pleasant and creditable as is the meeting of old 
 friends, and the renewal of old ties, still the influence of 
 
 * The date of this letter ia somewhat puzzling, as Eckermann tells us 
 that Zelter, who had been to Weimar on a visit, left Goethe on the 
 evening of this very day, after a tea-party, given at Goethe's house, in 
 honour of Hegel. 
 
 f Johann Gottlieb Naumann, a prolific writer of Operas, and of 
 sacred music. His compositions are still performed occasionally in the 
 Court Chapel at Dresden, but the only work known out of his native 
 Saxony, is his setting of Klopstook's Vaier TJnser. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTER. 303 
 
 tie present and the law of to-day apparently reassert them- 
 selves at once, so that these too are exposed to the nothing- 
 ness of passing hours. I made these reflections after your 
 departure, when I felt somewhat vexed, as the thought 
 struck me, that I had neglected to tell you the most 
 important things of all. 
 
 Tou were to have paid homage to Schiller's relics, and 
 you ought to have read a poem which I wrote, when they 
 were found again al Galva/rio,* — a novel too, which is 
 quite peculiar in its style, f — several smaller poems, among 
 them a collection, headed Ohinesische Jahreszeiten, — and 
 whatever else had any connection with these. 
 
 Perhaps it is not well to talk of and lament over such 
 things afterwards, yet why should one not also take note 
 of what has been neglected, when we have won and enjoyed 
 so much ? . . . . 
 
 Tours in haste, and sincerely, 
 
 G-OETHE. 
 
 227. — Goethe to Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 27th October, 1827. 
 .... Tou did well to take a look at the world 
 again, in its wild state of activity ; it is always moving on, 
 on — like a siege, no one troubles himself about any who 
 chance to fall in the trenches, or in a sortie, and we will 
 not be too particular about what is finally carried by 
 storm. 
 
 I am very glad that my letter to Manich reached you ; 
 with regard to it, I will merely remark, that Schulze on the 
 Blood cmd Circulation did not by any means find favour 
 with me, for in referring to my earlier studies in the 
 botanical field, he — in a very arrogant, youthful, and gauche 
 way — calls me to account, for not having accomplished forty 
 years ago what has not yet been achieved ! 
 
 On the other hand, your Link, whom I will not reproach, 
 because of your affection for him, lately had a certain 
 opportunity, when he ought of necessity to have mentioned 
 
 * JSei Setrachtung von Schiller's Sohadel. 
 
 + Was this Die Novelle, afterwards translated by Carlyle ? 
 
304 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 my Metamorphose der Pflangen, and yet he carefully avoided 
 alluding to it, whereas he brought forward again an old 
 idea of Linnaeus, which is no doubt ingenious, but still un- 
 satisfactory. It seems to me, as if even good and eminent 
 persons were on certain days, and under certain circum- 
 stances, doomed to be good for nothing. 
 
 Had I not gone in for the study of the Natural Sciences, 
 I should never have gained this insight, for in ethical and 
 ^ aesthetic matters, the true and the false can never be driven 
 into a corner in that way ; in scientific matters however, if 
 I am honest with myself, I must be so with others, and so- 
 I do not grudge the incalculable amount of time I have 
 devoted to , this branch of study ; for now that I have 
 treated the subject, every day must see my cause furthered, 
 every friend and every foe, whatever attitude he chooses 
 to assume, must help it on. 
 
 In haste, 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 J. W. v. GOBTHB. 
 
 228. — Zblter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 28th October, 1827. 
 .... I HAVE twice enjoyed seeing Mdlle. Sontag at 
 the Theatre Royal, as Myrrha in the Opferfest,* and as 
 Susanna in Mozart's Figaro. Though I cannot particularize 
 any special quality in her, take her for all in all, she is a 
 joyful vision on the stage. She is a pretty darling, and 
 always looks well, whether as third, fourth, or fifth in a 
 great Theatre, surrounded by so much that is strange, 
 and her vocalization and articulation are so perfect, that 
 her voice shines out amongst much stronger voices, like a 
 bright star. Her face moves with the melody, so the 
 motions of her arms and hands, and all the rest of it are 
 not repeated ; it is always the same, and yet it is new. 
 One duett was called for again ; the two singers came back 
 as they had gone ofE ; first she had stood on the right side, 
 now she stood on the left, and the whole duett seemed like 
 
 * Bas Unierbrockene Opferfesi, an Opera by Winter. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE. 305 
 
 a new piece, which I, at all events, could have heard for 
 the third time ; some people too actually called out Da 
 
 Ca^o again 
 
 Z. 
 
 229. — Goethe to Zbltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 6th November, 1827. 
 .... Thank you for having, by your graceful 
 account, helped me to realize the gracefulness of that 
 dainty songstress ; my ears have long been unaccustomed 
 to music, but my spirit is still susceptible. The recent 
 performance of the Zauberflote had a bad effect upon me ; 
 formerly I was more susceptible to such things, even 
 though the performances may not have been better. Now 
 two imperfections had to do with this, one external, the 
 other internal, and the sensations produced were such as 
 one experiences, on striking a bell with a crack in it. It 
 is very strange ! for even your much-loved songs, sung 
 again and again, would not succeed. It is better to put 
 up with such a state of things, than to talk, or even to 
 ' write much about it. 
 
 On the other hand, the Art of Form, and especially 
 Plastic Art, continue to give me as much pleasure as ever ; 
 the copies from Stosch's collection are keenly iateresting 
 to me ; Herr Beuth's kind presents too supply me and 
 Meyer with excellent subjects for instructive and edifying 
 conversation. We are arranging a number of Kuiist und 
 Alterthum, in doing which, I always think that I am 
 working first-hand for you. 
 
 Ton wiU be sure to gain pleasure and profit from a more 
 intimate acquaintance with Zahn * and his works ; as for 
 me, I feel that the contemplation of antiquity, in its every 
 relic, lifts me into an atmosphere, wherein I realize my 
 humanity 
 
 I have come into the possession of some very pretty 
 drawings, for a moderate sum, and am expecting a con- 
 
 • Wilhelm Zahn, an architect, with whose tracings of the wall-paint- 
 ings at Pompeii, Goethe had been greatly delighted. It was he, who 
 afterwards wrote to Goethe, about the house that was called after him 
 in Pompeii. See also Letters 340, 381 . 
 
 X 
 
306 goethe's lbttbes [1827. 
 
 signment of majolica from Niirnberg ; this is a kind of 
 folly, which my son shares with me. However, the sight 
 of these dishes, plates, and vessels impresses us with the 
 idea of a sturdy, bright kind of life, which is squandering 
 an inheritance of grand and powerful Art. And as, after 
 all, we like living with spendthrifts, who make life easy to 
 themselves and us, without m.uch enquiry, whence it comes, 
 and whither it goes, in the same way, these objects, when 
 seen in a mass before one, are full of bright meaning. 
 How poor, in contrast to them, is our porcelain ware, on 
 which you see flowers, landscapes, and heroic deeds ; they 
 give no impression as a whole, and never remind one of 
 anything , but botany, topography, and the History of 
 warfare, things which I can only love in the garden, on a 
 journey, and during my leisure hours. Tou see how one 
 can gloss over one's own follies ; but praised be every folly, 
 that grants us innocent enjoyment like this ! 
 
 And now let this letter set out upon the road, which I 
 myself would so gladly take, and may it suggest a friendly 
 meeting soon. 
 
 So be it ! 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 230. — ZiLTBB TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 16th November, 1827. 
 
 .... What I wrote to you about Mdlle. Sontag 
 was intended as a sort of epitome of the universal impres- 
 sion. One may well suppose that such a person, who in a 
 few w^eks can put by a sum of 11,000 Thalers — ^let alone 
 valuable presents — provokes the envy of those immediately 
 around her. Her fellows however confess, that they Hke 
 to act and sing with her, and are always sure of happy 
 
 co-operation 
 
 In England they have made a pretty good translation 
 into English of Schiller's Ballad, The Glove, with my music 
 — I wish I got any benefit from it ! Old Wielapd may 
 be right : it is not enough to live, one should also let live. 
 Addio. 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTEE. 307 
 
 231. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 21st November, 1827. 
 I MUST tell you, that our wandering nightingale 
 arrived on Sunday, the 11th of November, but owing to 
 some undecipherable brouillamini, the result of misappre- 
 hension, neglect, ill-will, and intrigue, she has not appeared 
 in public. She sang on Monday, at a dejewner, given by 
 the Dowager Grand Duchess, and was greatly applauded ; 
 afterwards, she paid me a visit, and gave us some little 
 specimens of her extraordinary talent ; these were enough 
 for me, in so far as the idea I had entertained of her was 
 confirmed and renewed 
 
 I have felt, ever since it was first announced, what a 
 great boon Walter Scott's lAfe of Na/poleon would be to 
 me, so I have let all sorts of people have out their tittle- 
 tattle about it beforehand ; but now I cannot refrain any 
 longer, and I take up the book with confidence. Scott 
 was born in 1771, just at the outbreak of the American 
 Revolution ; he was impressed, as a young man, by the 
 throwing overboard of the tea-chests at Boston, as I was 
 by the earthquake at Lisbon; how many strange things 
 he — as an Englishman — must have had to look on at ! 
 I will tell you what I think about it, as I have oppor- 
 tunity. Even beforehand, I found the public true to its 
 character. Customers, no doubt, sometimes allow the 
 tailor to choose a particular stuff, but they insist upon 
 having the coat fitted to their own bodies, and are highly 
 indignant, if it proves too tight, or too loose ; they are 
 most comfortable, when wearing the loose dressing-gowns 
 of the day and hour, in which they can feel as easy as they 
 like ; you may perhaps remember, that they treated my 
 Wahlverwandtschaften as though it had been the garment 
 of Nessus. 
 
 The Second Part of Faiist is still shaping itself; the 
 task here is the same as in the Helena, — so to formulate 
 and arrange existing elements, that they may suit and 
 accord with what is new ; to accomplish this, much has to 
 be thrown aside, and much to be remodelled. So it 
 
308 Goethe's letters [1827. 
 
 required resolution to begin the business ; as I advance, 
 the difficulties get less. 
 
 And now, with kindest greetings, let me exhort and 
 cheer you on to persevere in that activity, to cultivate 
 which — in the midst of peace — we are encouraged and 
 compelled by the hostile pressure of the world. If we 
 help ourselves, God will help us. 
 
 Ever truly and faithfully yours, 
 Goethe. 
 
 232. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 23rd November, 1827. 
 .... OuK King occasionally takes the reins into 
 his own hands : e.g., he refuses to recognize any virtuoso 
 as his Kapellmeister. Bemhard Romberg,* who as a com- 
 poser is justly ahead of all virtuosi, only achieved that dis- 
 tinction through favouritism, and at the cost of a great 
 deal of trouble, and he took his departure, when he learnt 
 that the King had engaged Spontini at Paris. At that 
 time I objected to him, that a king anyhow should be 
 allowed to do, what the most ordinary person would — viz. 
 to buy a Ka^elhrwister at his own price, wherever he liked. 
 So Romberg bears me a grudge still, although he wants 
 to be again what he refused to remain, and might have 
 been still, had he followed my friendly advice. 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 233. — Goethe to Zeltbb. 
 
 Weimar, 4th December, 1827. 
 
 As for Walter Scott's Napoleon, I have thus much 
 to say : if you have time and inclination, in your quiet 
 
 * Bemhard Bomberg, who died at Hamburg in 1841, is always re- 
 garded as the head of the German School of violoncellists. Spohr met 
 him at Berlin in the early part of the present century, and played in 
 quartetts with him. One of these was by Beethoven, (Op. 18,) and 
 Bomberg asked, how Spohr could play "such absurd stuff?" This 
 question squares with the well-known story of Romberg's tearing the 
 copy of the first Basonmowsky quartett from the desk, and trampling 
 on it. 
 
1827.] TO ZELTER. 309 
 
 leisure at home, to harp back again in thought upon the 
 significant course of the world's history, which has carried 
 us hurriedly along with it during the last fifty years, I can 
 give you no better advice, than to read tranquilly the 
 aforesaid work, from beginning to end. Here you have an 
 able, intelligent citizen, whose young days fell within the 
 time of the French Revolution, who in his best years, and 
 as an Englishman, watched, reflected upon, and doubtless 
 discussed this important event in various quarters ; besides 
 which, he is the best narrator of his time, and takes the 
 trouble to describe the whole series of events, in his usual 
 clear and definite style. 
 
 The way in which — ^from his politico-national stand- 
 point — ^he treats all this, and the way in which his view of 
 this and that matter, — from the other side of the Channel 
 — differs from ours, in our limited position on the Con- 
 tinent, — all this is a new experience to me, a new way of 
 looking at and into the world. 
 
 The most remarkable thing however, is that he speaks 
 like an upright citizen, endeavouring to judge of facts in 
 a pious, conscientious spirit, and strictly on his guard 
 against any Machiavellian views, which we should have 
 thought, were inseparable from the treatment of universal 
 history. 
 
 In these respects, I am very well satisfied with him as 
 yet, having got to the fourth volume, and shall quietly go 
 on with the book, looking upon him as a reporter, who 
 has a right to submit his documentary extracts, his repre- 
 sentation, and his vote, that he may then await the decision 
 of the assembled judges. 
 
 Therefore, not until I have read the whole work through, 
 the nine parts of which, by the way, have come just at the 
 right tim^e to cheer, and help in shortening the long, dreary 
 evenings — do I intend to weigh, with equal interest, the 
 objections that are brought against it. This cannot but 
 prove interesting. It will then be seen, whether he has 
 neglected to bring forward facts, whether he has distorted 
 them, whether he looks at them as a partisan, whether he 
 is prejudiced in judging them one-sidedly, or whether he 
 must be acknowledged right. In the fir^st place however, 
 I say to myself, that in so doing, one will become more 
 
310 goithb's lettkes [1827. 
 
 intimaitely acquainted with mankind, than with the subject, 
 and on the whole one will, after all, have to acquiesce, for 
 if one is not satisfied with history as with a legend, every- 
 thing will finally resolve itself into doubt 
 
 Tour Lady correspondent * from Sans Souci may be an 
 amiable girl ; at the same time she is a true German. This 
 nation always fails to adjust things properly, they always 
 stumble over bits of straw. Tou have answered the ques- 
 tion, very fully, kindly, and rationally ; you may look upon 
 it too as an accident, that might easily occur amongst 
 friends, who act and re-act so much upon one another. In 
 like manner, they torment themselves and me about the 
 Weissagungen des Bahis ; they used to do so about the 
 Hexen-Eimnalems, and many other bits of nonsense, which 
 they think they can adapt to straightforward human in- 
 telligence. If only they would look for the physical-moral- 
 aesthetic problems, which I have scattered so plentifully 
 throughout my works, and apply these to themselves, and 
 thus solve the enigmas of their own lives ! However, 
 many after all do this, and we will not grumble, because it 
 is not done always and everywhere. 
 
 How much there is still, to say and to write ! More 
 anon. And herewith accept a store of sincerest good 
 wishes. 
 
 G. 
 
 • A pupil of Zelter's, who had written to him, to know why two 
 Distichs, published among Schiller's poems, had also appeared among 
 Goethe's. Zelter told her that as they bad been written by both poets 
 together, they had appeared " under the firm of Goethe and Schiller." 
 
1828.] TO ZELTEE. 311 
 
 1828. 
 
 234. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 24th January, 1828. 
 .... I HATE kept tolerably well all this time, and 
 have been able to devote my hours to a great deal of 
 good and serious work. From three to four scenes of the 
 Second Part of Faust have been despatched to Augsburg ; 
 I trust that when they appear in print, you and yours may, 
 amid the streaming currents of hfe, be able to consecrate a 
 little time to these pictures of mine. I am still engaged 
 with this work, for I should very much like to finish the 
 first two Acts, so that the Helena may be linked to them 
 naturally, as a third Act, and thus adequately introduced, 
 prove itself to be no longer a phantasmagoria and an in- 
 terpolation, but an aesthetically rational sequel. We must 
 
 wait and see with what success 
 
 In my surroundings, as you know them, there has been 
 no change ; Ottilie's time is devoted to rearing her little 
 daughter, who now looks quite pretty and pleasing. The 
 world of young ladies here has been thrown into no slight 
 commotion, by the recent arrival of some English recruits ; 
 they have been amusing themselves with all kinds of 
 flirtations, so that there may be no lack of passion for 
 capital, on which, when the time of leave-taking aud final 
 renunciation comes, they will have to draw abundantly for 
 the interest of sorrow. 
 
 Tours unalterably, 
 G. 
 
 236. — GoETHi TO Zbltbb. 
 
 20tli February, 1828. 
 
 .... And now, one word more about Walter 
 Scott's much discussed, and still to be discussed Nwpoleon, 
 Be the work what it may, I feel indebted to it, for it has 
 
312 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 helped me happily over the last six weeks of the past year ; 
 and that was no trifling matter, when you think of the 
 solitary evenings, which people like us, are fain to pass in 
 an interesting way, whilst everything that has but a spark 
 of life in it, goes ofE to the Theatre, Court F^tes, parties 
 and balls. I found the work very convenient as a subject 
 for thought, inasm^uch as I took note, chapter by chapter, 
 of everything that struck me as new, and of everything 
 that was recalled to my remembrance ; after that however, 
 I immediately filled in, in their proper places, experiences 
 of my own, that I had forgotten, and thus I no longer 
 know what I found in the book, and what I added to it. 
 Enough for me, that the long, ever important, and at the 
 same time troublesome period from 1789 onwards, (when, 
 on my return from Italy, the revolutionary nightmare 
 began to oppress me,) up to the present time, has become 
 perfectly clear and connected in my mind ; besides, I can 
 now bear to look at the details of that period again, because 
 I see them in a certain connected order. 
 
 So here you have another example of my egotistical way 
 of reading; I trouble myself less and less about what a 
 book is ; the main point is, what it brings me, what it 
 suggests to me. I suppose you are not much better, and 
 I hinder nobody from doing as he Ukes. 
 
 Walter Scott's confession that an Englishman will not 
 budge a step, unless he sees some " English object " before 
 him, is of itself worth many volumes. Quite recently we 
 have seen, that the English can find no right object in the 
 battle of Navarino. We will wait and see in what quarter 
 it (the object) will really show itself. .... 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 G. 
 
 236. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 28th February, 1828. 
 
 TonB little letter has either come at a favourable 
 hour, or it has made one, as it always does. I was busy 
 at the time, arranging a number of simple, but genuine 
 and masterly drawings and sketches, which I have bought 
 at a reasonable price. This reminds me of a passage I 
 
1828.] TO ZSLTBR. 313 
 
 dictated long ago, whicli I shall look up and have copied 
 for you : — 
 
 "Dilettanti, when they have done their utmost, are wont 
 to say, by way of excuse, that their work is not yet 
 finished. Finished it certainly never can be, because it 
 has never been properly begun. The master represents 
 his work as finished with a few strokes ; whether worked 
 out or not, it is already complete. The cleverest dilettante 
 gropes about in uncertainty, and as the working out of the 
 design proceeds, the insecurity of the first design becomes 
 more and more apparent. It is only quite at the last, that 
 the irreparable want is discovered, and of course the work 
 cannot be finished in this way." 
 
 Our reader, (v. Holtei,*) does his work well ; he has dined 
 at my house, where he seemed pleasant company. Be he 
 what he may, he has brought a certain kind of general 
 intellectual stimulus into our circles. A really educated 
 public should, I think, make a halt once in a way, listen to 
 what it otherwise would have no chance of hearing, and 
 thus gain new ingredients for its gossip about the town, 
 the Court, and the English, and make the passing moment 
 somewhat more significant. 
 
 Some private masquerades have afforded an opportunity 
 for revealing a few of the truly astonishing poetic talents, 
 that reign in silence among us here. Postmen, gipsies, 
 and other messengers of the World and Fate, distributed 
 to certain persons hundreds of little poems, many of which 
 were distinguished by thoughts so appropriate as to make 
 one envious. On inquiry it was found, that they had been 
 written by persons whom one would never have thought 
 
 of 
 
 Tours unalterablv, 
 
 "g. 
 
 * A vaudeTille-writer, whose Readings and Hecitations made some 
 sensation in Weimar. He threw such expression into his rendering of 
 Faust, that August Goethe declared, he had never understood his 
 father's work before. Goethe himself, however, disapproved of the 
 adaptation. Von Holtei also contributed to a weekly periodical, started 
 by Ottilie G<3ethe, called Das Chaos. See Letter 315. 
 
314 Goethe's lettees [1828. 
 
 237. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 22nd AprU, 1828. 
 .... The third issue of my new edition will 
 appear at the Fair ; some fresh things here and there in 
 these little volumes I may perhaps recommend ; the next 
 issue has already been sent to Augsburg, and I now have 
 on my conscience the fifth, in which the transformed Wan- 
 derjahre are to make their appearance. If man were not 
 by nature damned to his talent, we should be forced to 
 inveigh against the folly of burdening ourselves, through- 
 out a long life, with ever fresh anxieties, and ever recurring 
 toil. 
 
 A Number of Kunst und Alterthum is also coming to the 
 front, and much else besides ; meantime Faust is looking 
 askance at me from one side, reproving me most bitterly, 
 for not giving him the preference in my labour, him, the 
 worthiest — and pushing all else aside. 
 
 I am also extremely inconvenienced by the wonderful 
 influx of manuscripts, which I am asked to touch up, and 
 of printed things, concerning which I am requested to say 
 a few kind words — a trouble from which I have seen our 
 impatient Wieland sufBer grievously in his old age — for 
 after all, the result is neither important nor encouraging. 
 Every person, no doubt, is entitled to make and to think 
 as much of himself as possible, only he ought not to worry 
 others about this, for they have enough to do with and iu 
 themselves, if they too are to be of some account, both now 
 and in future 
 
 My surroundings still continue tuneless and unmelodious ; 
 one day lately I tried the effect of an Opera, but the big 
 drum, which made our whole wooden house quake to the 
 rafters, frightened me off any further attempt. On the 
 other hand, my garden at the Seven Cross Roads entices 
 me at every favourable hour ; there, I succeed in collecting 
 my thoughts, and harmonizing and centralizing them to 
 many a good issue (zu manchem guten Hervorbrmgen mich 
 zu einigen und zu innigen) 
 
1828.] TO ZELTBE. 315 
 
 There have been many messengers, ascending and de- 
 scending the heavenly ladder between this and Berlin, who 
 have looked in upon me, so I am much nearer to you than 
 you may suppose. 
 
 Thy very own, 
 
 G. 
 
 238. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th April, 1828. 
 .... OuE Fete in honour of Milder, celebrated in 
 my house on the 9th, as well as the Diirer fete on the 18th, 
 succeeded beyond expectation. For the latter occasion 
 Felix wrote music,* which, in spite of the words, con- 
 tains beautiful passages ; the workmanship is masterly 
 
 throughout 
 
 Z. 
 
 239. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 2nd May, 1828. 
 Enclosure sent by Goethe to Zelter, and headed. 
 
 For the Friends of Mademoiselle Sontag. 
 
 Old and young are talking of Mademoiselle Sontag. 
 She could not have been better received in Berlin or Paris, 
 than she has been in London. She will undoubtedly carry 
 away a good purse-full with her from here. Such facility 
 and finish in singing have never been heard here before. 
 I saw her on her first appearance, and shall never regret 
 it. However, as all the papers are talking about Sontag's 
 singing, I will merely add this. It was the French Am- 
 bassador, Prince Polignac, who introduced her at the 
 Duke of Devonshire's, where, (Royalty excepted,) our great 
 people here first made her acquaintance. At a ball given 
 by the same Duke, Sontag was also among the guests, 
 and she danced there with singular grace ; everyone who 
 managed to exchange a few words with her, seemed to 
 
 * The Sons of Art, a, Cantata. 
 
316 Goethe's lettees [1828. 
 
 think himself very fortunate. Such distinction is with- 
 out parallel in London. To-morrow a grand Drawing 
 Room is to be held at Court, and it is thought, that the 
 whole of the brilliant assemblage will attend the Opera 
 in the evening, to hear Sontag again in the Ba/rbiere di 
 SevigUa. Should the King too intend to hear her one 
 evening at the Opera — as no doubt he wiU,— the immense 
 crowd will make it rather a dangerous affair. 
 
 To those who are interested in great Teehnieal Enterprises. 
 
 In spite of all mishaps, the work in connection with 
 the Thames Tunnel is being proceeded with. Not only 
 the Company, but the nation itself seems to have made it 
 a point of honour. Tou know what that means. An 
 Englishman would rather become bankrupt, than allow 
 himself to be disgraced. The whole nation acts in the 
 
 same spirit 
 
 G. 
 
 240. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 21st May, 1828. 
 .... I MUST further remark, that like the Ma- 
 gician's Apprentice, I am threatened with drowning, by 
 the flood of universal literature that I myself have called 
 forth. Scotland and France pour themselves out almost 
 daily ; in Milan they are publishing a very important daily 
 paper called L'Bco; it is in every respect admirable, re- 
 minding one of the familiar style of our morning papers, 
 but it takes a broad intellectual view of things. Draw the 
 attention of the Berliners to it ; they may commendably 
 season their daily dishes with it. 
 
 In consequence of this, I must tell you, that I now know 
 what reception Helena met with in Edinburgh, Paris, and 
 Moscow. It is very instructive, thus to become acquainted 
 with th;ree different modes of thinking : the Scotchman 
 seeks to penetrate into the work, the Frenchman to under- 
 stand it, the Russian to apply it to himself. Perhaps a 
 
 German reader might combine all three endeavours 
 
 Thy very own 
 Goethe. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTEE, 317 
 
 A graceful translation of my small poems * gave rise to 
 the following parable, whicli I herewith send yon, as a 
 forerunner of the next Number :— 
 
 I plucked some flowers, the meadow's bloom, 
 And full of thought, I took them home ; 
 There, by my warm hand circled round, 
 Their crowns were drooping to the ground, 
 I set them in a fresh cool glass ; 
 And lo, a wonder came to pass ! 
 The little heads looked up so gay. 
 The leafy stems in green array ; 
 And all as healthy, sweet and good, 
 As though on Mother Earth they stood. 
 
 So was it, when I heard my song, — 
 And marvelled, — in a foreign tongue. 
 
 241. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 27th May, 1828. 
 .... Testeedat, being Whit-Monday, Professor 
 Hegel paid me an early morning call ; then came Professor 
 Wolff, and it was agreed to look up a fourth man for a 
 rubber of whist this evening. That man turned out to be 
 Wilken ; so four German Professors were together in peace 
 
 until midnight. Cosa rara 
 
 Z. 
 
 242. — Zbltbk to Goethe. 
 
 4th June, 1828. 
 SuEBLT it is a loss, that Lessing f did not have it 
 out with you over Ootz von Berlichingen, as he really would 
 have enjoyed it, and he must have been sufficiently roused 
 
 * Goethe's poems were translated into French in 1825 by Madame 
 Panckoucke, under the title, Po(sies de Goethe. He could enjoy his 
 Fa/mt in Gerard's translation, when he no longer cared to read it in his 
 own language. 
 
 t In a subsequent letter, Zelter thus alludes to Lessing's exclamation 
 on reading Werther, "Lessing pleases me most, the earnest, severe, 
 powerful Lessing, touched in spite of himself, tender, affectionate : ' Dear 
 Goethe, one little chapter more ! ' " 
 
318 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 for discussion. He was the man in defiance of whom, and 
 for whose delight, you, in pure mischief, would have thrown 
 ofE many a piece, and you might have shaken his over-firm 
 faith in Aristotle, and made a breach in it here and there, 
 for Lessing was an honest heart. He has done more than 
 Aristotle ; he has tried himself, and actually shown what 
 cannot be done. Goethe's farce, satirizing Wieland,* 
 doubtless gave him the greatest amusement. As a neces- 
 sary consequence of his sentiments about Wieland, he 
 must have envied you this farce, which he would much 
 rather have written himself. Without this farce, the 
 excellent Euripides would perhaps have long remained an 
 unfamiliar friend to me, for at that time I thought very 
 highly of Wieland, whom I only began to suspect, from his 
 panegyric of Schweizer. Professor Engel too was of a 
 similar opinion. As Schweizer's airs, especially those given 
 to Hercules, the boastful, did not please me, I set the words 
 to music for myself, and after singing them to Engel, he 
 said, " Capital ! but why will you wear yourself out with 
 such a shabby Hercules ? A calfskin is the proper thing 
 for such a fellow." 
 
 Otherwise, Schweizer was not amiss, even if he was not 
 on a level with his contemporary, Georg Benda of Gotha,t 
 whose RoTneo a/nd JuUet I still affectionately remember, 
 because his whole personality was thoroughly sympathetic 
 to me. So true a musician I have never seen again ; my 
 darling wish was to become as Jie ; he too was attached to 
 me. With him all was truth and openness, and he had 
 absorbed just so much of Italy as a clever German of his 
 time could take in. With Naumann it was quite another 
 thing, for he never knew where to stop, and so too he came 
 to an end. But you, I expect, must have known these men 
 yourself, for they were nearer to you. So too with Ootz von 
 B&rUchingen; Lessing grudges it you, and cannot hide his 
 
 * Goiter Helden und Wieland, a farce thrown off by Goethe one 
 Sunday afternoon, in a fit of irritation at the Letters in Der Deutsche 
 Merkur, comparing Wieland's Operetta, AlcestCj to the Tragedy of 
 Enripides. 
 
 f A famous clavier-player and oboist. His Duodrama, Ariadne avf 
 Naxos, {nii,) was the first of its kind. His Medea was equally suc- 
 cessful. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTEE. 319 
 
 vexation. Just think a moment : is it not impertinent, 
 that a stripling from Frankfurt should, like a second 
 Prometheus, construct such beings out of swih clay, whe- 
 ther you like it, or whether you don't, and pass by all the 
 gods, without lifting his hat P . . . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 243. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Dornburg, 10th July, 1828. 
 
 Sad to the inmost heart, I was forced to spare my 
 eyes and ears at least, so on the 7th of July I repaired to 
 Dornburg, to escape those gloomy functions* through 
 which — as is both right and proper — we give the multitude 
 a symbolical illustration of its recent loss, which, in the 
 present instance, it certainly feels in every sense. 
 
 I do not know if you are acquainted with Dornburg, a 
 small town on the height in the Saale- valley, below Jena ; 
 in front of it, just on the slope of the Kalkflotz ridge, is a 
 series of Castles, big and little, which have been built at 
 widely different periods, and there are villas, surrounded 
 by pretty gardens. I am occupying the little old Castle 
 at the southernmost end, which has been newly done up. 
 The view is glorious and inspiriting, the well-kept gardens 
 are full of blooming flowers, the trellised vines are covered 
 with rich clusters of grapes, and below my window I see a 
 thriving vineyard,t which was planted on the most barren 
 of hill-sides, only three years ago, by the Deceased, who 
 loved to rejoice in the first green leaves of it, even so 
 lately as last Whitsuntide. On the other side, the bowers 
 of roses are quite fairy-like in their bloom, and the 
 
 * The funeral of the Grand Duke, Karl August. The news of his 
 death, on the 14th of June, was broken to Goethe on the day following, 
 by his son August. Goethe was inconsolable. " I thought," said he, 
 " that I should depart before him ; but God disposes as He thinks best ; 
 and all that we poor mortals have to do, is to endure and keep ourselves 
 upright as well and as long as we can." See Eckermann's Conversations 
 of Goethe, p. 322. 
 
 t " I . . . . hold spiritual communion with the tendrils of the vine, 
 which say good things to me, and of which I could tell you wonders." 
 See Eckermann's Conversatimis of Goethe, p. 323. 
 
320 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 mallows, and I know not what besides, are blossoming and 
 gay; to me all this appears in heightened colours, like a 
 rainbow on a dark gray background. 
 
 For fifty years past, I have frequently, enjoyed life on 
 this spot with him, and could not at this time have stayed 
 at any place, where the beautiful results of his activity 
 could have been more strikingly brought before me. The 
 more ancient part has been preserved and restored, the 
 new bit, (I mean the little Castle I am living in, which 
 was formerly private property,) has been suitably and 
 carefully arranged, and connected with the old Castle 
 gardens by lovely sloping walks and terraces. It is suffi- 
 ciently spacious for a numerous household, if no exorbitant 
 demands are made ; there is no fuss nor pedantry, yet 
 everything the gardener* is called upon to do, is perfect, 
 the laying out of the grounds, as well as the flowers-beds. 
 
 And as it is, so it will continue, for the younger master 
 and mistress can also understand what is good and suitable 
 in these arrangements, and they have given proofs of this 
 for several years past, when staying here on longer or 
 shorter visits. It is a pleasant feeling too, that one about 
 to leave the world, should give into the hands of the sur- 
 vivors, a kind of clue, by which they are enabled to guide 
 their onward steps. 
 
 I too intend to keep the symbol granted to me, and to 
 abide by it. 
 
 I want you to know, how your friend here, in his airy 
 Castle, overlooking a pretty valley, with flat meadows, 
 hilly fields, and vegetation reaching up to the steep, in- 
 accessible edges of the forest, spends these long days 
 from sunrise to sunset, so I will tell you in confidence, 
 that for some time past I have been induced by foreign 
 agencies, to take up again the study of natural science. 
 Dear old Germany is quite unique in her peculiarity ; 
 I have been honestly on the watch to see, whether, 
 among the results of the Scientific meetings, which have 
 been going on for the last three years, I could find any- 
 thing that might rouse, interest, and excite me, who for 
 
 * The Court-Gardener, Sekell, afterwards published a record of 
 Goethe's stay in Dornburg. 
 
1828.] TO ZILTBR. 321 
 
 the last fifty years have been passionately devoted to the 
 study of Natnre ; but with certain exceptions here and 
 there, — though even these, in. truth, contributed only to 
 my knowledge, — I have gained nothing, no new claim has 
 been made on me, no new gift offered me, so I was 
 obliged to turn the interest into capital, and now I am 
 going to see what fruit the summa svmumwrwm prodnces 
 abroad. Keep this to yourself, please, for I have just re- 
 membered, that the scientific world is again about to meet 
 in Berlin, in great force. 
 
 May all good be with you ! 
 G. 
 
 244. — Goethe to Zbltbk. 
 
 Castle Dornburg, 26th July, 1828. 
 .... I BEMEMBBE well your telling me how de- 
 lighted you were with the valley of the Saale, between 
 Naumburg and Jena, and I thought of you affectionately 
 from the very first. The terraces, like a Ducal garden, 
 which expects its owner every moment, are in good order, 
 and carefully attended to, all the summer flowers showing 
 their gayest colours, and the vines hanging in such rich 
 clusters, that the sight is quite amazing. 
 
 I send you a print, which, though I cannot exactly 
 praise it, wUl at all events give yon an idea of the place, 
 more rapidly than any mere description would. The names 
 below, referring to the letters above, will give you the 
 necessary explanation. And your friend is dictating his 
 present letter, behind the windows, (so far off, that they 
 are almost invisible,) of the little castle, that stands on the 
 edge of the rock to the left ; this is the private property, 
 lately acquired by their Royal Highnesses 
 
 Tou will readily believe that during the last twenty days, 
 I have got through a good deal of work, the outcome of 
 emnui, unrest, and a feeling that work I must; unfor- 
 tunately, it is so various in kind, that the publication will 
 be no easy matter. My near hope of giving you all, the 
 continuation of Fcmst, at Michaelmas, has also been frus- 
 trated by these events. If this continuation does not point 
 to an extravagant condition of things, if too it does not 
 
 T 
 
322 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 force the reader to rise above his ordinary level, it is 
 nothing worth. As far as it has gone, I think a good head 
 will have enough to do, to master all that is hidden away 
 in it. You are the very man for this, and consequently, 
 the time before the continuation appears, will not hang too 
 heavy on your hands. 
 
 The beginning of the second Act is successful ; we will 
 say this out with all modesty, because, were it not already 
 in existence, we should not put it on paper. It now remains 
 to link it to the first Act, the invention of which is com- 
 pleted down to the last detail, and which, but for this 
 misfortune, would ere now have been ready, in a neat, 
 clean copy. This too must be left to the uncertainties of 
 time. 
 
 I can tell you thus much of the general state of feeling, 
 that the first thought of every true heart is to continue on 
 the path, marked out by the footsteps of the Departed; 
 thereby those alterations which must be made, will at any 
 rate become bearable, and in some points they may per- 
 haps deserve applause 
 
 Finally, as nothing essentially useful should be kept back 
 from you, I must tell you that my table is well attended 
 to, owing to the strange coincidence, that the Custodian 
 of the Castle, m.y present host, was formerly employed in 
 the Court kitchens, and is still able to do credit to his 
 former vocation. 
 
 " That, at all events, sounds comfortable and pleasant ! " 
 you will say, and so it would, did not the gloomy cata- 
 falque appear at the same time Lq the background, exciting 
 all those thoughts, which a man, in his cheerful moments, 
 rightly lays aside. "We might well be made dizzy by the 
 rotation of human life, and the world around us. 
 
 Therefore keep firm on your feet, as far as you can, and 
 I will endeavour to do the same. 
 
 Commending you heartily to all beneficent spirits, 
 
 Tours, 
 
 GOETES. 
 Domburg, 27tb July, 1828. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTER. 323 
 
 245. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Dornburg, 27 th July, 1828. 
 .... To turn to human affairs ! I am glad you 
 followed my advice, and directed your attention to Moliere. 
 Our dear Germans fancy they possess intellect (Oeist), only 
 •when they are paradoxical, i.e. unjust. What Schlegel 
 said about Moliere in his lectures, wounded me deeply ; * 
 I kept silence for many years, but shall now bring forward 
 one thing and another, with a view of exposing errors like 
 these, for the comfort of many, who in our own day look 
 before and after, and of many, who will do so in the 
 future. 
 
 The French themselves are not quite clear about the 
 Misanthrope ; sometimes M. is supposed to have taken his 
 model from a certain brusque courtier, sometimes to have 
 described himself. Of course, he could not but draw it 
 from his own heart, he had to delineate his own relations 
 with the world ; but what relations those were ! the most 
 universal that could possibly exist ! I would wager you 
 have caught yourself in the act of committing some folly, 
 in more than one passage. And do you not play the same 
 part towards your companions of the day ? I am old 
 enough by this time, yet hitherto I have not succeeded in 
 going so far as to set myself by the side of the Epicurean 
 gods 
 
 As above, and ever, 
 
 Yours, 
 G. 
 
 .... I wish you could tell me of an author, from 
 whom I could gain information, as to what kind of musical 
 
 * "To a man like Schlegel, a genuine nature like MollSre's is a 
 veritable eyesore ; he feels that he has nothing in common with him, he 
 cannot endure him. The Mismithrope, which I read over and over 
 again, as one of my most favourite pieces, is repugnant to him ; he is 
 forced to- praise Twrtuffe a little, but he lets him down again as much as 
 he can. Schlegel cannot forgive Moliere for ridiculing the affectation 
 of learned ladies -, he feels probably, as one of my friends has remarked, 
 that he himself would have been ridiculed, if he had lived with Moliere.'' 
 See Eckermann's Comersations of Goethe, pp. 230-231. 
 
324 qoethe's letters [1828. 
 
 system was in vogue, daring the first lialf of the seven- 
 teenth century, and how it could have been so expressed, 
 that a Hamburg Eector, of that day, (Joachim Jungius,) 
 was able to hand it down to his pupils in three printed 
 sheets ? I am just now occupied in studying that im- 
 portant epoch, to which we owe so much. 
 
 G. 
 
 246. — Zbltbb to Goethe. 
 
 4th August, 1828. 
 ToTi ask me — what kind of musical system was in 
 vogue, during the first half of the seventeenth century, and 
 how it could have been so expressed, that a Hamburg 
 Kector of that day could hand it down to his pupils in 
 three printed sheets ? In the first place — so far as I can 
 tell you, — there were many such treatises, partly copied by 
 students of music, partly dictated by teachers ; these take 
 up very little room, inasmuch as they contain only single 
 examples, or none at all. In Vienna I saw just such a 
 treatise, the work of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart ; I myself 
 have dictated several to my pupils — ^possibly Eberweiu, 
 your Musical Director, may have kept one of them. .... 
 A relic of that time, still in much requisition, containing 
 a collection of musical theories, is David Kellner's True 
 Instruction in Thorough Bass, &c., a little tract consisting of 
 less than a hundred pages, printed at Hamburg, in quarto, 
 in the year 1732 ; this has outlived several editions 
 
 Pietro della Valle, whom you know better than I do, 
 places the music of his time high above that of the fifteenth 
 and sixteenth centuries ; * the chromatic scale had been 
 smuggled in, and had given to music, character, supple- 
 ness, and freedom 
 
 The subtler iaws of harmony, by which a master in the 
 art could be recognized, were already systematized at the 
 end of the seventeenth century, although they were handed 
 down only by tradition, to certain favoured persons. The 
 product of that time appeared in a work by John Joseph 
 
 * De immcd atatis sius, in Joh. Bapt, Doni: de prceatmitid mitsica 
 oeieris libri III. FlorentieB, 1647. 
 
1828.] TO ziLTBR. 325 
 
 Fux, Oradus ad Pwrnassum, sive manuductio ad conuposiUonem 
 musicce regularem, nova ac certa nondum ante tarn exacto 
 ordine in 1/aeem, edita. In accordance with, this theory, the 
 author had for years trained his illnstrious pupil, Charles VI., 
 who became a master in the art ; and the cost of publishing 
 the work in the Latin language, in a splendid folio edition, 
 was defrayed by the Emperor, in the year 1725. The work 
 has been translated into German ; * the Latin edition is 
 getting scarce, although I possess two copies. 
 
 The work is written, as all the educational works of 
 Germany were in those days, in Question and Answer, 
 between master and pupil, and people laugh at it now for 
 that reason. The master was unwilling to appear before 
 all the world, as superior to his illustrious pupil, and calls 
 the pupil Joseph, (the author himself,) but the master, 
 Aloysius, to wit Pranestinus, whose principles are here to 
 be preserved for posterity, as being incomparable. Finally, 
 these principles are the groundwork of all great and beau- 
 tiful masterpieces of music, up to the present day ; they 
 are the manual of composition, and they leave to anyone 
 who has mastered them, plenty of elbow-room to write 
 what is beautiful correctly. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 247. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Dornburg, 9th August, 1828. 
 .... I FEEL twice as good-humoured with my old 
 friend, Joachim Jungins, for having induced you to write 
 those precious and instructive pages ; they are just what 
 I required, and something more ; just as much as I un- 
 derstand, and in addition to that, something that I dimly 
 
 feel 
 
 If we want to get only half way to the proper under- i/ 
 standing of a man, we must, before all things, study the 
 age in which he lived, perhaps completely ignoring him 
 the while ; but finding, on our return to him, that we are 
 fully satisfied with his conversation. Therefore I made it 
 
 * By Lorenz Mizler. 
 
326 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 my business, to learn, if only imperfectly, what this tho- 
 rough-going man might have dictated to his pupils, in the 
 first half of the seventeenth century. Even at a very early 
 agej he was Professor of Mathematics and Physics at 
 Giessen, and later on, the practical part of the Theory of 
 Sound could not have been a hidden or unfamiliar study 
 to him 
 
 If, as I judge,' Herr Mendelssohn practically influences 
 Dr. Kloden's actions, he might perhaps try to further my 
 wishes about the Fiirstenwalder granite. I should, above 
 all things, like to help the dear Prussians, on this side the 
 Oder and the Spree, to a solid primeval mountain, so that 
 we might not — as heretofore — have to borrow ignominiously 
 from Sweden and Norway. Pardon me ! but all these 
 things amuse me. I know very well what I want, and 
 I also know what the rest know, and how they would like 
 to impose upon themselves and others. The greatest art 
 of life, theoretical and worldly, consists in changing the 
 problem into a postulate; by doing this, we gain our end. 
 Whether your philosophers care to explain this to you, I 
 do not know ; my old Jungius, in his Logica Mamburgensi, 
 has something to say about it. 
 
 I shall not trouble myself, as to the look of my scribble 
 on paper. Glance now and again at the last tiny little 
 Castle on the left of the engraving,* and take it kindly, 
 that the friend, around whom an angry storm is raging, 
 should turn his thoughts to you 
 
 Farewell ! and in the midst of men, music, business, and 
 diversion, think of me ; take some passing moment by the 
 wing, and compel it to let me have a good letter. Write as 
 usual to Weimar, — although I have no intention yet of 
 leaving this place, for where else should I find so much to 
 look out upon and in upon ? When I look down upon the 
 slate-covered house, I think of you, my eyes resting on 
 the little window, at which you may have sat in days 
 gone by. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 G. 
 
 • See Letter 244. 
 
1828.] TO ZBLTEE. 327 
 
 248. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Doruburgj 26th August, 1828. 
 I AM asked to introduce and recommend to yon 
 Herr Chelard, Mwitre de Ohapelle de S. M. le Boi de Baviere. 
 He brings me this request from Weimar, whither he came 
 with good letters of introduction ; you will know him by 
 his works. I do not quite understand his position; in 
 Paris he wrote an Opera — Macbeth, with which he probably 
 expected to open up a new path for himself ; I fancy they 
 never allowed it to be performed there, anyhow, I have 
 never read anything about it in the Paris newspapers. 
 Enough, it was either refused, or it failed ; he took his 
 score, went off to Germany, and came to Munich, where 
 a German text was put tb it, and the work was performed 
 with great applause. The King conferred on him the above 
 title. He is now going to Berlin, probably to make ar- 
 rangements for a performance there, and if possible, to 
 double the good reputation he has gained, and re-establish 
 his celebrity in the Fatherland. He may, besides this, be 
 looking about for other advantages, derivable from German 
 music, for the furtherance of his own ends. All this you 
 will soon see through and through for yourself ; you will 
 form your own opinion about it, and kindly assist him, as 
 you think fit 
 
 I have not yet seen Hegel's portrait, as they have not 
 forwarded my boxes from Weimar. I dare say it is in 
 one of them. I never doubted that you would all like 
 Stieler's portrait of me. That excellent artist wrote about 
 it to my son. Ton must, I think, have taken to the man 
 himself. He is natural and truthful, and has developed 
 his art in the right direction 
 
 If you will bestow a few notes upon the enclosed verses, 
 I should rejoice to get them back, and see them live anew. 
 
 Alas ! I must once more revert to that desolating tem- 
 pest ; the furious storm and torrent of rain, which I drove 
 through, in coming hither, on the evening of the 20th 
 of July, was raging simultaneously from Havre de Grace 
 and Nantes, across Lyons and Weimar, as far as Vienna, 
 and who knows how much further eastwards ? The very 
 
328 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 next day, it came upon you, and thus it has continued, 
 alternating between you and us ; I should be in utter des- 
 pair, were it not that the vanity of having foretold it all 
 is somewhat refreshing. And I cannot venture to hope 
 for anything better, just' at present. The misfortune is, 
 that a high state of the barometer may — it is true — control 
 the rain for the moment, but it caim.ot clear the atmo- 
 sphere of clouds, nor rule the west wind; and thus, the 
 moment it falls, incessant storm and rain set in, in fuU 
 force. Do not quarrel with my way of expressing myself, 
 for it will show you, just how I talk to myself. Those 
 who have a professional knowledge of the weather, no 
 doubt use other terms. 
 
 Tou are an admirer of old established laws. I wiU one 
 day write down, what I think on the subject. These 
 things are too great for us, merely because we always seek 
 them, only in what is little. And so, ever in reverence for 
 the all-prevailing powers, 
 
 Tours as of old, 
 G. 
 To THE BisiNQ Full Mooif. 
 
 Dornburg, August, 1828, 
 
 Wilt thou suddenly enshroud thee, 
 
 Who this moment wert so nigh ? 
 Heary rieing masses cloud thee, 
 
 Thou art hidden from mine eye. 
 
 Tet my sadness thou well knowest. 
 
 Gleaming sweetly as a star ! 
 That I'm lov'd, 'tis thou that showest, 
 
 Though my lov'd one may be far. 
 
 Upward mount then ! clearer, milder, 
 Bob'd in splendour far more bright ! 
 
 Though my heart with grief throbs wilder, 
 Fraught with rapture is the night ! 
 
 (BOWEING.) 
 
 249. — Goethe to Zilter. 
 
 Dornburg, 7th September, 1828. 
 Tou, dearest Friend, have written often enough to 
 please me, so I, at your request, make an effort to comply 
 with your wish. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTBE. 329 
 
 When. I want to arrive at a partial explanation of the 
 extremely various and irregular phenomena of the weather, 
 I proceed thus : I assume the existence of two atmospheres, 
 a lower and an upper one ; the lower one does not extend 
 particularly high, it really belongs to the earth, and has a 
 violent tendency to carry itself and all that it contains 
 from West to East ; perhaps it may itself be obeying the 
 diurnal movement of the earth. The peculiarity of this 
 atmosphere is to generate water, especially when the baro- 
 meter is low; the mists which rise from poads, brooks, 
 rivers, and lakes, then ascend, gather into clouds, and 
 descend in rain, when the barometer falls still lower ; 
 when it is at its lowest point, raging storms are engendered. 
 
 The rise of the barometer however immediately effects 
 a counterpoise ; the wind blows from the East, the clouds 
 begin to break, to contract, to be jagged at their upper 
 ends, and gradually — in the form of mares' tails and of 
 various light strips and lines, to rise into the upper regions, 
 where, little by little, they lose themselves, so that when 
 the barometer with us stands at 28 degrees, we can no 
 longer see the smallest cloud in the sky, the east wind blows 
 fresh and briskly, and it is only the clearer blue of the sky 
 that still shows there is something overcast in the atmo- 
 sphere, and that it is extended between us and the endless 
 darkness. 
 
 What I have here stated is the pure law, eternally the 
 same, in an alternation that cannot be further defined. 
 This little bit of knowledge will enable one to judge of all 
 other variations and contiagencies, unless one allows one- 
 self to be perplexed. But it is necessary to observe the 
 following : — 
 
 I have only named imo winds, the east wind and the 
 west wind ; the north in its operation is allied to the east, 
 the south to the west wind, and thus we have two regions 
 in the sky, opposed to each other, both as regards their 
 position and their phenomena. 
 
 Let the above be borne in mind, and meanwhile assume 
 it as a rule ; then it will be easier to give some account of 
 what follows. 
 
 For the last three or four years, the lower atmosphere 
 has admitted an enormous accumulation of water, and the 
 
330 GOETHE 'S LETTBES [1828. 
 
 upper air cannot sufficiently maintain the balance. At 
 a low state of the barometer, clouds accumulate upon 
 clouds, the west wind drives tbem from the sea on to the 
 Continent, where mists enough are rising over the watered 
 surface of the earth, and clouds are forming, and con- 
 stantly being driven forward towards the east. And even 
 though the barometer should rise, and the passage towards 
 the east be checked, still the quantity of water and cloud 
 engendered, is so great, that the upper air cannot absorb 
 and disperse it. In this way, for some days past, with 
 a rise in the barometer, we have had a north wind, though 
 the sky, especially towards the south, is heavily laden, and 
 filled with masses of cloud. To the north-east, behind 
 heaps of clouds, we see the blue sky peering through, and 
 in it we trace an efEort to produce streaks and lines of 
 fleecy cloud; we may be sure that no rain will descend, 
 but the sky does not clear, and when the barometer falls 
 lower than the middle point, we have streams and torrents 
 of rain. Thus during the whole of August, the sky was 
 clouded, even if it did not rain, so our vintage, which 
 promised so well, was spoilt. The vines below, above, and 
 close to me, attached to stakes and trellises, display rich 
 clusters of swollen grapes, which however, not being 
 thoroughly penetrated with heat, cannot ripen. So of 
 what use to us is the good sense and advice of your 
 cormoisseur of vines, Kecht ? * If, according to his plan, 
 the wealth of grapes were doubled, our despair at their 
 failure would be doubled likewise. 
 
 Having, in all I say above, placed the barometer, from 
 first to last, in relation with every phenomenon, I will now, 
 in conclusion, state the main point, viz. that I ascribe that 
 elasticity, heaviness, pressure, (or whatever that may be 
 called, by which an otherwise unobservable peculiarity of 
 the atmosphere is made observable,) to the increased or 
 diminished state of the earth's power of attraction. If it 
 increases, it dominates the moisture ; if it decreases, the 
 mass of naoisture increases, and we see those effects as the 
 consequence. Now, as for some years the formation of 
 water in the lower atmosphere has been increasing, even a 
 
 * J. S. Kecht of Berlin, inventor of a new method in the cultiTation 
 of the vine. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTER. 331 
 
 high, state of the barometer can scarcely overpower it, for 
 even at 28 degrees, the sky does not become perfectly clear. 
 
 At preseint, I do not know what more to say ; for aU 
 the experiences of these last three years, to my mind 
 resolve themselves into these simple propositions. The 
 f earfnl torrents of rain on mountain heights last year, such 
 as that at the sources of the Neisse, as well as the late 
 phenomena in level districts, the hailstorm in Hanover, 
 the violent tempests in Germany, the awful rush of waters 
 on the evening of July 20th, which extended from Havre 
 de Grace and Nancy across Lyons, over Thuringia, as far 
 as Vienna, — a taste of which you may have experienced on 
 the 21st — all this, I think, I find explained by the above. 
 
 Now, if we think how — in the rapid rotation of the 
 globe — this tendency to storm and moisture sets in violently 
 from the Great Western Ocean, across England, where, 
 during this very year, agriculture has suffered from the 
 wet, we are certainly peering into an Infinity, for the pene- 
 tration of which our mental organs are perhaps unequal. 
 
 Get yourself a good barometer, hang it up near you, 
 compare its rise and fall with the physiognomy of the 
 atmosphere, with the movement of the clouds, and what- 
 ever else may strike you ; and as you do so, think of me, as 
 I am thinking of you, at this moment, now that, towards 
 noon, the sunshine is at last breaking through. The most 
 wonderful massive clouds are forming and settling on a 
 sky, here and there of a deep blue ; they are still being 
 carried about and held up by the elastic air ; were the ba- 
 rometer to sink, they would fall. Glorious in very truth, 
 and fearful, are these masses, illuminated by the sun. 
 
 Take from these general and special statements what 
 may interest and be of use to you ; I have adopted this 
 method of looking art things, for the last forty years, and 
 so I am able to be on good terms with Nature ; of course 
 everyone must know best, how to adapt his own difficulties. 
 
 Meanwhile evening has set in, so now I will bring this 
 day of storms to a close, with only a few words more. The 
 barometer kept steady, the sky cleared gradually, though 
 not entirely ; before sunset there were only a few strips of 
 cloud, hovering low on the horizon ; but over the range of 
 hills to the east, a few shining clouds, like mountains, had 
 
332 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 settled gloriously, the light and dark sides of which, nay, 
 the very cast shadows of projecting masses, indicated a 
 perfectly substantial body. The Uluminated portions ap- 
 peared yellowish red, those in the shade, blue. And as 
 they were not too high, and remained stationary for hours, 
 they looked all the more deceptively like snowy Alps. The 
 highest point at all events inight have rivalled Monte Rosa. 
 
 Dornburg, 7th September, 1828. 
 Sunday morning, at half-past five o'clock, there is a 
 perfectly unbroken, impenetrable fog, the barometer has 
 risen, the wind is in the north-east, the windows are covered 
 with moisture. Now this would be according to rule, and 
 it would promise a beautiful, happy dissipation of the mist, 
 for which spectacle I wish you could be here, as well as 
 for the bright day which will follow it, of which more 
 anon. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 And so it was too — a beautiful clear day, and by sunset, 
 the sky was perfectly free from clouds ; I drove down 
 into the valley with a friend, and crossed over the bridge 
 you know of, to the right bank. We ascended a hill be- 
 tween meadows, fields and vineyards, from which we could 
 see the Saale below us, winding up and down the valley, 
 through a fertile district. To the south, Jena was dis- 
 tinctly visible. 
 
 The whole scene was beautifully lit up. The chain of 
 Castles about Dornburg, with the buildings at the back, 
 and the town rising among the jagged masses of rock, — 
 all this in shadow really looked quite solemn and dignified ; 
 whilst we up here in the sunshine, could view our territory 
 to the right and left. 
 
 Monday, 8th September, 1828. 
 
 The barometer has gone up to 27" 8'" degrees ; at six 
 o'clock this morning, the fog was as thick as it was yes- 
 terday, yet we are sure to have a fine day, of which more 
 by-and-bye. 
 
 And so the barometer has to-day uttered an emphatic 
 
1828.] TO ZELTEB. 333 
 
 quos ego. It was just striking nine, the atmospliere had 
 become perfectly clear, and the objects in the valley were 
 peeping out from behind a faint mist. As everywhere else, 
 so too it is in the World's history ; as soon as Charles 
 Martel appeared, the chaos which had enveloped Gaul and 
 the rest of the world, disappeared. Happily Pepin and 
 Charlemagne follow, but then again a long period of chaos. 
 
 Thursday, Uth September, 1828. 
 .... I drove back to Weimar, and thus my uninter- 
 rupted view , came to an end at the same time with my 
 contemplation of the heavens. Business had to be de- 
 spatched, whatever the weather might be ; the barometer 
 moved up and down, the weather changed likewise, and 
 there was nothing further to be said about it : — 
 
 For with the heavenly bill of fare, 
 The same old trumpery's always there. 
 
 .... As I am anxious to send off these pages to-day, 
 and am prevented from filling them, though unwilling to 
 leave them empty, I am going to have copied out for you, 
 the contents of some leaflets, countless numbers of which 
 are lying before me. I should like to classify them. 
 Meanwhile take them unclassified, as they come into the 
 vmter's hands. 
 
 In the history of natural science one invariably remarks, 
 that investigators hurry too quickly from the phenomenon 
 to the theory, and thus become inadequate, hypothetical. 
 
 There is a delicate kind of empiricism, which identifies 
 itself most intimately with the subject, and thereby becomes 
 actual theory. This heightening of the intellectual faculty 
 however, belongs to a highly cultivated age. 
 
 The most objectionable people are the quibbling in- 
 vestigators and the crotchety theorists ; their endeavours 
 are petty and complicated, their hypotheses abstruse and 
 strange. Worthy Wiinsch was one of this sort. Minds like 
 his are easily satisfied with mere words, and they hinder 
 the advance of science, for in point of fact one has to 
 
334 gobthe's letters [1828. 
 
 make after-experiments, and to clear np what they have 
 obscured. Now, as there are not many, whose basiness it 
 is to do this, the matter is allowed to rest, and some de- 
 gree of valne is ascribed to their endeavours, though no one 
 is to blame for it. 
 
 "Whole, haK-, and quarter-mistakes are very difficult and 
 troublesome to correct, and to sift, and it is hard to set 
 what is true in them in its proper place. 
 
 It is not always necessary, that truth should be em- 
 bodied, it is sufficient, if it hovers about in the spirit, 
 producing harmony ; if — ^like the chime of bells — it vibrates 
 through the air, solemnly and kindly. 
 
 When one considers the problems of Aristotle, one is 
 astonished at his gift of observation, and at all that the 
 Greeks had an eye for ; only they err in being over-hasty, 
 for they go directly from the phenomenon to the explanation, 
 thereby producing very inadequate theoretical conclusions. 
 This however is a general mistake, that is still made, even 
 in our own day. 
 
 y In reality we only know, when we know a little ; as we 
 learn more, doubt gradually sets in. 
 
 No phenomenon can be explained by itself and of itself ; 
 only a number of them, when viewed collectively, and 
 arranged methodically, end by yielding something that may 
 pass for theory. 
 
 And yet Natural Science is as much in need of a cate- 
 gorical imperative as Moral Science, — only let it be borne 
 in mind, that this does not bring us to the end, but merely 
 to the beginning. 
 
 Tours ever, 
 G. 
 
 Weimar, 5th October, 1828. 
 
 (Forgive this more thati casual communication.) 
 
1828.] TO ZELTBE. 335 
 
 260. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 igth October, 1828. 
 .... Testeedat evening I went in a fit of despair 
 to the Theatre — Fredosa. The story is illustrated by dance 
 and choral music, with Recitatives spoken to music, so 
 that you understand neither the one nor the other — they 
 call it Melodrama, and it is described on the play-bill as 
 Schauspiel mit Gesang, (a play with incidental music,) 
 which means neither one thing nor the other, through four 
 short Acts ; even these are much too long, as really there 
 is no action, and everyone is bored. The actors do not 
 understand themselves, why they are all turned out so 
 smairtly ; one is always waiting for the other to do some- 
 thing. The composer has taken the greatest pains, by 
 strange modulation and all kinds of tempi, to produce a 
 gloomily humouristic work, characteristic of a gipsy mob. 
 The people in the Theatre and Ordiestra do not know 
 what they are listening to, nor what they are playing, and 
 the public sits as quiet as a Church mouse, until it is all 
 over. 
 
 A pretty stranger appeared for the first time as Preciosa. 
 She is said to be her Prince's intimate friend. Who would 
 like to see the object of his afEeotions on the street like 
 that ? Were she mine, she should stay properly at home. 
 
 It now occurs to me for the first time, that poet and 
 composer are no longer alive. De mortuis nil. I dare say 
 you see what kind of humour I am in. Fling away my 
 letter, and f orgfive 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 251. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 30th October, 1828. 
 
 .... As you cannot be rid of the Theatre, get as 
 much pleasure out of it as you can ; but do not modify 
 your criticism. Of what use is all the splendour of days 
 gone by, if the nullity of the present is to be allowed to 
 obtrude itself, simply because for the moment, it enjoys the 
 privilege of being present and alive ? 
 
336 Goethe's letters [1828. 
 
 That worthy fellow, Oehlenschlager,* has given me per- 
 sonally a great deal of worry ; he persisted, on his return 
 from Italy, in wanting me to let him read aloud that same 
 Oorreggio; this I obstinately declined, but offered to look 
 at the play quietly by myself, whereupon he flew into such 
 a passion, that at last he behaved quite like a madman. 
 Indeed I have had to put up with a great deal from this 
 brood. 
 
 He is one of those halves, that think themselves a com- 
 plete whole, and something more. These sons of the North 
 go to Italy, they get no further than to prop their bear 
 upon his hind legs, and when he learns to dance a bit, then 
 they think it is all right 
 
 There are some Tyrolese here again, and I mean to get 
 them to sing me their little songs, although I cannot stand 
 their beloved Jodebn, except in the open air or in large 
 rooms 
 
 I have enjoyed some excellent talk with the returning 
 Ifaturalists.f But when carefully considered, it wiU ever 
 remain an established truth, that what I know well, I in 
 reality know only for myself ; as soon as I come out with 
 it, conditions, definitions, and contradictions are imme- 
 diately thrust upon me. This happens to you oftener than 
 to me, as you come into contact, and have dealings with 
 all sorts of people ; and yet I am as certain to meet with 
 opposition in my own house, as if I looked for it in the 
 market-place. The safest plan is always to endeavour to 
 change all that is in us and of us into action; then let 
 others speak of it and treat it just as it pleases them. 
 
 G. 
 
 252. — Zeltbk to Goethe. 
 
 14th NoTember, 1828. 
 
 Yesterday evening, we treated the public to Han- 
 del's Samson We had just heard the sorrowful news 
 
 of the death of the Dowager Empress of Russia ; it was 
 
 * Author of Coireggio, a Tragedy. Zelter had witnessed a per- 
 formance of it in Berlin ; Emil Devrient acted the part of the hero, 
 
 f There was a meeting of scientific men at Berlin in 1828, many of 
 whom paid Goethe a visit on their way home. 
 
1828.] TO ZELTER. 337 
 
 a double loss to us, for the King sent an excuse. In 
 other respects, we had an attentive and grateful audience. 
 The Duke of Cumberland, who, as a rule, invariably com- 
 plains of our having no organ, on this occasion declared 
 himself fully satisfied. 
 
 Handel, who was a distinguished organist, wrote no 
 organ-part for any of his Oratorios, though he looked after 
 the Chorus most assiduously and artistically. Were he 
 still alive, he must have said, " With such a Chorus as 
 that, I will have no organ ! " Even if he. did not say it, 
 he carried it out in practice. An organ may be necessary, 
 either to veil, or to fill up the weakness of a Chorus. On 
 the other hand, played neither wisely nor well, it may 
 weaken and spoil the best choir.. I was obliged to say 
 as much to Cramer, the English king's Ca^ellmeister, 
 who was here a short time ago, for I know how it 
 fared with the Choirs, throughout England, from the 
 best source, (Handel himself,) and it is just the same 
 now. Those people might confound us, but that we are 
 old hands. If they are in love with themselves and their 
 pit-coal, who shall blame us for loving what it is in our 
 power to have ? What business have they to talk about 
 Handel ? 
 
 Our knight, Spontini, was full of admiration, and said, 
 " Laissez-moi vos choeurs." Youth and beauty of every 
 rank, disciplined, brought into order, and properly balanced, 
 ought, it is true, to make an impression upon anyone, 
 unless like me, he has had for years past to work from the 
 centre of the organization outwards, and, all through the 
 varying seasons of success and failure, to go on unweariedly 
 accumulating fresh stores. 
 
 The cost of training the Choruses of the Theatre Royal 
 amounts yearly to six thousand Thalers ; for that sum they 
 ought to be better, if the teachers realized even their most 
 elementary duties. Many of the Chorus do not know their 
 notes, and are tortured into them by a violin, badly played. 
 Oit/r Choruses are sung by all, a prima vista, and the most 
 difficult music often goes as well as possible at the third 
 rehearsal, for they pull themselves together, and talking is 
 not the fashion. The late King of Saxony was the first 
 and last, who spoke to me on the subject, like a man who 
 
 z 
 
338 goithe's lettees [1828. 
 
 understood it, — and he gave me the loveliest gold snufE- 
 box. Farewell, and think of 
 
 Thy 
 Z. 
 
 253. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 16th December, 1828. 
 
 Enclosed herewith, you have at last a transcript of 
 the worthy Jungius' Harmonie ; it was difficult enough to 
 get this done, — a translation, such as you wished, could not 
 be managed. Amongst your musical friends and pupils, 
 there is sure to be someone, who understands Latin, and 
 who would go through the work with you ; afterwards, I 
 should like to have your full opinion of it, for I am anxious 
 to raise a solid memorial to that worthy man. 
 
 I enclose a transcript of the letter you despatched at my 
 request ; what you say refers more particularly to the close 
 of the seventeenth, and the beginning of the eighteenth 
 century ; but with regard to the state of music in 1660, 
 the most reliable information is probably to be got from 
 the pamphlet in question, for though the man was a tho- 
 rough mathematician and logician, he bad of his own 
 free will devoted himself to animated nature, and had 
 issued works in advance of his time. As to the varied 
 interests it awakened in me, you must remember that he 
 was a contemporary of Lord Bacon, Descartes, and Galileo, 
 and yet he managed to keep himself perfectly original, both 
 in his studies and his teaching. You will pardon this new 
 exaction ! All good attend you ! 
 
 Most truly yours, 
 
 G. 
 
 254. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 22nd December, 1828. 
 .... You did well not to spare my idle modesty ; 
 I can read the work pretty fairly off-hand. As the con- 
 tents are musical, I could spell out what is problematical 
 in it more easily than many a Latin scholar could put it 
 into German for me ; for many a mistake has arisen from 
 
1828.] TO ZILTBE. 339 
 
 the Germanizing of Greek and Latin terms of Art. The 
 fundamental principles of Harmony, here laid down, were 
 carried ont in practice by Hans Leo Hassler,* Falestrina, 
 and others, as early as . the beginning of the sixteenth 
 century, and they still hold their ground, though the most 
 modern theorists would fain persuade us, that it is all quite 
 different now. This is so little the case, that even the old 
 mistaken definitions, quite as mistakenly Germanized, pass 
 muster, e.g. Soni dissord sunt, guorwm mixtwra oAiditwi mgrata 
 est — which to this day still runs : A d/issonance is a eaeo- 
 phony. But a dissonance, (if you do not mean by that 
 something absolutely unmusical,) is no cacophony. As 
 well in its origin as in its resolution, it is — more correctly 
 speaking — consonant, and it does duty for the harmony, 
 into which it must resolve itself. Similarly, dur and moU 
 are neither hard nor soft, yet everyone knows what is 
 meant by the terms, so long as people do not translate them 
 into German. 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 * A pupil of the famous Gabrieli, Proske, speaking of his style, 
 says that he " imitates all the greatest beauty and dignity that can be 
 found in both the Italian and German art of that day. The well-known 
 chorale, Herzlich that mich Verlangen or Befiehl du deine Wege, so much 
 used by Bach in the Passion, was originally a love song, Mem Gemuth 
 ist mir verwirret, in his lAixtgmten dmtsoher Gesdnge (1601)," 
 
340 gobthd's letters [1829. 
 
 1829. 
 
 255.— GoBTHE TO Zeltxb. 
 
 Weimar, 2nd Jannary, 1829. 
 
 .... My mother used to say, when she was overran 
 with visitors, " I could not get time to blow my nose " — 
 I am glad to think of yon in a similar predicament 
 
 I could not possibly spare Herr Kruger even a few hours, 
 though he deserved it, for I am deeply indebted to him 
 for his portrait of Prince William. But no one can under- 
 stand how I value a succession of hours, for the interrupted 
 ones are, in my opinion, not only completely lost, but 
 hurtful and disturbing into the bargain. It is the same 
 with strangers, who do not understand what I am robbed 
 of, just by an interruption. 
 
 And yet it is always disagreeable to me, when, in self- 
 defence, I am obliged to refuse to see people, who have 
 come from, a distance. 
 
 You might complain much in the same way, but as a 
 musician, you are forced to keep up with the world; of 
 me the world ha& nothing, except what it can see in black 
 and white. 
 
 When I have properly equipped my Wanderers,* and 
 sent them ofE, you light-minded people may receive them 
 as you can ; I, however, shall at once turn to Nature, and 
 first of all, I shall try to further a French translation of 
 my Metwmorphose der Ffla/mzen, f with some additions. My 
 two m.onths' stay in Domburg revived and encouraged my 
 old reflections, most agreeably. 
 
 I must now really try and see, day by day, hour by hour, 
 what can be done to make good the foundation of our 
 principles, and practically to fortify it. There are some very 
 clever youngsters, but every Tom-fool wants to begin from 
 
 • An allusion to WUhebn Meisiet's Wanderjahre. 
 ■|- The French translation was made by Soret, 
 
1829.] TO ZELTER. 841 
 
 the very beginning, to be independent, original, absolute, 
 self-sufficient, to keep apart from others, to look straight 
 ahead, and whatever else you may choose to call all those 
 follies. I have been watching this course of things, since 
 the year 1789, and I know what might have happened, had 
 any one man cut straight in, without reserving a pecuHwm 
 for himself. Now, in 1829, it is my duty to become clear 
 about what lies before me, and perhaps to give it expression, 
 but even if I succeed in this, it will do no good, for truth. 
 is simple, and g^iyes little trouble, but falsehood gives 
 occasion for the frittering away of time and strength. 
 
 And now, accept what I have dictated for you in the 
 solitary hour that I have gained, and give me an oppor- 
 tunity of being edified again by one of your welcome 
 letters. 
 
 Yours unalterably, 
 
 J. W. V. GOBTHB. 
 
 256. — G-oiiTHE TO Zelteb. 
 
 Weimar, 6th January, 1829. 
 
 CANZONETTA NUOVA 
 
 topra la Madonna, guando si port!) in Egitto col bambino 
 
 GesU e San CHuaeppe* 
 
 ZiNOAKELLA. 
 
 Dio ti salvi, bella Signora, 
 £ ti dia buona rentura ! 
 Ben venuto, vecchiarello. 
 Con questo bambino bello I 
 
 Madonna. 
 
 Ben trorata, surella mia I 
 La sua grazia Die ti dia ; 
 Ti perdoni i tuoi peccati 
 li'infinita sua bontade. 
 
 * See Egeria. Baccolta di Foesie Italiane popolari, cominciata da 
 Guglielmo Mueller e pubblicata da O. L. B. Wolffi Lipsia, 1829, p. 73. 
 
342 Goethe's letters [1829. 
 
 Siete stanohi e meschini, 
 Credo, poveri pellegrini, 
 Che cercate d'alloggiare. 
 Vuoi, Signora, scavalcare ? 
 
 MXVONNA, 
 
 Voi, che siete, sorella mia, 
 Tutta plena di cortesia, 
 Dio vi renda la caritk 
 Per I'infinita sua bontk ! 
 
 ZlNOARELLA, 
 
 Son'una donna zingarella ; 
 BenchA sono porerella, 
 Ti o£ferisco la casa mia, 
 Benche non 6 cosa per tia. 
 
 Madonna. 
 
 Sia per me Dio lodato, 
 E da tutti ringraziato ! 
 Sorella, le Tostre parole 
 Mi consolano il mio cuore. 
 
 ZlNQABELLA. 
 
 Or scavalca, Signora mia 5 
 Hai una faccia d'una Dia, 
 Ch'io terrb la creatiira, 
 Che sto core m'innamora. 
 
 Madonna. 
 
 Noi veniam da Nazaretto ; 
 Siamo senza alcnn ricetto, 
 ArriTati alia strania, 
 Stanchi e lassi dalla via. 
 
 Zingarella. 
 
 Aggio qua una stallella 
 Buona per sta somarella ; 
 Paglia e fieno ce ne getto, 
 Vi h per tutti lo ricetto. 
 
 Se non h come meritatc, 
 Signorucoia, perdonate ; 
 Come posso io meschina 
 Ricettare una regiua ? 
 
1829.] TO ZBLTEB. 343 
 
 E tu, vecchiarello, siedi, 
 Sei venuto sempre a piedi ; 
 Avete fatto, oh bella figlia, 
 Da trecento e tante miglia. 
 
 Oh ch'e bello sto figliarello, 
 Che par fatto ool pennellu ! 
 Non ci so dare assomiglio ; 
 Bella madre e bello figlio. 
 
 Hai presenza di regina; 
 Lo mio core I'indovina, 
 Questo figlio A il tuo sposo ; 
 Troppo e bello e grazioso. 
 
 Se ti piace, oh mia Signora, 
 
 'Findovino la ventura. 
 
 Noi, Signora, cosi sino 
 
 Facciam sempre I'indovino, etc. etc. 
 
 The gipsy then modestly goes on to relate to the Virgin, 
 what has happened since the Annunciation, and what will 
 happen in the future. All this in rhymes so graceful, that 
 you could not ask for better from a legend. It is thus 
 that Italian children and women sing at their ease an 
 artless harmony of the four Evangelists, and strengthen in 
 their minds the Christian faith. 
 
 Anyone who recollects with pleasure the Gonversation 
 between Christ amd the Woman of Samaria,* (which I pub- 
 lished many years ago,) will be none the less delighted 
 with this parallel. 
 
 I hope this poem, and the enclosed extract will divert you 
 somewhat, until I get the better of my present, overworked 
 condition, and am able to answer your friendly letters with 
 
 something more than superficial words 
 
 In haste, yours truly, 
 G. 
 
 Enclosure. , 
 
 On the Performance of Faust at the Theatre de la Porte 
 St. Martm, m Paris, 8th of November, 1828. 
 
 " It is Goethe's Faust ; it is Gretchen, Mephistopheles, 
 Martha, but travestied, materialized, confined to earth and 
 hell, — all the spiritual part is effaced. We have every 
 
 * See Ueber Italien, a part of Die Italidnische Seise. 
 
344 Goethe's letters [1829. 
 
 scene in the original, but all at cross purposes — the walk 
 in the garden, the flaming wine, (though this is in a village 
 alehouse,) the prison, the scene with the witches, even the 
 Blocksberg. The arrival of Gretohen, the laugh of Me- 
 phistopheles, are true to Retsch's outlines. He has retained 
 the laugh, but it is a wild, scoffing laugh, in everything 
 else he is a Catholic devil. Faust's compact becomes valid 
 at the first crime. Gretohen does not murder her child, 
 but she poisons her mother with a sleeping draught, which 
 Faust hands her, to secure a rendez-vous, when the devil 
 increases the dose. For this, she is put upon the rack, and 
 after she has been brought back, we see her cowering in 
 horror, on her bed of straw, tearing at her chains, and 
 pointing, mad with agony, to her wounds. Martha dis- 
 guises herself, and comes to save her ; Faust enters, fails 
 to recognize her, and strikes at her. So passes the interval ; 
 Gretohen might but will not fly, and the executioner comes 
 to fetch her. We have already seen the scaffold outside, 
 and the crowd awaiting her. Scarcely has she come out, 
 when a cloud descends, and as it rises again, we see Paradise 
 above, in Bengal lights, Gretohen among the gods, kneeling 
 at the feet of the Virgin, and Faust among the devils and 
 the flames, in the usual style. AU this allows of more than 
 twenty diJEEerent scenic decorations, many of which are 
 brilliant surprises. The journals and daily papers have 
 taken offence at it ; even at this, the fourth representation, 
 I heard a few pious hisses. However, the piece will pay 
 its expenses. The common people will not fijad it wanting 
 in interest ; the contrast is what interested me. 
 
 "As Gb'etchen is kneeling before the image of the Virgin, 
 the devil rises out of the earth, upon an enormous pedestal, 
 formed of monsters and serpents, and thunders down his 
 curses upon her, from this height; this is the way the 
 people of Paris theatricalize the evil spirit, whispering into 
 the ear ! I must also mention a waltz, danced by Mephis- 
 topheles and Martha, which is really ingenious. The devil 
 has her wholly in his power, as a magnetizer has the person 
 who is being magnetized ; with horrible energy she follows 
 his gesticulations, her expression changing quickly from 
 the coarsest, most abandoned sensuality, to an agony of 
 pain and terror." 
 
1829.] TO ZELTEE. 345 
 
 257. — Goethe to Zblter. 
 
 Weimar, 18th January, 1829. 
 
 After Easter, my readers will be good enough to 
 make a walking- tour in the high Alpine valleys, with the 
 familiar Wwnderers^ (who will appear at that opportune 
 season,) and there content themselves awhile, amongst the 
 spinners and weavers. In case you like to prepare before- 
 hand, listen to what follows. 
 
 A thoughtful and discerning friend, who undertook the 
 business of looking over my manuscript, before it was sent 
 to press, returned it to me with the following remarks : — 
 
 " It is pleasant to find oneself in the spinning-rooms of 
 those simple, honest, mountain folk. Tour description of 
 these last in particular was doubly interesting to me, for I 
 must confess that in former days I knew nothing more 
 wretched, than the life of weavers and spinners in towns, 
 and it was only on my last journey, that I had a very 
 diSerent experience, in the family life of an honest Swiss, 
 at Leuk. I have observed that these weavers know how to 
 express themselves better than other artisans, and I stUl 
 remember my conversation with them. When I confessed 
 my surprise, that with so large a family, — (four children 
 were spinning beside their mother,) — he could live in so 
 small a room, he answered quite cordially, 'And what will 
 you say, when you hear that in addition to the weaver, 
 two other labourers, a shoemaker, and a porkbutcher, live 
 in this same nest, and that they all sleep in the same bed, 
 and sit on the same chair ? I am myself this Trinity, so 
 you can understand, that we all get on very well together 
 here, as I myself set so good an example.' " 
 
 I send the above to amuse you beforehand, asking you 
 to keep the scene in your mind, when your friends, the 
 Wanderers, introduce you to those regions. 
 
 At the same time, accept my best thanks for the kind 
 reception you gave to my Holy Family in Egypt, f and 
 their hostess. I own that when reading this and similar 
 poems, I feel as if I were eating sweets, biscuits or the like ; 
 
 * See Note to Letter 255. 
 
 t See the Italian poem, Letter 256. 
 
346 Goethe's letters [1829. 
 
 food I admit, but a daihty morsel, such as women and 
 children may find very toothsome in their native land. 
 As a rule, Italian children have something inconceivably 
 gentle, attractive, and graceful about them, -which is in 
 perfect harmony with this song. 
 
 A truce to these reflections, and let me beg you to tell 
 me faithfully about Holtei's Fanist* as he appears to such a 
 kindly disposed and well-meaning friend as you are. , I 
 no longer recognize my old theatrical friend in the news- 
 paper ; at one time it is all forbearance and hesitation, at 
 another, enthusiasm got up to order. 
 
 "As it is constituted, so will it abide," says BeineJce 
 Fuchs. 
 
 To fill up the remaining space, let me tell you, that I 
 have been presented with the portrait of a famous Frascate 
 beauty ; standing before her, one feels as though one were 
 in the beneficent sunshine. 
 
 Yet it is somewhat strange ! These regular features, 
 this perfect health, this intensely self-complacent cheerful- 
 ness, has something offensive about it to us poor cripples 
 of the North, and we can understand, why our works of 
 art are sickly, because otherwise no one would look at them. 
 
 A few days ago, a very well-painted jEcce Homo stood in 
 this place ; everyone who looks at that will feel comfortable 
 and at his ease, because he sees before him someone who 
 is worse ofE than himself. Space compels me to fi.nish at 
 the right time ; so be it ever ! 
 
 G. 
 
 258. — ZiLTBB TO Goethe. 
 
 24th January, 1829. 
 As, in your letter of the 18th of January, you talk 
 of the pictures you have been lucky enough to get, I want 
 to tell you, that Temite made me a similar present on 
 my birthday. It is a likeness of the botanist, J. TJsteri. 
 .... To me, the special charm lies in its exquisite re- 
 semblance to the face and figure of our Sebastian Bach, 
 in his modest, grey-green cloth coat. I think I never yet 
 
 * See Note to Letter 236. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTEE. 347 
 
 saw flesh and blood of the same colour. It reminds me of 
 the following story. 
 
 Kirnberger had jnst such a portrait of his master, Se- 
 bastian Bach ; it was my constant admiration, and it hung 
 in his room, between two windows, on the wall above the 
 piano. A well-to-do Leipzig liaendraper, who had formerly 
 seen Kirnberger, when he was a chorister at the Thomas- 
 Schule, singing in a procession before his father's door, 
 comes to Berlin, and it occurs to him, to honour the now 
 celebrated Kirnberger with a visit. Hardly were they seated, 
 when the Leipziger bawls out, " Why, good Lord ! you've 
 actually got our Cantor, Bach, hanging there ; we have 
 him too in Leipzig, at the Thomas- Schule. They say he 
 was a rough fellow ; why, the conceited fool did not even 
 have himself painted in a smart velvet coat." Kirnberger 
 gets up quietly, goes behind his chair, and lifting it up 
 with both hands in the guest's face, exclaims, first gently, 
 then crescendo, " Out, you dog ! Out, you dog ! " My Leip- 
 ziger, mortally frightened, seizes his hat and stick, makes 
 with all haste for the door, and bolts out into the street. 
 Upon this, Kirnberger has the picture taken down and 
 rubbed, the Philistine's chair washed, and the portrait, 
 covered with a cloth, restored to its old place. When 
 someone inquired, what was the meaning of the cloth ? he 
 answered, " Leave that alone ! There's something behind 
 it." This story was the origin of the report, that Kirn- 
 bersfer had lost his senses. 
 
 269. — Goethe to Zelteb. 
 
 Weimar, 26th January, 1829. 
 I WAS very much pleased to hes^ of your invitation 
 to the Mitterfest, and it enhanced my satisfaction to find 
 that you were No. 17 in the newspaper, and in such ex- 
 cellent company ; now you yourself will give me the details, 
 as between friend and friend. 
 
 Anything that lifts a man out of the common herd, 
 always redounds to his advantage, even if it sinks him 
 into a new crowd, in the midst of which his powers of 
 swimming and wading must be put to the test again. 
 
348 Goethe's lettbes [1829. 
 
 These marks of honour are really nothing bnt magnified 
 encumbrances, upon which, notwithstanding, we must con- 
 gratulate ourselves and others, because life — if it goes 
 well — should ever be considered as a perpetual fight and 
 a perpetual conquest. 
 
 Forgive these abstruse words, but I do not know how 
 else to express myself ; for in proportion as I think I un- 
 derstand myself better and better, I seem to become obscure 
 to others. But you are such a queer fish, that nothing of 
 
 that sort can fail to explain itself to you 
 
 J. W. T. Goethe. 
 
 260. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 12th February, 1829. 
 
 .... I THINK I understand your complaints, or 
 rather invectives against inadequate performances of music, 
 prepared long beforehand. The tendency of the day to 
 drag down everything, and make it weak and whining, is 
 ever more and more prevalent. I could show you half a 
 dozen poems, that have been written in my praise and 
 honour, but in which I am actually treated as already one 
 of the blest departed. It will end, according to the latest 
 system of philosophy, in everything crumbling into Nothing, 
 
 ere it has yet begun to be 
 
 Now and then, by the wise management of our reigning 
 Grand Duchess, I am called upon to attend to one or other 
 piece of business, that may stiU be in keeping with my years 
 and strength. 
 
 After as before, thy 
 Goethe. 
 
 261. — Zbltee TO Goethe. 
 
 14th February, 1829. 
 
 .... Testeedat, for the first time, I heard Auber's 
 
 Muette von Portici. One may look upon the work as the 
 
 beginning of a new genre, for it is neither an Opera proper, 
 
 nor a Flay, bnt a true Melodrama, only sung, instead of 
 
1829.] ' TO ZELTBE. 349 
 
 spoken. It is not inconsistent, and the interest is sufla.ciently 
 sustained throughout the five Acts to give them real unity. 
 Scribe's text is nothing particular. The leading character, a 
 !N'eapolitan fisherwoman, has been seduced by the son of the 
 Viceroy, who forthwith gets married to a Royal Princess. 
 But why, and from what cause the lady is dumb, never 
 appears. Running through all this, is a conspiracy of the 
 Neapolitans against the Viceroy, who is inveighed against 
 as a tyrant. The mounting of the piece is regal. Whoever 
 has not seen Vesuvius in full action on the spot, let him 
 come to Naples-Berlin, and we will show him a thing or 
 two. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 262. — GoKTHB TO Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 4th March, 1829. 
 It is really for such old fellows as you, dearest Friend, 
 that I have had the Schiller Correspondence printed now ; 
 the ^orld of the present and the future, may make what 
 they can of it. For them it is completely historical, and 
 even so, it will be wholesome and serviceable to many 
 intelligent readers; but to those who were living and 
 working in those days, it will serve as a fuller and more 
 convenient reference, should they wish to strike the balance 
 of their lives. 
 
 But as a rule, it will interest every thoughtful person to 
 look into the game, and see how the cards were dealt in 
 those days, and with what various luck, skill, and ingenuity, 
 every undertaking was carried on 
 
 The exaggerations which are forced upon the Theatres of 
 great, far-reaching Paris, injure us as well, for we have not 
 got nearly far enough, to feel the want of them. But 
 these are the consequences of the onward march of uni- 
 versal literature, and the only one comfort to be derived 
 from it is, that even though the world in general is the 
 worse for it, individuals are sure to reap the benefit; I 
 have known very brilliant instances of this. For after all, 
 what is truly rational and satisfactory is the inheritance of 
 a few individuals, who work on quietly 
 
360 gobthb's lettbes [1829. 
 
 That very amusing anecdote of yours, about the servant,* 
 who could not master the fact, that hot and cold water 
 mixed produce tepid water, comes at the nick of time. It 
 is rather like the Irish bulls, which are the result of a 
 strange awkwardness of mind, and about which a good 
 deal might be said from a physiological point of view. 
 Here is one : — An Irishman is lying in bed ; people rush in 
 and call out, " Save yourself ! the house is on fire ! " 
 " How so ? " answers he, " sure, I am only a lodger here ! " 
 If you remember any others of a similar kind, or could tell 
 me where'to find them, you would be doing me a favour. 
 I would let you know what I think about them. 
 
 The study of meteorological science, like so many other 
 things, only issues in despair. The first lines of Fcmst 
 are perfectly applicable here too. However, for the pro- 
 tection of truth, I must add, that he who does not ask for 
 more than what is granted to man, will herein also be well 
 rewarded for the pains he has taken. But it is not every 
 man's way to be content. Here, as everywhere, people 
 feel vexed at not obtaining what they want and expect, 
 and then they fancy they have not received anything at 
 all. For instance, you must, first of all, renounce fore- 
 knowledge and prophecy, and whom could we expect to 
 do this P . . . . 
 
 Tours ever, 
 
 G. 
 
 263. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 9th March, 1829. 
 
 .... Your Irish BuU is worth as much as my 
 
 story ; I knew it partly in another form, though it is best 
 
 as you have it. Passing into heroics, let me tell you 
 
 the following: — Once, during the Carnival here, in the 
 
 * The passage referred to runs thus : " I knevtr Levin Markus, the 
 father of Frau von Varnhagen, very well, as a humourist. On the 
 day of his death, the cunning old fellow ordered his servant to bring 
 him some vtater to vrash in, and found fault with him, because it was 
 as cold as ice, whereupon the servant fetched boiling water. ' You ox, 
 am I a pig then, that you want to scald ? ' Back came the servant 
 again. ' Not a drop of tepid water to be had, in the whole house ! ' 
 L. M, gave a loud laugh, and expired," 
 
1829.] TO ZBLTER. 351 
 
 muddle of January, the lightning struck the King's Castle, 
 and set it on fire. The hussar on guard rushes into Fre- 
 derick the Great's Cabinet, " Tour Majesty, it has come 
 in. The Castle is on fire ! " " Be off, and see that the 
 staircase remains clear ; I am busy," says Frederick. 
 
 One day, a drummer, who thought his honour insulted 
 by the Kiag, shot himself at the very door of the King's 
 cabinet. " Bury him well ! " said Frederick, " why was 
 he only a drum.mer ?".... 
 
 You will already haye seen from the paper, that we are 
 going to perform The Passion Music of J. S. Bach. Felix 
 has studied it under m.e, and is going to conduct it, so I 
 give up my desk to him. One of these days I wUl send 
 you the text, to which I have written a preface. FeUx, 
 owing to his friend Moscheles, has been invited to London, 
 whence he may subsequently go to Italy. The lad is a joy 
 to me, and it is good for him to get away from the parental 
 roof. All that he wants intellectually, he takes with him, 
 and I hope soon to hear more of him. Vale J 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 264. — Zbltbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 12th March, 1829. 
 OuE Bach music came off successfully yesterday, 
 and Felix, without any fuss, held his forces well in hand. 
 The King and the entire Court saw a closely packed house 
 before them ; I, with my score, posted myself in a small 
 comer near the Orchestra, whence I could survey my little 
 people and the public at the same time. About the work 
 
 itself, I scarcely know what to say Were it not that 
 
 here and there a resemblance in melody to the more modern 
 German operatic composers, such as Gluck and Mozart, 
 reveals itself, bringing us back again for a moment to our 
 own time, we should feel ourselves between heaven and 
 earth, and thirty years older into the bargain. And it may 
 be this, which makes the music in general scarcely prac- 
 ticable. But would that old Bach could have heard our 
 performance ! That was my feeling at every successful 
 passage, and here I cannot but praise highly the wh'jle 
 
352 goethb's lettees [1829. 
 
 body of my pupils at the Smgakademie, as well as the 
 Solo Singers, and the double Orchestra. You might say 
 that the whole was an organ, in which every pipe was gifted 
 with reason, power, and will, — nothing forced, no man- 
 nerism. There is no Duet, no Fugue, no beginning, no 
 end, and yet all is as one, and everything in its place. A 
 wonderful dramatic truth is followed out ; one hears the 
 False Witnesses, i.e. one sees them step forth ; one sees the 
 High Priests with their " What is that to us, &e. It is 
 the price of blood ; " and the twrha, " Not on the feast-day, 
 &c.," and the disciples, true, honourable followers, Mtes, 
 " For what purpose was this waste ? " They seem to be 
 the very tones, which we knew not hitherto, but are now 
 compelled to recognize. Then, after a while, the heartfelt 
 lament for the glorious Son of Man, the Frieiid, the Coun- 
 cillor, the Helper, the Judge, &c Stumer of the 
 
 Theatre Royal, one of my former pupils, sang the narrative 
 part so admirably, (especially at the performance,) that 
 you heard the repetition of the Gospel words with delight. 
 Before the performance, I had advised him not to hinder 
 the progress of the story by sentimentality, and he did it 
 as well as it could be done. 
 
 " Now, ye Muses, enough ! " Farewell, and " Know me, 
 my Shepherd ! " 
 
 265. — Zeltie to Goethe. 
 
 (Undated.) 
 In compliance with a universal request, we have 
 repeated the Passion Music before a full house. The old 
 audience returned, and a new one came besides. The cri- 
 ticisms are tolerably different ; and amongst many, one only 
 shall be named, who has the right to judge, — a right as 
 great as that of any other, and greater. Philosophers, who 
 divide the Real from the Ideal, and throw away the tree, in 
 order to recognize the fruit, are to us musicians, as we are 
 with regard to their philosophy, of which we understand 
 nothing, farther than that we bring before their very door, 
 the treasure which we have found. Hegel for instance! 
 He is just now lecturing upon music ; Felix takes admirable 
 
1829.] TO ZBLTEB. 353 
 
 notes, and — young rascal that he is — nnderstands how to re- 
 produce them very naively, with all his teacher's personal 
 peculiarities. Now Hegel says, that Bach's is not the right 
 kind of music ; that now they are further advanced, although 
 they are still a long way from the right thing. "Well, that 
 we know, or we don't know, as well as he, if he could 
 only explain to us musically, whether he has already found 
 the right thing. Meanwhile, let us go forward, 'piamo and 
 scwio, as the God, whom we all serve, inspires us. Tor to 
 be sure, we none of us know what to pray for, and yet we 
 always pray for more and more ; so let others do the 
 
 same 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 266. — Goethe to Zeltbb. 
 
 Weimar, 28th March, 1829. 
 Tour last letters, my dearest Friend, did me good, in 
 jest and in earnest, for they came at a good time. The most 
 recent, bringing news of the successful performance of that 
 grand old musical work, has set me thinking. I seem to hear 
 the distant roar of the sea. At the same time, I must con- 
 gratulate you on such a perfectly successful rendering of 
 that which it is wellnigh impossible to represent. I dare say, 
 the connoisseur who is an associate of such an art, when 
 listening to such works, has the same mental experience, 
 that I myself had lately, when I set the legacy of Mantegna 
 again before my eyes. It is Art already, Art in its entirety, 
 its possibilities and impossibilities fully alive, and yet still 
 undeveloped ; were it not so, it would not be what it is here, 
 not so venerable, not so rich in hope and in foundation. I 
 heartily and ungrudgingly rejoice with you about Felix ; 
 among my many pupils, I have scarcely been so fortunate, 
 
 even with a few 
 
 Dr. Eokermann, whom I see daily, is by degrees culti- 
 vating purer and more sympathetic powers of criticism; 
 with laudable patience, he is looking through an old and 
 hopeless accumulation of manuscripts, tied up in bundles, 
 and to my joy,he finds a good deal, worthyof being preserved 
 and published ; so the rest can now be safely burnt. .... 
 
354 Goethe's lbttbes , [1829. 
 
 They want to give my Faust at the Theatre ; with regard 
 to that, I play a passive, not to say, a suffering part. 
 However, on the whole, I need not feel uneasy about 
 this piece, for Duke Bernard found it, in Tipper Carolina, 
 in the house of an Indian, 
 
 So much for to-day ! All good wishes accompany this 
 letter. 
 
 Tour ever faithful 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 267. — Zeltbr to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 6th April, 1829. 
 .... I ENCLOSE you an extract about a similar little 
 dispute,* which is just now to the fore ; it will enable you 
 to see what one has to contend with. In return, I present 
 my adversary with a snare for so-called connoisseurs, and 
 if he falls into it, he shall have it hotter next time. He is 
 an earnest admirer of the compositions of W. Priedemann 
 Bach, (eldest son of Sebastian Bach,) which I am not, and 
 so he finds fault with me. A propos of this, he sent me an 
 Organ Concerto by Friedemann Bach, and cojned ifor me 
 the saying of QuintUian, referred to in the letter. To save 
 you the trouble of looking up chapter and page for your- 
 self, here it is : — 
 
 " Modeste tcmien et drmmispeoto judicio de tantis viris 
 judicanduvi est, we, quod plerisque cbceidit, damnent quoi rum 
 mtelligu/nt." 
 
 This Friedemann Bach of Halle was the most perfect 
 organ-player, whom I have ever known. He died here in 
 1784, when I had already obtained my rights as a citizen, 
 and had become Master- Mason. He was thought capri- 
 cious, because he would not play for everybody ; towards us 
 young people he was nothing of the sort, and would play for 
 hours together. As a composer, he had the Tic douloureux 
 of being original, of separating himself from father and 
 brothers, and consequently he sank into affectation, petti- 
 ness, barrenness, whereby he was as easily recognized, as 
 one who shuts his eyes that he may be invisible. We 
 
 * Goethe had been irritated by some observations of Herr Bendavid, 
 concerning the Farbenlehre, a subject on which he was unduly sensitive. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTER. 355 
 
 were always qaarrelling about this, and as my aesthetic 
 friend is still, to this very day, bitten with such original 
 
 views, I cannot forbear to snub him 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Bnclosueb. 
 Passage from a Letter of Zelter's to Serr Bendavid. 
 
 .... The highest thing that I can say of the above 
 work, (the Passion Music,) is, that I cannot express my 
 delight in it. We Were obliged to leave out some Chorales 
 and Airs, and in .spite of that, the performance takes some 
 three hours. If you reflect that this music was given on 
 Good Friday, and that the afternoon sermon intervened, 
 five full hours must have been taken up in devotion. The 
 good Leipzigers came and went as they chose, and so the 
 music went its own way, and the world may thank its 
 stars it is still there, for the worthy sons of old Bach, tutti 
 quamti, took so little pains to keep together the works of 
 their great father, that now even I, one born out of duo 
 time, deserve a little credit for picking up and admiring 
 the crumbs, which they have left under his table ; tJiey, 
 whose school exercises the loving father copied fair. In 
 one word, dear friend, the above-named Organ Concerto, 
 which you have so neatly copied from Sebastian Bach's 
 own manuscript, and with which you have honoured me, 
 is a painfully elaborated composition, with no mind in it ! 
 — How ! No mind P — Yes, yes, and I am strongly tempted 
 to think it even un-Friedemannic. Of course you know 
 that old Bach copied his Concerto for four Claviers from 
 honest old Vivaldi, note for note, only transposing it one 
 tone lower. I too still possess twelve Organ Concertos * 
 by Vivaldi, which Bach arranged for the organ in the 
 same way, and I doubt my being mistaken, when I declare 
 this Friedemann Organ Concerto to be just such a work, 
 because there is not a claw of a single thought of Bach's in 
 it, while on the other hand, there are whole handf uls of the 
 fiddle-scrapings of those days. But you are not therefore to 
 
 * Zelter must have meant Horn Concertos. 
 
356 GOETHE 'S LETTEES [1829. 
 
 call me ungrateful. For fifty years I have been wont to 
 honour Bach's genius. Friedemann died here, Emmanuel 
 Bach was Kwmmermusicus to the King, Kirnberger, Agri- 
 kola, pupils of old Bach, Ring, Bertnch, Schmalz, and others 
 used to play hardly anything but old Bach's pieces ; I my- 
 self have taught them for thirty years past, and have pupils 
 who play every note of Bach well, and do you want to impose 
 upon me, by saying, that such a bony canonic introduction, 
 with a Fugue upon a succession of mere sevenths, (which 
 old Bach called cobbler's patches,) is the genuine work of 
 so noble a spirit as Friedemann Bach ? Bach ? — Not that 
 I mean to run down Anton Vivaldi for it ; only he is no 
 Friedemann, just as Friedemann is no Sebastian, by a long 
 way, whatever fuss Forkel may choose to make about him. 
 What does Forkel mean, by saying, that Friedemann came 
 next to his father in originality ? Is that logic ? What 
 is originality ? Either Friedemann was original, or he 
 was not. n the first, he is what he is, first-hand from 
 Nature, having none over him and none beside him ; for 
 the nearer he is to one before him, the less original is he. 
 Explain your Forkel better to me, it will do you no harm. 
 But who would think of saying old Bach was original, if 
 he came near someone above himself ? Would you say so 
 of Homer, or Sophocles, or Shakespeare ? I knew the 
 greater part of Friedemann's compositions, and himself 
 personally into the bargain ; he himself unquestionably laid 
 claims to peculiarity, which in his last years, became caprice, 
 obstinacy, contradictoriness, nay, frivolity, for he had 
 nothing to live upon, and preferred letting his wife and 
 daughter starve, to earning anything, — though, with his 
 great cleverness, this would have been an easy matter. The 
 well-to-do and well-educated father of an only son sent me 
 once, to offer Friedemann an important engagement, as 
 a teacher. " I am no InformoAor" was his answer. He 
 was highly honoured here in respect of his talents. His 
 extemporary playing on the organ, especially when he was 
 in the humour, was the admiration of such men as Mar- 
 purg, Kirnberger, Benda, Agrikola, Fasch, Bertuch, Ring, 
 first-rate organ-players most of them, and yet they all felt, 
 how far they were left behind by him. He played whatever 
 first came into his head, and the longer he played, the more 
 
1829.] TO ZELTEE. 857 
 
 certain, magnificent, and overwhelming was the effect upon 
 us youngsters. Still more often have I been compelled to 
 recognize his superiority on the harpsichord, the grand piano, 
 and the clavier, although I never heard him play a single 
 note of his father's music, which everyone would have 
 liked to hear. 
 
 268. — Zeltee to Goethb. 
 
 Good Friday, 17th April, 1829. 
 
 .... To-DAT, instead of the usual Passion Music, 
 by Graun, I mean, by special request, to give another per- 
 formance of Bach's Passion, bidding defiance to my old bent 
 fingers, for my helper, Felix, is swimming on the high seas, 
 past Heligoland, to England, whither he has been invited. 
 As he plays the organ well, and there the organs are better 
 than the organists, I think he may try his hand there too. 
 .... Paganini with his accursed Violin- Concertos is 
 driving men and women mad here ; I dare say he will once 
 more carry off from Berlin 10,000 Thalers, if he does not 
 once more lose them first at Faro. I have not money 
 enough to give him two Thalers every time for his artifices, 
 and have heard nothing of him, beyond seeing his portrait, 
 which makes him very like the son of a witch. The real 
 misfortune he brings upon us is, that he is the downright 
 ruin of the young violinists in our Orchestra. Vale ! 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 269. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 28tli April, 1829. y 
 
 , ... In any case, it is our duty to look far afield, 
 and to listen to voices that are powerful and convincing. 
 The last quarterly issue of the Edinburgh Beview on Foreign 
 Literature has just arrived, and it is exceedingly curious 
 to see what the leading men think of Continental authors. 
 They are very conscientious about themselves, and re- 
 spectful towards their public. Earnestness, thoroughness, 
 moderation, and candour are their characteristics through- 
 out, and the extent and depth of their insight is incre- 
 dible. 
 
358 Goethe's letters [1829, 
 
 The above was written some few days ago, and mean- 
 while I have been reading that remarkable piece ia the 
 seventh volume of Calderon's plays, translated by Gries, 
 called The Locks of Absalom. Perhaps you may come 
 across it at a fitting time, and have leisure to read it. 
 
 The old truth reasserts itself in my mind, that in the 
 same way as Nature and poetry have perhaps, in modern 
 days, never been more closely united than in Shakespeare, 
 so the highest culture and poetry have nowhere been more 
 closely allied than in Calderon. We cannot expect our 
 contemporaries to see this clearly 
 
 A Frenchman * has set eight passages of my FoMst to 
 music, and sends me the score, very beautifully engraved ; 
 I should much like to send it on to you, for your friendly 
 criticism. 
 
 This reminds me that you still have a score of my Can- 
 tata, RiMaldo,\ composed by Winter, for Prince Frederick 
 of G-otha ; I still have the voice-parts, and many strange 
 memories are associated with this optis. Let me have 
 
 it back, therefore, if you can find it 
 
 And thus for ever, 
 G. 
 
 270. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 30th AprU, 1829. 
 Last Tuesday, Paganini paid me a visit at the Aca- 
 demy, and listened to our performance ; next day I at last 
 heard one of his concerts. The man's achievements are 
 marvellous, and I must say this, that though everyone 
 would be glad to produce his effects, yet his method of pro- 
 ducing them quite passes the comprehension of other vir- 
 tuosi upon his instrument. His individuality is therefore 
 Tnore than music, though it is not higher music, and I expect 
 I should be of the same opinion, if I heard him oftener. I 
 was so placed, that I could see every movement of his hand 
 and arm ; as his figure is rather small, these members must 
 be of rare flexibility, strength, and elasticity, for he is never 
 
 * Hector Berlioz. 
 
 + Sinaldo was written in 1811. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTBR. 359 
 
 weary of conquering ever greater difficnlties, in an ascend- 
 ing scale, with the same regularity as a clock with a soul 
 inside it. The hundred artifices of his bow and fingers, 
 to each one of which he has devoted thought and practice, 
 follow each other in good taste and order, and distinguish 
 him as a composer as well. But in any case, he is, in the 
 highest potentiality, a perfect master of his instrument ; 
 that which, with the best will in the world, he does not suc- 
 ceed in, comes forth as a bold variation 
 
 Please send your Frenchman's Faust one of these days ; 
 the subject is, as it were, specially devised for composers of 
 our time. 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 271. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 14th May, 1829. 
 .... Yesterday I heard Paganini again ; the man 
 is a rarity, and no mistake, a living violin. One starts, one 
 laughs, one is in despair at the most hazardous antics ; the 
 difl3.culty is intelligible to all, for the effect is felt by all. Nor 
 are grace and intellectual force wanting, and even that 
 which is not perfectly successful, is still new and interesting. 
 
 Z. 
 
 272. — Zeltbb to Gobthi. 
 
 May, 1829. 
 
 ■ ... In Letter 345 of your Correspondence with 
 Schiller, he writes that the melody for the Bajadere does 
 not fit all the strophes equally well. Perhaps you will 
 remember, that I sang it to the Dowager Duchess Amalie, 
 and that Wieland told the Duchess, he had thought 
 it impossible for one and the same melody to be so often 
 repeated without becoming wearisome, whereas it really 
 became more efEective. My singing, to be sure, is not 
 much to speak of, but then, as against that, many a singer 
 cannot declaim. For the rest, Schiller was quite satisfied 
 with my music to Der Tcmcher, and he railed at Naumanu, 
 who had just set Die Ideale. I had won a wager with 
 
 y 
 
360 goithe's letters [1829. 
 
 the Tcmcher too. One of our friends was dissatisfied with the 
 Ballad-forms, used by the poets, and exclaimed, "Who 
 could think of setting such verses, such a Diver as this, to 
 music ? " Several of us were present, and I, who had been 
 listening to the whole conversation in silence, called . out, 
 " I could ! and Schiller himself shall praise it ! " Then and 
 there I wrote down the very notes, and so they have re- 
 mained, however clumsy they may look. Immediately/ 
 afterwards, when 1 gave them forth — for I had the poem 
 on my lips, — an anything but musical matron, planted) 
 herself by my side, and kept beating time with her knit-' 
 ting-needle. Hardly was the last word over, when she 
 exclaimed, choked with emotion, "Well, that was an 
 infamous King ! " 
 
 Tours, 
 
 273. — GoETHB TO Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 17th May, 1829. 
 riEST of all, let, me thank you heartily for your 
 
 description of "Paganini I envy him such a listener, 
 
 and you such a virtuoso 
 
 1 could not help being very much pleased to hear of the 
 good old lady,* who treats my Farhenleh/re as a sort of 
 Bible. The little book certainly contains a good deal, 
 which everyone can assimilate, even though a great deal 
 that does not concern ns is allowed to remain in statu quo. 
 There is a very intelligent essay on colouring, which refers 
 to this same Fa/rhenlehre, in the January number of this 
 year's Morgenhlatt. The author is a practical artist, and all 
 that he can make use of has become alive to him ; he 
 might go still further. For my own satisfaction I shall 
 take up the subject again, from this point of view. Once 
 you are penetrated by a fundamental maxim, you can begin 
 to advance. Happily nothing in my work is in opposition 
 to the artist, and what he acknowledges in me, he can at 
 once make use of. But probably I shall never live to see a 
 mathematician look at Nature, unaffected by the weird 
 
 * Zelter's sister-in-law, an old lady of seventy -six. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTBR. 361 
 
 confusion of his formulee, and use his common sense and 
 understanding independently, like a sane person. Yet this 
 alone will enable a young man of energy, before plunging 
 into those labyrinths, to take the thread from the hands of 
 kindly Nature, the true Ariadne, who alone blesses us, and 
 
 to whom, all our life long, we cannot fail to be loyal 
 
 So far to-day ! With best wishes and greetings, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 274. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 21st May, 1829. 
 I AM reading, bit by bit, the Second Part of the 
 Schiller Correspondence, about the original publication of 
 Wilhelm Meister, which took place, just when I, for the first 
 time, got through your outer skin. A new era had dawned 
 for me out of the deepest affliction. I had just been happily 
 married to my second wife, whom I had known from her 
 childhood, (having been at the same Qymnadum with her 
 brothers). Before this I had given her lessons in sing- 
 ing, or rather, through her crystal voice and transparent 
 execution, I had felt for the first time, what no teaching 
 can give. I could not help being pleased with my own 
 Airs, when she sang them. People held their breath, so 
 as not to let Blip the smallest note. For her, I had already 
 in early days written down my first fresh impressions of 
 your Songs, on a series of leaves ; I am sorry they are 
 lost, for they marked the transition from my condition as 
 a citizen, to my natural vocation. 
 
 I had so many children, so many mouths to feed, so 
 much work, such delight in my strength, and then, I 
 had another gentle wife, who kept the children in order, 
 — and whenever the father came home, we had fine 
 times of it. I buUt houses for people, who to this day 
 owe me the money which I laid out, and when others 
 bothered themselves about what it would all come to, I 
 was as cheerful as possible. To be sure, there were diffi- 
 culties now and then ; I spoiled my customers, who had 
 too good a time of it, and wanted to have what I myself 
 had not got. That was the humour of the thing. Then 
 
362 Goethe's lettees [1829. 
 
 enters to my household Wilhelm Meister, with, his motley 
 troop of rational and irrational cattle. People said, I had 
 lost my wits — I saw only green meadows, and the sky full 
 
 of fiddles 
 
 Toui's, 
 Z. 
 
 276. — GoBTHB TO Zeltbb. 
 
 Sth June, 1829. 
 .... To-DAT the Princess Augusta * came to take 
 a friendly leave of me ; she is really as gifted as she ia 
 amiable. Good luck to her on that wide, tempestuous 
 sea ! 
 
 Do not put off writing. I am revising the account of my 
 second stay in Borne, a curious little volume, which — ^how- 
 ever it may turn out, — will always encourage thought and 
 feeling. 
 
 Your truly attached 
 
 J. W. V. GoBTHB. 
 
 276. — Zbltbb to Gobthb. 
 
 Sunday, 2Ist June, 1829. 
 Certain people can only show their presence of 
 mind and their share of the business, by means of loud 
 coughing, snorting, croaking and spitting ; Herr Berlioz 
 seems to be one of these. The sulphur-smell of Mephisto 
 attracts him, and so he must needs sneeze and puff, 
 till all the instruments in the Orchestra get the jumps — 
 only not a hair of Faust's head moves. Thank you however 
 
 for sending me the music Worthy Winter's Emaldo, 
 
 on the contrary, has anyhow a human form of some kind, 
 which is suitable for a Tenor ; but now we are as far re- 
 moved from that, as that so-called artificiality of tones 
 
 is from music 
 
 Ever yours, 
 Z. 
 
 * The present Empress of Germany, then on her way to marry 
 Prince Wilhelm of Prussia. 
 
1829.] TO ziLTiB. 363 
 
 277. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 18th July, 1829. 
 
 .... Herb, in my little den on the ground floor, 
 I have been arranging and hanging np in long rows, a 
 series of pictnres of ancient Latium and modern Rome. 
 Besides that, I have collected around me a number of books 
 on the same subject, thus reviving, as far as I can, the 
 recollection of my second stay in Rome ; I commend to 
 your kind consideration the volume, which will contain 
 these written reminiscences 
 
 The Polish poet * paid me a visit, accompanied by the 
 Princess Wolkonsky and a large suite ; he did not utter a 
 single word, and had not the good sense to present himself 
 to me alone. One would feel inclined to inveigh against 
 such behaviour, but that one has often been clumsy enough 
 oneself. 
 
 Professor Bauch spent a day with us ; he was pleasant, 
 cheerful, active, just as of old. A young man whom he 
 brought with him, and who may have a good deal of 
 talent, showed us a design for a kind of frieze ; the con- 
 ception and the drawing were creditable, but the subject 
 was Christ's entry into Jerusalem, which makes the rest 
 of us feel vexed, at the trouble an able man takes, to look 
 for motives, where there are none to be found. If people 
 would only keep piety, which is so essential and lovable in 
 life, distinct from Art, where, owing to its very simplicity 
 and dignity, it checks their energy, allowing only the very 
 highest mind freedom to unite with, if not actually to 
 master it ! 
 
 I am delighted at your return to the Second Part of 
 Faust; that will urge me on to put aside various other 
 things, and, at all events, to complete as soon as possible, 
 the immediate work which touches upon it. The end 
 is as good as quite finished, much that is important 
 in the intervening passages is complete, and if some 
 of the higher powers would only lay hold of me, and 
 
 * Adam Mickiewicz, who came to Goethe with a letter of introduction 
 from Madame Szymanowska, the pianiste. Goethe, however, afterwards 
 discorered, that on the occasion mentioned in this letter, his visitor was 
 a Bussian, and not the poet at all. 
 
364 gobthe's letters [1829. 
 
 confine me in a high fortress, for three months, there would 
 not be much left for me to do.* I realize it all so vividly 
 in heart and mind, that I often feel quite oppressed. 
 
 And now, the sweetest thing last ! It gives me heart- 
 felt pleasure, to hear that the Princess Augusta impressed 
 you so favourably with her many good qualities ; she com- 
 bines the characteristics of a woman and a Princess so 
 perfectly, that one is really lost in admiration, which again 
 gives rise to a feeling of deep respect, mingled with affec- 
 tion. I hope that you may in future have more frequent 
 opportunities of convincing yourself of this. 
 
 Thus much from my quiet, and — now that the haymaking 
 is over, — perfectly green valley. The calm is so great, that 
 early this morning, a pretty roe came out of the bushes, 
 and quietly began to eat the grass. I hope you are enjoy- 
 ing an equally pleasant morning in Berlin, with its abun- 
 dant life, noise, and bustle. 
 
 Faithfully and ever diligently yours, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 278. — ZiLTEE TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 20th August, 1829. 
 .... Felix is in Scotland, and has already written 
 down to us here, from the Highlands. I have commissioned 
 him to make a more accurate study of the national songs 
 and dances, on the spot, than did those travelling amateurs, 
 and uninstructed copyists, from whom we have hitherto 
 derived our knowledge. The dear rascal has the luck of 
 finding and making friends everywhere ; he has seen Sir 
 Walter Scott too. Then he found in London a young 
 Hanoverian, who was attached to the English Embassy 
 here, and who is now his companion on this instructive 
 journey, whether they walk, ride, or go by water. Later on, 
 he is to visit Ireland and Holland, coming home in the 
 autumn for his sister's marriage with Hensel, the Court 
 painter, and then starting for Italy. He is working hard, 
 and trying to build himself up, where there is no lack of 
 
 stone 
 
 Z. 
 
 * Compare Schiller and Goethe Correspondence, Letter 480. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTBB. 365 
 
 279. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 20th August, 1829. 
 .... We have just had with us an Englishman,* 
 who, at the beginning of the century, studied in Jena, and 
 who, since then, has followed up German literature, with a 
 perseverance that is quite incredible. He was so well in- 
 structed in the merita ca/usce of our circumstances, that even 
 had I wished to do so — and it is our usual way of treating 
 foreigners — I could not have dared to try and humbug him 
 with phrases. It transpired from his conversation, that for 
 the last twenty years and more, very well-educated English- 
 men have come over to Germany, and they have carefully 
 studied the personal characteristics, as well as the sesthetio 
 and moral relations of those men who may now be called 
 our ancestors. He told strange stories of Klopstock's ossi- 
 fication, f 
 
 Then he proved himself a missionary of English litera- 
 ture, and read poems to me and my daughter, when we 
 were together or alone. I particularly enjoyed following 
 Byron's Mewven and Earth both Vyith eye and ear, for I had 
 a second copy in my hand. Finally, he drew my attention 
 to Milton's Samson, and read it with me. It is curious to 
 recognize in it Byron's ancestor ; the latter is as grandiose 
 and far-seeing as the former, but the descendant certainly 
 runs ofE into the illimitable, into the strangest complexity, 
 where the former appears simple and stately. 
 
 Our Polish poet has just presented himself; had he 
 come a few days earlier, he would have been welcome 
 to join our circle, bat now I shall have to receive him 
 alone, and that is a very difficult, almost an impossible 
 matter 
 
 On gloomy days and bright days, 
 
 Your truly attached, 
 ^ G. 
 
 * Crabb Bobinson. 
 
 f " I have not the slightest recollection of having mentioned KIop- 
 stook at all, and cannot think what he referred to. Voigt says he never 
 knew Goethe forget anything, so perfect was his memory to the last, 
 and that, therefore, I probably did speak about Klopstock." — Crabb 
 Bobineon's Diary, vol. ii, p. 240. 
 
366 goethb's letters [1829. 
 
 280. — GoBTHK TO Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 19th October, 1829. 
 Once more I must entrust my affection and my 
 thoughts to paper, and first of all, let me confess that since 
 you left, I have felt quite down in the month. Any number 
 of attractive and suggestive works of Art were lying and 
 standing all around, everyone of which I might have 
 shared with you ! And what then did we share ? Hardly 
 anything worth mentioning. 
 
 There is really something absurd about the Present ; 
 / all that people think of is, the sight, the touch of 
 each other, and there they rest, — but it never occurs 
 to them, to reflect upon what is to be gained from such 
 moments. We should express our opinion on the subject 
 thus. The absent one is an ideal person, those who are 
 present, seem to one another to be quite commonplace. It 
 is a siUy thing, that the ideal is, as it were, ousted by the 
 real ; that may be the reason, why, to the moderns, their 
 ideal only manifests itself in longing. However, we wiU 
 not brood over this subject further, but let the matter rest, 
 with this seemly and unseemly preface, — though no doubt 
 I could spin out another long Litany, explaining the 
 general style of more modem life. 
 
 Now however, — to pass from what is fanciful to what is 
 pleasant, — I must tell you that Herr Temite has proved 
 himself truly generous ; for while I already owe him my 
 best thanks for the drawings and facsimiles he presented 
 me with, he has shown the most flattering confidence in me, 
 by entrusting me with his valuable traceries, which are now 
 lying before me. I shall take the greatest possible care 
 of them, and if there is anyone that deserves to see them, I 
 shall show them to him myself. 
 
 Here now is the greatest marvel of antiquity ; he that 
 hath eyes to see, let him see, viz. let him see the healthiness 
 of the moment, and what this is worth. For although 
 by a most terrible calamity, these pictures were buried 
 amongst ruins for nearly two thousand years, they are still 
 just as fresh and as sound as they were in the happy, easy 
 hour, which preceded their fearful entombment. 
 
1829.] TO ZELTER. 367 
 
 If we were asked, what they represent, it might perhaps 
 be rather perplexing to give an answer; meantime I 
 should Bay, that these forms give us the feeling, that 
 the moment must be pregnant and sufficient to itself, 
 if it is to become a worthy segment of time and eternity. 
 
 What is here said about Plastic Art, applies in reality 
 even better to music, and you, old fellow, when you re- 
 flect upon your own work and your own Institution, will 
 not dispute the strange words I have uttered above. In- 
 deed, foom this point of view, music fills up the present- 
 moment more decisively than anything else, whether it 
 awakens in the tranquil mind reverence and worship, or 
 whether it summons the active senses to dance and revelry. 
 The rest I leave to a heart that is pious and reverential, 
 and a mind that is full of discernment. 
 
 Now and ever yours, 
 
 J. W. v. Goethe. 
 
 281. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 27th October, 1829. 
 .... Mt Felix has met with an accident in 
 London ; he has been thrown out of a carriage, and pre- 
 vented from coming to his sister's wedding in Berlin. I 
 am afraid he may fiave broken something, for it is a long 
 business, and he cannot write ; stUl, they say he is getting 
 better. He is expected to return by way of Calais, so I 
 suppose he will come through France to Weimar, and pay 
 
 you a call 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 282. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 1st November, 1829. 
 .... One word about what I am reading ! I 
 have got as far as the eighth volume of Bourrienne's * 
 
 * Goethe observes that Bourrienne's History of Napoleon's campaign 
 in Egypt " destroys the romantic cast of many scenes, and displays 
 facts in their naked, sublime truth." See Eckermann's Conversations with 
 Goethe, p. 391. 
 
368 gobthe's letters [1829, 
 
 Memoirs. Recollection and illustration are here c6mbined 
 for us. The new view of an important point in history, here 
 set before the reader, is noteworthy ; the author makes it 
 seem highly probable that Napoleon never meant to cross 
 to England — that his real object was only, under this pre- 
 tence, to form the nucleus of a great, active, military 
 power, ready for all emergencies, and to arrange and locate 
 a large body of troops round this centre, so that, at the 
 shortest notice, he could bring them to and across the 
 Rhine ; * a plan in which he was so far successful, that 
 (contrary to universal expectation) he surrounded Ulm, 
 and got the place into his power, — to speak no further of 
 the consequences of this expedition. 
 
 When we are challenged to turn our thoughts back to 
 that period, we feel astonishment beset us afresh. It is 
 fortunate, that at the time when we were living through 
 all this, we could not clearly realize the immensity of such 
 events 
 
 I feel myself specially called upon to preserve what I 
 have done for the study of Nature. Of the three hundred 
 assembled Naturalists, f there is not one, who shows the 
 faintest approximation to my way of thinking, and it may 
 be, that is as well. Approximations only produce errors. 
 If one wants to bequeath something useful to posterity, it 
 must be confessions ; one must present oneself as an indi- 
 vidual, one's thought, one's opinions, and those who come 
 after may pick out for themselves what suits them, and 
 what will pass current universally. Our ancestors left us 
 plenty of that kind of thing. 
 
 Herewith I close to-day's discourse. 
 
 I heard Paganini yesterday evening. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 * Zelter observes in his next letter, " If I am not mistaken, Ijas 
 Cases has a passage, in which the hero reveals his intention at that 
 time. The English alone were wise enough to make some use of such 
 demonstrations, by exciting the whole of their Island, and so on." 
 ^ -f- Goethe alludes to scientific meetings, one of which had been held 
 some time before, in Berlin. See Letter 251. 
 
1829.] TO ZBLTEE. 369 
 
 283. — Goethe to Zeltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 9th November, 1829. 
 .... I too have now heard Paganini, and imme- 
 diately afterwards, on the very same evening, I opened 
 your letter, which enabled me to fancy that my estimate 
 of these marvels was fairly sensible. I thought there was 
 something lacking to make up what we call enjoyment, 
 which in me is always hovering between sense and under- 
 standing — a base to this pillar of flame and cloud. 
 
 Were I in Berlin, I should seldom miss the Moser 
 Quartett evenings. I have always found performances of 
 this kind more intelligible than other instrumental music ; 
 you hear four rational persona conversing together, and fancy 
 you get something from their discourse, and learn to know 
 the peculiarities of their different instruments. This time 
 I felt the want of such a foundation, both mentally and 
 orally ; I only heard something meteoric, and could give 
 no further account of it to myself. Yet it is curious to hear 
 people, and especially women, talk about it ; without the 
 slightest misgiving, they gave utterance to what are really 
 confessions. 
 
 And now I want to know, if you have good news of the 
 worthy Felix ; I take the greatest interest in him, for it is 
 a very painful thing to see a person, who has become 
 so famous, threatened in his onward course by a mean 
 accident. Let me have a few comforting words about 
 him 
 
 I must own that the French entertain me more than 
 anyone else ; I follow with quiet thought the lectures of 
 Guizot, Villemain, and Cousin. Le Globe, La Bevue Frwn- 
 gaise, and — ^for the last three weeks — Le Temps, introduce 
 me to a circle we should look for in vain throughout 
 Germany. But although I can give them the highest 
 praise in all that touches immediately upon practical ethics, 
 I am not equally well satisfied with their observations of 
 Nature. Even granting that their method of experiment 
 is fully entitled to our respect, still when it comes to re- 
 flection, they cannot rid themselves of mechanical and ato- 
 mistic images, and once possessed of an idea, they want to 
 
 B B 
 
370 Goethe's lbttees [1829. 
 
 bring it in by the back door, which, once for all, cannot 
 be done. 
 
 In everything which is termed natural philosophy, I 
 adhere to my own path, earnestly and attentively, step by 
 step. Our contemporaries are really too odd, the m.ore's 
 the pity. The Milanese told me lately, with mnch as- 
 tonishment, that Herr von B. was going to give them 
 visible proof, that the Enganean range, which they had 
 hitherto regarded as a natural offshoot of the Alps, had — 
 some time or other — shot up out of the earth. They 
 accept this, much in the same way as savages do a mis- 
 sionary's sermon. And a few days ago, I received a com- 
 munication from the far North, to the efEect that the Altai 
 mountains also had once upon a time been heaved up out of 
 the depths. And you may all thank God, if the earth's 
 paunch does not some day think of relieving itself of its 
 fermentation, in a similar fashion, between Berlin and 
 Potsdam. The Paris Academy sanctions the idea, that 
 after the earth's crust had been fully formed. Mount Blanc 
 rose up out of the abyss at the very last moment. Thus, 
 by little and little, nonsense is gaining the ascendancy, 
 and will become the general belief of nations and scholars, 
 just as in the darkest ages, people believed so firmly in 
 witches and demons, and their doings, as actually to pro- 
 ceed against them with the most hideous tortures. 
 
 Herein I have always admired the great Bang Matthias 
 of Hungary, who made a law forbidding all mention of 
 witches — imasmuch as there were none. Without being a 
 king, I — in a quiet way — act just in the same fashion to- 
 wards these babblers, dabblers, and splutterers, by crediting 
 Nature, in her great operations, with simpler and grander 
 means. Meanwhile however, it is a pity, that from the 
 Chinese boundary to this point, we are not allowed to 
 announce anything but what holds good in Paris. Pardon 
 me, if I continue to speak of things, which have no direct 
 interest for you ; I think you will find some echo of them 
 in your own circumstances. Nothing draws me from my 
 old, tried path, or hinders me from softly, softly, unveiling 
 problems, as if I were peeling onions, — or from respecting 
 every bud that shows real, though silent life. 
 
 I could say a great deal more about the way I am dealing 
 
1829.] TO ZBLTER. 371 
 
 with the last things that have been sent to me. Here and 
 there too, it is cheerful and pleasant enough, but in the end, 
 I feel as if the roses are faduig, though not without leaving 
 offshoots and buds. The older I get, the more I rely upon 
 the law whieh hids the rose and lily bloom. . . 
 
 Tours ever, 
 Ot. 
 
 284. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 13th November, 1829. 
 
 Let me tell you a strange thing, that time has 
 brought to light; it will amuse you to think about it. 
 Tour Frederick, who, I think, is justly called the Great, 
 was in fact a regular King incarnate, and insisted that 
 everything produced throughout the wide world, was also 
 to be found in his kingdom. It is well known, that in 
 consequence of this, the bread-eating people, served by 
 patriotic millstones, had for some length of time, to swallow 
 a goodly portion of clay and gravel with their food. 
 
 But never mind that ; what I really wanted to tell you, 
 is this. The King used to plague his Mining Department 
 most dreadfully, to find him rock-salt in his dominions. 
 For as it was found in Poland yonder, and in many other 
 parts of the earth, he could see no reason, why it should 
 not be met with in Prussia as well. 
 
 I have read several annual reports of the Mining Depart- 
 ment, at the end of which, honest Count Heinitz states with 
 all possible modesty, "that in accordance with our duty, 
 the greatest pains have been taken, to find rock-salt in 
 your Majesty's Dominions, but we have not yet been for- 
 tunate enough to attain this object ; however, the inves- 
 tigations and examinations shall be continued with the 
 greatest zeal." This phrase was traditionally repeated for 
 several years. Many theories were discussed to and fro by 
 the geologists of those days ; many salt springs revealed 
 themselves, but nobody hoped for blocks of mineral salt. 
 
 Now however, I am informed by the SuperintendeP-t of 
 Salt Mines, Glenk, that in the night between the 22nd and 
 23rd of October, he sank a shaft to the depth of 1,170 feet, 
 and came upon a perfectly pure form of crystal salt, which. 
 
372 goethb's letters [1829 
 
 judging by the fragments, was partly granular, partly 
 laminated. He thouglit of sinking it another twenfy feet 
 deeper into this solid mass, and then taking further measures. 
 The place is called Stotternheim, and it is situated behind 
 the Ettersberg, in a great plain. I dare say you have a 
 pleasant recollection of the mountain aforesaid. 
 
 I will say no more, yet it is strange that a royal magic 
 wand could, order beforehand that, which — after the lapse 
 of so many years — is discovered in the lowest possible 
 depths. To be sure, Prussia has no longer any need to 
 trouble herself about salt at such a depth, but it is clear 
 from the above, that such a thing might be obtained in the 
 kingdom. Here therefore, let us make honourable mention 
 of the fact, that during the last fifty years, our knowledge 
 and technique have advanced so far, that a man is bold 
 enough to bore down 1,200 feet into the earth, knowing 
 and saying beforehand, what must be found there. This 
 is much, but not enough ; the treasure has then to be raised, 
 and brought into common use, as one of the most essential 
 needs of man and beast. Here however, we have the 
 powerful assistance of Physics, Mechanism, and Chemistry. 
 
 If, before this, you have bestowed any attention upon the 
 poem * sent you, (on the 29th of February, 1828,) which 
 was printed in the Leipzig Musenahncmach (of 1880), you 
 will forgive my being so explicit on the subject. The salt 
 water then obtainable, came from a higher, and less favoured 
 region. In earlier times, people were satisfied with a region 
 that yielded little, but they feared to lose it, if they went 
 deeper. Judgment and enterprise came in with later days, 
 and thus we live to see, what Frederick the Griorious desired 
 and commanded. 
 
 Be kind to this little story ; it was interesting to me, one 
 quiet evening, when the wish to tell it to someone made 
 
 me turn to you 
 
 G. 
 
 * Die ersien Erzevgnisse der Siotiemheimer Saline, &c. 
 
1829.] TO ZILTEE. 373 
 
 285. — Zbltbe to Goethe. 
 
 15th November, 1829. 
 That fine word Faustus, Fauste, Faust, has been 
 invested by you with such ominous importance, that by all 
 laws, human and divine, you ought to be told of its further 
 consequences. So listen ! for the first time yesterday 
 evening, I heard and saw, from beginning to end, Faust, 
 the Grand Opera by J. C. Bernard and Spohr. 
 
 If I am not, mistaken, the composer got together a San- 
 hedrin, or whatever they call it, in order that they might 
 jointly sanction laws, which are to be universally current, 
 alike for grand Opera and for light Opera, as is clear from 
 the above stupendous work. In connection with this, he 
 seemed especially to have reckoned on C. M. von Weber; 
 whether an understanding was arrived at, I know not, nor 
 have I asked. 
 
 Yesterday's performance of this full, highly wrought 
 work, was worthy of the greatest praise, nor did the 
 crowded house fail to applaud it. The Orchestra, the 
 highest faculty of an Opera, was one man ; the singers 
 were as perfect as possible ; machinery, decorations, witches, 
 ghosts, and other monsters — all met witlt the fullest re- 
 cognition and the best reception Now, with regard 
 
 to the work of the composer, who certainly merits more 
 recognition as an artist in tones, than as a musician and 
 melodist — everything — up to the smallest detail, is as- 
 toundingly worked out, with the greatest elaboration of 
 art, so as to outwit, to outbid the most watchful ear. The 
 
 finest Brabant lace is coarse work compared to it 
 
 Z. 
 
 286. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 17th November, 1829. 
 As you speak of Moser's Quartetts, it seems you must 
 have heard them, even as far as Weimar. I must say, 
 however rarely I go to hear them, they are the things I like 
 best of their kind. I know not, if I ever wrote to you upon 
 this subject, but I venture to doubt, if Haydn, Mozart, and 
 
374 Goethe's letters [1829. 
 
 Beethoven ever enjoyed so pure, healthy, and sure a ren- 
 dering of their Quartetts, as is given here, when Moser is 
 at his best ; for it would be too much to ask, that he should 
 succeed every day 
 
 To hear you praising my old Pritz is as valuable to me, 
 as though I had discovered in my own cellar rock-salt 
 enough for the whole monarchy. I certainly have read 
 your poem in the Lei/pziger Musenalmanach, and I knew it 
 even at the time, because you sent it to me, on the occasion 
 of your Festival. 
 
 I am much amused with our " patriotic millstones," as 
 you call them, when I see so many old gentlemen, between 
 seventy and a hundred years old, doddering about me, who 
 have held out for so long, on a diet of clay and silicious earth. 
 The old King was also severely blamed, for forbidding the 
 further import of Swedish iron into the country. Our 
 cannon-wheels had to be covered with native iron, and 
 when they were driven over our pavements, the tires 
 snapped asunder, like the stems of tobacco pipes. At that 
 time, people laughed at him, and never thought our iron 
 could be utilized as it is now, when we make bracelets and 
 chains of it. I pride myself not a little on having seen him 
 so often ; for when he died, I was already a citizen of 
 Berlin, and had much more than I have now, because 
 
 I spent less 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 287. — Goethe to Zeltbk. 
 
 Weimar, 20th November, 1829. 
 
 If we once let ourselves in for historical and etymo- 
 logical investigations, we almost always end in greater 
 uncertainty than we began with. Tour question as to the 
 origin of the name of Mephistopheles, I cannot answer 
 directly; but the accompanying pages may confirm your 
 friend's surmise, which refers it to the same fantastic source 
 and time, as the legend of Famt; probably, however, we 
 must not assign it to the Middle Ages. It seems to have 
 arisen in the sixteenth, and to have developed itself in 
 the seventeenth century. The Protestant necromancers 
 had no immediate need to fear ecclesiastical ezcommuni- 
 
1829,] TO ZELTEB. 375 
 
 cation, and so there were all tte more Gophtas, who knew 
 how to profit by the stupidity, the helplessness, the pas- 
 sionate desires of mankind ; for it was certainly easier to 
 grow rich by means of a few cramped characters and 
 senseless mutterings, than to eat one's daily bread in the 
 Sweat of one's brow. Have we not recently, among the 
 Feiistadt circle, nnearthed a similar nest of treasure- 
 diggers, and with them a dozen of the same sort of 
 tieatises on magic, none of which, however, is equal in 
 value to the Codex, from which the accompanying extract 
 has been made ? 
 
 So much to begin with, together with my kindest greet- 
 ings to Herr Friedlander, and pray pardon my elaborate 
 reply 
 
 May all good spirits follow in the train of so many 
 devilish ones ! 
 
 G. 
 
 1. Enclostjeb. 
 
 The Bomish Church always dealt with heretics and 
 magicians, as belonging to the same class, and hurled the 
 severest anathemas against them, as well as at everything 
 connected with soothsaying and chiromancy. With the 
 advance of knowledge, and a closer insight into the work- 
 ings of Nature, the yearning after strange, mysterious 
 powers seems to have increased. Protestantism freed 
 men from all dread of ecclesiastical penalties ; student life 
 became more independent, and furnished opportunities for 
 loose and impious tricks, and thus, in the middle of the 
 sixteenth century, the belief in demons and magic seems 
 to have assumed a more methodical form, whereas it had 
 previously found followers only among the puzzle-headed 
 vulgar. The scene of the story of Faust was laid in Witten- 
 berg, and therefore in the heart of Protestantism, and 
 certainly by Protestants themselves ; for in all the writings 
 relating to the subject, there is no trace of priestly bigotry, 
 which, where it is found, is always obvious enough. 
 
 In order to give you a proof of the high dignity of 
 Mephistopheles, I enclose the copy of an extract from a 
 passage in Fcmst's Hollenzwang. This very remarkable 
 work of closely reasoned nonsense is said to have been 
 
376 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1829. 
 
 printed in Passau in 1612, after it had long been circulated 
 in manuscript. Neither I, nor any of my friends, have 
 seen an original, but we possess, (in the Grand Ducal 
 Library,) a very neat and perfect copy, which — ^to judge/ 
 from the handwriting, and other circumstances — probablji 
 belongs to the last half of the seventeenth century, / 
 
 2. Enclosueb. 
 
 Praxis. ' 
 
 Cabulae nigrse 
 
 Doctoris Johannis Fau^tii 
 
 Magi celeberrimi 
 
 Passau MDCXII. 
 
 SllOOND TITLE. 
 
 D. Johannis Faustii 
 
 Magia 
 
 uaturalis 
 
 et 
 
 innaturalis. 
 
 Or 
 
 The Inscrutable Book of Infernal Magic, 
 
 That is. 
 
 The Book of "Wonders and Magic Arts, 
 
 Whereby 
 
 I have coerced the spirits of Hell, that they have been 
 
 obliged perforce to carry out my will. 
 
 Printed at Passau A6. 1612. 
 
 ■ The First Part 
 
 of this Book 
 
 treats of the 
 
 Nigra mantia 
 
 Or 
 
 Cabula nigra 
 
 As also of 
 
 Magia naturali, et innaturali 
 
1829.] TO ZELTBR 377 
 
 Cap. I. 
 
 Treats of the ClaBsification of the Spirits, and their names, 
 also of what assistance they can be to men. 
 
 Now in order, dear Descendant, that you may be made 
 acquainted with the government and distribution of the 
 Spirits into Satanic bands and princedoms, I will herewith, 
 in this chapter, teach and show to you their names, one 
 after the other, but in the following chapter, their division 
 into bands and principalities. 
 
 Nadanniel is the Smrit, who is rejected of God, otherwise 
 called Lucifer, also Bludohn, also Beelzebub. 
 
 There are also among the whole Hellish host seven 
 Electors, as Lucifer, Marbuel, Ariel, Aciel, Barbiel, Mephis- 
 tophiel, Apadiel. 
 
 But among these seven Electors, there are also counted 
 four Grand Dukes — Lucifer, Ariel, Aciel, Marbuel. 
 
 There are also among the Lords of Hell seven Counts- 
 Palatine, by name : Ahisdophiel, Camniel, Padiel, Coradiel, 
 Osphadiel, Adadiel, Capfiel. All of these are very mighty 
 spirits in the Army of Hell. 
 
 There are also among this Hellish host seven lesser Counts, 
 by name : Badiel, Dirachiel, Paradiel, Armodiel, Ischsca- 
 badiel, Jazariel, Casadiel. 
 
 Ischscabadiel is a spirit of Pride. 
 
 Jazariel brings fortk to men all those primeval Spirits, which hover 
 about in mid-air, outside the Paradise of Joys. 
 
 There are likewise among the Hellish host seven Barons, 
 by name : 
 
 1. Germiciel, a powerful Spirit of the air. 
 
 2. Adiel, a powerful fire Spirit. 
 
 3. Craffiel, a powerful war Spirit. 
 
 4. Paradiel. 5. Assardiel. 6; Kniedadiel. 7. Amniel. 
 There are likewise among the HelUsh host seven Spirits 
 
 of Nobility, by name : 
 
 1. Amudiel. 2. Kiriel ; these two are mighty fire 
 Spirits. 
 
 3. Bethnael. 4. Geliel. 6. Eequiel. 6. Aprinaelis. 
 7. Tagriel. 
 
 These last four, 4, 6, 6, 7, are minor fire Spirits, and are numbered 
 among the army of Hell. 
 
378 Goethe's letters [1829. 
 
 There are likewise among the Hellish host seven Givio 
 Spirits, by name : 
 
 1. Alhemiel. 2. Amnixiel. 3. Egibiel. 4. Adriel. 
 These four also belong to the army of Hell. 
 
 5. Azeruel. 6. Ergediel. 7. Abdicnel. 
 These three are fire Spirits. 
 
 There are likewise among the Hellish host seven Peasoml 
 Spirits, which are named : 
 
 1. Acemel. 2. Amediel. These two are fire Spirits. 
 
 3. Coradiel. 4. Sumnidiel. 5. Coaohtiel. These three 
 are Spirits of the air. 
 
 6. Kirotiel. 7. Apaotiel. These two belong to the 
 army of Hell. 
 
 There are likewise among the Hellish host seven Wise 
 Spirits. These are the fleetest of all, and the head of the 
 army of Hell, and they may be made use of for any Arts, 
 whenever they are desired. 
 
 1. Mephistophiel. 2. Barbiel. 3. Marbael. 4. Ariel. 
 5. Aciel. 6. Apadiel. 7. Camniel. 
 
 There are likewise seven Foolish Spirits, who have great 
 power, and are also skilled in many artifices, but never- 
 theless are very foolish; they are fond of making com- 
 pacts and agreements with mankind, so they can easily 
 be eluded again by many artifices. These are by name : 
 
 1. Padiel. 2. Cafphiel. 3. Paraliiel. 4. Casdiel. 5. 
 Kniedatiel. 6. Amniel. 7. Tagriel. 
 
 There are likewise four Free Spirits, by name as follows : 
 
 1. Asmodiel is the Chief, and the Spirit of murder. 
 
 2. Discerdiel, the Spirit of contention. 
 
 3. Amodiel, the Spirit of harlots. 
 
 4. Damniel is the Spirit of theft, (a spirit of the air). 
 These four Free Spirits also belong to the army of Hell. 
 
 Nadanniel is the Spirit bound and rejected of Grod. 
 
 Cap. II. 
 
 Treats of the Classifying of all Spirits into the bands of 
 their Princes. 
 
 All the Spirits of the army of Hell are under Nadanniel 
 or Lucifer, also called Beelzebub. 
 
 All Fire- Spirits under Ariel. 
 
1829.] TO ZBHTEE. 379 
 
 All the Spirits of the Earth and Air under Marbnel. 
 
 All the minor Dukes and Barons under Aciel. 
 
 All the Counts Palatine under Barbiel. 
 
 Under the seven Counts-Palatine are the seven Spirits of 
 Nobility. 
 
 And Mephistophiel stands above Amudiel, for 
 
 N.B. Mephistophiel, instead of Lucifer, is placed at 
 the head of all the Spirits. 
 
 Under the seven minor Counts stand the seven Spirits of 
 Nobility, as they f ollo-w in order, for as the seven Spirits 
 of Nobility follow in order, so also do the seven Civic 
 Spirits follow in order. 
 
 Under the seven Spirits of Nobility stand the seven Civic 
 Spirits, according to order, in the same way as the Spirits 
 of Nobility follow in order. 
 
 Under the seven Civic Spirits stand the seven Peasant 
 Spirits, in order, like the seven Civic Spirits. 
 
 Under the seven Peasant Spirits stand the seven Wise 
 Spirits, according to order, as the Civic Spirits follow in 
 order, and 
 
 Under the seven Wise Spirits stand the seven Foolish 
 Spirits in order; as the Wise stand in order, so too the 
 Poohsh stand in order. 
 
 288. — GoMiCH TO Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 16th December, 1829. 
 As I know it always puts you into the best of 
 humours, when one introduces something creditable to 
 your old King's memory, I send you herewith a good 
 pinch of rock-salt, with the friendly request, that you will 
 sprinkle it into your soup at the next opportunity, and 
 when you feel the taste of it on your tongue, bear in mind 
 that Frederick the Second could not easUy have enjoyed a 
 more delightful dinner, than if his food had been seasoned 
 with this product of his own Kingdom, and he had seen 
 
 his golden salt-cellars liberally filled with it 
 
 G. 
 
380 GOETHE'S LETTBES [1829. 
 
 289. — ZiLTER TO Goethe. 
 
 17th December, 1829. 
 Small causes and great effects ! A dumb fisher- 
 maiden, seduced by the son of the Viceroy of Naples, is 
 the heroine of the famous French Opera, La Muette de 
 Portici. The maiden is dumb as a fish, but all the others, 
 Mr. Auber at their head, make such a horrible shindy, five 
 Acts long, that at last, even Vesuvius awakes, and feeling 
 very uncomfortable in his interior, grumbling and roaring, 
 spits at the sky. Onr public is revelling in -this dinner 
 of the Titans, which it has now devoured for the twenty- 
 seventh time, and yet it never cries, " Hold, enough ! " The 
 singers and players are half roasted afterwards, but really 
 I came away almost done to a turn. However there is no 
 lack of talent, and it makes a precious pother 
 
 18th December, 1829. 
 
 I have just heard Auber's Opera, La Fiomcee. When 
 you speak of a man, you should remember at least two of his 
 actions. The lady is bent upon marrying an upholsterer, 
 and gets a cavalry officer in his place ; a grand spectacle 
 arises from this, which the band has to make, and does 
 make, alone, for thunder and lightning are on this occasion 
 engaged elsewhere. One is amused and interested, and 
 there is some stuff in it, though the whole thing is a merry- 
 go-round. 
 
 They have just brought me your letter of the 16th, in 
 which you speak of the Muette, by this same composer. 
 You are quite in your own way, which is also mine. All 
 true music can only be mental, and work mentally ; what 
 is beyond that, has been already forbidden by Lycurgus, 
 and rightly, for it is of evil ! But in spite of that severe 
 lawgiver, I must make an exception in favour of the organ, 
 because that, from my youth upwards, has stirred my 
 deepest conscience, like an earnest confessor, as you long 
 ago showed quite involuntarily in Faust. That scene, in 
 its place, is crushing in effect, and if no one knows how, I 
 
 know it, iot I have the whole Church before my eyes 
 
 Salve ! 
 Z. 
 
1829,] TO ZELTEE. 381 
 
 290. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 25th December, 1829. 
 .... The reason why I mention the worthy name 
 (of Dr. Primrose) here, and illustrate my circumstances, 
 by the picture of his family circle, I will now briefly ex- 
 plain to you. I lately chanced to fall in with The Vicar of 
 Wakefield, and felt compelled to read the little book over 
 again, from beginning to end, being not a little affected by 
 the vivid recollection of all that I have owed to the author, 
 for the last seventy years. The influence Goldsmith and 
 Sterne exercised upon me, just at the chief point of my 
 development, cannot be estimated. This high, benevolent 
 irony, this just and comprehensive way of viewing things, 
 this gentleness to all opposition, this equanimity under 
 every change, and whatever else all the kindred virtues 
 may be termed, — such things were a most admirable train- 
 ing for me, and surely, these are the sentiments, which in 
 the end lead us back from all the mistaken paths of life. 
 
 By the way, it is strange that Torick should incline 
 rather to that which has no Form, and that Goldsmith 
 should be all Form, as I myself aspired to be when the 
 worthy Germans had convinced themselves, that the pecu- 
 liarity of true humour is to have no Form 
 
 J. W. T. Goethe. 
 
 291. — Goethe to Zbltek. 
 
 New Tear's Etc, 1829. 
 I GATHER from your letter, dearest Friend, that it 
 was Milton's tragedy that induced Handel to write his 
 Swmson. However, I should be curious to know, how he 
 treated that glorious poetic work, and how he epitomized it. 
 I read Milton's Samson, last summer, with an English man 
 of letters, (Crabb Robinson,) who was staying with us, and 
 my admiration of it was boundless. I could not mention 
 any work, that approached so closely to the purport and 
 style of ancient Greek Tragedy, nor one that deserved equal 
 recognition, both as regards design and execution. Handel 
 probably has dealt with it, as with the Bible, extracting, 
 
382 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1829. 
 
 in accordance ■with, dramatic rules, the most expressive, 
 the most important, and at the same time the most vocal 
 portions of the story. If any little book was printed for 
 your performance, pray let me see it, or tell me, in what 
 other way I can obtain the information I want 
 
 The above has been lying by me for some time, and 
 now at the end of the year, I will avail myself of the 
 opportunity to add what has been occupying me for some 
 time past. When at one with ourselves, we are so too with 
 others. I have observed, that I regard that thought as 
 true, which is fruitful to myself, which is connected with 
 the rest of my thoughts, and at the same time, helps me 
 on ; now it is not only possible, but natural, that such a 
 thought should not connect itself with the mind of another, 
 nor help him on — nay, it may even hinder him, and con- 
 sequently he will regard it as false. Once we are thoroughly 
 convinced of this, we shall never enter upon controversies. 
 
 The belief that I had discovered Myron's cow * on the 
 coins of Dyrraohium, gave me special encouragement, and 
 it is still of use to me. The people of Leipzig and Got- 
 tingen would not hear of it ; that does not a&ct me in 
 
 the least, for I have my advantage from it 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 * For Jdyrona Kuk, see Kiimt und Alterthvm. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEB. 383 
 
 1830. 
 
 292. — GoeTHE to Zblteb. 
 
 Weimar, 12th January, 1830. 
 It is both right and true, that every man has some- ^ 
 thing to work at and to do, either in breadth or depth, 
 even though he may not exactly aspire to height. I am 
 delighted to find that you are firm and energetic, as of 
 old, and actively interested in the doings of the world, 
 
 ■which I indeed have long since given up 
 
 The Schiller letters are another proof, that where friends 
 are in earnest, each day brings its own gain, so that at last, 
 the year, when summed up, is of incalculable advantage. 
 Details, in reality, constitute the life; results may be 
 valuable, but they are more surprising than useful. 
 
 Tour dear letter of the 9th of January has just arrived ; 
 I well remember, that you had always rather a liking for 
 the Rogue of Tvmnath, and that I admired your courage, 
 in not hesitating to declare yourself Samson's rival. 
 
 In Milton, according to the way of the ancients, the lady 
 should not have appeared again, after that scene of hatred 
 and violence. I quite understand, that the musician would 
 have further need of her ; all the more so, because in our 
 day, people demand a complete solution, whether for good 
 or evil. I will inquire whether the score, left here in old 
 days, may not possibly still be in existence, somewhere in 
 the Chamberlain's office, and then amuse myself by making 
 further comparisons 
 
 Herewith, mv kindest farewell ! 
 
384 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 293. — Zeltbr to Goethe. 
 
 25th January, 1830. 
 .... Fbom the enclosure, you will see again, how, 
 often enough, I represent your Vicar or Chaplain. What 
 a lot our Anglomaniac knows about his translation of Mac- 
 leth ! Now as I consider this nothing but one translation 
 • the more, and do not conceal it from him, I had rather not 
 disoblige my next neighbour. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 Enclosueb. 
 
 ISth January, 1830. 
 
 A special circumstance, my dear Zelter, makes it im- 
 portant for me to know, if Schiller understood English, or 
 not ? In his Correspondence with Goethe, they certainly 
 discuss Macbeth, but not a word is said, as to whether 
 Schiller had really mastered the English language. Herr 
 Ton Goethe would be sure to know more exactly ; in case 
 you too are ignorant on this point, you would very much 
 oblige me, if, when the occasion of your writing to him 
 offered an opportunity, you could ask for more definite 
 information. 
 
 Ever yours, &c. 
 
 Answer. 
 
 So far as I know, Schiller read English well enough, and 
 even Goethe would not say more. But I should not like to 
 swear, that both these men were not of opinion, that they 
 understood Shakespeare the poet, better than his learned 
 countrymen. 
 
 Surely Goethe's opinion must be known to you, that it 
 is impossible to put that colossal man, skin, hair, and all, 
 down upon a German table, like a live sucking-pig. 
 
 At "Weimar too, (in his time,) they used so to manage 
 at the little Theatre, that every week a really good piece 
 was given in the best style, which, I suppose, necessitated 
 the translation of French, Italian, and Spanish plays. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEK. 385 
 
 The spectator cares not a jot for historical accuracy ; he 
 "wants to be carried away, edified, charmed. And the 
 Theatre exists for the spectator, even if it is much too 
 limited for a poet like Shakespeare, though up to the present 
 time, he has shown himself unmistakabte, in every dress that 
 German tailors put upon him. Once for all, he will not 
 let himself be killed. 
 
 " Take care of him," says Polypheme, " that I may eat 
 him last of all!"* 
 
 Z. 
 
 294 — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 27 th January, 1830. 
 Testeedat we had our first Carnival Opera, The 
 Siege of Oorimth, music by Rossini, whom the German 
 critics, for the last fifteen years, have wearied themselves out 
 
 with writing down. The story is a strange jumble 
 
 The music is fresh and dashing, with powerful passages, 
 
 which go ofB like fireworks The dance music is so 
 
 charming, lively, and exciting, that it makes one want to 
 
 dance too 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 295. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 29th January, 1830, 
 As I now know that all Europe, as well as my 
 cloister-garden, levelled by the snow, has to get on as best 
 it may, I submit to it the more readily, that I am not called 
 upon to set foot outside my door. So on this bright night, 
 while Madam Venus is still clear, radiant, and lovely, 
 shining in the Western heavens, above the horns of the 
 young moon, and Orion with his dog and glittering neck- 
 lace, is rising gloriously from the Bast, over my horizon of 
 dark pine-trees, — ^inspired by all this, I will send you a 
 cheerful, friendly word to your busy, lamp-lit city, and, 
 before I do anything else, I will answer your last letter. 
 
 I observe that friends, particularly at our age, had better 
 not let any external event, which may be made the subject 
 
 * This is a quotation from Goethe. 
 C 
 
386 goethb's letters [1830. 
 
 of controversy, fall at once into limbo ; they onght rather 
 to go on considering it. For this reason, all that you say, 
 relating to the Aristotelian point in question,* is most 
 welcome to me, as it forms a most perfect commentary on 
 your and my own convictions. Moreover, differences like 
 these are important, if only, because when closely examined, 
 the dispute does not concern merely one individual case, but 
 two distinct factions which stand opposed to one another, 
 two kinds of representations, opposing one another at 
 particular points, because they would fain set each other 
 aside ' entirely. We contend that a work of Art should 
 be perfect, in and of itself; otherp think of the outward 
 effect produced by it — a point, which the true artist does 
 not trouble himself about in the least ; as little as Nature 
 herself, when she produces a lion, or a humming-bird. 
 And even if we were only importing our own conviction 
 into Aristotle, we should be right, for it would be perfectly 
 correct, and proven, even without him ; let him who 
 chooses to do so, interpret the passage differently. 
 
 Following on what went before, let me tell you in 
 fun, that in my Wahlv&rwmidtschaften, I took care to round 
 off the inward, true Katharsis, with as much purity and 
 finish as possible, but I do not therefore imagine that any 
 pretty fellow could thereby be purged from the lust of 
 looking after the wife of another. The sixth commandment, 
 which seemed to the Elohim-Jehovah to be so necessary, 
 even in the wilderness, that he engraved it on granite 
 tables with His own finger, — this it will still be neces- 
 sary to uphold in our blotting-paper Catechisms. 
 
 Pardon this ! the subject is of such great importance, 
 that friends should ever take counsel with one another 
 about it ; nay, I go so far as to add, that an incalculable 
 service has been rendered by our old Kant to the World, 
 and I may say, to my own self, in that he has, in his Kritik 
 der TJrtheilshraft, placed Art and Nature side by side, and 
 admitted that both have the right to act from great prin- 
 ciples, independently of any aim. In the same way, 
 Spinoza, in earlier days, confirmed me in my abhorrence 
 of those absurd final causes. Nature and Art are too 
 
 * This refers to a difference of opinion between Goethe and Professor 
 Raumer, as to the meaning of a passage in Aristotle's Poetics. 
 
1830.] TO ZILTEE. 387 
 
 grand to go forth in pursuit of aims, nor is it necessary 
 that they should, for there are relations everywhere and 
 relations constitute life. 
 
 Hardly have I got so far, when another Berliner begins 
 
 a quarrel with me. For it seems that Herr S too wants 
 
 to win his spurs, by having a tilt at «ie. If only the good 
 people, who generally ignore me, when they are making use 
 of me, would also leave me in peace, when they cannot 
 make use of me, they might express their opinions as 
 powerfully and convincingly as they chose, and find as 
 many followers as they could. I have found that idea 
 absurd,* I have already said as much, and I shall say it 
 again. However, we must not let this astonish or annoy 
 us, for after all, there are still able ecclesiastics, who 
 interpret The Song of 8olomon,f of the sacred relationship 
 between Christ and His Bride, the Church. 
 
 I had occasion lately to look at the original again ; one 
 is always glad to be led to it. I have dictated a few pages 
 on this subject, which I shall probably send you, on condi- 
 tion that you do not show them to anyone. For who 
 would care to let himself in further, for this feeble, poverty- 
 stricken business ? 
 
 I repeat what I said above : Let us become more and 
 more convinced, that these differences indicate an immense 
 chasm, which separates men from one another ; nay, not 
 one chasm, but many chasms, which in our younger days 
 we leapt across, or bridged over, but which in maturer 
 age, must be looked upon as given to us for the strengthen- 
 ing of our position. 
 
 I have — it is true — carefuUy to raise my drawbridges, 
 and am constantly pushing my fortifications further for- 
 ward ; you, on the other hand, have to keep constantly on 
 the field, and after your own fashion, to fight your way 
 through in the given direction, and this suits you so well, 
 that one cannot wish it were otherwise. And besides, you 
 reap from it great and iuestimable enjoyment, which the 
 rest of us are unfortunately shut out from. . . r . 
 
 * See GoeMs Werke, vol. xlv. p. 1 13. 
 
 + Goethe had made a free translation of The Song of Solomon, in his 
 youth. In a letter to Merck, he calls it " the most splendid collection 
 of love lyrics that God has made." 
 
388 ' GOETHE'S LETTEBS [1830. 
 
 I have not been able to continue reading Bonrrienne; 
 he is always plucking at the freshly embroidered Imperial 
 mantle, which was so soon cast aside, thinking to elevate 
 himself thereby, — ^just as Bottiger rejoiced, when the Doge 
 of Venice was deposed, as if his leader had died, and he 
 were now to be promoted. 
 
 I would not exactly advise you to take in hand the more 
 recent History of Prance, by Bignon, though the author is 
 a genuine and thorough Napoleonist ; as a diplomatist of 
 many years standing, he has had the opportunity of seeing 
 deeper than most men into the leading causes and eSects. 
 All this may pass muster, like the efforts of astronomers, 
 whose observations and calculations we will not find fault 
 with, inasmuch as, at all events, they bring us a little 
 nearer to the idea of the Incomprehensible. 
 
 Thus ever, yours, 
 
 J. W. V. GOBTHB. 
 
 296. — Zeltbr to Goethe. 
 
 6th February, 1830. 
 .... I HAVE just read Corneille's Oinna, moved 
 thereto by your last letter, and at the same time by 
 Napoleon, who said, that he would have made OorneiUe a 
 prince, had the poet lived under him. To be sure, Girma 
 is one of the crowns of French Tragedy. .... 
 
 Z. 
 
 297. — Goethe to Zbltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 15th February, 1830. 
 
 " As to the title of my life's confidences — Wahrheit 
 wnd Bichtung — which is certainly somewhat paradoxical, 
 I adopted it, because my experience is, that the public 
 always entertains some doubt as to the truthfulness of 
 such biographical efforts. To meet this, I acknowledged 
 to having written a kind of fiction, driven to it, to some 
 extent unnecessarily, by a certain spirit of contradiction. 
 For it was my most earnest endeavour, as far as possible, 
 
1830.] TO ziLTBE. 889 
 
 to represent and express the genuine, fundamental truth, 
 which, as far as I could see into it, had prevailed through- 
 out my life. But if such a thing is not possible in later 
 years, without the co-operation of memory, and therefore 
 of the imaginative faculty, so that in one way or other, we 
 never fail to exercise the poetic gift, then it is clear, that 
 we shall present, and bring into relief the results, and the 
 past as it seems to us now, rather than the individual 
 events, as they happened then. For does not the most 
 ordinary chronicle necessarily embody something of the 
 spirit of the time in which it was written ? Will not 
 the fourteenth century hand down the tradition of a comet 
 more ominously than the nineteenth ? Nay, in the same 
 town you may hear one version of a striking event in the 
 morning, and another in the evening. 
 
 Under the word Bichtwag, I comprised all that belongs 
 to the narrator and the narrative, so that I could make 
 use of the truth, of which I was conscious, for my own 
 ends. Whether I have attained them, I leave to the 
 generous reader to determine, for then the question arises, 
 Is what has been related consistent ? Does it give an idea 
 of the gradual development of a personality, already well 
 known through his works ? 
 
 In every History, even if it be written diplomatically, 
 we always see the nation, the party, to which the writer 
 belonged, peering through. The French speak of English 
 History in a very, different tone to that of the English 
 themselves ! 
 
 I was lately very much struck by this, in the memoirs 
 of the Due de St. Simon ; you cannot fully enjoy the 
 detailed reports of this highly educated and truth-loving 
 man, unless you remember, that they are written by a Duo 
 and a Pair. It is the reflection of a period, in which grand 
 people find less to win, than they must fear to lose. 
 
 I felt it my duty to write the above, dearest Friend, in 
 reply to a question very much like yours, which was put to 
 me by one whom I highly honour ; I give you the answer 
 I gave him, as it is to the point in both instances. Re- 
 member that with every breath we draw, an ethereal 
 stream of Lethe runs through our whole being, so that 
 we have but a partial recollection of our joys, and scarcely 
 
390 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 any of our sorrows. I have always known how to value, 
 profit by, and enhance the use of this precious gift of God. 
 
 Therefore, by the time it is a question of the cuffs and 
 thumps, with which Fate, our lady-loves, our friends and 
 foes have put us to the proof, the recollection of such 
 things has — ^in the mind of a good and resolute man — ^long 
 ago vanished into air. 
 
 It would be difficult, nay, impossible for me to specify 
 any particular instance, as you request;* still, to please 
 you, I bethink myself that our schoolmaster used to wield, 
 as an emblem of majesty, a flexible ruler, which was other- 
 wise not unserviceable, and with which he dealt occasional 
 whacks, by way of punishment or encouragement. Tet 
 even in those days of vigorous pedagogues, a humanizing 
 means of information had been discovered, foreshadowing 
 that, which since Beccaria's time, has had so gracious an 
 influence on our Criminal Code, — for those who were to be 
 punished, were made to hold out a hand, and submit again 
 and again to canings more or less severe. This gave one 
 an opportunity of boldly stretching out one's hand, like 
 Mucins Scaevola, and gaining an heroic martyr's wreath, 
 without moving a muscle of one's face. Now, whatever 
 may be the prospect of your winning or losing the dozen 
 of champagne, I wish to bring forward my testimony, to 
 the best of my recollection, with the greatest show of 
 Truth (Wahrlieit), and leaving Poetry (Diohhimg') out of the 
 account entirely. 
 
 We had got thus far, when a sorrow,t which indeed we 
 had feared, though hope deferred it, came upon us ; the 
 news of this has already reached you, and my black seal, 
 alas ! confirms it. As you share in all our thoughts and 
 
 feelings, it wiU give you much to ponder over 
 
 Always your most constant friend, 
 
 J. W. V. GOETHB. 
 
 * Much discussion had been raised among some of Zelter's friends, 
 about the interpretation of a passage in Wahrheii tmd Bichiunff, which 
 might, or might not mean, that Goethe himself had, as a boy, received 
 " outs and thumps " from the schoolmaster, in his own person. Zelter 
 laid a bet of a dozen of cham^gne, that this was not so. 
 
 t The death of the Grand Duchess Luise. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTBE. 391 
 
 298. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 4th March, 1830. 
 
 .... Once more I sat out Spontini's Opera, 
 Ol/ympia ; from first to last, it takes up nearly four hours. 
 It is wearisome to endure so much in the enjoyment of so 
 meritorious a work of Art ; I cannot justify it, nor can I 
 Ist it alone. What I learn from it is, that confessedly I 
 cannot live without music. Your metaphor about the silk- 
 worm in Tasso * went right through me, each time I heard 
 it. I recognize myself 
 
 Yesterday evening I happened to pass by the Theatre, 
 and went in, without knowing what the play was. It was 
 ImiUa Galotti. Now that is a Tragedy according to the 
 rales of Aristotle. Father and mother wretched ; bride- 
 groom and bride wretched ; a wretched prince ; a love-lorn 
 kdy, cast ofE and wretched too ; a wretched painter ; 
 Marinelli, a ragamuffin — all lying against one another and 
 tlie world. There's the thmkmg artist for you ! . . . . 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 Z. 
 
 299. — Goethe to Zeltib. 
 
 Weimar, 7th March, 1830. 
 .... I HAVE laid aside the French Memoirs, for a 
 time, as well as Le Globe and Le Temps. For it does strike 
 one now and then, that all this does not concern one in the 
 least, that about the past one probably knows as much as 
 anyone else, and that one is neither the wiser nor the better 
 
 for knowing what the day brings forth 
 
 I have been unceasingly engaged for the last two months 
 upon a work which gives me pleasure, and is meant to 
 please you all as well ; I am drawing fresh breath for it, 
 
 * Go tell the silkworm, he should cease to spin. 
 When ever nearer death he spins himself ! 
 Erom his most secret being he unfolds 
 The costly woof, and never doth he rest. 
 Till in his coffin he himself hath sealed. 
 
 Torguato Tasso, act v. scene 2. 
 
392 goethb's letters [1830. 
 
 and hope to get it finished before Easter, so that I may 
 once more burden myself with some new business.* .... 
 
 Ton are quite right not to give up your conception of 
 Napoleon ; it has cost us too much to get thus far, for us 
 to abandon it for the sake of fools. It is therefore more 
 interesting for us to read Les Memoires de Bignon, an earnest 
 diplomatist, who knows how to appreciate the hero and 
 ruler, who worked in accordance with his great aims, and 
 who remembers the achievements of the past in a prope^ 
 spirit. J 
 
 I am dictating this to the solemn tolling of bells, sum/ 
 moning people to the funeral service in the church ; this is 
 enough to make you realize my state of mind. The poetic 
 confederates of Weimar too, have agreed to celebrate th^ 
 event quietly, in their weekly paper (^Ohaos), which is 
 familiar to you. I enclose you a copy; you will read il 
 
 sympathetically 
 
 Now and henceforward, 
 
 J. W. T. GoiTHB 
 
 800. — Goethe to Ziltee, ' 
 
 Weimar, 27th March, 1830. j 
 .... Do not let your clear and peculiar affini^ 
 with DmiUa Galotti be spoOed for you. This piece aroae 
 in its day, from out of the deluge of Gottsched, Gellert, and 
 Weisse, as the island of Delos did, that it might com- 
 passionately receive a goddess in labour. We young folks 
 took courage from it, and so became greatly indebted to 
 Lessing. 
 
 In the present stage of culture, it can no longer be in- 
 fluential. If we look into it narrowly, we respect it, as we 
 do a mummy, because it gives us a proof of the high and 
 ancient dignity of the person preserved. 
 
 But now I should like to lead you into temptation, and 
 recommend you to read a little book which you are sure to 
 have heard of — L'Ane mort et la Fenvme guillotmee. The 
 gay and talented young Frenchmen imagine that they can 
 
 * Goethe had been devoting himself entirely to the completion of Die 
 Classische Walpv/rgis-lHacht, 
 
1830.] TO ZELTBR. 393 
 
 fix a limit to the miserable genre of horrible, revolting 
 plays and romances, by ingeniously outdoing them. Herein 
 they fail to see, that they are whetting the public appetite 
 for works of that kind, and making the need of them felt 
 more vividly. 
 
 I will add nothing further, except my hope, that after 
 reading this little volume, you will find your wild Berlin 
 quite idyllic. 
 
 And so for ever.* 
 Or. 
 
 .... My kindest remembrances to Felix, whose arrival 
 you tell me of. I say nothing about it here, in order that 
 the pleasure of seeing him again may be enhanced by the 
 surprise. 
 
 As ever and everywhere, 
 G. 
 
 301. — Zeltib to Goethe. 
 
 12tli AprU, 1830. 
 .... Last week Mademoiselle Sontag made her 
 first appearance as Desdemona, in Rossini's Othello, at the 
 Grand Opera. I have already spoken highly of her to you, 
 and I don't want to retract anything In short every- 
 thing about her, from head to foot — even her very dress — is 
 song. This is Baster-tide, and as in the interim, on Palm 
 Sunday and Good Friday, I have conducted two versions 
 of the Passion Music, I have had plenty to do. Herewith I 
 wished to satisfy, as far as I could, two sections of my 
 good Berliners, by puttiag forward, within short intervals 
 of one another, in one week, side by side, two genuine 
 German, religious composers ; J. S. Bach, whom people 
 here compare to Calderon, and 0. S. Graun, whom his 
 friends compare to Tasso. Each performance had its special 
 public. The Tod Jem is especially dear to those, who have 
 received the Communion on Good Friday, and Bach's 
 Passion attracts persons, who understand something more 
 than the general public ; I wanted to show both parties 
 the mutual relationship of two original German geniuses — 
 
 * These words are in English, in the original. 
 
394 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 one of whom formed himself entirely upon Italian models, 
 nay, generally worked upon Italian texts, while the other 
 never went out of Germany, and as far as I know, never 
 set any Italian piece ; — naturally they are distinguished 
 frem each other, one by depth, another by clearness, while 
 in fertility they are equal ; both however, with regard to 
 the Gcmtilena, where they speak to us on common ground, 
 are genuinely Italian, i.e. natural. 
 
 Yesterday, after following tb the grave my oldest friend, 
 who died at the age of ninety, I went straight ofi to Mozart's 
 Figaro, and found the charming Sontag as brilliant and 
 
 delightful a Susanna as possible Her special charm 
 
 to me was this, that by her natural gift she divines, how 
 this Opera, as I feel it, differs from Mozart's other works, 
 by the style of intrigue m the inusic. One finds this style, 
 perhaps in the single pieces of any other Italian composer 
 — Cimarosa, Gretry too, and others — but here it starts 
 at once with the Symphony, pervading the whole action, 
 and this seems to me to be new. 
 
 Telix had a letter from me to you, but the measles have 
 detained him here ; I commissioned him to let the letter 
 go to you, and I hope it has arrived. They say here, that 
 your son August is going with Eckermann to Italy ; I 
 wish him a safe arrival, lovely weather, and an eruption of 
 
 Vesuvius 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 302. — Zeltee to Gobthb. 
 
 16th April, 1830. 
 .... I HAVE just come back again from Rossini's 
 Othello; Spontini took me to the Opera-house in his 
 carriage. He too, (like all the critics,) is tooth and nail 
 against this Opera. He affirms, that there are hardly six 
 bars suitable to the acbion ; that it is a Oharivari, a 
 OaUmathias, no dignity, no strength, no sense, and all 
 the rest of it. For his justification, I had again read 
 right through Shakespeare's Othello, to -stamp lipon my 
 mind the cruel effect of jealousy in a moral " depolarity," 
 as I might call it, so I do not openly confute Rossini's 
 enemies. I observe a discreet silence, for the thing is 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEE. 395 
 
 quite sui generis In a word, I cannot find fault 
 
 with it, even if I were forced to go yet again ; nay, if 
 that most senseless play, the Opera, with its songs and 
 dances, is to have its own place, in mirth and gravity, then 
 is Rossini, to me alone, a bom man of Operas, for I have 
 been charmed, and — so have all the others too, against 
 their will. The clapping, shouting, and calling went on 
 and on, and the house was full, and beside itself with 
 enthusiasm. Finally, I agree with Kossini himself, that 
 he is a man of genius, and besides that, he handles his 
 
 tools well 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 303. — Zeltbb to Goethe. 
 
 18th April, 1830. 
 .... Madame Milder, on her journey to St. Peters- 
 burg, passed by Reval, and assisted at the celebration of 
 the eightieth birthday of our Elizabeth Mara. That ancient 
 nightingale still pipes, and cannot give it up ; she teaches 
 singing, and is true to the words she said to me, " I shall 
 die, when I no longer sing." .... 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 304. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 22nd April, 1830. 
 The following extract has, by way of justification, 
 been reprinted in our paper, from the Allgemeine lAteratur- 
 zeitung of Halle : — 
 
 " Herr von Goethe's dedication to the King of Bavaria,* 
 which prefaced the last part of the Correspondence with 
 Schiller, published by him, is an indirect reproach to 
 those German Princes, who were Schiller's contemporaries ; 
 it leaves us to infer, that that poet found amongst them 
 no patron, through whose favour his existence might 
 have been brightened, and his intellectual activity kept 
 
 * The King of Bavaria had been very kind to the poet, and had sent 
 his own painter, Stieler, to take his portrait. Goethe naturally wished 
 to express his feelings in poetry, but finding himself unable to do so, 
 availed himself of the prose Dedication instead. 
 
396 Goethe's lettees [1830. 
 
 alive longer than it actually was, for the Fatherland. In 
 order to remove this reproach, at all events from His 
 Majesty, the King of Prussia, my most gracious master, 
 and with a feeh'ng, which all my compatriots will share 
 with me, I venture to bring before the public the fact, 
 only known to me in my official capacity, that our beloved 
 King, when Schiller had expressed a wish to settle in 
 Berlin, and had come to Potsdam for that purpose, assured 
 to him of his own motion, a yearly income of three thousand 
 Thalers, with free use of a royal carriage.* It was only 
 the poet's subsequent illness, and early death, that de- 
 prived the generous Monarch, and our own more narrow 
 Fatherland, of the distinguished honour of counting in 
 Schiller one more illustrious Prussian." 
 " Berlin, 27th March, 1830." 
 
 "v. Betmb." 
 
 The thing was certainly known to me, and others besides, 
 even though not officially, and if only out of respect for 
 my dear patron, Beyme, then Geh. Oabmetsrath, I will 
 testify, that he took up Schiller's cause zealously and pro- 
 voked discussion about it. But obstacles were not wanting. 
 The Xenien wrung the Academic withers of the gentlemen 
 of the Guild. Hufeland and Fichte, honest and downright, 
 had not yet taken root. Schiller was esteemed, and 
 Kotzebue read, enjoyed, encored. Groodwill was to 
 anticipate the deed ; Schiller was to take it all on credit 
 (zw Gute) ; money down (schlechtweg gut) would have suited 
 him better, and — meanwhile the grass grows — well, that 
 proverb one knows well enough ! 
 
 Who that is living now can picture to himself the 
 political-poetic-prophetic anarchy of that time, — the time 
 of Die Jungfrau von Orlecms ? Each individual was then 
 
 * " A rich man, one day, threw from his window, a bank-note for a 
 considerable amount, to a poet, who was passing that way, with the 
 words, ' There, take it ! ' The note was immediately carried away by 
 the wind. ' Many thanks, if only I catch it ! ' said the poet." 
 
 " From the Iwp of the Immortals,— from the clouds doth fortwie fall. 
 And the moment, now and ever, is the strongest lord of all." 
 
 This, [Die Gvmst des Augmbticks, and Schiller's TheiVmig der Erde too,) 
 I have, in its time, set to music, with bitter tears." — Note by Zelter, 
 
1830.] TO ZELTBK. 397 
 
 an object of suspicion to his neighbour, and if men like 
 Johannes Miiller seemed to attract and repel at the same 
 time, who then was to be trusted ? Why, the all-powerful 
 Beyme even, — because he did not want the war, they did 
 
 not want hi/m 
 
 Z. 
 
 305. — GoBTHB TO Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 29tli April, 1830. 
 I HAVE no reply to make to that publication. Alas ! 
 it only renews my old grief, that this most excellent man 
 should, up to his forty-fifth year, have been left to himself, 
 to the Duke of Weimar, and to his publisher, — whereby, no 
 doubt, he was able to secure a moderate subsistence, though 
 only a very limited one ; only at the very last was a pro- 
 posal made, to offer him a wider sphere, which would not 
 even at an earlier date have been suitable, but when 
 proposed, was hopelessly impracticable. 
 
 By the way, let me tell you a queer thing, viz. that 
 after a severe but swift resolve, I have given up all 
 newspaper reading, and am content with what I gather 
 from social intercourse. This is of the greatest impor- 
 tance ; for when carefully considered, it is mere Philistinism 
 on the part of private individuals, to bestow too much 
 interest upon matters that do not concern them. 
 
 During the six weeks that I have left all the !French and 
 German newspapers lying in their wrappers, it is incredible, 
 what an amount of time I have gained, and what work I 
 have got through. 
 
 The last volumes of my works are now in the hands of the 
 printers, and the most urgent letters and the answers to 
 them have almost all been attended to. And now I may 
 whisper in your ear, that I have the happiness of finding »/ 
 that at my advanced age, thoughts arise within me, for the 
 following out and practical realization of which, it might be 
 well worth whUe, to live one's life over again. Therefore, as 
 long as it is day, we will not occupy ourselves with Allotria. 
 
 One, Dr. Lautier, an able man, has sent me a little book, 
 with a pamphlet and an explanatory letter, from which I 
 can plainly see, that the good man has likewise bravely 
 
398 _ gobthe's letters [1830. 
 
 attacked the problems that have engaged the world, ever 
 since it had any thoughts at all. As he refers me to you, 
 pray giye him my kindest regards. Unfortunately. I dare 
 not meddle with things in the abstract ; I have so much of 
 the conorefte upon me, that I have to drag along anyhow. 
 There is nothing more natural, than that such a man, who 
 wants to penetrate into the depths that have to be fathomed, 
 in his own way, should have to make his own language for 
 himself. It will, at first, be a wearisome task for anyone 
 else to understand it, although, if fortune be kind, he will 
 be rewarded in the end. But now, have the goodness to 
 send me the most realistic work in the world, the Red 
 Book for the two Bioyal Residences — Berlin and Potsdam 
 — the newest edition that can be got. I occasionally come 
 across the local authorities, and after carefully attending 
 to the contents of my letters, I do not want to neglect the 
 proper formalities. 
 
 And thus ever, 
 G. 
 
 306. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 28th AprUj 1830. 
 
 Again we have finished ofE Haydn's OreaUon, and 
 
 again we have not exhausted it. Everything that can be 
 
 called a Musical Director by name, standing, and dignity, 
 
 assembled upon this occasion, to, solemnize the work, under 
 
 Spontini, as chief commander 
 
 As we are talking about Schiller, and I find, on my 
 return from the Theatre, your letter of the 29th, I may as 
 well tell you, that I have just seen Oahale und Liebe again. 
 What electrical power that play had over me, and over all 
 the impetuous youth of that time, fifty years ago, you can 
 -well imagine. He who can look back upon it from that 
 time, will not reckon it so low as Moritz did in those 
 days ; he was right enough indeed, but he did not suspect 
 the coming on of the Revolution. The play belongs to that 
 time, and is so far an historical piece, full of power and 
 mind, in spite of the low company at war with each other 
 therein. This, and Die Bduber, it was reported had 
 endangered Schiller's success, by the personal allusions 
 
1830.] TO ZELTER. 399 
 
 contained in them. Tou might call these two plays the 
 Chaos of the Sohillerian Creation. 
 
 As yon will hardly read to the two hundred and eighth 
 page of Dr. Lautier's System of Thorough-Bass, let me 
 recommend you to read the last fourteen lines of that page, 
 for they say what the whole book means, — which indeed 
 
 can be understood of itself 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 Enclosuek. 
 
 " On the conclusion of Haydn's Oratorio, The Creation, 
 in which the respective members of the Singakademie, 
 led by the excellent Zelter, especially distinguished them- 
 selves, Spontini, turning to the latter, addressed him 
 warmly in these terms : ' Je salue avec respect' le digne 
 Nestor de la musique Prussienne et sa vaillante et unique 
 Academic de chant, qu'il a bien voulu confier a ma direction 
 et aupres de laquelle je le prie d'etre I'interprete de mes 
 sentimens pour elle.' Undoubtedly these few but earnest 
 words do as much honour to the veteran of music, as, on 
 the part of the speaker, they are in complete contrast to 
 the rumours, constantly circulated by some persons, to the 
 effect that Spontini has no reverence for what is great, and 
 does not give it full recognition." — From the Berliner 
 Courier, &o., by M. G. Saphir, 1830, No. 973, p. 4. 
 
 307. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 ,10th May, 1830. 
 .... I HAVE now heard Mademoiselle Sontag 
 three times in Othello. I wanted to see if she was always 
 mistress of the situation. She was as different as three 
 
 days of the week, and yet she was always Desdemona 
 
 Unhappily the sweet creature is about to become a countess; 
 what a pity ! 
 
 Felix, to whom I have given a letter for you, has been on 
 the point of starting, from day to day. On Friday he 
 played another Concerto of old Bach's at my house, like a 
 
400 goithe's letters [1830, 
 
 true master; the Concerto is as difficult as it is beautiful, 
 and it was good enougli for old Bach himself to listen to. 
 I am getting impatient for the time, when the lad will 
 get away to Italy, out of the wild jingling of Berlin ; in 
 my judgment, he ought to have gone there at the begin- 
 ning. There the stones have ears, here they eat lentils with 
 pigs' ears ! . . . . 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z, 
 
 308. — Goethe to Zeltbb. 
 
 Weimar, 3rd June, 1830. 
 
 A FEW minutes ago, at half -past nine this morning, 
 the excellent Felix left for Jena, with Ottilie, Ulrike, and 
 the children, favoured by the clearest weather, and the 
 brightest sunshine, after having spent a happy fortnight 
 with us, and delighted everyone with his finished, lovable 
 art; there too he will charm his sympathetic friends, 
 leaving behind in our neighbourhood, a remembrance which 
 wUl ever be held in high honour. To me his presence was 
 especially beneficial, for I found that my relation to music 
 is still the same as ever ; I listen to it with pleasure, and 
 meditative interest, and I love the historical part of it. 
 Who can understand any kind of phenomenon, if he is not 
 thoroughly imbued with the course of its development down 
 to the present time ? The great thing for me was, that 
 Felix un&erstood this progressive advancement very com- 
 mendably, and happily his excellent memory brings before 
 him at will every kind of specimen. Beginning with the 
 Bach epoch, he brought Haydn, Mozart, and Gluck to 
 life again for me, gave me an adequate idea of the great 
 masters of technique in more modem times, and lastly, 
 made me feel and ponder over his own compositions ; so 
 he parted from me with my fervent blessing. 
 
 All this I have written ofE to you in hot haste, that I 
 may challenge you to a fresh letter. Pray, say the very 
 best you can, in words that mean something, to the worthy 
 parents of this extraordinary young artist; give a kiudly 
 disposed botanical friend the enclosed note, and think of me 
 as of a friend, who is not indeed always at his ease, though 
 
1830.] TO ZBMEE. 401 
 
 still ever earnestly, nay, passionately active and aspiring. 
 He gladly edifies himself with tlie example that you give 
 him. 
 
 And thus as ever, yours, 
 
 G. 
 
 309.— Zeitbb to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 15th June, 1830. 
 The tender, fatherly affection, with which you have 
 honoured our Felix, has exalted his parents and brothers 
 and sisters into the seventh heaven. I thank you as I can ; 
 it will be a lifelong joy to him. At times I grow frightened, 
 when I look at the course of the boy's life. Up to the 
 present time, he has met with scarcely a contradiction. 
 As a pupil, I have not over-estimated him, nor found it 
 necessary to praise him, although I can only view with 
 complacency his natural obedience, and the instinct that 
 he has, of busying himself mentally, when he is not forced 
 to do anything; nay, I dare think of myself as having 
 taught him the truth, as I recognize it in the second and 
 third power, making up the fall sum. He takes away with 
 him from here a complete system, upon which he can build 
 what genius inspires him with, and if he continues to 
 
 develope in this way, he must think of his teacher 
 
 A letter from Felix to his parents has just arrived from 
 Munich, where he has had capital introductions. The 
 lad still revels in the happiness that fell to his lot at 
 Weimar and at Jena. 
 
 Farewell ! Yours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 310. — Goethe to Zbltib. 
 
 Weimar, 8th July, 1830. 
 .... I MUST tell you, that Felix has recalled his 
 delightful presence to our minds, by a very charming letter 
 from Munich, in which he discusses that strange place with 
 great judgm.ent. His special friend there was the Court- 
 painter, Stieler, who when painting my portrait, during a 
 stay of more than eight weeks here, became quite one of 
 ourselves. It is pleasant to learn, what such a man, at 
 
 D D 
 
402 gobthe's letters [1830. 
 
 such a time, and under such circumstances, regarded as 
 profitable. Furthermore, I suppose I must have told you 
 already, that my son and Dr. Eckermann started for the 
 South, the end of April. My son's journals on the way as 
 far as Milan, and thence to Venice, testify to his clear 
 views of worldly matters, his thoughtful activity in learn- 
 ing to know and to be friends with men and things. The 
 great advantage that this will be, to him and to us, is, 
 that he will get to know himself, and learn what he is 
 worth, far better than he was able to, in our simple and 
 limited surroundings. In all this you will give him your 
 
 blessing 
 
 Most sincerely yours, 
 G. 
 
 311. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 18th July, 1830. 
 .... All success to your Student Chorus ! I can 
 quite imagine, that more modern listeners, who care for 
 nothing but sentimental drawling and murmuring, should 
 find a vigorous style of song which lifts the heart and 
 splits the roof, detestable ; their Choral singing is never 
 anything else but Sin laues Bad ist wiser Thee, (Owr tea is 
 all a lukewa/rm, hath,} and then they imagine nevertheless 
 that they have something of eine feste Burg, (a Strong- 
 hold sure,) and that a " God " of some kind or other is 
 
 troubling himself about them 
 
 I should like to add thus much about my son : he is 
 looking about him with much quiet observation, and writing 
 diaries full of detail, which is after all the main thing, for 
 the objects themselves disappear, and impressions vanish. 
 He went from Milan, after he had thoroughly explored the 
 city and its environs, by way of Brescia, Verona, and 
 Padua, to Venice ; there too he rummaged about famously, 
 and then went back to Milan, by way of Mantua, Cremona, 
 and Lodi. There he picked up what he had left behind 
 him, and made the acquaintance of your Professor Ranch ; 
 they liked each other, and started together for Genoa, about 
 the 6th of July. Eckermann has accompanied him hitherto, 
 and will do so further. My son is truly the very model of 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEE. 403 
 
 a realistic Traveller, and now he feels for the first time, 
 how much knowledge he has sucked in. He has shown 
 his judgment too in purchasing, at a moderate price, for my 
 collection of medals, — especially those cast in the fifteenth 
 and sixteenth centuries, — nearly a hundred very valuable 
 specimens ; these, to my great delight, have already reached 
 me safely. 
 
 What I have promised you in the way of books and 
 papers will be sent by coach, and herewith, Herr Doctor, 
 I remain, 
 
 Tour truly attached, 
 G. 
 
 312. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 13th August, 1830. 
 .... To save the post, I will conclude, enclosing 
 herewith an account of my installation as a/rtium, liheralium 
 inagister — a compliment not of my own seeking, but freely 
 and ungrudgingly bestowed. Next day there was a banquet 
 at Tivoli, every man paying for himself. There were plenty 
 of toasts ; at last it came to the turn of the newly-made 
 Doctors. I was the only one present, the others had left 
 Berlin, and I had to make the speech. In the ecstasy of 
 my gratitude, and full of sweet wine, I must have ex- 
 pressed myself peculiarly, for everyone laughed through 
 all the octaves ; my speech was something like this : " In 
 the name of my absent and worthy colleagues, I thank you 
 sincerely ; as regards myself, the honoured persons who 
 have conferred on me such dignities as I now enjoy, will 
 have to be responsible for it to God." 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
 313. — Zeltee to Gobthb. 
 
 27th August, 1830, 
 .... Fob the first time for several months, I 
 went ■ yesterday to the Theatre. Sams Sachs* a play by 
 
 * Two years before. Count BriiM had asked Goethe's permission to 
 use his poem, Hans Sachsens poetische Sendung, as a Prologue to Dein- 
 
404 Goethe's lettbes [1830. 
 
 Deinhardstein, is rather well given here; the poet has 
 very cleverly contrasted the position of a mechanic, who, in 
 addition to his craft, has acquired intellectual distinction, 
 with that of other citizens and artisans. In the main, the 
 ordinary citizen is quite right, and in particular instances, 
 it is just the same with them, as with the higher and the 
 highest classes. Ton too have expressed yourself satis- 
 factorily upon the subject, and experience this more and 
 more every day. But you must feel glad that you suggested 
 this pretty play, by your honourable mention of the ancient 
 father of German poets. The house was not full, but the 
 play had a good effect — on me at any rate, if not to such 
 an extent on any other of the audience. 
 
 One of our young musicians in the Orchestra had com- 
 posed music for the Entr'actes, which seemed to me quite 
 charming, if only because it does not attempt to say what it 
 cannot. Many composers of this class will repeat after 
 the end of an Act the very thing we are glad to be quit of, 
 or else they betray beforehand, what is to come, tormenting 
 the ear with. strains which it cannot understand. Conse- 
 quently, the value of a piece of music, which falls into its 
 right place, and fills up the given time successfully, is 
 untold. 
 
 Tours ever, 
 
 Z. 
 
 314. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 26th September, 1S30. 
 .... I HAVE no comfort to give you about musical 
 matters ; I rub on in my old way, and let the rest of the 
 world wag. Herr Marx or Markus, not the Evangelist, 
 although in the Musihalische Zeitung he preaches the new 
 doctrine of bunglers, brought me greetings from Felix, 
 who is at Munich ; this is understood of itself, as there 
 is no good understanding between me and the bearer. 
 This Marx has just published in quarto a Kunst des Gesanges, 
 
 hardstein's play. It may safely be conjectured, that the musical Hans 
 Sachs of our day would make the revival of the Berlin play a hazardous 
 scheme for an Impresario, but the comparison would interest the disciples 
 of Wagner. 
 
1830.] TO ZBLTBR. 405 
 
 at which, by his own account, he has worked for nine 
 years, that he may end by making Italian music a grief to 
 the Germans. The work begins thus : " We now find our- 
 selves at the outset of a period in the Art of music, in 
 which Italian music fills all countries, Germany included, 
 almost making us forget what German Art and German 
 music are." If that were true, undoubtedly the best thing 
 the Germans could do, would be to compose music, that 
 would make us glad to forego the Italian. But the 
 attack on the excesses of the Italian style, as exemplified 
 in the once salv. ven. Castrati and other forgotten horrors, 
 is as stale as the whole doctrine of Marx. Have but talent, 
 my worthy Germans, and with that, go seek for ears and 
 eyes, feeling and stimulus ; foreign countries will do you no 
 harm ! Diirer, Hackert, Grothe, and many others besides, 
 strengthened and confirmed their talent in Italy, and he who 
 takes nothing thither, will bring nothing back. Handel, 
 Graun, Hasse, Mozart, made music wherever they were, 
 whether Scotch, Italian, Evangelical, it was all one to 
 them, — and the world is filled with what they did, and did 
 well. All honour to your German science — ye professorial 
 gentlemen — if you will only let music be music still ! 
 
 The quarrels over the new Berlin Hymn-Book are 
 still going on ; the truth may lie betwixt and between, 
 though each faction may be far from it. The Porst Hymn- 
 Book is certainly not enjoyable, unless one venerates the 
 sentiment, the earnestness, and the truth contained in it ; 
 the new Book, on the contrary, is neither a new one, nor 
 the old one, — nay, the very necessity of a new one just now 
 would be open to attack, when the inability to make a new 
 one is so candidly confessed. The cobbling and soling of 
 the old ox-hide verses is — however brave a name one 
 may attach to it — at best a green fig-leaf to the original 
 sin 
 
 To-day is the 5th of October, so I conclude in memory 
 of the prophet of St. Helena. 
 
 Farewell, and let me soon hear your voice again. 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
406 goethe s letters [1830. 
 
 315. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 ■Weimar, 5th October, 1830. 
 
 At a pleasant party lately, I compared you to a well- 
 built mill, which requires water to turn its wheel-works, 
 and must have plenty of corn, to prevent the stones from 
 rubbing against each other. Now although, as an organic 
 being, all this is your own, still you require a flood from 
 without for your m.ill- stream, and many customers ; the 
 Theatre and the ergo Mbamus may count among them. We 
 wish you the choicest wheat in the shape of teachable 
 pupils, whom you will not crush indeed, but — which is all 
 the more desirable — grind and discipline. Take this simile 
 in good part, for, according to Gall,* that sort of thing is 
 innate in me. 
 
 Latterly I have again been looking into Sterne's Tris- 
 tram, which made a great sensation in Germany, just at 
 the time when I was a wretched little fellow at school. As 
 years went on, my admiration for it increased, and it is 
 still increasing, for who, iu the year 1769, saw through 
 Pedantry and Philistinism so well, or described it so 
 cheerily ? As yet I have not found his equal in the wide 
 circle of letters. 
 
 Forgive me for thinking it important enough to tell you, 
 that this is Sunday morning, and that nothing from without 
 disturbs me; we have almost become accustomed of late 
 to the wild excesses of masses of people and mobs, and 
 marching bands too, we take for granted. It certainly 
 seems strange to me, after the lapse of nearly forty years, 
 to see a revival of the old uproarious tumults. 
 
 Since Herr von Henning was here, I have sent various 
 things to the Berlin JaTi/rhiicher ; my contributions have 
 been kindly received, and I recommend them to you, so that 
 you may know what I am about. I am again taken up 
 
 * Johann Joseph Gall, the craniologist and phrenologist, whose lec- 
 tures Goethe had attended in Halle. He was so much interested in the 
 subject, that when prevented from attending by illness, he prevailed 
 upon Gall to deliver the lectures, which he had missed, at his bedside. 
 " Gall's assertion, that Goethe was born for political oratory more than 
 for poetry, has much amused those who knew Goethe's dislike of 
 politics." See Lewes's Life of Goethe. 
 
1830.] TO ZBLTBB. 407 
 
 with Nature, the best of all objects for a contemplative 
 person like myself. The deeper one penetrates into her 
 domain, the truer she becomes. She, no doubt, energeti- 
 cally resists awkward, incompetent persons, but in order to 
 justify her sex, she yields to perseverance. 
 
 The Ocmupanella was published in the Ghaos ; * if you were 
 TO send me the music for it, we should get a glimpse of 
 fats and sharps again. The conclusion of the series for the 
 year, i.e. fifty -two pages, is close at hand. I encourage them to 
 go on ; it gives our little society occupation, and is of some 
 influence in many quarters. The title-page will have for a 
 vignette a plan of Weimar, drawn like a compass, with 
 points marking the places where the contributors reside. 
 
 My Frankfort patrons and friends sent me on my birth- 
 day a valuable silver goblet and several bottles of good 
 wiae, with some little verses, referring to the Oeneral-Beichte. 
 Thus it resounds hither and thither, and in the end an echo 
 comes back delightfully, now and again, to the sources 
 amongst the rocks. 
 
 Remember me to your dear young people, and cheer them 
 up as much as possible. 
 
 The above has been lying by me for several weeks past. 
 The shocks of the Paris earthquake have branched out 
 energetically through Europe; in Berlin too, you have 
 experienced a fever fit. All the skill of those who are 
 still proof, consists in making the single paroxysms harm- 
 less, and this gives us too plenty to do at every turn and 
 comer. If we can manage this, we shall again be quiet 
 for a time. I say no more. 
 
 Outside Troy mistakes a/re made, and inside Troy as well. 
 
 Beineke Fuchs. 
 
 G. 
 
 316. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 26th October, 1-830. 
 .... As a wind-up to the Royal wedding festi- 
 vities (of Prince Albrecht), they gave us at the Opera a 
 
 * Ottilie's weekly paper, for circulation among friends. It came out 
 eyery Sunday. See Letter 236, Note. 
 
408 goithb's lettbes [1830. 
 
 grand performance of Wilhelm Tell, en masque. The proper 
 WilheVm Tell was composed by Rossini for Paris ; It gave 
 offence however, on aoconnt of its revolutionary tendency, 
 so they (h) offered (hofirt) us a completely new and altered 
 text, and the Opera is now called Andreas Safer. No one 
 is supposed to notice this. Really they are just like littl 
 children, who fancy that no one can scent them out, if the; 
 keep their eyes shut. 
 
 What kind of a man Rossini is, will now be shown. Mj 
 reputation is at stake. If however the work pleases, 
 have won, because I affirm, that no poet can do him a: 
 harm, nor make an end of him. One of these days sonle 
 one will venture to adapt a Figaro to his Semiramis. . . , 
 
 Z. 
 
 317. — GOETHB TO ZbLTEE. 
 
 Weimar, 29th October, 183l|. 
 .... I AM glad you spoke kindly and gratefully 
 to Herr von Humboldt, about his ' observations respecting 
 my stay in Rome ; it gave me much to think of and [re- 
 member. He had a wonderful way of turning everything 
 inside out, merging himself in the local conditions, ind 
 observing me as I then was. I found there was every 
 reason to bring my inmost thought to bear on his remaiks, 
 and this has led me back to make all kinds of reflections 
 on myself. 
 
 How I should like again to go over all I have recognized 
 and known in your invaluable Museum, confess my igno- 
 rance, enrich and complete my ideas, but above all, gain for 
 myself this once some free enjoyment, unspoilt by Criticism 
 and History ! Reflection on a work of Art is a fine thing, 
 but praise must lead the way, and judgment follow. 
 
 Tour Art Exhibition is also a living proof that everyone 
 is busy and at work. Men with technical talent are always 
 being' born, and these are seldom without mind, even 
 though it may not predominate. Pray let me have a few 
 words about No. 392. It represents a royal pair in sor- 
 row. That is a curious subject. I like the three Holy 
 Kings adoring the Lord of the world, born in secret, and 
 His mother and foster-father, better and better, the oftener 
 
1830.] TO ZELTIE. 409 
 
 they are paintedi But I will not censure that which I 
 have no conception of. 
 
 Limited as I am, I have been obUged to open up special 
 paths, in order to get forward. Thus, for instance, I have 
 been studying pearl fishery, i.e. trying to find, out whether 
 one could possibly obtain a jewel from gaping shells and 
 haM-decayed matter ; and in this I succeeded. I have also 
 come into the possession of such drawings as I am not 
 likely to part with again all my life long. 
 
 eth November, 1830. 
 
 As to that branch of your Idedertafel,* you are not 
 dissatisfied with it, and I should say that these excellent 
 young people, in accordance with the advancing age, 
 naturally want to go forward also ; but whither ? That is 
 the question ! We others, as all our Songs prove, required 
 mirth within the bounds of sociability, and placed ourselves 
 in innocent opposition to the Philistines. They, it is true, 
 are neither conquered nor exterminated, but they no longer 
 come into consideration. The more modem boon compa- 
 nions seek their opponents on a higher stage, and it would 
 surprise me, if your pupils did not follow in Stranger's 
 footsteps. That certaiuly is a field where there is still 
 something to be done, and where they can outbid us, pro- 
 vided they have as much talent as the aforesaid. How- 
 ever, let us commend this, with much besides, to those 
 demons who have their fingers in every pie of this kind. 
 
 It does not surprise me, that Burger's talent is again 
 a matter of discussion ; he was decidedly gifted, and a 
 thorough German, but he had no foundation, and no taste, 
 
 * A second lAederiafel had been started in Berlin, in imitation of the 
 first, and the youthful members had come to Zelter, to ask him for the 
 original Songs. " If you want to be a mere shadow of us, you are no 
 good at all," said he, '' but if you want to look upon your affair as a good 
 sequel to a good thing, why then make your own Songs, or steal 
 them, as you can."— "This they did," (he continues;) "I myself wrote 
 some completely new Songs for them, and some of their fellow-members 
 
 have composed such good pieces, that one cannot but praise them 
 
 jSiey are vigorous young fellows, somewhat inclined to anarchy, but 
 really well.behaved, and well-disposed towards all that is beautiful, 
 though they are like my barometer, which is always dancing up to, and 
 down from Fair Weather, without ever coming to Settled." 
 
410 goethb's lbttees [1830. 
 
 and lie was as flat as his public. Certainly, as a yonng 
 enthusiast, I contributed much to his success before the 
 world, but at last a shudder used to come over me, when a 
 well-educated Court-lady, in the height of neglige, raptu- 
 rously declaimed his FroM Fvps, or Fwps, or whatever the 
 name may be. It became rather dangerous to continue the 
 addresses one had begun to pay her, even though in other 
 respects she seemed quite charming and seductive. Schiller 
 indeed confronted him abruptly with his ideally polished 
 mirror, and here we may take Biirger's part ; yet Schiller 
 could not possibly endure such commonplace near him, for 
 his own aim was different, and moreover he attained it. 
 
 It cost me nothing to recognize Biirger's talent ; it was 
 anyhow remarkable in its day, and anything genuine and 
 true in it will always be acknowledged, and mentioned 
 with honour, in the History of G-erman Literature. 
 
 It lies in the nature of the thing, that the contents of 
 our six little volumes,* which you have been devouring, 
 should delight as well as grieve you to the quick at the same 
 time. Now if you consider that Schiller departed this life 
 just at the right time, leaving us burdened with the period 
 from 1806 onwards, you will have plenty of food for reflec- 
 tion, for it weighed heavily enough upon you also. 
 
 My Farlenlehre was printed up to about the tenth sheet ; 
 the papers belonging to it were the first that I saved. 
 Strangely enough, it was found that someone else had also 
 sought out the same asylum for important things, and re- 
 moved what I had saved. So it was rescued over again. I 
 found myself enabled, using my best judgment, to publish the 
 entire work four years afterwards, and even now there is 
 not much in it that I should care to alter. What had to be 
 supplemented, I have inserted elsewhere ; perhaps no one 
 yet knows exactly what to make of it. 
 
 In giving those particulars, I expressed myself to the 
 effect, that since Schiller's death we have not ceased to exert 
 ourselves in a thousand different ways, up to the present 
 day, which also, after its own fashion, brings its own 
 burdens. 
 
 Forgive me this strange leap-frog manner ; else there is 
 
 * The Correspondence between, Goethe and Schiller. 
 
1830.] Tto ZELTEE. 411 
 
 ( 
 
 no talk, no diversion. I let you do tlie same, without 
 much deliberation. The great thing after all is only, 
 Forwards ! 
 
 G. 
 
 318. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 2nd November, 1830. 
 .... A CEETAi!^ Madame Birch- Pfeiffer ingratiated 
 herself with me the day before yesterday, by her acting as 
 Countess Orsina (in Lessing's Emilia Galotti), and I shall be 
 very glad to see her again. The objection I have never ceased 
 to feel in my inmost heart, from old times, to the chief 
 character in this well-known Tragedy, has now been brought 
 into tragical agreemejat with the rest, by this Madame Birch- 
 Pf eifer aforesaid. Jrom her first appearance in the Fourth 
 Act, until she accomplanies Claudia, the mother, to Guastalla, 
 she makes herself an object of deep sympathy, as an Italian, 
 as a lover, — nay, as almost lovable. A downright passion, 
 disciplined by modesty and good breeding, must inspire 
 respect. With all this, she is no beauty ; her face scarcely 
 pleased me — still she ijiakes up for that by her deportment, 
 her cleverness, and her clear elocution. In her version of 
 it, the Prince is a m^ftrderer, and Marinelli, who is intended 
 to be her countermart, is a made-up, marred abortion. 
 Madame BircljJ?feijffer is also the authoress of a play, 
 Bas Pfeff&rrdse'C, which pleased me ; I hope I shall get to- 
 know her personally 
 
 Yesterday, I at length saw and heard the much-abused 
 soi-disant And/rea» Safer, ci-devant Wilhelm Tell, and I think 
 I have won my g^jae. 
 
 This time the Qomposer has written an Opera for Paris,, 
 which has a capital Orchestra, and screamers for singers. I 
 recognized thei^an himself in his complete individuality; 
 still, his work i& a novelty, as his ground is new, and I con- 
 sider this Opera, actually unfeasible in Italy, as the singers 
 will decline to siag it, and the Orchestra cannot play it. The- 
 work is in four Acts, and throughout, all is spirit and life. 
 Though in Eosgini's Italian Operas we may have many a 
 dreary moment, here there is nothing but continuous anima- 
 tion, fire, and v&riety. The poem is a ridiculous falsifica- 
 
412 GOETHl'S LElTTEES [1830, 
 
 tion of the history of our time, land reminds one of the 
 countless defeats of the triumphaat party, nay, of the dis- 
 graceful fall of a brave patriot, albont whom no one has 
 
 troubled himself, except the enemy! of the Fatherland 
 
 The music so excited me, that I coluld not sleep that night; 
 perhaps I may send you fuller details about the second 
 performance j 
 
 Tour account of your pearl-fisherjy is a second pearl 
 
 Hegel and his wife have got tHg fever again, and I am 
 anxious about both of them. FeliW; will I expect be in 
 Eome now, whereat I greatly rejdice, as his mother was 
 always opposed to Italy. I dreaded seeing him here, and in 
 the country too, dissolving like a jeWy under the corrupting 
 influence of family gossip, for I consit,ler him really a first- 
 rate player, because he plays everythirig, and is a master of 
 all styles. Let him go forth, therefor^., into the world, and 
 discover his masters, and awake theim, and begin where 
 the beginning is; the materials fo/^that he brings with 
 
 Jiina --v' Tours, 
 
 I Z. 
 
 319. — Goethe to Zjjltee. 
 
 Weimai-, gth Novemler, 183a. 
 Tou have been good enough to send a silhouette of 
 your world of wonders, deeds, and sounUtj into my cell 
 here ; here are Gephalus and Proeris for ■ you, with my 
 interpretation of them.* Place yourself iu i'ront of it, stick 
 in hand, thoughtfully, while you interpret it, as a ballad- 
 singer does his song ; anyhow it will satisfy you for the 
 moment. But here where it ends, it ought properly to begin. 
 Oh, the grandeur of the representation o^ a thing that can 
 scarcely be represented at all ! 
 
 Let me skip over to the Woman of Sama.-ia \ + Each of 
 
 * Appended to this letter is a long and minute dtseription of Giulio 
 Bomano's picture. 
 
 + This refers to Hensel's picture of Christ at th^ Well of SamaHa. 
 The following quotation shows the impression that it made on Zelter's 
 mind : — " In the distance, the Disciples are coming out of a wood and 
 the foremost of them, with arm uplifted, seems to jay ' There He sits 
 again, talking with a maiden, while we must go and look for Him ! ' 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEE. 413 
 
 Christ's appearances, every one of His utterances tends to 
 bring what is above us within the range of contemplation. 
 He is always rising Himself, and raising others from what 
 is low, and as this is most striking with sinners and trans- 
 gressors, such instances occur very frequently. 
 
 This grand, moral, Prophet-like act cannot, however, he 
 sensuously represented, and pictures of this kind are only 
 painted, because they have often been painted before, and 
 because artists like to repeat a seductive woman doing the 
 devotional. When we consider the many husbands of the 
 Samaritan woman, we certainly find it hard to conjecture 
 what the meek prophet can be to her. It may be a good 
 picture, but it says nothing. Modern artists have no idea 
 of this, and in the end, they have to put up with your ex- 
 planation of the minor details of the story. But herein lies 
 the fundamental error of German artists for nearly forty 
 years past. What have they to do with me ? Have we not 
 our Moses and our prophets ? 
 
 I cannot forbear stating what has just occurred to me. 
 Schiller had this same Christ-like tendency innate in him ; 
 he touched nothing low without ennobling it. It was the 
 bent of his inward activity. Some manuscript notes are still 
 in existence, written by a lady,* who lived for some time in 
 his family. She jotted down simply and faithfully what 
 he said to her, on leaving the Theatre, when she was making 
 tea for him, and on other occasions ; all was conversation 
 in the higher sense, and his behef that this kind of thing 
 could be taken up and made use of by a young woman, quite 
 touches me. And yet it has been taken up and has been 
 made use of, just as the Gospel was. "A sower went forth 
 to sow," &c. 
 
 Now, let anyone paint Schiller at a tea-table, sitting 
 opposite a young woman ; what can possibly be expressed 
 in that way ? although a young, innocent child, confront- 
 ing an eminent man, whose words she reverences, and 
 would like to understand and preserve, is always a more 
 
 The painter appeared almost angry at this suggestion, for he answered, 
 that he had never thought of such a thing. ' And what did you think 
 of, then ? ' I said rather pettishly, ' if in looking at your work, one 
 may not think the best that is possible of a man.' " 
 * Fraulein Ton Wurmb. See Letter 355. 
 
414 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 commendable subject [than the Woman of Samaria], — only- 
 it is not a picturesque one. 
 
 Meanwhile, enough of this ; turn back again to your 
 Giulio Romano, where you will feel yourself fortified against 
 
 all this twaddle 
 
 Tours in haste, 
 G. 
 
 320. — Zeltie to Goethe, 
 
 13th November, 1830. 
 .... Kbuger, the painter, whose fine large picture 
 of the Military Parade has been so successful, has hurt 
 his head, owing to a fall from his horse at a boar-hunt on St. 
 Hubert's day, — but there was no further damage. I tell 
 you this, merely because it was said, that his right hand had 
 been^everely injured — which is not the case, as I learn from 
 his father-in-law. It would be an irreparable loss to Art, if 
 this fine young fellow could no longer use his right hand. 
 One may carry anything too far, and I say this, only because 
 I happen to remember, that the excellent Mozart used to 
 have his meat cut up for him by his wife, for' fear of 
 wounding himself with the knife 
 
 To-morrow, Sunday, our Art Exhibition closes. The 
 life-size marble statue of Hope, by Thorwaldsen, does not 
 explain itself to me, although the individual parts are well 
 worked out. The attitude seems to me paralyzed, — mummi- 
 fied, — and the drapery fits, or rather, lies upon the figure, 
 like a shroud. I do not understand this rightly, therefore 
 forgive my mistakes ; I cannot help doubting, whether it is 
 possible to represent Hope in statuary 
 
 Farewell ; I think of you every hour, and feel you every- 
 where. Tour bust, and those of Schiller and our King, in 
 all shapes and sizes, stand on the chests and tables of the 
 humblest abodes. The plaster-cast dealers carry them about 
 
 all day long, shouting, through the streets Tou can 
 
 buy all three busts for six silver Groschen, and a bargaia- 
 driver can get them even cheaper, though one can hardly 
 beHeve that it pays for the plaster ; but the casts are so thin, 
 that they must be handled very gently. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
1830.] to zeltee. 415 
 
 321. — Zblteb to Goethk. 
 
 13th November, 1830. 
 
 What I learn at third hand,* now that my last 
 letter to you is already in the post, will be no secret to 
 thee, thou best of men ! This news opens up an old sore 
 in me, which I thought had cicatrized at last. I had just 
 begun to devour Thomas Carlyle's Life of Schiller, when 
 the letter from Weimar, coming like a flash and a thunder- 
 bolt, dashed the book from my hand. 
 
 Our brotherhood, old friend, proves itself solemnly 
 enough. Must we live through this, endure in silence, 
 and be still ! — Tes, with our own eyes we must see that 
 perish, wherein we have no part. That is the only comfort 
 we can feel. With pride I say " We," for I feel pain, if 
 a needle pricks yon. 
 
 I have now taken up the book again, and think to under- 
 stand it better, nay, I find myself again in it. If you endured 
 with Schiller two periods of distance and neighbourhood, 
 there were three with me, though I do not therefore thrust 
 myself either near or between you two, for each of you 
 must have been conscious of his influence upon the world. 
 
 Die Bauber was a play which wounded me as deeply, as 
 it delighted me greatly. If I was horrified at Franz Moor, 
 and allowed there was something unpleasant about that 
 old fool of a father, still I myself was a Karl Moor, like all 
 the rest of us young people, — ^just that we might step 
 forth as heroes, from our youthful commonplace. 
 
 Then appeared Kabale und Liebe, in which a musician 
 was represented, in whom I recognized the exact counter- 
 part of our Stadipfeifer, George. This man was a first-rate 
 hand at various instruments, a well-intentioned fellow, 
 though of rough manners, and entirely devoted to me. 
 Then there appeared a review of Kabale und Liebe, which 
 made me angry ; — I think Moritz was the author of it. I 
 could have killed the reviewer ; I declared so often and so 
 
 * This refers to the death of August Goethe at Rome, on the 27th of 
 October, 1830. He was buried near the Pyramid of Cestius, where 
 Goethe, many years before, had planned a grave. Thorwaldsen de- 
 signed a monument, which he erected there, out of respect for Goethe. 
 
416 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 loudly against him, that my father once said to m.e, " You 
 seem to me like one who washes himself with dirty water, 
 for you take pleasure in that which displeases you, you love 
 going on about what vexes you ; I think you can do some- 
 thing better than what you have never learnt to do, nor do I 
 myself understand it." This-^like everything that my father 
 used to say — made me reflect ; and when Fiesco appeared, 
 and was played here by Fleck with great applause, there 
 arose a coolness in me, which almost passed into coldness, — 
 so that now, what I liked best, was to take my part as a 
 player in old Dobbelin's Orchestra, let the Operas be what 
 they might. This second epoch extended itself up to the 
 time of Wallenstdn. I had then become more intimately 
 acquainted with Engel, Nicolai, ZoUner, Moritz, and others. 
 Then I heard the faults of the play discussed : — it was not 
 in harmony with history, it had cost eight years' work and 
 was still so incomplete, &c. — I was obliged to hold my 
 tongue, though I could not agree with them. 
 
 Fleck's acting of Wallenstem was masterly ; the more I 
 saw him, the more I was attracted. I summed up to myself 
 all that I had hitherto heard about Schiller, and a deep 
 desire arose within me, to make the personal acquaintance 
 of the poet. Speaking sincerely, the chief inducement I 
 had, in coming to you people in the first instance, was, 
 that I might learn to know Schiller, and therefore I came 
 by way of Jena, because I did not know, that SchiUer had 
 already settled in Weimar. He was not long back from 
 Dresden. Naumann had composed music for his Ideale, and 
 made a pupil of Ms, a Mdlle. S chafer, sing it to the poet. 
 The first thing that Schiller talked to me about was this 
 composition, over which he got quite angry — that so illus- 
 trious a man could so belabour a poem, as to tear its 
 soul to tatters with his vile tweedle-dee, — and so he launched 
 out against composers as a body ! 
 
 I need not describe the effect of so comforting an oration. 
 I had brought Schiller's and your poems in my bag, and 
 in one moment lost all desire to unpack them. This was 
 before dinner. Schiller and I were to dine with you. His 
 wife came and said, " Schiller, you must go and dress — 
 time's up." So Schiller goes into the next room and leaves 
 me alone. I seat myself at the piano, play a few chords. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEB. 417 
 
 and hum tlie Taucher qnite quietly to myself. Towards 
 the "end of the strophe, the door opens, and Schiller — only 
 half -dressed — steals in. " Tes, that's right, that's as it 
 ought to be," &c. Then the wife begins again; "Dear 
 Schiller, it is past two o'clock ; do jnst dress first, yon 
 know Goethe does not like waiting too long." — And so it 
 all came right. 
 
 Ton -will remember, how often in those days I showed 
 off my musical divertissements before him, and you, and all 
 the rest, — how you used to send Ehlers * to my room, to 
 practise the little pieces with me, and how well he did 
 several of them. 
 
 Forgive me for being such a gossip. To-day is Sunday, 
 (the 14th of November,) when one has an hour's peace, 
 though I have already attended a stiff musical rehearsal, 
 three hours long. I agree pretty well with what I find in 
 Thomas Oarlyle about Schubart. I too felt strongly about 
 the violent treatment he met with, for he was a musician, 
 though his music gave me no pleasure ; nor did his MstheUk 
 der Tonkunst, wherein he taught what I was just on the 
 point of abjuring, — how to break through the wall, so as to 
 penetrate intp the Sanctuary, when the door is close by. 
 He had learnt nothing, and is gone to the place from 
 ■whence he came. 
 
 This letter was not intended to go, until I knew some 
 more particulars about you, but to-day is the 18th, so I 
 shall send it. 
 
 Felix arrived in Eome on the 1st of November, and 
 has written to his parents from thence. Let me have a 
 word from you; I cannot set foot in the street, without 
 being asked how you. are. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 322. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Sunday, 21st November, 1830. 
 Tbsteedat, Prince Radzivil let me hear three new 
 scenes from his Faust. I cannot Sufficiently praise the 
 
 * Wilhelm Ehlers, actor, singer, and author of a volume of Songs, 
 with guitar accompaniment. 
 
 E E 
 
418 GOETHl's LETTERS [1830. 
 
 care with which everything is thought ont, even to the 
 smallest details 
 
 The Concert given by our Madame Milder went ofB suc- 
 cessfully enough last Thursday, in spite of opposition from 
 all quarters. In accordance with her wish and the first 
 announcement, I had to conduct the music, though I only 
 did so as a mediator, for without my presence, it would 
 have been dififtoult to avoid a complete breach with friends 
 and foes, who would not put up with her temper, caprice, 
 bad behaviour, and so on. She likes having her own way. 
 Her voice is even now a work of God. 
 
 Nothing is yet announced about the approaching Carnival. 
 Spontini is looked for, if he is not hoped for. In Paris he 
 is said to have praised Berlin, just as he praised Paris, when 
 he was here. No new Operas have been heard of, and 
 Andreas Hofer has not yet been given again. The Ballet 
 is now the chief interest, and little Elsler really dances, 
 or I should rather say, twists and pirouettes, marvellously. 
 Madame Birch- Pfeiffer has not appeared again ; she did 
 not take. She could not get into the running, and tried 
 it on with other Tragedies, which are no go here. The 
 critics also did not exactly express themselves in her 
 favour, and that goes for something; now and then too 
 
 they are right 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 323. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 21st November, 1830. 
 
 Nemo ante obitvm, heatus is a phrase which figures 
 in the world's history, but in reality means nothing. Had 
 it any real meaning, it should be construed, " Expect trials 
 up to the last." Tou, my good friend, have had no lack 
 of these, nor I either, and it seems as though Fate were 
 convinced that we are not woven together of nerves, veins, 
 arteries, and other organs derived from them, but of wire. 
 Thanks for your dear letter : once before too I had to 
 send you a Job's message* like that, as an hospitable 
 greeting. Well, let the matter rest ! 
 
 • See Letter 104. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTER. 419 
 
 The element iu this trial that is really strange and sig- 
 nificant is, that all those burdens which I thought to divest 
 myself of immediately, — nay, with the New Tear, — letting 
 them devolve on one younger than myself, — I shall now 
 have to drag on alone, and that too with more difficulty 
 than ever. 
 
 In such matters, it is the grand idea of duty that can 
 alone uphold us. I have no care but to keep myself in 
 physical equilibrium ; everything else will follow as a 
 matter of course. The body must, the mind will, and he 
 whose will can trace the inevitable path marked out before 
 it, need not feel much anxiety. 
 
 I will not add more, but reserve for myself the privi- 
 lege of advancing from this point, as occasion offers. My 
 warm and grateful remembrances to all those, who have 
 shown themselves so truly sympathetic. 
 
 Tour faithfully attached 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
 324 — ZiLTEE TO Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 2nd December, 1830. 
 Eckeemann's comforting letter of the 29th of No- 
 vember told us, that on that day you had left your bed, and 
 that as you had ordered a calf's head for dinner, that showed 
 you had a good appetite. This gave me the fancy to get 
 Doris, to whom I read the letter, to order a calf's head 
 that very evening, for supper after our concert, and as the 
 daily inquiries after you at my house are many, sixty or 
 more calves' heads may have been devoured here in Berlin, 
 
 yesterday and to-day 
 
 Sunday, 4th December, 1830. 
 
 .... The joy of my household, when they brought me 
 yesterday evening your manuscript letter of the 1st of 
 December,* was, you may well believe, very great. Dr. 
 Vogel's fortune is made in Berlin. He can come when he 
 
 * Goethe had been seized with a violent haemorrhage on the 25th 
 of November, but owing to the skilful treatment of Dr. Vogel, he 
 recovered so quickly, that on the 29th he wrote to Zelter in pencil, 
 " The individual is still together, and in his senses. Cheer up !" 
 
420 Goethe's letters [1830. 
 
 likes ; although there is no lack of helpers' helpers here, 
 we have plenty of patients too. 
 
 Yesterday evening, whilst I and two other friends were 
 at Hegel's, his pupils brought him a gold medal, engraved 
 with his portrait. He is not yet completely recovered, 
 there are still remnants of the fever, but he reads at least 
 once a day. "We clinked glasses to your recovery. A 
 thousand greetings from thousands ; on such an occasion 
 as this, many a little being turns up, that hardly ever let 
 himself be seen before. On "Wednesday my pupils chanted 
 their " Juvenes iAJt/m sibmus" in honour of your recovery, as if 
 they wanted to sing the roof down on to their heads. Yale ! 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 My grateful thanks to Dr. Vogel. The lines of his bul- 
 letin are for me the whole of Hippocrates ; I know them 
 now by heart, and shall not forget them. 
 
 326. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 6th December, 1830. 
 
 .... The new Opera by Theodor Korner and J. 
 P. Schmidt is called Alfred the Great ; in the war against the 
 Danes, the king loses his bride, but wins her back again 
 intact. The poem may be a weak one, but the composer 
 publishes its weakness so loudly, that I should gladly have 
 gone to sleep, if the devil had not carried me straight away 
 into the midst of the batteries, for I was in the Orchestra, 
 
 having given up my stall to my daughter Rosamunde 
 
 It calms my mind, to know that Eckermann is with you 
 again. "Why cannot I too be to you, what after all no one 
 else can be in the same wd,y ? 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 326. — -Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 6th December, 1830. 
 " I THINE we can manage that our communications 
 shall not be interrupted. I write a good deal in pencil. 
 
1830.] TO ZELTER. 421 
 
 whicli is afterwards copied out. All dep'ends upon the 
 proper econoiny of those faculties which still remain, and 
 which are gradually strengthening ; I have great need of 
 them. The burdens imposed upon me do not diminish, 
 but I distribute them among kindly-disposed persons, who 
 prove their worth doubly in this instance. By degrees 
 you shall hear the rest. For some time past I have dis- 
 trusted peaceful appearances, and am engaged in putting 
 my house in order ; this, to my great comfort, is now going 
 forward steadily, and without confusion. 
 ■ " Arrangements have been made respecting our correspon- 
 dence. If, as I suspect, you have determined that Doris 
 also is in the future to enjoy the not inconsiderable profits, 
 express this wish to me in a legal instrument, in order that 
 it may be annexed in legal form to the other documents, 
 by which I consider it my duty, as far as possible, to sim- 
 plify the strangely complicated state of affairs, for my 
 immediate successors. 
 
 " To be sure, you and I are on the same footing, as re- 
 gards collections ; we possess what to us is most precious, 
 but it cannot be valued." 
 
 So much for to-day. 
 
 I enclose the original,* that you may see how we shift 
 for ourselves. 
 
 Step by step ! 
 
 As ever, 
 G. 
 
 327. — Zblter to Goethe. 
 
 9th December, 1830. 
 ToTTB truly kind offer of the 6th instant would 
 leave me at a loss, how to express anew my gratitude for 
 your love, if I could ever feel troubled about anything that 
 you do. 
 
 If our collection of letters is some day or other to appear 
 before the world, it is an honour for me to know, that the 
 name of my worthy father will be kept for my posterity in 
 
 * Goethe wrote the first part of this letter in pencil, so that it had 
 to be copied out. 
 
422 goithb's lbttbbs [1830, 
 
 alliance with yours. That is more than I, who can only 
 take, and give nothing, thought to deserve. 
 
 So much you ought to know for your purpose, that I 
 look upon four of my six living children, (daughters,) as 
 provided for; I should like to see the two, who are still 
 unmarried, Doris and Kosamunde, so well circumstanced, 
 as not to he a burden to their sisters, who have several 
 children of their own. Besides this, there is my grand- 
 child, Louise, who also lives with me, the daughter of my 
 unhappy Karl. I mean to leave this pretty, gentle girl, 
 to the care of her benefactresses, Doris and Rosamunde. 
 They have brought her up from childhood, and they may 
 keep her. I have a little capital in ready money, to be 
 • invested for the child at interest, should she need a dowry. 
 Now, as I gather from your letter, that you are making 
 j)rovisional arrangements, in respect of our correspondence, 
 let me recommend to you, as entitled to equal shares, my 
 unmarried daughters, Doris and Rosamunde, as they both 
 have been devoted and good children to me. Neither 
 of them is over strong. Good — honourable — excellent 
 managers — and universally respected, — they bear with 
 patience my advanced years, and I do not know how I 
 could live more happily, were it not for my wish to leave 
 these dear thiugs rather more comfortably off. I write 
 this with some emotion, as I cannot conceal from niyself, 
 that one of us two will find himself here alone, and I 
 have no wish but to be with thee, where thou art, and to 
 go whither thou goest. 
 
 Let me know now, if it would be agreeable to you, to 
 make this legacy of love in favour of both my daughters, 
 when you only know one of them personally, and I will at 
 once give the necessary directions, through my solicitor. 
 
 Ever your most faithful 
 Zeltee. 
 
 328. — GoBTHE TO Zbltbr. 
 
 Weimar, 10th December, 1830. 
 ToTJ are perfectly right, my dear Friend. Did I 
 not keep the clockwork of my life's activities in good 
 order, I could scarcely continue to exist in so pitiful a 
 
1830.] TO ZELTBB. 423 
 
 condition. This time, however, the hand has only been 
 put back a few hours, and now everything is going again 
 in the old steady way. , 
 
 However, since the expiration of November, I have 
 another confession to make. The loss of my son weighed 
 heavily upon me in more than one way, so I seized upon 
 a piece of work that should completely absorb me. The 
 fourth volume of my Autobiography had lain quietly aside, 
 for more than ten years, in the form of sketches, only 
 partially worked out ; I had not ventured to take it up 
 again. But now I laid hold of it with a will, and it has 
 so far succeeded, that the volume might be printed as it 
 is now, were it not that I hope to make the subject- 
 matter fuller and more important, and the treatment of it 
 still more perfect. 
 
 I got so far in a fortnight, and there can be no doubt, 
 that the suppressed grief, and strenuous mental efBort 
 occasioned that shock, for which my body was predisposed. 
 Suddenly, without any premonitory symptom, or any dis-- 
 tinct warning, I broke a blood-vessel in my lungs, and the 
 loss of blood was so great, that had not prompt and skilful 
 help been at hand, the ulUma linea rerum, would, I suppose, 
 have been drawn here. Ere long, I will write again about 
 other things, which I worked at industriously, during the 
 past sunless summer, in the hope that they would prove 
 
 satisfactory, before and after 
 
 The faithful Hchart * is a great help to me. Loyal, pure, 
 and high-minded, he daily grows in knowledge, insight, 
 and judgment, and is quite invaluable to me in the way 
 of encouragement and sympathy ; Riemer too, on his side, 
 makes my work and my life easier, by associating himself 
 with me in correcting, amending, revisiug, and finishing 
 off both manuscripts and proof-sheets. May we both have 
 strength and consolation given us, to persevere actively 
 unto the end. 
 
 Therefore, while often looking back, let us go bravely 
 forward in this game of Goose ! 
 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
 • Zelter's name foi^ Eckermann. 
 
424 Goethe's lbttees [1830. 
 
 329. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 17th December, 1830. 
 .... I THINK I told you that we had a perform- 
 ance of Haydn's Seasons, with Thomson's words ; this 
 music ought to be esteemed one of our lost treasures, sung 
 as it is by rustics, vine- dressers, and tiUers of the soil, — 
 countrified, yet with a brilliancy of its own, — so realistic, 
 that I am always transported by it to a condition of inno- 
 cence, and perfect mental equilibrium 
 
 Tour last of the 10th-14th instant was a great pleasure 
 to me. My last could not yet have reached you, and I 
 am now expecting your decision, as to the course to be 
 adopted in the matter of our correspondence. I must 
 confess too, that I cannot help feeling amused, for when I 
 read Lessing's Correspondence with friend Nicolai, I could 
 hardly get over the inclination to read Lessing's letters 
 only, — and so people may feel about mine. At all events 
 my letters have the merit of suggesting yours, and that is 
 
 no slight consolation to me 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 330. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 30th Becember, 1830, 
 .... A LETTER from Felix, dated Rome, 1st of 
 December, tells me of the Pope's death, which occurred the 
 evening before at the Quirinal. That lad came into the 
 world at a happy hour. In Hungary he sees an Imperial 
 head crowned, in Rome he finds a Conclave, and at Naples 
 "Vesuvius is getting itself ready for a performance. In 
 Rome I gave him an introduction to the Maestro di Ga/pella 
 del Sommo Pontefice, Baini, and to the Abbate Santini. 
 The latter, a musical antiquary and collector, writes to me, 
 " Oh, what a brilliant youth that is ! with what pleasure 
 do I call him my friend ; one may well say of him, as 
 Scaliger used to say, when speaking of Pico della Miran- 
 dola, ' He is a monster without vice.' " 
 
 Santini has written an Italian version of Ramler's words 
 to Graun's Passion Music, and they write to him from 
 
1830.] TO ZELTEE. 426 
 
 Naples about it, "All our connoisseurs nowadays will 
 listen to nothing else but the music of Grraun and Handel, 
 so true is it, that the truly beautiful can never be lost." 
 To be sure, I knew what they are now learning in Italy, 
 that there are people who live on the other side of their 
 
 Alps 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 331. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 28tli December, 1830. 
 
 OuE business, my dearest Friend, has now been 
 Landed over to the juristical workshop, whence it is to 
 be hoped, it will issue right and tight, fit to endure, and 
 adequate for future times 
 
 I will not conceal from you, that I have, in thought, 
 compared your letters and Schiller's ; when I tell you this, 
 you will feel entirely satisfied. I only wish my thoughts 
 had a shorthand writer, to save myself the trouble of 
 expressing them 
 
 For the last eight weeks, I have not read any newspaper, 
 a habit I took up some years ago, and found beneficial. 
 We other Philistines are, after all, much like the fly which, 
 while sitting on the wheel of a coach that was travelling 
 
 along, fancied it was stirring up clouds of dust 
 
 Most truly yours always, 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
426 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 1831. 
 
 332. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 4th January, 1831. 
 To-day Falstaff makes his appearance, and everyone 
 has gone to the Theatre. The Weimaranians are fair and 
 hospitable, and therefore deserve all the good things that 
 are ofEered them. Devrient has the advantage of pos- 
 sessing a remarkable presence ; of course it is now a wreck, 
 but still it always commands respect, and one intuitively 
 feels what he must have been, which is attractive to every- 
 one who can still appreciate anything of the kind. Have 
 we not sat and looked at old castles, to get artistic views 
 of them ? 
 
 Felix, whose successful visit to Rome you tell me of, 
 cannot but be favourably received, wherever he goes : such 
 great gifts, so young, so charming ! . . . . 
 
 The two first Acts of Fcmst are finished. Cardinal von 
 Este's exclamation,* which he meant as a compliment to 
 Ariosto, might here perhaps be in place. Enough ! Helena, 
 without more ado, appears at the beginning of the third 
 Act, not as a secondary character, but as a heroine. The 
 course of this Third Part is well known ; how far the gods 
 will assist me in the fourth Act, remains to be seen. The 
 fifth is likewise ready on paper, up to the end of the end. I 
 should one day like to read this Second Part of Faust from 
 the beginning, as far as the Bacchanal, straight through. 
 But I usually guard myself against such a proceeding ; 
 others may do it afterwards, who come to it with fresh 
 organs, and they will meet with many a knotty point. 
 
 And now a pregnant little word in conclusion : Ottihe 
 says, that to a reader, our correspondence is still more in- 
 tertaining than Schiller's. What she means by this, and 
 
 * On the first appearance of Orlando Furioso, Cardinal d'Este said to 
 Ariosto, " Dme, diavolo, Messer Lodovioo, avetepigliate tante coglionerieV 
 
1831.] TO ZELTBE. 427 
 
 how she explains it, you shall, if possible, hear one day soon, 
 if Fortune favours. 
 
 And thus, as always, 
 J. W. V. G. 
 
 333. — Zeltbb to Goithe. 
 
 7th January, 1831. 
 The day before yesterday I was again at the 
 
 Opera, and heard a capital performance of the Vestalin. 
 The work itself is a colossal nonentity, and at the same 
 time, a perfectly reliable measure of the present condition 
 of Art in Europe ; for this Opera is on all sides considered 
 as one of the better kind, — nay, as a work in the grand 
 style. It is the clumsiest trifle I can imagine. The house 
 was in raptures, and the Overture had to be repeated, 
 which you may look upon as a sign of the hopes that are 
 entertained of the Opera itself. 
 
 Yesterday, I saw for the first time. Die Striclcnadeln, by 
 Kotzebue. The play is really good, and the performance 
 excellent. The character of the old Baroness is masterly. 
 But as you, a short time ago, said of Schiller, that the 
 commonplace became dignified in his hands, so Kotzebue 
 degrades everything worthy of respect to commonplace, 
 
 and so it is in this play 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 334. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Thursday, 10th January, 1831. 
 
 Testekdat evening, between six and eight o'clock, 
 all the world here was admiring the most beautiful Aurora 
 Borealis, in a perfectly clear, starry sky. The barometer 
 had all at once risen extraordinarily high, and we had from 
 seven to eight degrees of cold. I can't tell you anything 
 further about it, except that our Professor Link, upon one 
 occasion, when examining a young naturalist, gave him as 
 a problem to solve, the origin of the Aurora Borealis. The 
 youth, who had generally stood the test well, answered in 
 confusion, that he did know it, and it had only just 
 escaped him, but he would think it over. " Tes, please do 
 
428 Goethe's lettebs [1831. 
 
 so," said Link, " it's of great importance to me, for I don't 
 know it, nor does anyone in the Academy." 
 
 20tli January, 1831. 
 
 I reckon it no small matter, that you allow me to take a 
 share in everything that interests you, in every kind of way. 
 Personally I knew Niebuhr well, without knowing his 
 many merits ; he too, though he could have known nothing 
 more about me, than I did about him, would ask after you, 
 when we happened casually to pass one another, and that 
 alone gave him a value in my eyes. He seemed to me 
 discontented with the world and with his lot, and it was 
 Just his luck, to be debarred the pleasure of hearing, 
 shortly before his death, as you meant him to, how well 
 pleased you were, with the Second Part of his Roman 
 History. What does his rare talent avail a man, if it is to 
 shrink up into itself, and if he finds no second person with 
 the power of contemplating his hard-won treasure ? Wolf 
 was not satisfied with the Pirst Part of the Roman History, 
 but what would he ever have been satisfied with ? . . . . 
 
 In re-reading your letter,* I stumble again on your view 
 of Niebuhr's work, in relation to the individuality of the 
 writer, and I enclose a book of the words of Handel's Te 
 Dewm, which we performed here last week, that you may 
 see my preface. Strictly speaking, no one knows how a Te 
 Deum ought to be, although thousands have written more 
 than one. Here I wanted to explain how Handel treated 
 it in this one instance, as a German in England, as a 
 Lutheran German Christian, and as no other than Handel. 
 Of course I have been familiar with the work for the last 
 fifty years. Parewell ! 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 335. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 17th January, 1831. 
 Some three weeks ago, I received a beautiful letter 
 from the inestimable Niebuhr, with a copy of the Second 
 Part of his History of Rome ; it was written in the full 
 
 * See Letter 335. 
 
1831. J TO ZELTEB. 429 
 
 confidence that I knew him, and should acknowledge his 
 merits. This important book came to me just at the right 
 moment, when I had given up all newspaper reading. So 
 1 was glad to transport myself into those ancient times, 
 and read myself into the book uninterruptedly, an ab- 
 solute necessity, if we would really steep ourselves in such 
 an existence. Properly speaking, it is not my ambition to 
 see clearly and definitely into the dark regions of history, 
 except up to a certain point ; but for the man's own sake, 
 when once I had realized his endeavour, his views and 
 method of research, his interests became mine also. It 
 was in reality Niebuhr, and not Roman history that en- 
 gaged my attention. It is the profound intelligence and 
 industry of such a man, that really edify us. The agrarian 
 laws, one and all, do not interest me in the least, but the 
 way in which he explains them, the way in which he makes 
 those complicated relations clear to my mind, this it is that 
 helps me on, this it is that makes me feel that my duty is, 
 to be equally conscientious with what I take in hand. 
 
 From early days he seems to have indulged in a pe- 
 culiar kind of scepticism, not like one who acts from a 
 spirit of contradiction, but like one who has a special 
 faculty for discovering the false, while the truth, itself is 
 as yet unknown to him. 
 
 In this way I have been living with Mm for nearly a 
 month, as with a living man. I have read through the 
 work, which is really a terrible one to look at, and have 
 wound my way through the labyrinth of the to be or not to 
 be, of legends and traditions, stories and evidences, laws 
 and revolutions, public offices, and their metamorphoses, 
 and thousands of other contrasts and contradictions ; I was 
 just about to send him a friendly reply, such as he could 
 not have expected to receive from any of his colleagpies, 
 near or far, nor from the initiated of any class. 
 
 For as I had read and studied his book, for his own sake, 
 I was best able to say and to express what he had done for 
 ine, and that was just what he wanted to do, for I was 
 satisfied with what he affirmed, whereas professional men, 
 as is their wont, necessarily begin to doubt again at the • 
 very point, where he thought he had made an end of it. 
 
 This unexpected blow of Fate, in addition to my other 
 
430 GOETHE'S LKTTBES [1831. 
 
 anxieties, is most nnto-ward ; and now I do not know of a 
 single sonl, with whom I could confer on the subject. All 
 people of recognized position have their own method, and 
 anyhow, they look at the same things in a different asso- 
 ciation and connection, while the dear young people feel 
 their way about in the dark, and would, no doubt, like to 
 discover what is right in their own way too, — only, though 
 their intention is good, their means are inadequate. I 
 find no one who shares my own peculiar convictions ; how 
 •could I expect them to agree with me about the thoughts 
 of others ? In this state of affairs, it must comfort me — 
 me, whom it in no way concerns to know how it fared in 
 Rome and Latium, with Volscians and Sabines, the Senate, 
 the people, and the plebs, — to think that I have thereby 
 won for my certain edification, principles of universal 
 human application, with which the memory of that ex- 
 cellent man is most closely interwoven. 
 
 Of least interest to you would be the most important part 
 of the. work, which treats of the measurement of acres, for 
 you, and all other musicians, may thank God, that you have, 
 by means of an equable temperature, never attainable 
 there, succeeded in quietly turning your acres to profitable 
 account. 
 
 Thus always yours, 
 
 a 
 
 336. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 29th January, 1831. 
 TouE document comes just at the right moment, for 
 J shall very soon have settled with the future, so that I can 
 live again in and for the present. My will, in which our 
 arrangement has been attended to in detail, was handed 
 over to the Grand Ducal Government, as early as the 8th 
 of January, and lately I have had a codicil added, in order 
 to make the extremely complicated state of my affairs clear 
 to those who come after me. In such things we ought to 
 •do all we can, for if, as history teaches us, the very least 
 regard is paid to the last wills of kings, a private person 
 has all the more hope of influencing the future, especially 
 uf he understands well the advantages of those who succeed 
 
1831.] TO ZBLTER. 431 
 
 him. Party spirit, caprice, and unreasonableness, have less 
 scope for action, and are less in their element in our legal 
 status 
 
 Tour introduction to Handel's Te Bmm is capital, and 
 quite worthy of you. That precious public of ours always 
 thinks nowadays, that it ought to be served with fresh, 
 hot cakes from the pan. They have no idea, that one has 
 first to be educated up to anything new or any really antique 
 novelty. But how should they know this? Why, they 
 are always being born anew. 
 
 I have all my life long heard it said by scientific people, 
 incidentally to many an important production, that what 
 is true im it, is not new, and what is new, is not true ; which 
 means nothing more than — What we have learnt, we fancy 
 we understand, and what we have still to lea/rn, we do not 
 understamd. 
 
 Had I not taken up the study of Natural Science, I 
 should never have got to know mankind. In matters 
 aesthetic and philosophical, it is di£B.cult to distinguish 
 benevolence from malevolence; but in Natural Science, 
 earnest and honest men very soon see distinctly, what 
 sort of people those are, who blame Nature, when she 
 expresses herself distinctly, and eiven when she has found 
 expression through man. 
 
 But now let me confess, that I was very wrong the other 
 day, when, in my vexation at Niebuhr's death, I presumed 
 to say, it was Niebuhr alone, and not the Eoman affairs, so 
 ably discussed by him, that interested me ; that is in no way 
 correct. For when a man versed in his subject treats any 
 topic lovingly and thoroughly, he gives us a share in his 
 interest, and forces us to enter into his topics. And this 
 is my experience just now, since the Roman Antiquarian 
 Society continues to send me the report of its proceedings, 
 which are quite in the spirit of Niebuhr, were suggested by 
 him, and are now being carried on in the very way he 
 would himself have chosen, so that they really make 
 him live again after his death. He still goes about and 
 
 works 
 
 G. 
 
432 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 Weimar, 1st February, 1831, 
 .... EcKEEMANN, who like a true All, is penetrated 
 with the noble idea, that light and darkness in shadow 
 produce colour, has brought me a small bust of Napoleon,* 
 made of opal glass, which of itself is worth a journey round 
 the world. It stands facing the rising sun, and when the 
 first beam strikes it, it rings all the precious stones together, 
 gleaming and shining with a blaze of colour. If I continue 
 to turn it towards the sun, it does the same all day long. 
 This, then, is the hermit's privilege over all those who have 
 so much and think so much of themselves. One can be very 
 happy without demanding that others should agree with 
 one ; for this reason, both the happiness and unhappiness of 
 you musicians is carried to an extreme. Of actors I will not 
 speak at all; they dance on the razor edge of the moment. f 
 
 Pardon such life- disturbing reflections ; it is these which 
 preserve my life for me 
 
 As I have still time and space, I will give you the 
 following piece of news, which I hope you will be gratified 
 to hear. Our good Mara, whom you justly love and admire, 
 is celebrating somewhere in the ultima Thule — I believe at 
 Eeval — her birthday-fete, — which is an old story. The 
 people there — wishing to pay her a compliment — applied 
 to Hummel for some music, and to me, through him, for 
 some poetry. And so it was -pleasant to remember, that in 
 the year 1771, when I was an excitable young student, I 
 had enthusiastically applauded Mademoiselle Schmeling ; 
 this furnished me with a good parallel contrast, and I 
 easily threw off a few stanzas. To be sure — ^had a genial, 
 musical combination been possible — we might here too 
 
 * This bust had been bought at Geneva by Eckermann, and pre- 
 sented by him to the Poet, who records in a letter to his friend, the 
 fascination which it exercised over him : — 
 
 " If your Daemon again brings you to Weimar, you shall see the 
 image standing in a strong, clear sun, where beneath the calm blue of 
 the transparent face the thick mass of the breast and the epaulettes go 
 through the ascending and descending scale of every shade from the 
 strongest ruby red. As the granite head of Memnon utters sounds, so 
 does this glass figure produce a coloured halo. Here we see the hero 
 victorious, even for the theory of colours." See Eckermann's Conver- 
 sations of Goethe, p. 494. 
 
 ■|- A transcript of the Greek proverb, M |upoT d/c/i^s. 
 
1831. J TO ZELTBB. 433 
 
 have given the lady endless pleasures of recollection, if the 
 first strophe had been furnished with the once famous 
 motives of the 8ta. Elena al Gahicmo, which would have 
 painfully, yet gracefully, led her mind back to the days of 
 her youth. I had already thought out the programme, 
 but it remained looked in my own bosom. What occurred, 
 I do not know. I shall keep the two stanzas secret from 
 you ; most probably they will come to light from that 
 
 quarter, or from elsewhere, but I will not anticipate 
 
 Tours, 
 G. 
 
 337. — Zbltbe to Gobthb. 
 
 Berlin, 12th February, 1831. 
 .... Testbrdat a new Opera by Ferdinand Eies * 
 was given for the second time, with the applause of his 
 friends, myself included. The technical part is admirable, 
 and the Orchestra, though it had hard work, kept an 
 artistic fite-day, and covered itself with glory. The piece 
 
 is called Die Bauberhrauf Madame Schroder- 
 
 Devrient made a very dainty bride, and her singing left 
 nothing to be desired. In my judgment, she is superior to 
 her illustrious mother, inasmuch as she combines this gift 
 
 with smooth acting, dignity, and womanliness 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
 338. — Goethe to Zblteb. 
 
 Weimar, 19th February, 1831. 
 .... I 60 on collecting in a quiet way, and have 
 acquired some works of the greatest value, which fortu- 
 nately, no one else was on the look-Out for. One of 
 Annibale Caracci's drawings is fine beyond all conception, 
 
 * The pupil of whom Beethoven said, " He imitates me too much." 
 His works are learned, but they have no vitality or real genius in thenl. 
 He is best remembered by his Biographical Notices of Ludwig van 
 Beethoven, parts of which were translated into English by Moscheles. 
 
 F P 
 
434 gobthe's lbtteks [1831. 
 
 ■^ being as it is, the successful achievement of a complete 
 man, who has thrown his whole soul into the picture ; I 
 want nothing higher or better. 
 
 This is not understood by our latest aristocrats of Art, 
 who assume an absurdly high and mighty attitude to- 
 wards this most estimable and influential family ; and yet 
 they are just the very Leos and Durantes of their Art and 
 time. 
 
 Tou do well to live and let live in your Art ; I too in 
 the long run, do the same, — ^for where a human spark 
 glimmers but half-way up the horizon, I am glad to be in 
 the way. 
 
 I do not care to trust individual instances of my blessing 
 and cursing, even to this sheet of paper ; let them wander 
 up or wander down, as they may. 
 
 But as ia general I can refuse you nothing, the stanzas 
 on Mara's fete shall follow. I do not know what Hummel 
 has done. According to my idea, the first verse ought to 
 have recalled the echoes of Hasse's 8ta. Mena al Oahario ; 
 the second might be as original and modem as it chose. 
 
 Let me add a further point to my own credit ! I have 
 now by degrees come to see, that I must submit to living 
 without my son, and the enforced attempt at again acting 
 as paterfamilias is not succeeding badly ; but that the echo 
 of that impressive nature may not die away too abruptly 
 for those who befriended him, I have jotted down for his 
 Italian friends in the first place, a very brief sketch of his 
 travels, a transcript of which I shall send you one day soon. 
 After all, that is something. His diaries are certainly 
 most interesting, but owing to the continual prominence of 
 those characteristics, to which you were no stranger, they 
 cannot be made public in their own energetic and pointed 
 style. They would be reading for us some day, if things 
 could be so happily arranged, that you came to pay us 
 another visit ; the " Swan " would spread out its wings for 
 
 you 
 
 Always yours. 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEE. 435 
 
 To Mademoiselle Schmkling. 
 
 After a Performance of Hasse's Sta, Elena al Calvarw. 
 
 Leipzig, 1771. 
 
 Clearest notes, the heart to stir. 
 Youthful gladness owing, 
 To the Holy Sepulchre, 
 With the Empress going ; 
 
 Pure and true, no shade of wrong, 
 Heaven hast thou brought me ! 
 Thither, thou Queen of Song, 
 Did thy voice transport me ! 
 
 To Madame Maea. 
 
 On the happy occasion of the Anniversary of her Bu-thday. 
 
 Weimar, 1831. 
 
 Kich in song, thy honoured way ! 
 All rejoiced in hearing. — 
 I too sang, a rougher day, 
 Toilsome journeys cheering. 
 Now — when I am near the goal — 
 Ancient charms confessing. 
 Would that thou couldst feel my sonl 
 Greet thee, with a blessing ! 
 
 339. — Zelter to Goethe. 
 
 Undated, 
 Thank you for sending those two glorious little 
 poems, which, across an interval of sixty years, have a 
 double value, illustrating as they do, two characters, both 
 full of life and action. Our lady is about a year younger 
 than you, and throughout her long career as an artist, has 
 retained her special characteristics, independence and indi- 
 viduality. She wrote to me two years ago, to say that she 
 was on the point of writing her Biography, as people knew 
 only one half about her, and by no means the right half, — 
 which we may now hope to get. Even up to the last, she 
 has nobly ignored the original source of her many sorrows, 
 
436 Goethe's litters [1831. 
 
 and that was her husband, the most abandoned of all 
 Greeks. 
 
 She came to ns from Leipzig, as Mdlle. Schmeling, in the 
 year 1771, and made her debut in Hasse's Fi/ramw & Tishe, 
 with Concialini, to the admiration of the King, who would 
 hardly listen to her before, perhaps because he thought her 
 paternal name sounded so dreadfully German. From that 
 time up to 1773, she sang here in the Carnival Operas, 
 Britannico, Iphigenia, Merope. Then she fell in love with 
 Mara, a violoncello-player and a favourite of Prince Henry, 
 (the brother of the King,) and as neither of these gentle- 
 men would permit a marriage between Berlin and Rheins- 
 berg, the lovers ran away, taking French leave. They were 
 caught, and Mara was transferred to a regiment at Ciistrin, 
 where he was obliged to play a fife in the band. Mdlle. 
 Schmeling was re-engaged, and for life. Mara came back 
 to Berlin, and was allowed to marry her. From December, 
 1773, onwards, she sang in the following Carnival-Operas, 
 as Madame Mara : — 1. Armmio. 2. Bemofoonte. 3. Ev/ropa 
 Galomte. 4. Pa/rtenope. 5. AttiUo Regolo. 6., Orfeo. 
 7. Angelica e Medoro. 8. Gleqfide. 9. Artemisia. 10. Bode- 
 Imda. In the year 1779 there was no Carnival, on 
 account of the Bavarian War of the Succession, and in the 
 following year, 1780, after a revival of the Opera, Bodelinda, 
 man and wife, for the second time, absconded secretly. A 
 second time they were detained, but the King ordered 
 them to be let go, because, even at that high price, he 
 wanted to get rid of the husband. We have documentary 
 evidence of this, but our friend declines to recognize it, 
 and it is quite possible, she might complain of force. She 
 became the rage everywhere, from the moment of her first 
 appearance in the Opera of Britawnioo, in which, when as 
 Agrippina, with a voice of thunder, changing into maternal 
 tenderness, she sang the air, " Mi paventi ilfiglio indegno ! " 
 addressing someond behiad the scenes, she made me weep 
 streams of bitter tears every time I heard her.. The air is 
 the orthodox bravura air of those days ; it seemed as if a 
 thousand nightingales were shouting for vengeance. In 
 all tragic parts, she looked a head and shoulders taller 
 than other people, I have heard nothing grander than 
 her Queen Eodelinda. Connoisseurs blamed her for being 
 
1831. J TO ZELTEE. 437 
 
 too quiet in passionate parts. " What ! " she exclaimed, 
 " am I to siilg with my hands and' legs ? I am a singer ; 
 what I can't do with my voice, I don't choose to do with 
 anything else." The relations between such a person and 
 her husband were a subject of general concern.* .... I 
 don't say this for the pleasure of being unkind, although 
 Mara was no friend of mine, but in justification of the great 
 King, who got as little praise for this, as for the Miller 
 Arnold trial, f since people praise no one who does the right 
 thing, and indeed, would rather not know what the right 
 thing is. There was a good deal besides : beautiful Rheins- 
 berg, close to the Mecklenburgh country, was a nest of 
 banditti, upon whom, as they were under the protection of 
 the favourite, no one who valued his life, ventured to lay 
 a hand. The King, however, knew perfectly well, where 
 the smuggler's thread began, which twined itself as far as 
 Berlin, by means of the Court carriages of Rheinsberg. 
 Mara ended his days here in utter sottishness, although 
 his wife never completely forsook him. I once confessed 
 to her my admiration of her noble behaviour to him, where- 
 upon she remarked, " But you must own, he was the hand- 
 somest man you could find." Eeichardt too had perpetual 
 quarrels with him, because Mara wanted to mix himself 
 up with the affairs of the Royal Opera. The King let 
 him sleep, all through the Carnival time, in the "Watch- 
 house, on a bed of boards, where the common soldiers were 
 allowed to indulge in their coarse jokes with him. That 
 gave Reichardt the upper hand, and now, as a young 
 Cwpellmeister, enjoying protection, he wrote a great many 
 letters to the King, complaining about the old musicians. 
 Thereupon the King said, " I thought I had quite got rid 
 of the Opera, and now I have the old worry, and one fool 
 more into the bargain." Had Reichardt pitched Mara into 
 the Spree, he would have been punished, but it would have 
 been a gain to him in the end. The' King was just like 
 that, — ^but Reichardt made himself unpleasant. 
 
 * Here follows the story of Herr Mara's refusal to play, already 
 given iu Letter 165. 
 
 + For an account of the celebrated Miller Arnold case, which at- 
 tracted the notice of all Europe, even in the early days of the French 
 Bevolution, see Carlyle"s Frederick the Great, vol. x. bk. xxi. cap. 7. 
 
438 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 I have begun to gossip. Forgive me, these are common 
 topics, but I cannot forget them ; people were frivolous, I 
 dare say, hut I never could endure unfairness, especially 
 when it had to do with my Fritz. My father could not 
 stand an unjust word about the King. His brother, who 
 used to visit us periodically, nearly every year, was always 
 very well received, but when he began to speak of the 
 behaviour of the King in Dresden, my father used to say, 
 " My dear brother, when are you going back ? At home, 
 in your straggling Gros-Rohrsdorf , you are in your element, 
 and if I come back to you again for another visit, I will 
 praise your Saxons, till they blush up to the roots of their 
 hair." 
 
 I do not know whether I told you, that it was the elder 
 Schmeling who denounced me to my father, as a composer. 
 Of an evening, my father used to frequent a select circle 
 of citizens, clergymen, musicians, &o., who talked together 
 over their beer and tobacco. On one occasion, when they 
 were reading the newspaper, they lit on a composition of 
 mine which was announced in it, — I think it was my 
 Pianoforte Variations on an air of Cherubino's, in Beau- 
 marchais' Figaro. My father said, it was the first time he 
 had ever found mention of his own name, unconnected 
 with himself, whereupon Schmeling said, " It is your son 
 too; why, I know him." Next day at dinner my father 
 asked me, what that meant ? did I know the man ? " Oh, 
 yes," I answered, "and you, dear father, know him also." 
 " Then it's you they are complimenting. Take care that 
 they compliment you on your drawing and geometry," — 
 which, so far as I know, never did happen. 
 
 I wonder if Hummel knows Hasse's Sta. Elena al Gal- 
 vario. These spiritual Dramas, (the result of which was 
 the Opera,) are now crowded out by the Cantata. The 
 Cantata belongs to Chamber- music, but the Oratorio, even 
 if it is no part of the Liturgy, belongs to the Church, like the 
 musical vespers, &c. Hasse twice set to music this Oratorio 
 of Metastasio's — once for Dresden, and afterwards for 
 Yienna. Possibly what you heard in Leipzig in the year 
 1771, was the first composition. I was fortunate enough 
 to come across the arrangement for Vienna, just as you 
 came across your Annibale Caracci ; I got it from eminent 
 
1831.] TO ZELTBK. 439 
 
 connoisseurs, for people fancy the one is better than the 
 other, because it is the other. Hasse wrote about a hundred 
 Operas, if not more, without counting his sacred composi- 
 tions. Each of his works contains powerful passages, such 
 as only a German genius, cultivated in the better times of 
 Italy, could produce. In spirit, energy, grace, and fer- 
 tility, he outstripped the Leos, Durantes, Vincis, and Per- 
 goleses, as also the master, whom he extolled, Alexander 
 Scarlatti. If you discard the Italian mannerism, uni- 
 versally adopted in those days, yon have an original, in all 
 its German strength and glory. Besides that, he was a 
 universal favourite, so that, having full confidence, both 
 in the world and in himself, he could give the world what 
 it will have, and at the same time smuggle in, as it were, 
 his own most marked individuality ; hence, if regarded too 
 
 superficially, he is not assessed at his true value 
 
 I prize those passages in your letter about our August, 
 for in answer to repeated questions, I boldly ventured to 
 give the same answer, founded, after my custom, on your 
 earlier letters, and daily and yearly records ; Felix's letters 
 from Rome too agree beautifully with your narrative. That 
 dear lad has never given me anything but pleasure. Art 
 goes- on crutches in Italy. Outsiders, whether voluntarily 
 or involuntarily, dominate it; still the Italians continue 
 working, and if they hold out to sea, I dare say they may 
 expect good sailing weather again. They say the new 
 Pope is a worthy man, and if he only proves himself a 
 
 man, the worthiness is sure to follow 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
 840. — Goethe to Ziltbb. 
 
 Weimar, 23rd February, 1831. 
 In memoria/m — to a, sympathetic friend. 
 Mt son was travelling for the recovery of his health. 
 His first letters from beyond the Alps, were a great comfort 
 and pleasure to me; he had seen and visited, with real, 
 bright sympathy, Milan, and the fertile plains and glorious 
 lakes of Lombardy, returning thither, after he had been to 
 Venice. The unbroken narrative of his diary bore witness 
 
440 gobthe's letters [1831, 
 
 to his open, unclouded views of Nature and of Art, and he 
 was happy in applying and extending the varied know- 
 ledge he had formerly acquired. So it continued up to 
 Genoa, where, to his great pleasure, he fell in with an old 
 friend, a Mr. Sterling, through whom I was made ac- 
 quainted with Lord Byron. Thereupon he parted with 
 Dr. Eckermann, who had accompanied him so far, and 
 who now returned to Germany. 
 
 The fracture of his collar-bone, which unhappily occurred 
 when he was on his way from Genoa to Sp'ezzia, kept him 
 there nearly four weeks, but even this accident, and a skin 
 disease that attacked him at the same time, (and was also 
 very troublesome in the great heat,) he endured manfully, 
 and with good humour ; he continued writing his diary, 
 and did not leave the place, till he had seen all the country 
 round about, and even visited the quarantine establishment. 
 He knew how to make the very best of his short stay in 
 Carrara, and his longer visit to Florence, always paying 
 due attention to things in their proper order; his diary 
 might serve as a guide to any like-minded person. 
 
 After leaving Leghorn by steamer, and encountering a 
 heavy storm, he landed at Naples on a fete-day. There he 
 found the able artist, Herr Zahn,* who had become very 
 intimate with us, during his stay in Germany ; he received 
 him in the most friendly way, and now proved himself a 
 most desirable guide and assistant. 
 
 His letters from this place, however, I must confess, did 
 not altogether satisfy mo ; they showed a certain haste, a 
 morbid state of exaltation, although, as regarded the record 
 of his careful observations, he remained fairly equal to 
 himself. He felt quite at home in Pompeii ; his thoughts, 
 observations, and doings in that city, show that he was 
 cheerful, — ^nay, in high spirits. 
 
 A rapid journey to Rome did not calm his already over- 
 wrought nerves, and he only seems to have enjoyed with 
 a kind of feverish haste, the honourable and friendly re- 
 ception given him by the Germans, and the distinguished 
 artists residing there. After a few days he was carried to 
 his rest near the Pyramid of Cestius, at the spot for which 
 
 * See lietters 229 and 381. 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEB. 441 
 
 his father used to long, in poetic dreams, before he was 
 bom. Perhaps his diaries will give us an opportunity, in 
 future days, of reviving and recommending to sympathetic 
 friends the memory of a youth so exceptional. 
 And thus, over graves, forward ! 
 
 G. 
 
 341. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Monday, 14th March, 1831. 
 ■ ... I HAVE only just read for the first time, about 
 L. da Vinci's cartoon, and am all the more eager to have 
 the print before my eyes ; meanwhile, an anyhow kind of 
 composition dances before my imagination. It is all very 
 well for you to talk, my beloved, about my explaining your 
 Fugues ! * You have grown up from childhood, surrounded, 
 and inspired by such treasures. To be sure, we saw old 
 Fritz on horseback, lifting his hat to the passers-by, — and 
 that was good too. There were Collections here also, but a 
 dragon always sat at the door, stretching out his claw for 
 a ducat. One had to struggle, to submit, if not to be 
 refused. Princess Amalie once let me see her music books, 
 — the titles, — through a glass door. Then she took out a 
 work, held it in her hands, turned over the leaves, and let 
 me have a peep at them. Then I made a dart, and seized 
 the folio volume out of her hands. She stepped back, and 
 made eyes like carriage- wheels ; they were the eyes of her 
 great brother. Had I known Homer in those days, she 
 
 would have been my ox-eyed goddess 
 
 Yours, 
 Z, 
 
 342. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, Holy Thursday, 31st March, 1831. 
 First of all I must tell you, that I have received a 
 delightful and circumstantial letter from Felix, dated 
 
 • In a previous letter, Goethe had promised Zelter an engraving of a 
 picture by Leonardo da Vinci, adding, " Frame it and glaze it at once, 
 — keep it before your eyes, all your life long, — refresh and edify your- 
 self with it. Really — by way of analogy — you should be able to explain 
 to me, better than anyone else, this leading Tugue of the power of Art 
 over Form." 
 
442 GOETHE'S LBTTBKS [1831. 
 
 Rome, the 5tli of March ; it gives me a transparent picture 
 of that rare young fellow. His parents and friends in 
 Berlin will no doubt receive similar accounts, written with 
 the same disciplined freedom. For him we need have no 
 further anxiety; the fine swimming-jacket of his talent 
 will carry him safely through the waves and surf of the 
 dreaded barbarism. 
 
 Now, I dare say you will remember, that I have always 
 passionately adopted the cause of the minor third, and was 
 angry that you theoretical cheap- jacks of music would not 
 allow it to be a donum Naturae. Of course a piece of gut or 
 wire is not so precious, that Nature should exclusively con- 
 fide her harmonies to it alone. Man is worth more, and 
 Nature has given him the minor third, to enable him to 
 express with cordial delight to himself, that which he can- 
 not name, and that for which he longs. Man belongs to 
 /Nature, and he it is, who can take up into himself, control, 
 and modify the tenderest relations of all the elementary 
 phenomena combined. 
 
 Why, chemists make use of the animal organism as 
 a Reagent, and shall we persist in sticking to mechanically 
 definable relations of sound, while we are driving the 
 noblest of gifts out of Nature into the domain of arbitrary 
 artificiality ? 
 
 You will pardon me. My interest in the subject has 
 been excited lately, and I should like above all things to 
 
 let yott know where I obstinately insist, and why 
 
 Ever yours indefatigably, 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 343. — Zbltee to Goethe. 
 
 Wednesday, 6th April, 1831. 
 
 .... Spontini, who is full of your praises, let me 
 
 know at once that yon were in good case. He is going to 
 
 send you his Athenienserirmen ; you have promised him 
 
 good advice, which will, I hope, meet with an equally good 
 
 reception 
 
 I have heard Beethoven'si''i(?efio again, withgreatpleasure. 
 The composer has been admirably successful, just in those 
 parts where the poem is weak to a degree ; he has breathed 
 
1831.] TO ZELTER. 443 
 
 such life into one sad, dreary scene in particular, that I 
 marvel again and again, when I hear it. This is the 
 advantage we derive from genius : it offends and recon- 
 ciles, it wounds and heals ; one must go along with it, there 
 is no use stoppipg and loitering. 
 
 Tonrs, 
 Z. 
 
 344. — Zbltbe to Goethe. 
 
 i4tli April, 1831. 
 I HAVE lately heard Der Qott und die Bajadere, a new 
 
 opera by Scribe, with music, songs, and ballet, by Auber 
 
 The music is not to be despised, and has many happy pas- 
 sages, though it is much criticised, and so am I, for trying 
 to discover a good vein in it. On the other hand, Madame 
 St. Romain, the Bajadere elect, was incessantly applauded, 
 
 though here and there, individuals objected Your 
 
 honest, sympathetic interest in my music is ever present 
 with me ; just so, I think of you as one of our audience, 
 especially when everything is in good trim, and goes off 
 slick. Schale, our late Cathedral organist, Graun's most 
 devoted worshipper, told me as far back as six-and-thirty 
 years ago, how he wished his departed friend, Graun, could 
 have heard his music performed in that way. I need not 
 feel ashamed of that, when I have earned already close 
 upon twenty thousand Thalers by this work, though to be 
 sure they have all gone in dinners. Who knows, how else 
 I should have been forced. to earn the money? .... 
 
 Dr. Seebeck has sent me your two poems on the birth- 
 day-festival of our old friend, Mara ; they were printed in 
 Reval, with another, by a local poet. I suppose you have 
 seen them. 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
 345. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 19th April, 1831. 
 .... Yestbedat, thanks to Moser, we had an 
 extraordinarily good performance here of Beethoven's 
 
Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 Oratorio, OJirist on the Mount of Olwes. The work appears 
 to be a fragment, and it seems as if the composer had 
 adapted his own text. Witness the following : — 
 
 1. In the Introduction, we recognize the deep, sorrowful, 
 heartfelt prayer of a soul in the keen agony of a fresh grief. 
 The full Orchestra is like an overcharged heart, a pulse of 
 superhuman power. I was deeply moved. After the In- 
 troduction, Christ sings (upon the Mount of Olives) :— 
 
 "Jehovah, Thou my Father, send 
 Comfort, power, and strength to me ! 
 It is now at hand, the hour of my sufferings. 
 Chosen by me already, ere yet the world 
 At Thy command, from Chaos did emerge," &c. 
 
 The underlined words stand in the happiest connection, 
 employed with marvellous art, simply as picturesque 
 motifs, — something like an exercise in sketching, when, 
 between five or more given points, chosen at random, a 
 beautiful form, or group, has to be drawn in by a master- 
 hand. The nonsense of the words vanishes, familiar tones 
 appear as if we had never heard them before, — ^we are 
 carried away. 
 
 No. 4. The soldiers, who are to seize Jesus, march like 
 regular troops to the attack, and sing, first softly, and then 
 more loudly : — - 
 
 " We have seen Him 
 Going to the mountain, 
 He cannot escape. 
 Judgment awaits Him." 
 
 The music of the march is beyond all praise, and if the 
 Russians have anything like it, Grod help their enemies ! 
 At last the disciples are aroused, and sing, still half 
 
 " What means the noise ? 
 How will it fare with us ?" &c. 
 
 And now a Trio begins : Peter wants to interfere, Jesus 
 commands submission, and a Seraph, who at an earlier 
 stage was already conspicuous, like Saul among the pro- 
 phets, now joins with them, each keeping his own style. 
 Meanwhile, the soldiers are at their work, and coarse enough : 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEE. 445 
 
 " Up ! Seize the beti-ayer ! 
 Tarry here no longer ! 
 Drag Him hastily to judgment !" 
 
 and so on. Thereupon peals forth a final chorns of 
 angels only, " Worlds unborn shall sing His praise" &c. 
 Even if the work has no style as a whole, yet all is dis- 
 solved and fused into the most refreshing forms, with so 
 beneficial and happy an efEect, that it is like a pleasant 
 summer night's dream. Viewed critically, the work is a 
 fragment, parts of which are wanting, and one could dis- 
 pense with a book altogether. Still one must have it close 
 at hand, if only to convince oneself with surprise, of the 
 truth of what Ramler tells me about Graun, incidental to 
 the Tod Jesu, " Only words, my dear Bamler ! Only give 
 me words, I will make the rest." The rest ! — is not that 
 nice? . , . . 
 
 Z. 
 
 346. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimai-, 24th April, 1831. 
 
 .... I HAVE received a very graceful autograph 
 letter from Madame Mara, to the efEect that the poet de- 
 serves all praise, for the pretty and transparent manner in 
 which he recognized and clearly expressed a connection, 
 which spun its invisible threads through many a year 
 
 A passage in one of your earlier letters, which I came 
 across, whilst reading them over again, brought my thoughts 
 back to the minor third ; your last explanation has com- 
 pletely set my mind at rest, for what exists in Nature, must 
 after all one day be avowedly taken up in theory and prac- 
 tice. 
 
 Tour friend Graun, who only requires words, in order to 
 make music, reminds me of Telemann with his playbill. 
 Those good people respect neither the value of words, nor 
 the powerful variety of their art. Bad thoughts, bad 
 verses, they can make use of, and perhaps they prefer these, 
 as it enables them to act with perfect freedom. Tou have 
 given an admirable sketch of the opportunities, which 
 significant words, even in an absurd connection, afEord the 
 musician 
 
446 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 The Ya/mpyr* has been repeated here; the subject is 
 detestable, but, from all I hear, the piece, as an Opera, is very 
 well thought of. There you are ! Significant situations 
 arranged in an artful succession, and the musician is sure 
 of applause. Words, in a rational, sensible connection, 
 afEord the same opportunity, as you have so often proved in 
 the case of my poems. 
 
 Commending you to the best spirits of earth and air ! 
 
 G. 
 
 347. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 lOth May, 1831. 
 . , , . Felix — so his father tells me — has arrived in 
 Naples ; I have not heard from him. 
 
 I suppose you would like to have my version of the 
 Oamvpanella, which I enclose for you in score. The solo- 
 singer must fix the tempo, in accordance with his own well- 
 regulated feeling, and the movement must then be kept 
 going evenly, up to the end. I hate the chronometer, and 
 still more the man who is nowhere without it. The 
 theorists would make an end of me ; why, they actually 
 misled the excellent Beethoven into putting tempi to his 
 works, which do not bear it in the least. What can't go 
 and stand by itself, to the devil with it ! . . . . 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 348. — Zblter to Goethe. 
 
 19th May, 1831. 
 Old KoENEKf died last Friday, and yesterday 
 evening, his body was taken to Wobbelin, to be buried 
 beside his children. There was a great gathering in the 
 house of m.onmers, speeches were made, and hymns sung ; 
 he was a zealous member of the Singakademie. I was not 
 present, and at my time of life, I must decline such emo- 
 
 * An Opera, written by Heinrich Marsehner in 1828, It had a great 
 success in London, the following year, and ran for sixty nights at the 
 Lyceum Theatre, 
 
 •)■ Father of Theodor Kbrner, the poet. 
 
1831. j TO ZELTER. 447 
 
 tions. We shall follow soon enongh, if not by way of 
 Wobbelin. 
 
 A young actor, Emil Devrient, is starring here ; I have 
 seen him twice, and like him. Figure, voice, elocution, 
 and stage-business are fairly in keeping ; he actually re- 
 minded me of our Wolfi, who left a considerable gap, when 
 he was lost to our stage. West's Dorma Diana is a most 
 charming play, a true comedy ; Devrient played Don Casar, 
 and was quite up to the mark, for the play is always a 
 favourite here. 
 
 Our Opera too is a sickly body ; they are obliged to 
 come to the doors of pensioned-ofi members, and submit 
 to their rather arrogant demands. Madame Milder gets, 
 over and above her pension, a hundred and fifty Thalers for 
 every Opera, and for one of Spontini's, she asks fifty Louis 
 d'or, because he is guilty of her being pensioned off. This 
 I had from Spontini himself. 
 
 Demoiselle Schechner of Munich asks five thousand 
 Thalers yearly, two thousand five hundred as a pension for 
 life, and three month's leave every year ; further, her own 
 choice of parts, and full pay, when absent from sickness, 
 
 So says Count Redern, our present Intendant 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 349. — Goethe to Zblteb. 
 
 Weimar, 1st June, 1831. 
 Do not fail, my good Friend, to continue sending 
 me, from time to time, a few sheafs from the rich harvest 
 of the outer world, to which you are sent, unlike myself, 
 who am confined wholly to the inner life of my garden- 
 hermitage. In one word, let me tell you, that I submit to 
 this, in order to finish the Second Part of my FomsL It is 
 no trifle, in the eighty-second year of one's age, to repre- 
 sent objectively, that which was conceived at the age of 
 twenty, and to furnish a living skeleton, like this, with 
 sinews, flesh, and skin ; probably also, I shall cast over it, 
 when finished, some folds of drapery besides, so that the 
 whole may be an open riddle, to delight mankind for ever 
 and aye, and give them something to think of 
 
448 soethe's lbttees [1831. 
 
 Have you seen the four series of marginal drawings, by 
 Nenreuther, for my Parables and Poems ? Thsy are not 
 regularly out for sale, but I do not know who is to blame 
 for it. 
 
 He has honoured me with a most charming illustration, 
 in large folio, admirably drawn with the pen. His text is 
 the Parable, I stood at my garden gate. His penetration 
 into the meaning is really wonderful; nay, — and this is 
 most remarkable, — his modest courage has set forth what 
 is arrogantly mysterious in the poem 
 
 I often feel inclined to draw up the noteworthy results 
 of my silent, solitary reflection, but then I give up the idea 
 again. Por, after all, these things might occur to anyone, 
 if he entered into certain relations, where he cannot dis- 
 pense with what is rational 
 
 Tours ever, 
 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
 350. — GrOETHB TO ZeLTBE. 
 
 Weimar, 9th Jnne, 1831. 
 .... The first important thing I take in hand is 
 the discussion about your coat-of-arms. I am sending 
 back the model, made by our excellent Pacius,* together 
 with another, made by a clever young fellow here ; at the 
 same time, I am telling her what else she ought to con- 
 sider, so that our good little artist may, with ease and 
 freedom, attain the end she has in view. I shall be pleased 
 if it has a cheerful look about it ; a light little cross of 
 honour is always rather enjoyable. ITo rational man ought 
 to trouble himself to unearth and set up the wretched 
 wood of torture, the most repulsive thing under the sun. 
 That was work for a bigoted Empress-Mother f ; we ought 
 to be ashamed to carry her train. Pardon me ! but were 
 you here, you would have to put up with even more. At 
 eighty-two years of age, we are, in fact, more serious in 
 and with ourselves, but we let the poor dear world wander 
 on, in God's name, in the fool's life it has led for many 
 
 * Angelica I'aoius, daughter of an engraver in Berlin. 
 + Helena, mothei* of Constantine the Great. 
 
1831,] TO ZBLTER. 449 
 
 thousand years. It is frightful to see, how it prides itself 
 over and over again upon its errors ! 
 
 I find, on reading this over again, that I should like to 
 withhold it ; this is very constantly my feeling now, for as 
 one does not even like to say what one thinks, why should 
 it occur to one to write thus ? 
 
 After all these somewhat Timonian utterances, — which 
 one should not always deny oneself, — I may, I think, tell 
 you in confidence, that since the beginning of the year, 
 many efEorts of mine have proved successful ; I hold to this, 
 since I at least, could not improve upon them. Now you 
 will have learnt all about my literary bequests 
 
 In the Bevue de Pa/ris, No. 1, the 1st of May, in the third 
 year's issue, there is a curious article on Paganini. It is 
 written by a doctor, who knew and attended him for many 
 years ; he shows in a very able manner, that the musical 
 talent of that remarkable man was influenced by the con- 
 formation of his body, and by the proportions of his limbs, 
 which helped, nay, compelled him to do what seemed in- 
 credible, — ^impossible even. This leads the rest of us back 
 to our former conviction, that the organic functions cause 
 the strange phenomena of living beings. 
 
 As I have still some room left, I will here write down one 
 of the greatest sayings, which our ancestors have bequeathed 
 to us : "Animals are instructed through their orga/as." 
 
 Now if we reflect, how much of the animal is still left 
 in man, and that he is capable of instructing his organs, 
 we shall always return willingly to these considerations. 
 And now, into the envelope with all speed, before I repent 
 of having put such strange things on paper ! 
 
 Thus, as ever, yours, 
 
 J. W. V. GrOETHl. 
 
 351. GrOETHB TO Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 9th June, 1831. 
 
 .... The French Theatre will never cease to be 
 
 instructive in the design, as well as in the execution of its 
 
 bright, social comedies. Here, Art and technique are more 
 
 than a hundred years old, it is a metier with an ancestry, — 
 
 G G 
 
460 goithe's letters [1831. 
 
 while with us, one wearies oneself in vain. Onr actors 
 no longer know anything more about Art, and they have 
 no idea whatever of the handicraft ; everything stUl de- 
 pends upon this and that individual person. But enough 
 of this; I have long since turned my back upon that 
 region. Still, the " pros and cons " about the shortcomings 
 of the actors, the claims made upon them, and their feeble- 
 ness of response, are being constantly poured into my ears, 
 by those of my own household, and other intimate fripnds. 
 No more to-day; continue to write to me, and stir 
 me up. 
 
 Thus, as ever ! 
 G. 
 
 362. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 10th June, 1831. 
 .... I MUST save myself in my own way ; other- 
 wise it won't do. I should require a considerable time, be- 
 fore I ventured to say, whether Sargines * is a good Opera, 
 or not. Hitherto, I had heard it without knowing the text, 
 and could not enter into it. Paer, productive and instruc- 
 tive as he is, has been for a long time the pet of the singing 
 tribe. He himself is said to have sung his own songs with 
 so much grace, that such a man as Napoleon for instance, 
 whom I consider genuine, as he was not in the habit of put- 
 ting constraint upon himself, was enchanted with the perfor- 
 mance ; this kind of thing surprises me. So now I have given 
 myself a libretto, and am beginning to use my eyes 
 
 15th June, 
 .... The enclosed is a copy of an extract from one 
 of our Felix's letters ; I dare say he is back again in Rome 
 by this time. His father positively refused to let him see 
 Sicily. He may have his reasons, but the father of a duti- 
 ful son should know the limits of his power. I have taken 
 care to point this out to the old gentleman. 
 
 * This Opera was written by Ferdinando Paer, at Dresden, in 1803. 
 In 1806 Paer accompanied Napoleon to Warsaw and Posen, was made 
 his mattre de cha^elle the following year, and subsequently took up his 
 abode in Paris. 
 
1831.] to zelter. 451 
 
 Enclostjeb. 
 
 " 7th May, 1831. 
 " Sterne has become a great favourite with me. I 
 remembered that Goethe, -when talking about The Senti- 
 mental Journey, once said, that the frowardness and despon- 
 dency of the human heart could not possibly be better 
 expressed, and when I chanced upon the volume acciden- 
 tally, I thought I should like to make myself acquainted 
 with it. I am delighted with the free handling of the sub- 
 ject throughout, and the sharp, incisive writing. Here I get 
 very little German to read, so I am limited to Goethe's poems, 
 which Hauser presented me with, and, by Heaven, there is 
 enough food there for reflection ; they are always new. The 
 poems that specially interest me here, are those which he evi- 
 dently wrote in or near Naples, e.g. Alexis vmd Bora; for I see 
 almost daily before my window, how that marvellous poem 
 arose — nay, as happens with all masterpieces, I often think 
 of it involuntarily, and without preparation, so that it seems 
 to me, that the same thing must have struck me too under 
 similar circumstances, and that it was only an accident, 
 that he expressed it. I maintain that I have actually found 
 the locality of the poem, Oott segne Dich, junge Frau; * I 
 maintain that I have actually dined with the Frau, though 
 naturally she must by this time have become quite an 
 old woman, and the babe at her breast, a lusty vinedresser ; 
 there they were both of them. Between Pozzuoli and 
 Baise lies her house, ' the ruins of a temple,' and to Cumae 
 ' 'tis a good three miles.' So you can imagiae, how the 
 poems are renewed for one, and how difBerently and freshly 
 they affect one, on closer acquaintance. I really cannot 
 speak of Mignon's Song. But seeing that Goethe and 
 Thorwaldsen are alive, and Beethoven only died a few years 
 
 ago, — what madness for H to maintain that German 
 
 Art-is as dead as a door-nail ! Quod non " 
 
 Continuation. 
 
 I could support in my own Lustance, your conviction of 
 the effect of organism upon the intellectual nature. Morally 
 
 * Der Wanderer. See Letter 356, 
 
462 Goethe's lettbes [1831. 
 
 too it has sometliiiig to do with the most remarkable in- 
 dividuals of my personal acquaintance. One might say of 
 old Bach, that the pedal was the ground-element of the 
 developement of his unfathomable intellect, and that with- 
 out feet, he never could have attained his intellectual height. 
 Thus I fail to understand the strange question which Les- 
 sing makes his painter ask, Whether Raphael would have 
 been just as great a genius, if he had been born without 
 hands ? Here is a man, (our painter Begas,) who can carry 
 a pinch of tobacco to his nose, with his arm stretched round 
 the back of his neck. Perhaps such elasticity belongs to 
 a painter ; but had I been so endowed, my talent, eager- 
 ness, and industry would have made me the best of violin- 
 players, for all my instincts drove me to that instrument, 
 which I practised unweariedly, — and by so doing, helped 
 on the gout in my hand. In spite of that, in earlier days, 
 I played firSt-rate music on the violin, both in drawing- 
 rooms and churches, and I was successful in public with 
 Tartini's, Benda's, Celli's, and Oorelli's concertos. To sum 
 up — in the human organism there dwells a soul, which 
 seeks for its fellow, as you long ago expressed it, when 
 you said that one talent hinges on another. » . . . 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 363. — GoiTHB TO Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 18th June, 1831. 
 
 .... As the world is now, we are forced to say to 
 ourselves, and to repeat it again and again, that good people 
 "^ have existed and will exist, and that we must not grudge 
 them the expression of a kind word in writing, but bequeath 
 it as a written legacy. This is the Communion of Saints, 
 of which we confess ourselves members. "With the lips I 
 am but rarely willing to utter an absolutely truthful word ; 
 usually, people hear something different to what I say, — 
 and that too is perhaps as well. 
 
 However, I have been rewarded for my patience and per- 
 severance, by a drawing of Sachtleben's, an artist of the 
 seventeenth century, a pupil and a master of the epoch in 
 Art then flourishing. The little sketch is square, and 
 
1831.J TO ZELTBE. 453 
 
 slightly coloured. He had fallen in love with the country 
 about the Rhine; his best pictures represent scenes of this 
 description, and this is one of them. 
 
 The remarkable point about this little drawing is, that we 
 see Nature and the artist on an equal footing, as peaceful 
 friends together. It is he who perceives her advantages, and 
 who acknowledges and tries most fairly to come to terms 
 with them. Here there is already thought and reflection, a 
 definite consciousness of what Art ought to and can accom- 
 plish, — and yet we see the innocence of never-changing 
 Nature quite untouched. 
 
 The sight of this picture kept me upright, nay, so great 
 was its influence, that when for the moment, I was out of 
 sorts, and stepped in front of it, I really felt myself unworthy 
 to look at it. The clever, courageous fellow, who, hundreds 
 of years ago, wrote down this sort of thing amid the brightest 
 surroundings, could scarcely tolerate such a pitiful spectator 
 as I was, in the midst of the gloomy Thuringian hillocks. 
 But when I wiped my eyes and got up again, why then in- 
 deed, it was cheerful day, as of old. 
 
 Now, however, I am moved to lead you into very different 
 regions, for I must tell you briefly, that owing to the whirl 
 of ephemeral publications, I have been dragged into the 
 boundless horrors of the latest literature of French novels. 
 In one word, it is a Literature of despair. In order to pro- 
 duce an immediate effect — just that one edition may 
 follow on another, as quickly as possible — the opposite 
 of everything that ought to be offered to man for his 
 good, is so forced upon the reader, that in the end he no 
 longer knows how to save himself. To outbid the hate- 
 ful, the repulsive, the horrible, the worthless, and all that 
 abandoned tribe, by the impossible, is their Satanic business. 
 One ought to and must, I suppose, say business, for it is 
 • based upon deep study of olden times, of past conditions, of 
 strange complications, and incredible facts, so that one 
 ought not to call such a work either empty or bad. More- 
 over, it is men of marked talent who undertake this kind of 
 thing, intellectually eminent, middle-aged writers, who feel 
 condemned, throughout life, to occupy themselves with 
 
 these abominations 
 
 G-. 
 
454 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 354. — Zeltbe to Goethe, 
 
 Wednesday, 22nd June, 1831. 
 
 .... I AM just skimming throagli the Life of 
 Schiller, as told by his sister-in-law, Frau von Wolzogen. 
 Such a collection of letters, each of which was despatched 
 at its own time, to its own place, and under various circum- 
 stances, is an important item in the literary world. Any- 
 one who knew Schiller in his best days, must wonder how 
 such a fruitful tree could grow up, out of the philandering 
 life he led for so many of the bright years of his youth. 
 Comparing the women in his Tragedies with the race he 
 was obliged to make shift with, one would suppose that 
 education and culture worked their own opposites. I hope 
 to find the second part more interesting, for barring the 
 name of that noble poet, which is always dear to me, the 
 long-drawn phrases devoted to the mutual billing and 
 
 cooing are rather meagre food 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 355. — Zelteb to Gobxhe. 
 
 Undated. 
 
 .... Aftbe all, the book, [Schiller's Life,] remains 
 an historical document, on account of the original letters ; 
 J. Kant's and Herder's are -a real ornament to it. The 
 last days and hours of that noble man are very touching,- 
 and provoked me to weep hot tears. In one's old age, it is 
 a glory to have seen such lights burning ; everyone may 
 pride himself to some extent, on having been a contemporary 
 of such men as I have seen, the like of whom the world will 
 not soon again be mistaken in. 
 
 The summary of thoughts at the end of the book, de- 
 rived from Schiller's personal conversation, as recorded by 
 Fraulein von Wurmb, might well have been omitted. 
 According to her, Schiller is made to say, " One ought not 
 to give children too early a conception of God ; the demand 
 ought much rather to come forth from within." As regards 
 children, they understand well enough, if you only refrajn 
 from trying to tell them, what you do not know yourself. 
 
1831.] TO ZELTKE. 455 
 
 On the other hand, it is quite another matter when Schiller 
 himself says, " That at times he could have been unphilo- 
 sophical enough, to give up all he knew of Elementary 
 j^sthetics for an empirical advantage, for the grip of a 
 craftsman." .... 
 
 To-day, the 29th of June, I have received a letter 
 from Felix, dated the 16th of this month, and written 
 from Rome ; I expect it is the last I shall get from that 
 quarter, and it is damaged by the quarantine regulations. 
 It contains an account of the Easter functions in the 
 Sistine Chapel, during the Holy Week. The lad did 
 not let a single note escape him ; he looks at the whole 
 thing historically, without betraying the foreigner and 
 the heretic. It says something for him, that he can grasp 
 the whole, which was well planned originally, though 
 now worn away to rags, and also that he can recognize 
 the hollow body, behind the outward dignity and gran- 
 deur 
 
 In setting your poems to music, I have been obliged to 
 look around me for a locality, to see how and where they 
 arose, and as many a one of my melodies has taken your 
 fancy, the apple cannot have fallen so very far from the 
 tree. I can boast of similar good fortune with several very 
 different poets. Schiller, Voss, Matthisson, Tieck, Tiedge, 
 and even Klopstock, have praised my melodies. When 
 Naumann's eldest son was born, the Countess Eliza com- 
 missioned Himmel, myself, and others, to set to music a 
 Gradle-Song she had written for him. Naumann, the 
 father of the child, was himself to select the piece that 
 pleased him most, without knowing the names of the 
 authors. He said, that in the melody which he liked best, 
 he recognized Himmel, his pet pupil — but that melody was 
 mine. 
 
 7th July, 1831. 
 On Sunday, the 3rd of July, Schinkel's new Church was 
 at last consecrated The second and younger clergy- 
 man, who recited the Liturgy before the Altar, complained 
 that preaching here must be a difficult mattSr, because of 
 the height of the Church, and that if the Church was 
 empty, there would be too much of an echo. For empty 
 
456 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 Churches, I kno-w no better remedy than full thoughts,/ 
 clearly and purely expressed. On the other hand, if de-/ 
 frauded of its rights, the great building rears itself, resist- 
 ing, and rings hollow. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 356. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 28th Jane, 1831. 
 ToTTB Potsdam expedition * gives the rest of us 
 meditative people a fine opportunity of tracing out that 
 egoism and anarchy, by means of which everyone forces his 
 way in where he has no business, to some agreeable post, 
 which he cannot properly fill. But after all, this much can 
 be said in praise of anarchy, that when once it has a fixed 
 aim in view, it looks about it for a dictator, and sees that 
 that is the right thing. 
 
 The advantage, however, that you musicians have over 
 all other artists is that a universal, universally-accepted 
 foundation exists for the whole, as well as for the parts, so 
 that anyone can write a score, with the full assurance of get- 
 ting it performed, whatever it may be. Tou have your pro- 
 vince, your laws, your symbolic language, which everybody 
 must understand. Everyone of you, even though he had to 
 perform the work of his deadly enemy, would necessarily, on 
 this occasion, do what was required of him. There is no Art, 
 — scarcely any handicraft even, — that can boast of the like. 
 Tou may cling to what is oldest without pedantry, you can 
 revel in what is newest without heresy and obstruction ; 
 and even if an individual of your circle produces something 
 strange and unusual, still in the end it must be made to 
 coincide with the totality of the Orchestra. 
 
 And now a word or two about the excellent PeUx. Herr 
 Papa was very wrong in not allowing him to go to Sicily ; the 
 young man will feel unsatisfied, and that might have been 
 avoided. In one of my last letters from Sicily, or the sub- 
 sequent one from Naples, there must be some tr&,ces of the 
 
 • Zelter had been summoned to Potsdam, to take the place of a 
 Conductor, who was too ill to lead a performance of Haydn's Oratorio, 
 The Creation. 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEE. 457 
 
 unpleasant impression, lef b on my mind by that idolized 
 island ; I -will not bore you, by returning to this subject. 
 
 In the second place, I must tell you — but in this you must 
 not betray me — that that poem, JDer Wanderer, was written 
 in the year 1771, and therefore several years before my 
 Journey to Italy. But this is the poet's advantage, that 
 he can feel beforehand the value of a thing, which the seeker 
 of reality loves with a double love and greatly rejoices over, 
 when he finds and recognizes it in actual existence. 
 
 In many an hour of quiet mental work, when you are 
 continually in my thoughts, I too have been drawn towards 
 modem French literature, and on such occasions, have been 
 led to reflect on the Religion Simonienne. The leaders of this 
 sect are very clever people, they know very accurately the 
 defects of our time, and they understand too, how to bring 
 forward a worthy ideal ; but when they want to arrogate 
 to themselves the power of removing what is unseemly, and 
 promoting the ideal, they go dead lame. The fools imagine, 
 that they can play Providence judiciously, and certify that 
 everyone will be rewarded, according to his merits, if he 
 joins himself to them wholly — body and soul — and becomes 
 one of them. 
 
 What man, what society dare express such sentiments ? 
 seeing that we cannot easily know anyone from- his youth 
 up, nor criticise the rise of his activity. How else does 
 character finally prove itself, if it is not formed by the 
 activity of the day, by reflective agencies which counteract 
 each other ? Who would venture to determine the value of 
 contingencies, impulses, after-effects ? Who dare estimate 
 the influence of elective affinities ? At all events, he who 
 would presume to estimate what man is, must take into 
 consideration what he was, and how he became so. But 
 such barefaced pretensions are common, and we have often 
 enough met with them ; indeed they are always recurring, 
 and they must be tolerated. 
 
 These thoughts occurred to me in connection with St. 
 Simonism, and no doubt it might suggest many other sub- 
 jects for thought. 
 
 Of the latest productions in the way of French novels, 
 and the literature nearest akin to them, I will only say 
 thus much, — it is a literature of despair, from which by 
 
458 Goethe's letties [1831. 
 
 degrees everything true, everything aesthetic, is banishing 
 itself. In Notre Dame de Pa/ris, Victor Hngo allures 
 the reader by the good use he makes of his earnest 
 studies of old localities, customs, and events, but there 
 is no trace whatever of natural life in the persons of 
 the actors. These inanimate male and female lay figures 
 are constructed according to very correct proportions, but 
 except for their wooden and iron skeletons, they are 
 absolutely mere stuffed puppets, which the author treats in 
 the most merciless manner, turning and twisting them into 
 the strangest positions, torturing and lashing them, lacera- 
 ting them in mind and body — though indeed they have no 
 real body — and mangling and tearing them to pieces, with- 
 out pity. All this, however, is done with decided historical, 
 rhetorical talent, and it cannot be denied, that the author 
 possesses a vivid imagination, for without it he never could 
 produce such abominations. 
 
 Tour letters, including the announcement of the musical 
 flower- fete, have arrived safely ; I was specially glad to 
 hear from you. So much for to-day. 
 
 Tours as ever, 
 G. 
 
 357. — Goethe to Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, lath August, 1831, 
 
 .... I HAVE lately been presented with some hand- 
 some elephants' teeth, dug out of our gravel-pits, which are 
 being busily worked for the construction of roads. Just 
 fancy ! The outer part, with which the elephant chews, has 
 roots, which however recede, and either chew likewise, or 
 remain for ever unused. 
 
 Nature does nothing in vain is an old Philistine maxim. 
 She works ever vitally, superfluously, and lavishly, so that 
 the Infinite may be ever present, because nothing can last. 
 
 Herein I fancy I am actually approaching the philosophy 
 of Hegel, which otherwise both attracts and repels me ; — 
 may a good Grenius be gracions to us all ! 
 
 As the Royal Theatre has found out the right way of 
 filling its exchequer, I send you the latest antithesis, which 
 the worthy descendants of the ancient Thespis have been 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEE. 459 
 
 able to arrive at. I enclose the original, as otherwise it 
 ■would not be credited, but let me have it back. 
 
 ' " Thecdrical announcement. 
 
 " Garlstadt, the 10th of July, 1823, for the benefit of Herr 
 Ignaz Viol and his daughter LudmUle : 
 
 Menschenhass und Beue, {Misanthropy and Bepentcmce,') 
 a Tragedy never seen here hitherto ; imfortunately it is by the 
 fallen Kotzebue ; it consists of six Acts, together with a Pro- 
 logue, which will be recited separately, at the end of the piece, 
 by Herr Viol. 
 
 " Postscript. Many pressing debts place us im, the agreeable 
 dilemma of our creditors, so that we carmot travel further. I 
 act the old man, my Ludmille plays lEulalia, therefore do not 
 let us go to grief; Misanthropy is unknown to the inhabitants 
 of this town. Repentance is unknown to us, for having wandered 
 hither. Therefore we ask for encouragement, for we really are 
 reduced to nothing." 
 
 But may all good spirits grant us ungrudgingly, what 
 we have hitherto enjoyed. So be it ! 
 
 J. W. T. Goethe. 
 
 Enclosure . 
 
 "London, 29th July, 1831. 
 "I have written to you so long and so often about 
 political matters, that it is pleasant for once, to be able to 
 begin a letter with something quite apart from politics, 
 though it will certainly interest all your German readers. 
 To-day a present was sent from England to your old master, 
 Goethe, which does honour to those who give, as well as 
 to the honoured man who receives it. It consists of a 
 large seal for his writing-table. On a beautiful stona, 
 greenish in colour, is engraved a serpent, biting its own 
 tail; the motto is Ohne Bast aber ohne Hast, (Without rest, 
 ' but without haste,) a simple and beautiful reference to the 
 activity of the great man. The stone is set in a claw of pure 
 gold, some two inches long, upon which are a number of 
 alleo-orical ornamentations in relief, partially overlaid with 
 coloured enamel. One of these is the horse, the emblem of 
 England, and another is a wreath of oak leaves, which 
 
460 Goethe's letters [1831, 
 
 is probably meant to represent Germany. There are 
 two masks, and two comncopise, with the inscription, 
 ' From !Priends in England to the German Master.' 
 This beantiful work of art, (from the workshops of 
 the eminent goldsmiths, Salter, Widdowson, and Tate,) 
 is the gift of nineteen Englishmen and Scotchmen, 
 (each of whom subscribed two guineas,) admirers of 
 German literature, and of ' the German Master.' At the 
 head of the list stands Thomas Ga/rl/yle, the author of a 
 Biography of Schiller, that has been translated into German ; 
 I expect his brother, Br. Oarlyle, suggested the undertaking. 
 Then follow the names of W. Fraser, the Editor of the 
 Foreign Review, Dr. Magien, a clever writer, Hercmd, the 
 author of the pithy article on Klopstook and the Stolbergs, 
 in the above Review, and the present Editor of that 
 excellent periodical, Fraser' s Magazine ; G. Movi, one of the 
 translators of Schiller's Wallenstein, and Churchill, whose 
 masterly translation of Wallenstein' s Lager appeared in 
 Fraser' s Magazine; Jerdan, the Editor of the Literary 
 Gazette ; Professor Wilson, Editor of Blackwood's Magazine; 
 Sir Walter Scott, and his son-in-law, LoahJiard, the present 
 Editor of the Qua/rterly Review; Lord Fra/nois Leivison Oower, 
 the translator of Faust; the poets, Southey, Wordsworth, 
 and Prorter, {Barry Cornwall,) — a brilliant constellation, 
 whose friendly sign of recognition from the far-off northern 
 horizon cannot fail to touch the noble old man, and give 
 him pleasure." * 
 
 • This ill-spelt letter is from a London correspondent of Zelter's. 
 See Lyster's Translation of Duntzer's Life of Goethe, vol. ii. p. 472, 
 for an explanation, and Lewes's Life of Goethe, p. 559. For Magein 
 read Maginn ; for Herimd, Heraud ; for Movi, Moir ; for Lochhari, 
 Lockhart; for Lewison Gower, Levison Gower; for Prorter, Procter. 
 Carlyle himself conceived the idea of making this present to Goethe, 
 and the design of the seal, — the serpent of Eternity, encircling a star, — 
 was sicetched by Mrs.' Carlyle. The motto is a quotation from some 
 well-known lines of Goethe's, which Carlyle, in his Essay on Goethe's 
 Wor^s, afterwards translated thus : 
 
 Like as a star. 
 That maketh not haste. 
 That taketh not rest, 
 Be each one fulfilhng 
 His god-given Hest. 
 
1831.] TO ZBLTEB. 461 
 
 358. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 20th August, 1831. 
 . . . . As I connect your handsome present * with my 
 approaching birthday, I must also tell you of the famous 
 gift I have received from the other side of the Channel. 
 Fifteen English Friends,f as they sign themselves, have had 
 a seal niade for me by the first goldsmiths in the country ; 
 it is something like an oblong vase in shape, so that you 
 can hold it conveniently in the hollow of your hand. Its 
 workmanship shows all that the united arts of the goldsmith 
 and the enameller can achieve. One is reminded of the 
 descriptions, in which Cellini is accustomed to praise his 
 own works, and they have evidently aimed at an approach 
 to the style of the sixteenth century. The English seem 
 to have found the motto, OJine Sast, dock Ohne Hast, full of 
 significance, for in the main, it is a very good description 
 of their own activity. The words are engraved round a 
 star, within the well-known serpent circle, but unfortunately 
 in old German capitals, which rather obscure the sense. The 
 gift deserves my gratitude in every respect, and I have sent 
 them a few friendly rhymes in return for it. 
 
 As the dear good Weimar folk will not let this festival 
 pass without an Ergo hibamus, (the accompaniment of so 
 many others,) and propose making capital out of various 
 other incidental circumstances, I shall probably run away 
 for a few days, even though I may not go far. It is 
 becoming more and more impossible for me, to accept in 
 person such acts of well-meant homage. The older I get, y 
 the more full of gaps do I perceive my life to be, whereas 
 others like to treat it as a whole, and make merry over 
 it 
 
 I have received from England a Review of German 
 Literat/ure, written by W. Taylor, who studied in Gottin- 
 gen forty years ago, in which he suddenly gives vent to 
 theories, opinions, and phrases, which have been my aver- 
 
 * A present of engravings, from Zelter. 
 
 t There is a discrepancy in the number. Goethe's poem, TVorte die 
 der Dichier spricU, is dedicated to his ninelem friends in England. 
 Only fifteen of the subscribers' names are known. 
 
462 GOETHE'S LBTTEES [1831. 
 
 sion for the last sixty years. Tlie ghostly voices of Messrs. 
 Sulzer, Bouterwek, and the rest frighten us now, like 
 echoes of the departed. Friend Carlyle, on the other hand, 
 defends himself like a real master, and is making great 
 advances, of which more anon. 
 
 And thus ever, yours. 
 
 359. — Zeltee to G-oethb. 
 
 Berlin, 28th August, 1831. 
 
 .... At the Smgakademie yesterday evening, we 
 began with Fasch's grand Gloria im Exoelsis Deo, followed 
 by the Chorus in sixteen parts, Laudamus Te, henedicvmus 
 Te, adoramus, &c. Afterwards, in unspoken honour of you,* 
 we had old Bach's strong, sonorous Motett, Sing to the Lord 
 a new song, let the congregation of the Saints praise Evm. I 
 knew by the performance that they had seen what I meant, 
 and they asked for that great masterpiece over again, and 
 sang it with such reverential joy, in accordance with my 
 previous instruction, that old Bach, (who was still living 
 when you were born,) must have quivered in his grave ; — 
 anyhow that was my feeling. 
 
 After the Academy, I went to the Festival, given by the 
 Society of Friends of The Poets. I came a little late, and the 
 proceedings had already begun. At that moment, Madame 
 Wolff was reciting the Fourth Act of Iphigenia. Afterwards, 
 Herr Schall read the principal Scene from Olamgo in a 
 masterly fashion, and we ended with Die Jjojume der Yer- 
 liehten, most charmihgly read by two young beauties. Then 
 we went to supper, and I was directed to take my place 
 under your bust. What ought I to have said, and how 
 ought I to have played the modest man ? As long as you 
 know who I am, that is enough for nae. Between the courses 
 at supper, poems were read ; the best part of them was their 
 brevity and the good intention of the authors. I was 
 obliged to say something, not to appear a regular stick, and- 
 instead of a speech, after your health had been proposed, 
 I read that passage in your last letter, describing the English 
 
 * The 28th of August was Goethe's birthday. 
 
1831. J TO ZELTER. 463 
 
 seal. The -wine whioh they placed before me was most 
 excellent, and I could not help noticing that I had the best. 
 It was the hour of midnight, and the second half of it I can 
 praise from my bed, 
 
 God be with you ! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 360. GOITHB TO Zelter. 
 
 Weimar, 4th September, 1831. 
 
 Tor six days, and those too the gayest of the whole 
 summer, I was absent from Weimar, having gone my 
 ways to Ilmenau, where, in former years, I worked 
 much, though a long time had elapsed since I last saw it. 
 On a lonely little wooden summer-house, at the highest 
 point of the pine forest, I recognized the inscription pf that 
 song, written on the 7th of September, 1783, which you 
 have so lovingly and soothingly sent forth to all the world, 
 upon the wings of music : 
 
 TJeher alien Gipfeln ist Buh, &c. 
 So all these years afterwards, there lay before my view 
 what abides, what has vanished. Success stood out in relief 
 and was cheering, failure was forgotten and ceased to 
 grieve. The people were all living on as before, in their 
 own way, from the charcoal-burner to the porcelain manu- 
 facturer. Iron was being smelted, and manganese procured 
 from the mines, though it is not now so much in request as 
 formerly. They were boiling pitch, and collecting soot, in 
 tubs, which were most artistically and elaborately finished. 
 Hard toilers were bringing up coals to the pit's mouth. 
 Gigantic, primaeval trunks of trees had been discovered in 
 the pit, whilst the men were at work ; one of these I forgot 
 
 to show you — ^it stands in the Garden- House 
 
 The Porsters have probably told you of the fete in Weimar 
 on my birthday ; * it went off very successfully. The 
 
 • Though Goethe had escaped from the Weimar festivities, the people 
 of nmenau would not let his birthday pass unnoticed. Early in the 
 morning, they assembled in front of the Lion Inn, where he was staying, 
 and sang the Chorale, Nun danket alle Gott ! In the evening, they per- 
 formed the miners' comedy, mentioned in Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre. 
 
464 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 pretty little person, wlioin I was so glad to see at my 
 table, made considerable effect. Ladies declare that 'her 
 exquisitely tasteful bonnet had much to do with it 
 
 Tou inquire about Faust; the Second Part is now com- 
 plete in itself. I have for many years past known per- 
 fectly well what I wanted, but only worked out those par- 
 ticular passages which interested me at the moment. 
 The consequence was that gaps became evident, and these 
 had to be filled up. I firmly resolved to set all this to rights 
 before my birthday. And so it was done ; the whole work 
 now lies before me, and I have only to correct a few trifles. 
 So I shall put a seal on it, and then, it may add to the 
 specific weight of the volumes that are to follow, whatever 
 may come of it 
 
 Now that these demands are satisfied, new ones im- 
 mediately press forward from behind, a la queue, as at a 
 baker's shop. I know well what is wanted; the future 
 must show what can be done. I have planned far too many 
 buildings, and in the end, I have neither means nor strength 
 to finish them. I dare not think at all of Die Naiwrliche 
 Tochter ; how could I recall to memory the monstrous 
 catastrophe, which is there forced upon one ? . . . . 
 
 Tours always, 
 
 361. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Sunday, 11th September, 1831. 
 .... One more recommendation ! One of my 
 young disciples. Otto Nicolai,* — ^this time, no relation to the 
 Nicolai of the Universe, — has made himself a very cultivated 
 singer ; and besides that, he has set several of your poems to 
 most graceful music. I have given him an introduction to 
 our dear Ottilie, begging her to introduce the little man to 
 you. I feel tolerably satisfied too with his singing of my 
 trifles, and am glad to acknowledge this, as I know through 
 him, that the fault does not lie at my door, if certain people 
 
 * In 1833, Nicolai was made organist of the Prussian Embassy at 
 Home, where be studied Italian music, and composed a series of Operas 
 for Italian theatres. The later years of his life were passed at Vienna. 
 The best of his works is Die Lustigen Wdber von Windsor, or Falstaff, as 
 the Opera was called, when it was brought out in Lcufdon, in 1864. 
 
1831. J TO ZELTIE. 465 
 
 do not take to them. Now, if you could find a leisure 
 hour, in which to hear this youth, that would be a lifelong 
 joy to him 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 362.— Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Undated. 
 .... The Jackanapes of the day would like to 
 see the Nobility abolished, as though it were possible for a 
 man of worth to lose anything, by possessing worthy 
 ancestors ! Why, I suppose they will be taking away your 
 great-uncle next. Instead of that they ought to ask God, 
 daily and hourly, to let all that has stood the test of years 
 be called legitimate, and to make it their prayer, that from 
 time to time, a creature may be born, who shall stamp 
 entire centuries with his name. 
 
 One quiet evening, I remembered that Cicero had left be- 
 hind him a little work, called Be Senectute; for the first 
 time I felt inclined to apply it to myself, and I found it 
 most charming. 
 
 As these ancient authors, for the most part, write in 
 dialogue, it is only as if what one understands as a matter 
 of course, were thrown oS in conversation. He makes the 
 elder Cato speak, and he — if you look into it narrowly 
 — only gives a list of the excellent people in history, who 
 have grown old, and describes how well old age agreed 
 with them. 
 
 Then by way of illustration, he discusses the unreason- 
 ableness of wishing to recall anything, even the immediate 
 past. Much else that does not concern me, I leave unnoticed, 
 but I must tell you, how highly he esteems the honour, the 
 respect, the reverence that are paid to old age, after a career 
 worthily fulfilled. This comes with no uncertain sound 
 from the lips of a first-rate Roman, who both thinks and 
 speaks so finely about his ancestors, that we should be poor 
 creatures indeed, were we not affected by it 
 
 I have determined to bring Felix's most charming 
 letter to light through the Chaos, when a fitting opportunity 
 presents itself. 
 
466 Goethe's lettees [1831. 
 
 Tour prot^g^ shall be kindly received. Ottilie knows 
 how to manage, so that a stranger, who may not happen 
 to interest me at the moment, is bronght to me in a happy 
 hour. I must not omit to tell you, by the way, that she 
 and the children behave most charmingly; about that a 
 great deal might be said, though there is actually nothing 
 to say, because so delicate a matter cannot be expressed in 
 words. 
 
 I myself have been renewing my friendship with the 
 twenty-four year old MS.,* (some sheets of which you 
 have already seen.) I trust it will yet one day give you a 
 cheerful, and even at your advanced age, an instructive 
 hour. Herein I am confirmed by the words of the ancient 
 sage, the force of which I have just felt anew : " I am 
 ever learning, and only thus do I notice my increasing 
 years." f , . . . 
 
 G. 
 
 363. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 4th October, 1831. 
 
 .... All these circumstances considered, I cannot 
 sufficiently prize the good fortune, that so early forced me 
 to take an interest in Plastic Art. Having no talent for 
 the practice of Art, I was obliged to take all the more 
 pains to acquire theoretical knowledge, mastering just so 
 much of it as would serve me for home use, i.e. would 
 enable me to regulate my enthusiasm for any work, and 
 make it permanent. 
 
 Now I very often become acquainted with eminent 
 artists, whose names I never heard of, by means of the 
 engravings sent me ; and that makes the whole world 
 rich to me, for their talent is absolute and tangible. With 
 poetry it is quite different ; there I have to make too many 
 additions, and I never exactly know, if I am right in 
 accepting this and rejecting that. Music, which is your 
 
 * Goethe alludes to the beginning of the Fourth Part of his Bio- 
 graphy. 
 + A translation of Solon's line : — 
 
 ytjpdaKto d'aUl TroXXd SiSaaKofisvo^. 
 
1831.] TO ZBLTEE. 467 
 
 life, is almost completely vanishiag from my nnpraotised 
 senses. 
 
 I have got a strange specimen of the newest school of 
 German poetry, the Poems of Gnstav Pfizer, which were 
 sent me the other day ; I read hits here and there in the 
 little volume, but I have only half cut it. The poet seems to 
 me to have real talent, and to be a good man besides. But 
 while I was reading, it made me so wretched, that I quickly 
 threw the book aside ; when cholera is imminent, one ought 
 to be most strictly on one's guard against all depressing 
 and enervating influences. The little work is dedicated 
 to Uhland, and the region over which he rules, is not calcu- 
 lated to produce anything exciting, excellent, or likely to con- 
 quer the destiny of men, so I will not find fault with it, 
 though I shall not look into it again. It is strange, how 
 cleverly these little gentlemen manage to wrap themselves 
 up in a kind of beggar's mantle of moral and religious 
 poetry, in such a way that even if it is through at the 
 elbows, that defect must be regarded merely as a poetical 
 intention. I will enclose the book for you in my next 
 parcel, if only to get it out of the house. 
 
 So much for to-day. The continuation has already been 
 copied. 
 
 G. 
 
 364. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 5th October, 1831. 
 Ottilie is reading Plutarch's Lives to me of an even- 
 ing, adopting a new method, i.e. taking the Greeks first, for 
 thus at all events, we remain in one locality, with one nation, 
 and one way of thinking and acting. When we have done 
 with these, we shall pass on to the Romans, and go through 
 that series in like manner. We leave out the com- 
 parisons, expecting to learn from our own, unassisted im- 
 pressions, how far the whole of the Roman part is compar- 
 able to the whole of the Greek 
 
 I have been looking through two volumes, which I re- 
 ceived lately, Fragments de Geologie, &c., par A. von Hvm,- 
 holdt; I will tell you the strange thought, that they 
 suggested to my mind. The extraordinary talent of this 
 extraordinary man manifests itself in his oral delivery, and 
 
468 Goethe's lbttbes [1831. 
 
 if we look at it carefully, all oral delivery aims at per- 
 suasion, at making the listener believe he is convinced, 
 i^ew persons are capable of being convinced ; the majority 
 allow themselves to be persuaded, and hence the treatises 
 here before us are genuine orations, delivered with great 
 facility, so that at last one might fancy one had grasped 
 the impossible. That the Himalayas have raised them- 
 selves 25,000 feet out of the ground, and nevertheless 
 point heavenwards, as stiffly and proudly, as though it 
 were a matter of course, — this is beyond the limits of my 
 brain, in the dark regions where transubstantiation, &c. 
 dwell, and my cerebral system would have to be completely 
 reorganized, (which surely would be a pity,) if room had to 
 be found for these marvels. 
 
 But there are minds which have compartments for such 
 articles of faith, side by side with other quite reasonable 
 Loculamenta ; I do not understand it, but I hear of it, never- 
 theless, every day. But is it necessary then, to understand 
 everything ? Once more — with us the greatest rhetorician 
 is perhaps the conqueror of the world. For as all facts are 
 present to his vast memory, he contrives to use and apply 
 them with the greatest skill and boldness. But he who 
 belongs to the craft, sees pretty clearly, where weakness is 
 intertwined with strength, and strength does not object to 
 see itself somewhat dressed up, decked out, and toned down. 
 
 And so the effect is great, when such a paradox is de- 
 livered artistically and energetically, and for this reason 
 many of our ablest physiologists plume themselves on being 
 able to conceive the impossible. Consequently, I appear to 
 them the most stifE-necked of heresiarchs, in which charac- 
 ter may God graciously preserve and confirm me ! Selah I 
 
 G. 
 
 365. — Zelteb to Goethe. 
 
 Undated. 
 .... After the destruction of Troy — I mean the 
 conquest of Paris — the victorious Bliicher was received by 
 ns at the 8vngakademie with this Song,* and he compU- 
 
 * Goethe's Vorwdrts, from the Epimemdes. It will be remembered, 
 that Bliicher was nicknamed " General Vorwdrts" by his soldiers. 
 
1831.] TO ZBLTEE. 469 
 
 mented me as a good general, adding that he never yet 
 ventured an action with such a mass of pretty women, and 
 that he doubted whether it would succeed with him ; where- 
 upon I replied, that his good sword was at home every- 
 where, and that he might surely be contented with his 
 victory over our hearts. 
 
 9 th October. 
 
 In return for your poetical testimony to my genealogical 
 tree, I give you back an equivalent, which I had not 
 forgotten : 
 
 "But he whom the poet praises, he hath received a form." 
 
 Goethe's Euphrosyne. 
 
 That poem left upon me an impression of undying happi- 
 ness. During the first years of my frequent visits to 
 "Weimar, I used to be enticed away, as it were, by a Sibyl, 
 in the earliest calm of the morning, to the monument in 
 the Park, although I had never known the dear one. Once 
 it was like a vision, — the stone had vanished, — it was as if 
 I heard wafted towards me, " Avaunt ! thou belongest to 
 the earth." I tremblingly withdrew. On my return 
 through the garden, I found you, standing at the open 
 window of your room, and you sang out to me, " Good 
 morning, old gentleman ! " That was a good morning, and 
 it remained with me, and ever since that time, my afEeo- 
 tion for you has been growing. When I heard people 
 talking about you, with their so and so, and this and that 
 and the other, it was like salt to my flame. I could not 
 be angry with them, but I was forced to esteem myself 
 higher, because I thought that I alone understood you and 
 myself. So it is still, though we two are no longer chil- 
 dren; and yet again we are as children, for we are still 
 growing and exercising ourselves in the recognition of all 
 that is true and right, owning our imperfection stiU, because 
 
 we hope to be perfect 
 
 We are far advanced in the improvement of our piano- 
 fortes. Comparing our Fortepiano with the first, made by 
 Silbermann of Strasburg, it ought to be allowed, that he 
 laid the foundation of a Babylonian building, i.e. of the 
 confusion of tongues and the despair of musical sages, who 
 lead the lives of dogs, trying to cram all that into their 
 
470 soethe's letters [1831. 
 
 theory. French music may be compared to French politics ; 
 it is mongrel, efEeminate tittle-tattle ; their best writers can- 
 not shake themselves free of it. A short time ago, I heard 
 the Wassertrager again, an estimable work, against which I 
 have nothing to say. And yet the music in itself, in those 
 parts where it aims at personifying the real earnestness of 
 the poem, is about as good as a drum, covered with hnman 
 skin, — and this is the best work of one of their best men. 
 As to the Medea of this composer, I wiU not discuss it at 
 all. Blows i» the air, and fights in the looking-glass ; 
 too much of everything, in order to secure something. 
 Let him who finds the confusion of sensations unedifying, 
 keep away. Gretry is too soon forgotten ; he does not fly 
 into regions too high for him, but his feathers are his own. 
 He lets himself down gently, and still keeps his wings 
 moving, so that he can raise himself again at once. 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 366. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 26th October, 1831. 
 .... The brothers Schlegel, in spite of their many 
 fine gifts, were, are, and will be all their life long, unfor- 
 tunate ; they wanted to produce more than they were by 
 nature capable of, and to effect more than was in their 
 power ; consequently they have done much mischief, both 
 in Art and Literature. German artists and amateurs have 
 not yet recovered from their false doctrines of Plastic Art, 
 which proclaimed, taught, and disseminated egotism com- 
 bined with weakness ; nay — one must even leave them to 
 their error for a time, for they would be in despair, if 
 their eyes were opened. Meantime, we others have to 
 suffer, we, whose business it is, to help forward artists, 
 whose works there is no demand for after all, because they 
 suit the taste of no one. So those amiable Societies honestly 
 laugh at the public, instituting lotteries for articles which 
 no one would buy, and on which the winner can scarcely 
 be congratulated. 
 
 I would even love and encourage what is false, if only it 
 were in request, and well paid for. So, let it be ! 
 
 To return to those Bioscmri, — Frederick Schlegel, at all 
 
1831. j TO ZELTER. 471 
 
 events, choked himself, ruminating over moral and religious 
 absurdities, which, in the course of his uneasy career in 
 life, he would have liked to communicate to and dis- 
 seminate amongst others ; he therefore sought refuge in 
 Catholicism, and in his downfall, drew after him a consider- 
 able, but over-rated man, Adam Miiller. 
 
 Carefully considered, the Indian tendency too was only 
 a pis-aller. They were wise enough to see, that they could 
 not achieve anything brilliant in the field of German, Latin, 
 or Greek Literature, so they threw themselves upon the 
 far East, and here August Wilhelm distinguished himself 
 honourably. All this and +, the time to come will evidence 
 more clearly. Schiller did not love them, — nay, he hated 
 them ; I do not know whether it appears from our corre- 
 spondence, that I endeavoured to bring about social inter- 
 course at least, within our own circle. In the great revolu- 
 tion which they actually effected, they took little notice of 
 me, to the annoyance of Hardenberg (Novalis), who wanted 
 me to be extinguished too. I had enough to do with 
 myself ; why trouble myself about others ? 
 
 Schiller was justly exasperated with them ; as he stood 
 in their way, he could not get in their way. He once said 
 to me, when he was chafing at my habit of general forbear- 
 ance, and even of promoting what I did not myself like, — 
 " Kotzebue seems to me to be entitled to more respect, 
 because of his fruitfulness, than that unfruitful race, which 
 really and truly, does nothing but hobble along, calling 
 back and checking anyone who is making rapid progress." 
 
 We must not bear August Schlegel a grudge, for having 
 lived long enough to bring forward those disputes again. 
 Envy at seeing so many more influential talents rising up, 
 and vexation at having, as a youngster, cut so bad a figure, 
 make it impossible for the good man, in his heart of hearts, 
 
 to attain to a feeling of benevolence 
 
 G. 
 
 367. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, Thursday, 27th October, 1831. 
 Our zealous theologian, Hengstenberg, is said to have 
 delivered himself of a criticism on Die Wahlverwandtschaften, 
 
472 GOETHE'S LETTEES [1831. 
 
 that is as heavy as lead. I do not know him, and if he 
 does not understand you, you -will not know him either. 
 
 This reminds me of a story about the Hamburg Baoh, 
 when Agrioola asked him, " Have you read Marpurg's 
 criticism, of your new Fugue ? He has taken you to task 
 for it pretty sharply." "No," said Bach; "had he told 
 one his criticism beforehand, one might perhaps have 
 shaped one's ways accordingly; but if he likes his own 
 Fugues, I do not see how mine are calculated to please 
 him." .... 
 
 A new Opera by Scribe and Auber, Le Philtre, is so 
 hopelessly weak and empty, that the house, on the occasion 
 of the second performance, seemed as quiet as the grave. 
 
 On the other hand, the people of Konigsstadt have 
 arranged for themselves another new Opera by Rossini, La 
 Donna del Lago, and very nicely too ; it is pretty sure to 
 last. Douglas, a Scottish knight, has promised his beautiful 
 daughter to a Mr. Roderick ; James Y., King of Scotland, 
 is also bent on having her, but she, come life or death, is 
 bent on having a Mr. Malcolm Grame. That might happen 
 anywhere, and the test is the most marvellous composition 
 of everlastingly repeated, worn-out, Italian operatic tags ; * 
 yet the whole thing is as manageable and practicable, as a 
 good-tempered girl. So there you have the Opera. 
 
 The absence of a long, broad, pathetic Symphony, so far 
 from being regrettable, conciliated me at once. The Opera 
 starts with itself ; it has all the distinctive marks, which 
 enable us to recognize at once the well-known composer, 
 while at the same time, there are very evident signs, that his 
 vein is far from being exhausted. The singers have enough 
 to do, and yet they are spared, by means of the Orchestra, 
 which Rossini handles as easily as if he were holding a bell 
 firm in his hand, — weaving his instrumentation in as inge- 
 niously, as if it were a natural growth. There is plenty to 
 find fault with too, but he who sticks at that, is in danger 
 of missing the boldest and most delicate passages, as they 
 fly by, like game on the wing. The Chorus frequently 
 attacks with such brilliancy and force, that for a moment 
 
 * The gems of the text of this Opera are to be found in a very 
 humorous article in the Comhill Magazine for November, 1885, called 
 With Some lAhrettists. 
 
1831. J TO ZELTEE. 473 
 
 one feels older by a few thousand years. The scene is, as 
 I said before, in Scotland, and now and then I really 
 fancied myself transported from the King's Bridge in 
 Berlin, to a solemn Highland region, although the composer 
 has not even been at the pains to look up so much as a 
 single national Scotch song 
 
 I told yon before, that I had taken another turn at the 
 Schiller Correspondence. The two Letters, numbered 389 
 and 390, have set me thinking again. Schiller says, " Can 
 it really be, that Tragedy does not suit your nature, because 
 of its pathetic force ? " And again, "A certain reckoning 
 on the spectators is a hindrance to you, and perhaps for 
 that very reason, you are the less fitted to be a writer of 
 Tragedy, because you are altogether created for a poet in 
 the highest sense. Anyhow, I find in you all the poetic 
 specialities of the writer of Tragedy, in' their fullest 
 measure, and if, notwithstanding this, you are really unable 
 to write a perfectly genuine Tragedy, the reason must lie in 
 the non-poetical requisites." 
 
 I, for my part, do not understand this chiaroscuro, and 
 much I know about writing a Tragedy, or whether such 
 things let themselves be written ; when poetry bears about 
 the same relation to the writing, as music does to the notes. 
 It becomes somewhat clearer to my mind, when I remem- 
 ber, that Schiller was just then wrestling hard with his 
 Wallenstein, and trying, as it were, to hook poetry on to it. 
 Tour answer. No. 390, contains all that Aristotle says, and 
 something more besides. " Tor the rest," (you say,) " only 
 go on without anxiety. The inner unity, which Wallenstein 
 will have, must be felt, and you have great privileges in the 
 Theatre. An ideal whole imposes on men, even if they do 
 not know how to decipher it in its individual elements, nor 
 
 how to estimate the value of the individual parts " 
 
 Tours ever, 
 
 Z. 
 
 368. — Goethe to Zeltbe. 
 
 Weimar, 31st October, 1831. 
 .... I AM glad to hear that you sometimes go 
 back to the Schiller Correspondence; there you find two 
 
474 Goethe's lettees [1831. 
 
 men of serious aim, at a fairly high standpoint ; you are 
 incited to the same intellectual activity, you seek to place 
 yourself beside them, if possible above them ; and that is all 
 so much gain for the rising generation. 
 
 One day soon, you will receive the first numbers of the 
 Chaos ; it seems to me like the second year of a fairly 
 happy marriage. But do give me leave to insert in it your 
 delightful remarks about La Donna del Logo and the 
 Konigsstadt Theatre in general 
 
 I have of old denounced the canting lot, and I have 
 soundly anathematized the Berliners, as I know them, so 
 it is but fair, that I should be excommunicated by them in 
 their diocese. One of that tribe, wanting to have a iling 
 at me lately, talked about Pantheism ; he made a good shot 
 there ! I assured him with great simplicity, that I had 
 never yet met with anyone, who knew what the word meant. 
 
 I had an interview the other day, with a very good-look- 
 king young fellow, a Prussian too, who, after some very 
 proper talk, confided to me, that he also had taken up 
 poetry as a profession, adding that he was trying to work 
 against me and my followers. I assured him, that he was 
 doing very wisely ; for as no one could readily be of the 
 same way of thinking as another, so nothing could be more 
 natural, than for everyone, in verse or prose, to express 
 himself differently also. 
 
 As regards Tragedy, that is a ticklish point. I was not 
 bom to be a tragic poet, for my nature is conciliatory ; con- 
 sequently, a purely tragic incident cannot interest me, for 
 it must be essentially irreconcilable, and to me, in the 
 exceeding flatness of this world, the irreconcilable seems 
 an utter absurdity. I must not continue, for in the course 
 of discussion one might go astray, and this one would 
 
 rather avoid 
 
 G. 
 
 369. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 15th November, 1831, 
 As I know that one can ingratiate oneself with you, 
 by thinking and speaking kindly of your Berlin folk, I may 
 safely tell you, that yesterday we had a real f 6te, in honour 
 of one of the most admirable of your heroes of peace. 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEE. 475 
 
 It is really curious, that for the last 4,124 years, strictly 
 calculated — that is, since Noah's experiment in getting 
 drunk — though people have always gone on wishing for good 
 wine, and as much of it too as possible, still no one has ever 
 got to the bottom of the question, as to the greater or less 
 amount of skill required in dealing with the details of vine 
 culture, until at last, a plate-polisher in Berlin * made the 
 egg stand on end, and gave us a standai'd, by which we can 
 judge, how far people have hitherto approached the right 
 treatment of the subject. 
 
 I dare say I wrote to you about this from Dornburg; 
 since then, I have constantly devoted myself to it, as also 
 to botany in general. In Weimar, Belvedere, Jena, and 
 elsewhere, people caught up the published maxim at once, 
 so I planted a few vines, which are now three years old, 
 and have been pruned in that way. But in my garden, on 
 the wall of the outhoase, there is a very old and healthy 
 Hungarian vine, which bears very fine, large grapes, though 
 you cannot rely on a regular crop. An experienced pupil 
 and disciple of Kecht's has just been maiming it methodi- 
 cally, and he promises us eighty bunches of grapes for next 
 year ; you are invited to witness the vintage and to enjoy 
 it with us 
 
 Tou see that things with me go on after the old fashion. 
 Amid the hundreds of subjects that interest me, one always 
 constitutes itself the chief planet in the middle, and the 
 remainder of the Quodlibet of my life revolves around it 
 variously, moon fashion, until one or other of the satellites 
 succeeds likewise in moving to the centre. 
 
 I should like to hear what news you have of our excel- 
 lent Felix. I had an exceedingly interesting letter from 
 Switzerland, part of which I confided to the Chaos; I 
 wrote to him at Munich, but have not heard from him 
 since. 
 
 My blessings on all that is good and beautiful ! 
 
 J. W. V. G. 
 
 • J . S. Kecht. See Letter 249, Note. 
 
 1/ 
 
476 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 370. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Sunday, 26th November, 1831. 
 They are just putting the worthy Hegel under 
 ground ; he died suddenly of cholera, the day before yester- 
 day. On the Friday evening, he was actually at my house, 
 and he gave a lecture the day afterwards. I ought to be 
 one of the mourners, but I have got my Academy to attend 
 to, and a cold besides. My house is open every week regu- 
 larly to some four hundred people, and should anything 
 happen to me, my Institution would suffer, and I should be 
 reproached with having tempted Providence, — all the more, 
 as contrary to universal custom, I neither fumigate nor 
 disinfect, as it is called, clumsily enough. 
 
 Our University is so torn and divided, that I have not 
 yet been able to make a fresh start. Now Hegel's death 
 will give me an opportunity of rehearsing some music in 
 memory of him, and we shall have a performance 
 there. .... 
 
 The youngest daughter of Moses Mendelssohn was buried 
 yesterday. She, of all the family, was most like her father, 
 small and weakly, — a woman of delicate, fine intellect, and 
 lovable beyond everything. She inherited very little from 
 her father, and went away to Paris, where she made the 
 acquaintance of General Sebastiani, and became governess 
 to his only daughter. She educated this child up to the 
 time of her marriage, and received a pension for the rest 
 of her life, which she enjoyed in her native city of Berlin. 
 It was a remarkable thing, to find no difference in lan- 
 guage, manners, or habit of life, in the once Jewish maiden 
 of Berlin, who, without the aid of an imposing presence, 
 had become a lady in one of the first and most distinguished 
 of Parisian houses. Since she came back to Berlin, ten 
 years ago, though I have seen her frequently, (and always 
 with pleasure,) I have scarcely heard her utter a word of 
 French, EngUsh, or Italian; on the contrary, she spoke 
 the most transparent, flowing German, with a brightness, 
 which reminded me of your schbne Seele. Her vocation as 
 a governess in Paris had made her turn Roman Catholic, 
 but apart from her daily attendance at Mass, no appearance 
 
1831.] TO ZELTEK. 477 
 
 of positive religiosity would have been observable in her, 
 Felix was her special favoarite; she liked to have my 
 letters to him, and copied them for herself. She was at 
 my house only a short time ago, and now all that abides 
 
 with me is her sweet memory 
 
 Tours, 
 
 Z. 
 
 371, — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 23rd November, 1831. 
 . . FiEST of all, let me tell you that I have 
 retired into my cloister cell, where the sun, which is just 
 now rising, shines horizontally into my room, and does not 
 leave me until he sets, so that he is often uncomfortably im- 
 portunate, — so much so, that I really have to shut him out 
 for a time. This reminds me of a little old verse, which, 
 when translated, would run somewhat thus : 
 
 Nay, not with love, — with bare respect, 
 May we unite ourselves to thee : 
 O Sun .' couldst thou but take effect, 
 And never shine, — how nice 'twould be! 
 
 I have further to tell you, that a new edition of the 
 IpMgenia in Aulis of Euripides, edited by Hermann, Knight 
 and Professor of Leipzig, has once more turned my attention 
 to that incomparable Greek poet. His great and unique 
 talent of course excited my admiration as of old, but what 
 chiefly impressed me this time, was the element, as bound- 
 less as it is powerful, in which he moves. 
 
 Among the Greek localities, and their mass of primaeval, 
 mythological legends, he sails and swims, like a cannon- 
 ball on a sea of quicksilver, and cannot sink, even if he 
 wished it. Everything is ready to his hand — subject-matter, 
 circumstances, connecting links ; he has only to set to 
 work to bring forward his subjects and characters in the 
 simplest way, or to make the most complicated limitations 
 even more complicated, and then at last, symmetrically, 
 but entirely to our satisfaction, either to unravel or to cut 
 the knot. 
 
 I shall not lay him aside the whole of this winter. We 
 have translations enough, which well warrant our presump- 
 
478 Goethe's letters [1831. 
 
 tion in looking into the original ; when the sun shines into 
 my warm room, and I am helped by the stores of learning, 
 acquired in days long gone by, I shall anyhow fare better 
 than I should, at this moment, among the newly discovered 
 ruins of Messepe and Megalopolis. 
 
 As for the rest, you understand, that I am leading a 
 testamentary and codicillary life, in order that the body of 
 the property by which I am surrounded, may not be all too 
 quickly dissolved into the meanest elements, like the indi- 
 vidual himself. Yet even kings cannot accomplish any- 
 thing a finger's-breadth beyond their earthly existence ; so 
 why should we other poor devils make a fuss about it? ... . 
 
1832.] TO ZBLTEE. 479 
 
 1832. 
 
 372. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 14th January, 1832. 
 .... Jout's libretto for Spontim's Opera, (Les 
 AtJieniennes,) is truly admirable. I have read it through 
 once; there is great perception of draiaatic effects, the 
 treatment of such commonplace situations as are inevitable, 
 is fresh and successful, there are pleasant resting places in 
 the mid-current of the movement, (which is partly solemn, 
 partly passionate,) where homely airs can be introduced, 
 and the Finale is well-grouped, and full of life and move- 
 ment. Let anyone who must sit out the third Act have at 
 hand a cordial, both for heart and senses. Still, I do not 
 know of any passage that I would omit or alter. I 
 shall only be able to praise, and to give sound reasons for 
 
 my favourable opinion, from the right point of view 
 
 It will be all right for little Facius ; her maintenance 
 for one year more, is already as good as secured. The 
 presence of Professor Ranch in Berlin will, in any case, be 
 very advantageous to her. He who ceases to converse 
 with the masters of his Art, will not make any advance, 
 and will always be in danger of falling back. From every 
 gifted person, we ought to demand unwearied endeavour, — 
 a self-denial, which however, no one cares to form any idea 
 of. Everyone would like to possess Art in his own fashion, 
 but Art will be wooed and won only in her own way. How 
 often I see gifted people conducting themselves like a wasp 
 on a window pane ; they want to force their heads through 
 the impenetrable, fancying that they can do this, because it 
 is transparent. .... 
 
 G. 
 
480 Goethe's lettees [1832. 
 
 373, — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Berlin, 22nd January, 1832. 
 
 .... Tod need not trouble yourself about Jouy's 
 operatic text ; you have only to send it back to Spontini, 
 who, I am sure, will be certain to put it before me, with 
 his own casual observations. I too will let him know of 
 your satisfaction with the poem. I am on proper artistic 
 terms with him, and this he understands very well, as we 
 don't force our opinions upon one another. We have often 
 conducted important concerts, cheek by jowl, and at such 
 a time, I have found myself between two forces. On the 
 last occasion, in our largest Church, and in the presence of 
 the whole of the Royal Orchestra and Chorus, he launched 
 out very loudly in my praises ; while I, in my turn, could 
 not but admire his potential discretion, in letting things 
 with which he was absolutely unfamiliar, take their own 
 course. The most agreeable part of it was the universal 
 sensation ; I had not stirred, but everybody knew what 
 
 was meant 
 
 I enclose you another playbill. The Italian composer, 
 Bellini, was till lately, unknown to me ; Heaven only can 
 say, whether I know him now. A Duke has forcibly stolen 
 the lady-love of a Count, and made her his wife. The 
 Count comes back six years afterwards, as a pirate, kills the 
 Duke, and then comes to grief himself about it ; the wife 
 goes mad, and all that is left is a little rascal of five years 
 old. The music is the most casual jumble of ideas, which 
 purposely contradict every interpretation of what is going 
 on. One is pitched and tossed between one's eyes and ears, 
 one's feeling and one's reason, which are all biting and 
 scratching each other. With all this, the fellow has talent 
 and audacity, and lords it over the Orchestra and the 
 singers, in the most impertinent fashion. Such stufi is 
 now being carried ofE by a kind of virtuosity at the Konigs- 
 stadt Theatre. Now and then I was in such despair, 
 that I was on the point of running away, but before I could 
 quite get up from my chair, something always pushed me 
 back again. I felt at last, as if there was nothing left 
 of me 
 
1832.] TO ZELTEE. 481 
 
 Tuesday, 24th January. 
 My brave Ooncert-Meister, Rietz,* died the day before 
 yesterday. We are all very unhappy, — and there's an end 
 of it. Now I shall have to roll the new stone up-hill 
 again. There are some left to pick from still ; they are all 
 keen about it ; tact and ability will come in time. Rietz 
 had all those qualities, and the spirit of obedience besides. 
 .... Help, ye Muses ! And thou, Apollo ! forsake not 
 
 Thy 
 Z. 
 
 374. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 27tli January, 1832. 
 .... The excellent Doris seems to be quite cheer- 
 ful and at home here ; she has come just at the right time, 
 when we are all in full swing, and things are a little crazy, 
 even in my house. A few days ago, they performed a 
 Quodlibet of dramatic fragments, at a private house, under 
 the direction of Ottilie, who understands this sort of thing 
 verywell,andisthereforeingreatrequestasamanager 
 
 I dare not say, how much I dislike the reverse side of 
 Hegel's medal ; one does not know in the least what it is 
 intended for. I have proved in my verses, that I knew 
 how to venerate and how to adorn the Cross, as a man and 
 a poet ; but it jars upon me, to see a philosopher leading 
 his disciples by a round-about way over the primary and 
 negative grounds of Being and not Being to that contigna- 
 tion. It can be had cheaper, and expressed better. 
 
 I possess a medal of the seventeenth Century, stamped 
 with the likeness of a high dignitary of the Romish 
 Church ; on the reverse-side are figures of Theologia and 
 Philosophia, represented as two noble women, facing each 
 other, and the relation between the two is conceived with 
 such exquisite purity, and is so entirely satisfactory, and 
 
 * Edward Kietz, an excellent violin-player, was the founder and 
 conductor of an Orchestral Society at Berlin. His early death deeply 
 affected his intimate friend, Mendelssohn, who inscribed the Andante in 
 the String-Quintet, op. 18, with the words ! " In memory of E. Eitz." 
 The autograph is dated " Jan. 23, 1832," and entitled Nachmf. 
 
 r r 
 
482 GOETHE'S LETTERS [1832. 
 
 gracious in expression, that I am keeping the medal to 
 myself, so as to give it to someone worthy of it, if I can 
 find him. 
 
 One lives, inwardly and outwardly, in a perpetual state 
 of conflict, because of the young people, whose ways and 
 doings one cannot approve of, and yet cannot altogether 
 avoid. I often pity them, for having made their appearance 
 in times that are so out of joint, when a stiff, unbending 
 egotism hardens itself in ways that are half or altogether 
 false, and hinders pure Self from working out its own 
 development. The consequence is that when a free spirit 
 perceives and expresses what admits of being clearly seen 
 and expressed, very many good people must inevitably fall 
 into despair. Now they entangle themselves in the old, 
 conventional labyrinths, without noticing what stands in 
 their way. I shall guard against expressing myself more 
 definitely, but I know best what it is that keeps me young 
 in extreme old age, and moreover in the practical-productive 
 sense of the word, which after all is the main thing. 
 
 And thus ever, 
 
 J. W. V. Goethe. 
 
 375. — ^Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 1st February, 1832. 
 .... Felix is now in Paris, and is making a stir, 
 both as composer and performer. I enclose a short extract 
 from his letter, by which you will see for yourself what 
 else he is doing in a general way. 
 
 " Paris, 21st January, 1832. 
 " Yesterday, Rodriques was with me, talking of St. 
 Simonism ; he thought me stupid or clever enough, (I 
 don't know which,) for him to make disclosures, which so 
 enraged me, that I resolved not to have anything more 
 to do with him, or any other of his accomplices. Early 
 this morning, Hiller rushed into my room, to tell me how 
 he had just been present at the arrest of the St. Simonians ; 
 he wanted to hear their sermon, — no Popes — soldiers sud- 
 denly appear upon the scene, and people are asked to be 
 
1832.] TO ZELTEE. 483 
 
 ofE as fast as they can, as Herr Enfantin and the others are 
 arrested ia the Bmb Monsigny. National Guards and other 
 soldiers are posted in the Bue Monsigny, every door is 
 bolted, and now the trial has begun. It will go hard with 
 them, for the new jury, consisting no longer of Odilon- 
 Barrot candidates, is ministerial, and has already delivered 
 some very stringent verdicts," &c. 
 
 376. — GoiTHE TO Zbltee. 
 
 Weimar, 4th February, 1832. 
 .... A LITTLE while ago, you told me, that some 
 cultivated Berliners rejoiced in the thought, that probably, 
 with the exception of your copy of my Farhenlehre, there 
 was no other in Berlin. If, by chance, there is one in the 
 Royal Library, it will be locked up, and tabooed, as a for- 
 bidden work. Two octavo volumes, and one number in 
 quarto, have been in print for three-and-twenty years, and 
 it is one of the most important experiences of my old age, 
 that since those days, the Guilds and Societies have always 
 opposed it, and regarded it with grim fear. Right they are ! 
 and I praise them for it. Why should they not curse the 
 broom, which threatens, sooner or later, to destroy their 
 cobwebs ? I kept quiet at the time, but now I will not 
 spare a few words. 
 
 The circle you tell me of, is made up entirely of honour- 
 able, well-meaning people ; but they certainly belong to a 
 Guild, — a persuasion, — a party, — whose best part it un- 
 doubtedly is, to shelve, if it cannot annihilate, all the hostile 
 elements that encroach upon it. 
 
 What is a Minister, but the head of the party, which he 
 has to protect, and upon which he depends ? What is the 
 Academician, but an initiated and adopted member of a 
 great Society ? If he were not connected with it, he would 
 be nothing ; the Society, on the other hand, must carry out 
 the traditions it has accepted, and must admit and assimilate 
 only a certain kind of novelty, in the way of select observa- 
 tions and discoveries ; everything else must be set aside as 
 heresy. 
 
 Seebeck, an earnest man, in the highest and best sense 
 
484 Goethe's lettbes [1832. 
 
 of the word, knew very well, in what relation he stood to 
 me, and to my method of thiiking about Natural Science, 
 but, once received into the reigning Church, he would 
 have been considered a fool, had he shown the least trace 
 of Arianism. When the multitude is, once for all, satisfied 
 with words and phrases about certain difficult and doubtful 
 phenomena, we must not bewilder it. Judging by your 
 letter, the interlocutors themselves confess that he has been 
 moderate, — i.e. that he did not explain himself upon the 
 chief points, that he was able to listen silently to what 
 displeased him, and, while fulfilling his academic duties, to 
 conceal his sentiments behind palpable specialities, — I 
 mean, by remarkably successful experiments, in which he 
 showed great cleverness. His son, only a short time ago, 
 assured me of his excellent father's sincere appreciation of 
 
 me 
 
 I must tell you of the strangest thing that has just 
 happened 
 
 Continuation. 
 
 Weimar, 20th February, 1832. 
 
 Whilst dictating the above, I get a dissertation from 
 Prague, where a year ago, under the auspices of the Arch- 
 bishop, my Farhenlehre was taken up regularly, in the series 
 of other physical subjects, and now looks very well on the 
 list. I am much amused by the paradox, that Catholic 
 countries should consider allowable, what in Calvinistic 
 countries is not only forbidden, but even discredited. I am 
 well aware, that one has only to live long, and try to get 
 breadth into one's work, and everything will lead to a 
 result of some kind in the end 
 
 Doris will have many pleasant things to tell you about 
 Weimar; in Prau von Pogwisch, Prl. Ulrike, and Emma 
 Proriep, she found old and intimate allies, and her wise 
 and quiet, yet actively sympathetic ways won for her 
 many new and attached friends. She had an opportunity 
 too of getting to know, and up to a certain point, take 
 delight in my collections, so far as they can be seen and 
 enjoyed by the world. In our modest household, she could 
 be as comfortable as she liked in a quiet way, and no 
 
1832.] TO ZELTEE. 485 
 
 doubt she will go back to her daily, domestic life, which is 
 full of stir and activity, feeling refreshed and all the better 
 
 for the change 
 
 And thus ever, 
 G. 
 
 377. — Zeltbe to Goethe. 
 
 7th February. 
 .... I AM just now reading Italian, and looking 
 up a passage in Benvenuto Cellini. .... I still remember 
 the first impression it made on me, thirty years ago, when 
 you brought the book to my study. I have now begun it 
 all over again, and am reading it through, from the first to 
 the last chapter. The navoete with which that young fellow 
 describes his very just hatred of that accursed music, 
 attracted me most powerfully, as I myself had endured 
 the exact opposite. How often, with tears and earnest 
 prayers, have I called on God to change that confounded 
 taste of mine for the music that I loved, into a talent more 
 befitting my condition, and more gratifying to my father. 
 All that came before me, as vividly, as though the agony 
 of my soul at that time were brought before my eyes in a 
 vision. I dare say I have written to you about this ten 
 times already, but the efEect is always the same. 
 
 Young Friedlander, who has been appointed custodian of 
 the Royal Library here, tells me that he has just discovered 
 an hitherto unknown MS. of the life of Benvenuto Cellini, 
 
 and besides that, a work upon the Goldsmith's Art 
 
 I told you, I was reading Italian ; that reminds me, that 
 the Italian Spontini has just been dissolving your little 
 Mignon, like a pearl, in the river of German instrumenta- 
 tion. The little piece is pretty and effective, and Mignon 
 plays with it, like a child among children ; if it went on in 
 this strain to the end, it would be a complete thing. But 
 he lays the chief stress on his long-drawn, everlasting 
 repetitions of Kennst Du es wohl ? and I should like to see 
 the man who would say, Es muss wohl Italien gemeynt 
 seyn, ("I suppose that means Italy.") It was given at 
 yesterday's Concert, with fuU Orchestra, (drums excepted,) 
 
486 Goethe's letters [1832. 
 
 and with great applause. As the people were going out, 
 someone exclaimed quite audibly, Dahm ! saheer' Hr dch 
 und lass uns ungeschoren* . 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 378. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 16th February, 1832. 
 .... I THINK I have already written to you about 
 Auber's Opera, Ber Gott und die Bajadere.f Yesterday's 
 performance was so perfect in every respect, that I really 
 quite revelled in the music. There is something Indian 
 about it, quite different to anything we have had before. 
 Brilliancy, novelty, easy flow, — and our star, Mdlle. Elsler, 
 (the Bajadere,) not only dances, but acts more perfectly 
 than anyone I have seen, since Vigano. The whole house 
 was delighted. Her figure presents a mark for thousands 
 of eyes. Every part of her face is a keyboard of colour, 
 
 played upon with marvellous grace The vocal parts 
 
 too were admirably cast. Mantius,J (the God,) is to be 
 sure a beginner, and rather undersized, but his tenor voice 
 is even in compass, and of the greatest beauty. He has 
 
 made immense progress in a very short time 
 
 Tours, 
 Z. 
 
 379. — Zeltee to Goethe. 
 
 Sunday, 19th February, 1832. 
 .... Now for another Opera, Fra Diavolo .'.... 
 This Diavolo is a handsome, young, long, thin, pale banditti- 
 
 * We give a literal translation of what is obTiousIy meant for the 
 parody of a line in Mignon's Song, " Be off with you thither, (soheer" Er 
 sicli,) and leave us unfleeced ! " Xmigeschoren .') in other words, " Be off 
 with you, Spontini, to Italy, — ^yoa and your high prices ! " — There is a 
 similar play on the word wohl in the sentence above. 
 
 + See Letter 344. 
 
 t Edward Mantius, originally a legal student at Leipzig, was for some 
 time a favourite Handelian singer at Berlin. He was greatly appreciated 
 by Mendelssohn, and sang the leading tenor parts, during the career of 
 Jenny Lind at Berlin. He was twenty-seven years on the stage, and 
 appeared in no less than a hundred and fifty-two characters. He died 
 at llmenau in 1874. 
 
1832.] TO ZBLTIK. 487 
 
 man, and sings tenor like all tenerinos, piping on in falsetto, 
 
 for that is the fashion nowadays Now about the 
 
 action ! 
 
 The dragoons, they booze and sing ; 
 The banditti, they steal and sing. 
 
 My lord is sulky and sings, how he loathes that confounded singing. 
 The lovers worry each other and sing, and make it up, and sing again. 
 
 It takes a man like Anber, (and the critics are not agreed 
 about his talent,) so to be-music three such Acts, as to pre- 
 vent anyone dying of ennui, and for this, an Orchestra is 
 wanted as good as the Parisian, and not worse than ours, 
 for the difficult passages given to singers and Orchestra 
 
 are the best thing about it, if all goes well 
 
 I have received from Paris a letter from Felix, dated 
 the 15th of this month. As he has often been there, new 
 acquaintances have trodden on the heels of the old, and 
 seemingly, the political, no less than the artistic life there, 
 stimulates his love for the Fatherland. As regards the 
 artistic life, his confession squares pretty tolerably with 
 my prophecies to him, though I never was at Paris, — and 
 to be sure, business-men or merchants, amongst whom he 
 has lived from childhood, sniff out the places where there 
 
 is most doing. Of late years, the activity of trade has 
 
 been most dangerous for well-to-do people, though a sharp 
 look-out in the market has often enough enriched the raga- 
 muffin. — But I do not understand that 
 
 Yours, 
 Z. 
 
 380. — Goethe to Zeltee. 
 
 Weimar, 23rd February, 1832. 
 .... I WILL insert here, what I found occasion to 
 jot down, a few days ago. 
 
 " The consciousness of having effected the artistic de- 
 velopment of an important natural taste abides with us, 
 as one of our finest feelings ; but at the present time, it is 
 a greater merit than formerly, when every beginner still 
 believed in schooling, in regime, and in masters, and 
 modestly subjected himself to the grammar of his par- 
 
488 Goethe's letters [1832. 
 
 ticular department, about which most of the young people 
 of to-day decline to know anything. 
 
 " German plastic artists have, for the last thirty years, 
 been under the delusion, that natural talent can develop 
 itself, and a host of enthusiastic amateurs, who also have 
 no fundamental principles, confirm them in this belief. A 
 hundred times, I hear an artist boast, that he owes every- 
 thing to himself alone ! I generally listen to this patiently, 
 but sometimes I am goaded into replying, ' It looks like it 
 too.' 
 
 " For what then is man, in and through himself ? • When 
 he opens his eyes and ears, he cannot avoid objectivity, 
 example, tradition ; he educates himself by these, accord- 
 ing to his individual taste and convenience, as far as he can, 
 for a time. But just when he reaches the highest point, he 
 finds this fragmentary existence does not suffice ; he feels 
 that discomfort, which is the special trouble of practical 
 men. Happy he, who is quick to grasp what Art means ! " 
 
 Much as I have efEected for the whole community, and 
 much as has been set in motion by me, still I can name 
 but one man, who has cultivated himself from the very 
 beginning, in entire accordance with my ideas ; this was 
 the actor, Wolfi, who is still held in honourable remem- 
 brance in Berlin. In the hope of receiving a friendly 
 answer, more anon. 
 
 J. W. V. GoiTHE. 
 
 381. — Goethe to Zeltib. 
 
 Weimar, 11th March, 1832. 
 
 That's right ! After having built and established 
 your citadel, at the expense of your whole life, you should 
 not be without a trustworthy body-guard, and warlike allies ; 
 so you are laying about you manfully, to preserve what you 
 have won, to promote your chief aim, and thus to lessen the 
 burdens, which must necessarily accompany a position like 
 yours. 
 
 Here there come across my mind all sorts of examples 
 from Ancient History ; these, however, I cast aside, for, as 
 
1832.] TO ZELTEE. 489 
 
 a rule, one does not find any comfort in the thought, that 
 the greatest of one's ancestors must have fared much worse 
 than oneself. 
 
 Fortunately, your individual gift has to do with sound, 
 that is, with the moment. Now, as a series of consecutive 
 moments is always a kind of Eternity itself, you have been 
 allowed to remain firm and constant in the midst of what 
 is transitory, and thus perfectly to satisfy my mind, as well 
 as Hegel's, so far as I understand it. 
 
 Look at me, on the other hand ! me, living chiefly in the 
 past, less in the future, and for the moment, in the dis- 
 tance, — and remember, that in my own way, I am quite 
 content. 
 
 I have received from Naples a very pleasant reminder 
 from Zahn,* that good, energetic young fellow, whom I 
 dare say you still remember. I am well pleased to find 
 that they have given my name to the house, which has 
 been recently discovered, though they have not yet com- 
 pletely unearthed it. This is an echo from afar, meant to 
 commemorate my son's death. The house is admitted to 
 be one of the most beautiful hitherto discovered, and re- 
 markable for a mosaic, such as we have not yet met with in 
 antiquity. This was announced in the newspapers long 
 ago, so perhaps you have already heard something about it. 
 
 However, they are sending me a detailed drawing of the 
 great, enclosed space, columns and all, as well as a small 
 copy of the famous painting. We must take care that we 
 do not behave like Wieland, who, owing to his great sus- 
 ceptibility, allowed what he read last to blot out, as it 
 were, all that went before, for we might quite be tempted 
 to say, that nothing has as yet come down to us from 
 antiquity, equal to this in picturesqueness of composition 
 and execution. 
 
 What would you say, were they to lay before you an 
 intelligible page in musical type, belonging to that time, — 
 a time suggestive of earlier Grecian models,^in which you 
 were forced to recognize a master of the Fugue, with its 
 inner and outer criteria ? 
 
 The few, but really earnest connoisseurs, whom you know 
 
 * See Letters 229 and 340. 
 
490 goethe's letters [1832. 
 
 of, will find ample material for conversation and edification 
 in this subject, for some days to come. Besides this, some 
 perfectly different, yet equally interesting things have 
 found their way to me, — namely, several specimens of 
 an organic world, that disappeared before all historic times. 
 Remains of fossil animals and plants are accumulating 
 around me, but one must of necessity refrain from thinking 
 of anything but the origin and position of the place of dis- 
 covery, because to absorb oneself further in the contempla- 
 tion of the ages, could only lead to madness. I should 
 really like one day, as a joke, when you are rehearsing 
 bright and lively Choruses, with your jovial youngsters, to 
 place before you a primaeval elephant's grinder, dug out of 
 our gravel pits ; you would feel the vivid and charming 
 contrast. 
 
 But now, I beg of you to continue, as you did in your 
 last, to express aphoristically the old eternal maxims of 
 Nature, by which man makes himself comprehensible to 
 man through language, in order that the decrees of Pate 
 may one day be fulfilled in the Future. It is strange, that 
 English, French, and now Germans too, like to express 
 themselves incomprehensibly, just as others like to listen 
 to what is incomprehensible. I only wish, that an Italian 
 would occasionally step in, and let us hear his emphatic 
 language. 
 
 So be it, then ! 
 
 J. W. V. Goethe.* 
 
 382. — Zeltee to Here Gbheimeath tjnd Kanzlee ton 
 
 MULLEE, AT WeIMAE. 
 
 Berlin, 31st March, 1832. 
 
 I COULD not thank you, until to-day, honoured Sir, 
 for your most friendly sympathy, — which is all the occasion 
 allows of. 
 
 What we expected, what we dreaded, inevitably came. 
 
 * This is Goethe's last letter. Zelter wrote to Goethe for the last 
 time, on the day of the poet's death, the 22nd of March; the letter 
 reached Weimar on the day of the funeral. 
 
1832.] TO ZELTEE. 491 
 
 The hour struck. The minute-hand stands still, like the 
 sun at Gibson ; for see ! the man lies overthrown, who 
 bestrode the Pillars of Hercules, whilst under him, the 
 powers of the earth contended for the dust beneath their 
 feet. 
 
 What can I say of myself — to you, to all there, and 
 everywhere ? As he is gone before me, so daily do I draw 
 nearer to him, and I shall find him again, and perpetuate 
 that sweet affection, which, for so many successive years, 
 cheered and enlivened the space of sis-and-thirty miles 
 that lay between us. 
 
 Now I have a request to make. Continue to honour me 
 with your kindly letters. Ton will be able to judge, how 
 far I may be trusted, as the undisturbed relations between 
 two close friends, who were really one, — though judged by 
 their capacities, far apart, — are well known to you. I am 
 like a widow, who has lost her husband, her lord and 
 guardian ! And yet, I dare not grieve ; I am forced to 
 stand amazed, at the riches he brought me. It is my duty 
 to preserve that treasure, and to turn the interest into 
 capital. 
 
 Pardon me, noble friend ! I surely ought not to com- 
 plain, and yet the old eyes are disobedient, and must have 
 their way. But once I saw him weep ; that must justify 
 me. 
 
 Zeltei!.. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 A BEAM, 258. 
 Abschatz, 8. 
 
 Acoustics, 7. 
 
 Agrikola, 356, 472. 
 
 Ahnfrau, Die, 164. 
 
 Albertinelli, 201. 
 
 Albreeht, Prince, 407. 
 
 Alcestis, 99. 
 
 Aldobrandini, 17. 
 
 Alexander's Feast, 145. 
 
 Alfieri, 89, 95. 
 
 Allgemeine Literarische Zei- 
 tung, 18, 83. 
 
 Allgemeine Literaturzeitung , 
 Die, 18, 395. 
 
 Aloysius, 325. 
 
 Amalie, Princess, sister of 
 Frederick the Great, 441. 
 
 Amelang, Fraulein, 26. 
 
 America, 277, 295. 
 
 Andr^, 136. 
 
 Angelico, Fra, 281. 
 
 Anton, Archduke, 186. 
 
 Apollo, 8. 
 
 Apostolo Zeno, 56. 
 
 Ariosto, 130, 426. 
 
 Aristarchus, 57. 
 
 Aristophanes, 28. 
 
 Aristotle, 282, 283, 284, 313, 
 
 334, 386, 391, 473. 
 Amim, 63. 
 
 Amim, Bettina von, 79. 
 Arnold, 437. 
 iEschylns, 13, 261. 
 ^sop's Fallen, 205. 
 Artaserse, 99. 
 Ascanio in Alba, 98. 
 Auber, 348, 380, 443, 472, 486, 
 
 487. 
 Augereau, Marshal, 45. 
 
 Augusta, Princess, 362, 364. 
 Aus meinem Leben, 213. 214, 
 
 236. 
 Austria, Emperor of, 177, 181, 
 
 190. 
 Austria, Empress of, 77. 
 Austria, Joseph II., Emperor 
 
 of, 186. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bach, E., 4, 110, 115, 132, 167, 
 265, .356, 472. 
 
 Bach, F., 292, 354, 355, 356, 409. 
 
 Bach, S., 99, 110, 115, 123, 127, 
 132, 133, 167, 168, 194, 201, 
 232, 236, 263, 265, 284, 285, 
 287, 288, 289, 290, 291, 292, 
 293, 298, 300, 339, 346, 347, 
 351, 353, 354, 355, 356, 357, 
 393, 399, 400, 452, 462. 
 
 Bacon, Lord, 338. 
 
 Baini, 424. 
 
 Banks, 135. 
 
 Bagge, Baron, 202. 
 
 Barabbas, 14. 
 
 Barrentrap, 224. 
 
 Bassi, 161. 
 
 Bavaria, 160. 
 
 Bavaria, King of, 301, 395. 
 
 Beaumarchais, 438. 
 
 Becarria, 390. 
 
 Beethoven, 4, 65, 73, 90, 91, 103, 
 126, 133, 134, 135, 167, 173, 
 180, 181, 185, 188, 189, 194, 
 308, 374, 433, 442, 443, 446, 
 451. 
 
 Begas, 227, 300, 452. 
 
 BeUini, 182, 480. 
 
 Benda, 318, 356, 452. 
 
 Bendavid, 354, 355. 
 
 B^ranger, 281, 409. 
 
494 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bemhard, J. C, 373. 
 
 BerUoz, 358, 362. 
 
 Bernini, 159. 
 
 Bertuch, 356. 
 
 Bertuch, Legationsrath, 18, 236. 
 
 Bethmann, 11. 
 
 Beuth, 305. 
 
 Beyme, 396, 397. 
 
 Bignon, 388, 392. 
 
 Blackwood's Magazine, 460. 
 
 Bliicher, 112, 468. 
 
 Bohemia, 84, 109, 161, 214, 
 
 220. 
 Bohn, 264. 
 Bonoldi, 161. 
 Bora, Catherine von, 43. 
 Bossi, 158. 
 Bbttiger, 18, 388. 
 Boucher, A., 202, 206. 
 Boucher, Madame, 203, 206. 
 Bourrienne, 367, 388. 
 Bouterwek, 462. 
 Bowring, E. A., 78, 107, 328. 
 Bracehridge, 260, 262. 
 Braschi, Prince, 160. 
 Brand, 9. 
 Braut von Messina, Die, 11, 12, 
 
 15. 
 Brentano, 63. 
 Brizzi, 73, 84. 
 Bruch, Max, 37. 
 Bruhl, Count, 118, 123, 128, 217, 
 
 238, 247, 403. 
 Brun, Frau Friderike, 1. 
 Buch, 294. 
 
 Buchheim, Prof., 1, 121, 152. 
 Buehholz, 18. 
 Burger, 409, 410. 
 Burney, Dr., 16. 
 Byron, 365,440. 
 
 C. 
 Calderon, 85, 358, 393. 
 Campagne in Frankreich, Die, 
 
 214. 
 Campe, 166. 
 Campi, 174. 
 Canova, 160, 182. 
 Caraoci, A., 433, 438. 
 Carlyle, Dr., 460. 
 Carlyle, Mrs., 460. 
 
 Carlyle, T., 293, 303, 417, 460, 
 
 462. 
 Carlyle's Frederick the Great, 
 
 437. 
 Carlyle's Life of Schiller, 415, 
 
 460. 
 Caspar, Dr., 225. 
 Castiglione, Duke of, 102. 
 Castle of St. Angelo, 211. 
 Catalani, 138, 159, 206, 286, 287. 
 Catel, 117. 
 Gate, 465. 
 Cebes, 269, 270. 
 Celli, 452. 
 Cellini, Benvenuto, 17, 19, 97, 
 
 116, 485. 
 Cervantes, 18. 
 Chaos, Das, 313, 392, 407, 465, 
 
 474, 475. 
 Charlemagne, 333. 
 Charles VI., 325. 
 Charles Martel, 333. 
 Charlotte von Stein, 149. 
 Chelard, 327. 
 Cheruhini, 65, 179, 245. 
 Chiaramonti, 160. 
 
 Chinesische Jahreszeiten, 303. 
 Chladni, Dr., 7, 136. 
 Christ, 14, 143, 271, 343, 363, 
 412, 413. 
 
 Christus am Oelberge, 91, 444. 
 
 Chrysostom, St., 120. 
 
 Churchill, 460. 
 
 Cicero, 465. 
 
 Cimarosa, 394. 
 
 Cinna, 388. 
 
 Clavigo, 129, 462. 
 
 Clemenza di Tito, La, 174. 
 
 Concerts Spirituels, 16. 
 
 ConciaUni, 436. 
 
 ComfessionsofaFemalePoisoner, 
 The, 18. 
 
 Constant Prince, The, 75. 
 
 Constantine IX., 57. 
 
 Constantine the Great, 448. 
 
 Constantinus, 57. 
 
 Conversations of Goethe with 
 Eckermann, 200, 319, 323, 367, 
 432. 
 
 Corelii, 452. 
 
 CorneiUe, 388. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 495 
 
 Cwnhill Magazine, 472. 
 
 Correspondence between Schiller 
 and Goethe, 7, 9, 10, 16, 17, 
 18, 19, 32, 47, 100, 241, 349, 
 359, 361, 364, 383, 384, 395, 
 410, 473. 
 
 Cotta, 18, 45, 47, 228. 
 
 Coudray, 241. 
 
 Cousin, 240, 369. 
 
 Couperin, 285, 287, 288, 290, 
 291. 
 
 Cramer, 337. 
 
 Cramer, L. W., 137. 
 
 Creation, The, 398, 399. 
 
 Cumberland, Duchess of, 195, 
 198. 
 
 Cumberland, Duke of, 337. 
 
 Cuzzoni, 99. 
 
 Ctjclops, The, 233, 234. 
 
 D. 
 
 Dalberg, 286. 
 
 Damenkalender, Der, 63. 
 
 Danaiden, Die, 5. 
 
 Dante, 267, 269, 270, 271, 272. 
 
 David, 159, 160. 
 
 Deinhardstein, 404. 
 
 Delilah, 88. 
 
 Denner, 98. 
 
 Descartes, 338. 
 
 De Senectute, 465. 
 
 Des Voeux, C, 283. 
 
 Deutsche Lyrik, 1. 
 
 Devonshire, Duke of, 315. 
 
 Devrient, 426. 
 
 Devrient, E., 336, 447. 
 
 Dichtung und Wahrheit, 85. 
 
 Die Lustigen Weiber von Wind- 
 sor, 464. 
 
 Divan Westostlicher, 117, 119, 
 121, 122, 124, 164, 181, 183, 
 193. 
 
 Dbbb'elin, 416. 
 
 Dog of Aubry, The, 40. 
 
 Dolce, Carlo, 290. 
 
 Don Ciccio, 119. 
 
 Don Giovanni, 91, 122, 155, 222, 
 265. 
 
 Doni, 324. 
 
 Dschinnistan, 5. 
 
 Duncker, 132. 
 
 Diintzer, 196. 
 
 DUntzer's Life of Goethe, 36, 40, 
 
 64, 113, 460. 
 Durante, 434, 439. 
 Durer, 182, 315, 405. 
 Dussek, 167. 
 Dyk, 135. 
 
 E. 
 
 Early Letters, Goethe's, 36. 
 Eberwein, K., 54, 55, 58, 62, 64, 
 
 67, 69, 72, 81, 192, 205, 227, 
 
 324. 
 Eckermann, 5, 17, 21, 280, 302, 
 
 353, 394, 402, 419, 420, 423, 
 
 432, 440. 
 Mdinbwgh Review, 357. 
 Egeria, 341. 
 Egmont, 103. 
 Egypt, 367. 
 Ehlers, 417. 
 Eichstadt, 17. 
 Einsiedel, 85. 
 Elpenor, 46. 
 Elsler, F., 418, 486. 
 Emilia Galotti, 391, 392, 411. 
 Enfantin, 483. 
 
 Engel, J. J., 93, 259, 318, 416. 
 England, 39, 331, 357, 459. 
 Entoptische Farben, 157. 
 Epimenides Erwachen, Des, 115, 
 
 118, 119, 468. 
 Erwin und Elmire, 28. 
 Essex, 135. 
 
 Este, Cardinal d', 426. 
 Esterhazy, Prince, 181. 
 Eugenie, 17. 
 Eumenides, The, 13. 
 Euripides, 13, 233, 234, 261, 318, 
 
 477. 
 Euryanthe, 238, 255. 
 Eyck, 182. 
 
 F. 
 
 Fabre, MdUe., 161. 
 Facius, A., 448, 479. 
 Fantuzzi, Count, 160. 
 Farbenlehre, Die, 44, 45, 67, 70, 
 
 75, 80, 81, 113, 157, 278, 354, 
 
 360, 410, 483, 484. 
 FarinelU, 99. 
 Fasch, 4, 115, 156, 182, 356, 462. 
 
496 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Faust, 47, 55, 73, 74, 126, 127, 
 128, 129, 159, 169, 193, 195, 
 196, 197, 206, 262, 288, 307, 
 311, 313, 314, 317, 321, 343, 
 344, 346, 350, 354, 358, 359, 
 362, 363, 373, 374, 375, 380, 
 417, 426, 447, 460, 464. 
 
 FausCs HoUenzwang, 375. 
 
 Faustina, 99. 
 ^ichte, 15, 16, 17, 18, 396. 
 
 Fidelio, 73, 90, 442. 
 
 Fiesco, 416. 
 
 Figaro, 304, 394, 408. 
 
 Fleck, 416. 
 
 Fleck, Madame, 34. 
 
 Foreign Heview, The, 460. 
 
 Forkel's Life of Bach, 290, 356. 
 
 Forster, 463. 
 
 France, 25, 316, 367. 
 
 Franklin, 75. 
 
 Fraser's Magazine, 460. 
 
 Fraser, W., 460;. 
 
 Frederick I., Emperor, 231. 
 
 Frederick the Great, 4, 16, 28, 
 156, 219, 220, 229, 230, 262, 
 351, 371, 372, 374, 379, 437, 
 438, 441. 
 
 Freischiitz, Der, 203. 
 
 Friedlander, 76, 79, 80, 81, 97, 
 100, 375, 485. 
 
 Friedrich, Prince of Gotha, 87. 
 
 Fries, 284, 294. 
 
 Froberger, 232. 
 
 Frommann, 284. 
 
 Froriep, 484. 
 
 Fiir Freunde der Tonkunst, 7, 
 227. 
 
 Fux, 325. 
 
 G. 
 
 Gabrieli, 339. 
 
 Galileo, 338. 
 
 Gall, 40, 406., 
 
 Gartenhausri 8. 
 
 Gastmahl der Weisen, Das, 119. 
 
 Gaul, 333. 
 
 Gazza Ladra, La, 172. 
 
 Gellert, 392. 
 
 Gerard, 317. 
 
 Gerbert, 57. 
 
 Gerhard, 8. 
 
 Germany, 48, 59, 95, 96, 98, 99, 
 115, 118, 125, 126, 152, 191, 
 209, 214, 283, 287, 298, 320, 
 327, 331, 365, 369, 394, 405, 
 
 . 406, 440, 460. 
 
 George IV., 316. 
 
 George, St., 211. 
 
 Giotto, 269. 
 
 Gleim, 299, 300. 
 
 Glenk, 371. 
 
 Globe, Le, 369, 391. \ 
 
 Gluck, 90, 91,'*98, 171>173, 2SJ, 
 351, 400. •- -i 
 
 Goethe, 1, 5, 6, 7, 10, 16, 17, 18, « 
 19, 21, 24, 28, 29, 32, 36, 37, 
 40, 42, 45, 46, 47, 57, 59, 64,. 
 76, 83, 85, 86, 91, 92, 100, 109, 
 110, 113, 115, 118, 121, 122, 
 130, 135, 137, 149, 150, 156, 
 163, 167, 182, 195, 200, 205, 
 208, 213, 214, 217, 221, 226, 
 228, 233, 234, 236, 239, 241, 
 242, 243, 244, 248, 251, 256, 
 259, 261, 262, 266, 280, 284, 
 289, 294, 295, 302, 305, 310, 
 313, 317, 318, 319, 320, 336, 
 343, 354, 363, 365, 368, 384, 
 385, 386, 387, 390, 392, 395, 
 403, 406, 410, 415, 417, 419, 
 421, 441, 451, 459, 460, 461, 
 462, 463, 466, 468, 469, 490. 
 
 Goethe, Christiane Sophie, 135, 
 224. 
 
 Goethe, Julius August Walther, 
 37, 41, 53, 137, 149, 169, 216, 
 217, 223, 224, 313, 319, 394, 
 402, 415, 439. 
 
 Goethe, Katharina Elisabeth, 
 223, 224. 
 
 Goethe, Ottilie {nie von Pog- 
 wisch), 41, 149, 169, 200, 223, 
 226, 311, 313, 400, 407, 426. 
 464, 466, 467, 481, 484. 
 
 Goldsmith, 381. 
 
 Gorres, 63. 
 
 Gotha, Prince of, 87, 358. 
 
 Gott und die Bajadere, Der, 122, 
 443, 486. 
 
 Gotter Helden und Wieland, 
 318 
 
 Gottsched, 392. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 497 
 
 Gotz von Berlichingen, 21, 23, 
 26, 27, 28, 32, 317, 318. 
 
 Gower, Levison, 460. 
 
 Graun, 233, 357, 393, 405, 424, 
 425, 443, 445. 
 
 Greece, 121. 
 
 Greek Tragedy, 5, 12, 14, 381. 
 
 Gr^try, 394, 470. 
 
 Giies, 358. 
 
 Griepenkerl, 251. 
 
 Grillparzer, 164, 189, 278. 
 
 Grothe, 405. 
 
 Grotius, 213. 
 
 Grove's Dictionary of Music, 4, 
 91, 133. 
 
 Griinbaum, Madame, 236. 
 
 Griiner, 131. 
 
 Guercino, 256. 
 
 Guizot, 369. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hackert, G., 182, 183. 
 Hackert, Philip, 182, 191, 405. 
 Hagen, August, 200. 
 Hagen, Frau von, 350. 
 Hamilton, Lady, 118. 
 Hamlet, 86. 
 Handel, 123, 133, 142, 145, 155, 
 
 167, 194, 227, 229, 230, 231, 
 
 233, 287, 288, 298, 336, 337, 
 
 381, 405, 425, 428, 431. 
 Handschuh, Der, 306. 
 Hardenberg, 121. 
 Hartel, 133. 
 Hasse, 98, 405, 434, 435, 436, 
 
 438, 439. 
 Hassler, 339. 
 Hmide iind Spenersche Zeitung, 
 
 227, 255. 
 Hauser, 451. 
 Haydn, 91, 110, 167, 173, 174, 
 
 175, 181, 191, 194, 260, 265, 
 
 285, 373, 398, 399, 400, 424, 
 
 456. 
 Hegel, 212, 302, 317, 327, 352, 
 
 353, 373, 412, 420, 424, 458, 
 
 476, 481, 489. 
 Heidelberg, Jahrbiicher of, 158. 
 Heine, 152. 
 Heinitz, Count, 371. 
 Helena, 13. 
 
 Helena, mother of Constantine 
 
 the Great, 435, 448. 
 Hengstenberg, 471. 
 Henning, 406. 
 Henry, Prince, brother of 
 
 Frederick the Great, 229, 230, 
 
 436. 
 Hensel, 221, 364, 412. 
 Heraud, 460. 
 Hercules, Pillars of, 491. 
 Herder, 8, 9, 10, 141, 229, 454. 
 Hermann, 261, 477. 
 Hertzberg, 219. 
 Heyse, 250. 
 HiUer, 298. 
 HUler, F., 482. 
 Himmel, 84, 455. 
 Hippocrates, 420. 
 Hirt, 68, 162. 
 
 History of Art, The, 17, 19. 
 Hochzeitlied, 6. 
 Holland, 280, 364, 
 Holtei, 313, 346. 
 Homer, 29, 30, 163, 213, 233, 
 
 356, 441. 
 Horen, Die, 93. 
 Hufeland, 396. 
 Hugel, Fraulein, 123. 
 Hugo, v., 458. 
 Humboldt, A. von, 467. 
 Humboldt, Frau von, 127. 
 Humboldt, K. W., 16, 66, 85, 
 
 265, 408. 
 Hummel, 203, 221, 222, 236, 263, 
 
 432, 434, 438. 
 Hungaiy, 186, 188, 424. 
 Hungary, Matthias, King of, 
 
 370. 
 Hymn-Book, Berlin, 405. 
 Hymn-Book, Porst, 405. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ideale, Die, 302, 359, 416. 
 Iffland, 11, 22, 32, 34, 44, 84, 
 
 100, 101, 115, 119. 
 Iliad, The, 116, 235. 
 Iphigenia in Aulis, 477. 
 Iphi^enia, Opera, 90, 91. 
 Iphigenie in Tauris, 13, 150, 
 
 241, 283, 462. 
 Ireland, 364. 
 
498 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Italidnische Beise, Die, 112, 118, 
 119, 150, 152, 161, 343. 
 
 Italy, 4, 51, 56, 98, 99, 112, 152, 
 156, 160, 182, 312, 318, 336, 
 351. 364, 394, 400, 405, 411, 
 412 439, 457, 485, 486. 
 
 J. 
 Jacobi, F. H., 36, 193. 
 Jagemann, Caroline, 40, 85. 
 Jassy, 48. 
 Jerdan, 460. 
 
 Joanna, Queen of Bohemia, 196. 
 Jomelli, 108. 
 Jordan, 460. 
 
 Journal of Fashion, The, 18. 
 Jouy, De, 199, 479, 480. 
 Judas Iscariot, 29, 31. 
 Jungfrau von Orleans, Die, 396. 
 Jungius, 324, 325, 326, 338. 
 
 K. 
 
 Kabale und Liebe, 34, 398, 415. 
 
 Kaiser, Christoph, 112. 
 
 Kandler, 289. 
 
 Kant, 386, 454. 
 
 Kappe, 48. 
 
 Karsten, 40. 
 
 Kecht, 330, 475. 
 
 KeUner, 324. 
 
 Kerl, C, 232. 
 
 Kiesewetter, 105. 
 
 Kirnbergcr, J. P., 115, 169, 347, 
 
 356. 
 Kittel, 133. 
 Kloden, 326. 
 Klopstock, 166, 188, 302, 365, 
 
 455, 460. 
 Knebel, 10, 153. 
 Korner, 446. 
 Korner, T., 420, 446. 
 Kotzebue, A. F. R, 23, 151, 
 
 188, 396, 427, 459, 471. 
 Kraus, G. M., 200. 
 Ki-itheis, 29, 30. 
 Kruger, 283, 340, 414. 
 Kugelgen, 76. 
 Kugler, 269. 
 Kunst und AUerthum, 156, 158, 
 
 165, 200, 202, 217, 234, 241, 
 
 242, 262, 282, 284, 305, 314, 
 
 382. 
 
 La Coorl, 115. 
 
 Langermann, 217. 
 
 Lannes, Marshal, 45. 
 
 Laocoon, 17. 
 
 La Koche, 292, 293. 
 
 Las Cases, 368. 
 
 Laune des Verliebten, Die, 109, 
 
 462. 
 Lauchery, 20. 
 Lautier, 397, 399. 
 Lehrjahre, WUhelm Meisters, 1, 
 
 7, 35, 36, 111, 165, 361, 362, 463. 
 Leibnitz, 282. 
 Lemm, 126, 128. 
 Leo, 434, 439. 
 Leonardo da Vinci, 153, 157, 
 
 158, 182, 439, 441. 
 Lessing, 166, 193, 203, 236, 256, 
 
 358, 317, 318, 411, 424, 452. 
 Lesueur, 182. 
 Levezow, Frau von, 83. 
 Levezow, Ulrike von, 221. 
 Levin, 28. 
 Lewes's Life of Goethe, 16, 18, 
 
 36, 57, 64, 406, 460. 
 Lichtenstein, Prince, 188. 
 Liedertafel, 65, 66, 71, 73, 106, 
 
 119, 229, 409. 
 Lied von der Gloche, Das, 36. 
 Lind, Jenny, 486. 
 Link, 303, 427, 428. 
 Linnaeus, 139, 140, 304. 
 Literarische Zeitung, 19. 
 Literatur Zeitung, 17, 33. 
 Literary Gazette, The, 460. 
 Lockhart, 460. 
 Longfellow, 267. 
 Lorenz Stark, 93. 
 Lorziag, 68. 
 Lotti, 191. 
 Ludwig, Carl, 29. 
 Lulu oder Die Zauberflbte, 5. 
 Luther, 42, 43, 44, 142, 144, 226, 
 
 232, 298. 
 Liitzow, 105. 
 Lycurgus, 380. 
 Lysippus, 234. 
 
 M. 
 
 Maas, Mdlle., 87, 131. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 499 
 
 Macbeth, 253, 255, 327, 384. 
 Maelzel, 134. 
 Maginn, 460. 
 Mahomet, 150, 183. 
 Mantegna, 353. 
 Mantius, 486. 
 Manzoni, 266, 284. 
 Mara, 229, 230, 436, 437. 
 Mara, Madame, 7, 10, 12, 16, 
 
 138, 212, 229, 230, 231, 395, 
 
 432, 434, 435, 436, 443, 445. 
 Marches!, 159. 
 Marcus Aurelius, 186. 
 Markus, Levin, 350. 
 Marpurg, 167, 168, 169, 356, 
 
 472. 
 Marschner, 446. 
 Martial, 1, 18. 
 Marx, 404, 405. 
 Mattausch, 34. 
 Mattheson, J., 155, 167. 
 Matthisson, 53, 261, 455. 
 Mayer, J. S., 156, 159, 160, 161, 
 
 186. 
 Mecklenburg, George, Prince of, 
 
 126. 
 Mecklenburg, Karl, Prince of, 
 
 126, 127, 128. 
 Medea, 470. 
 Melancthon, 43. 
 Megerle, Ulrike, 120. 
 Meles, 29, 30. 
 Mellecher, 224. 
 Mendelssohn, A., 19, 117, 127, 
 
 128, 206, 207, 217, 236, 244, 
 245, 326, 450, 456. 
 Mendelssohn, F., 3, 16, 19, 122, 
 
 127, 203, 206, 207, 208, 209, 
 218, 224, 226, 237, 238, 244, 
 245, 248, 250, 263, 264, 278, 
 279, 288, 315, 351, 352, 353, 
 357, 364, 367, 369, 393, 394, 
 399, 400, 401, 404, 412, 417, 
 424, 426, 439, 441, 446, 450, 
 455, 456, 465, 475, 477, 481, 
 482, 485, 486, 487. 
 
 Mendelssohn, Fanny, 236, 237, 
 
 264. 
 Mendelssohn, Henrietta, 245, 
 
 476. 
 Mendelssohn, Lieutenant, 106. 
 
 Mendelssohn, M., 19, 193, 258, 
 
 476. 
 Merck, 387. 
 
 Merkur, Der Deutsche, 299, 318. 
 Messiah, The, 212, 229, 231, 233, 
 
 288. 
 Metamorphose der Pflanzen, Die, 
 
 18, 139, 304, 340. 
 Metastasio, 56, 438. 
 Meyer, H., 17, 19, 83, 119, 120, 
 
 137, 141, 201, 281, 305. 
 Meyerbeer, G., 112, 159. 
 Michel, 258. 
 Mickiewicz, 363. 
 Milder-Hauptmann, P. A., 90, 
 
 91, 95, 117, 138, 220, 221, 236, 
 
 315, 395, 418, 447. 
 Milton, 16, 365, 381, 383. 
 Mirandola, Pico della, 424. 
 Misanthrope, Le, 323. 
 Mitschuldigen, Die, 236. 
 Mizler, 325. 
 Moir, 460. 
 Molifere, 236, 323. 
 Monti, 160. 
 Moravia, 31, 213. 
 Morgenblatt, Das, 118, 129, 165, 
 
 360. 
 Morghen, 153, 158. 
 Moritz, 398, 415, 416. 
 Morphologic, 157, 165, 181, 217, 
 
 242. 
 Moseheles, 236, 351, 433. 
 Moser, 369, 373, 374, 443. 
 Mozart, 5, 10, 12, 91, 98, 110, 
 
 116, 167, 172, 174, 175, 179, 
 
 227, 251, 265, 296, 297, 298, 
 
 304, 324, 351, 373, 394, 400, 
 
 405, 414, 465, 475, 477, 481. 
 Muette von Portici, La, 348, 
 
 380. 
 Miiller, A. E., 81, 471. 
 MUller, Cantor, 10. 
 Miiller, F., 158. 
 Miiller, J., 21, 22, 397. 
 MuUer, Kanzler von, 241, 490. 
 Musenalmanach, 1, 2, 372, 
 
 374. 
 Musikalische Zeitmig, 33. 
 Musaus, 236. 
 Myron, 234, 382. 
 
500 
 
 N. 
 Nagel, Z69. 
 Napoleon, 45, 64, 73, 79, 132, 
 
 135, 162, 202, 367, 368, 388, 
 
 392, 432, 450. 
 Napoleon, Due de Reichstadt, 
 
 173, 189. 
 Naturlehre, 152. 
 Naturliche, Toohter, Die (or 
 
 Eugenie), 12, 16, 17, 23, 28, 
 
 260, 464. 
 Nathan der Weise, 258. 
 Naumann, 236, 302, 318, 359, 
 
 416, 455. 
 Navarino, Battle of, 312. 
 Nepomuc, St. John, 196. 
 Netherlands, The, 138. 
 Neugrieehische Heldenlieder, 
 
 259. 
 Neureuther, 448. 
 Newton, 80. 
 Newtonians, 75. 
 Nicolai, 57, 201, 416, 424.. 
 Nioolai, Otto, 464. 
 Niebuhr, 428, 429, 431. 
 Noah, 475. 
 Norway, 55, 326. 
 Novalis, 471. 
 Novdle, Die, 303. 
 
 0. 
 
 Odilon-Barrot, 483. 
 Odyssey, The, 116. 
 Oehlenschlager, 63, 336. 
 Oggionno, Marco d', 158. 
 Oldenburg, 74. 
 Olfried und Lisena, 200. 
 Orgagna, A., 269. 
 Orgagna, B., 269. 
 Orientalischer Divan, 119. 
 Orlando Fwrioso, 426. 
 Othdlo, 171, 393, 394, 399. 
 
 P. 
 Pachelbel, 226, 231, 232. 
 Pachiarotti, 159. 
 Paer, 73, 450. 
 PaesieUo, 157, 160. 
 Paganini, 357, 358, 359, 360, 368, 
 
 369, 449. 
 Palestrina, 339. 
 
 Panokoucke, Madame, 317. 
 
 Pandora, 59, 74, 83, 221. 
 
 Parry's Last Days of Lord 
 Byron, 246, 249. 
 
 Pastor Fido, 237. 
 
 Penelope, 26. 
 
 Pepin, 333. 
 
 Pergolesi, 439. 
 
 Penera, Baroness von, 186. 
 
 Peter the Great, 280. 
 
 Pfeiffer, Madame Birch-, 411, 
 418. 
 
 Pfizer, 467. 
 
 Pfund, 102. 
 
 Phaeton, 261. 
 
 Phidias, 39. 
 
 Philoctetes, 261. 
 
 Pilate, 14. 
 
 Pisaroni, 159. 
 
 Plotinus, 38. 
 
 Plutarch, 467. 
 
 Poems, 1, 6, 7, 8, 9, 26, 52, 53, 
 55, 57, 59, 67, 71, 72, 73, 77, 
 78, 81, 94, 104, 106, 107, 108, 
 109, 110, 111, 113, 117, 122, 
 123, 125, 130, 133, 154, 159, 
 161, 164, 165, 187, 188, 192, 
 193, 196, 205, 206, 213, 214, 
 215, 221, 256, 259, 260, 266, 
 277, 295, 299, 300, 303, 306, 
 317, 328, 341-3, 359, 360, 372, 
 396, 403, 407, 435, 446, 451, 
 457, 461, 468, 469, 477, 485. 
 
 Pogwisch, Ubike von, 208, 217, 
 400, 484. 
 
 Poland, 371. 
 
 Pole, 296. 
 
 Polignac, Prince, 315. 
 
 Porpora, 98. 
 
 Poussin, 182, 237. 
 
 Prater, The, 172, 174, 176, 177. 
 
 Preciosa, 335. 
 
 Preusz's Friedrich der Grosse, 
 220. 
 
 Prinz, 232. 
 
 Procter, 460. 
 
 Prolegomena ad Homerwm, 21, 
 162. 
 
 Prometheiis, or Pandorens Wie- 
 derkunft, 59, 193, 198. 
 
 Propertius, 10, 28. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 601 
 
 Propylden, Die, 100. 
 Proserpina, 118, 119. 
 Proske, 339. 
 
 Prussia, 23, 184, 228, 371, 372. 
 Prussia, Crown Prince of, 197, 
 
 257, 340, 372. 
 Prussia, King of, 44, 65, 66, 115, 
 
 128, 195, 197, 203, 257, 308, 
 
 337, 351, 396, 414. 
 Prussia, Louisa, Queen of, 11, 
 
 12. 
 Pygmalion, 95. 
 Pythagoras, 96. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quarterly Review, The, 460. 
 Quintilian, 354. 
 
 E. 
 Raphael, 182, 191, 198, 452. 
 Radzivil, Prince, 126, 195, 417. 
 Radzivil, Princess, 195. 
 Eameau, 87. 
 Rameau's Neffe, 35, 242. 
 Ramler, 424, 445. 
 Rasoumowsicy, 308. 
 Baiiber, Die, 34, 398, 415. 
 Ranch, 200, 201, 234, 363, 402, 
 
 479. 
 Raumer, 386. 
 Raynal, 28. 
 
 Recke, Frau von der, 126. 
 Redern, Count, 447. 
 Reichardt, J. F., 7, 16, 27, 33, 
 
 112, 230, 437. 
 Beineke Fuchs, 346. 
 Reinhard, 48. 
 Remhrandt, 120. 
 Remorini, 161. 
 Eemie de Paris, 449. 
 Revue Franqaise, La, 369. 
 Retsch, 344. 
 Richter, J. P. F., 63. 
 Riemer, 77, 85, 86, 279, 287, 300, 
 
 423. 
 Eies, F., 433. 
 Rietz, 481. 
 Righini, V., 91. 
 Rinaldo, 87, 88, 94, 358. 
 Ring, 356. 
 Rintel, 1. 
 
 Robert, 89. 
 
 Robinson, Crabb, 365, 381. 
 
 Roehlitz, 7, 227, 229, 230, 231. 
 
 Rochus Fest, 137, 141. 
 
 Rodriques, 482. 
 
 Romano, Giulio, 256, 412, 414. 
 
 Romberg, 37, 308. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, 85, 86. 
 
 Rondanini, 257. 
 
 Rosel, 299. 
 
 Rosenmeier, 219, 220. 
 
 Rosenmuller, 232. 
 
 Rossini, 155, 156, 166, 171, 172, 
 
 174, 184, 237, 385, 393, 394, 
 
 395, 408, 411, 472. 
 Rousseau, 95. 
 Rubens, 120, 182. 
 Rudolf, Archduke, 185. 
 Rumpf, K., 232. 
 Russia, 55, 184. 
 Russia, Czar of, 40. 
 Russia, Empress of, 221. 
 Russia, Maria Feodorowna, 
 
 Dowager Empress of, 167, 336. 
 Ruth, Book of, 226. 
 
 Sachs, Hans, 403, 404. 
 Sachs-Weimar-Eisenach, Karl 
 
 Bernhard, Duke of, 277, 354. 
 Sachtleben, 452, 453. 
 St. Cyr, General, 103. 
 St. Romaine, Madame, 443. 
 St. Simon, Due de, 389. 
 Salieri, 91, 173, 179, 186. 
 Salis, 53. 
 Salter, Widdowson, and Tate, 
 
 460. 
 Salvandy, 240. 
 Salzmann, 16. 
 Samson, 87, 88, 89, 381. 
 Samson Agonistes, 365, 381. 
 Santini, 424. 
 Saphir, 399. 
 Sartorius, 110. 
 Satyros oder der vergotterte 
 
 Waldteufel, 193. 
 Saxony, 302. 
 Saxony, King of, 337. 
 Scaliger, 424. 
 Scarlatti, 232, 439. 
 
502 
 
 Scsevola, Muoius, 390. 
 
 Sehadow, 124, 162, 182, 227. 
 
 Schafer, Mdlle., 416. 
 
 Schale, 443. 
 
 Schall, 462. 
 
 Schechner, Mdlle., 447. 
 
 Scheldt, 232. 
 
 Schein, 232. 
 
 Scherz, List utid Bache, 112. 
 
 Sehikaneder, 5. 
 
 SchUler, 1, 2, 8, 9, 10, 11, 15, 16, 
 17, 18, 19, 21, 22, 26, 27, 28, 
 32, 34, 35, 36, 40, 46, 47, 52, 
 53, 69, 92, 100, 119, 121, 235, 
 241, 244, 262, 265, 302, 303, 
 306, 310, 359, 360, 384, 395, 
 396, 398, .399, 410, 413, 414, 
 415, 416, 417, 425, 426, 427, 
 454, 455, 460, 471, 473. 
 
 Schinkel, 455. 
 
 Schlegel, A. W., 299, 300, .323, 
 470, 471. 
 
 Schlegel, F., 59, 470, 471. 
 
 Schleiermacher, 25. 
 
 Schlosser, E., 224. 
 
 Schlosser, F., 224. 
 
 Schmalz, 356. 
 
 Schmeling, 438. 
 
 Schmidt, 45. 
 
 Schmidt, J. P., 420. 
 
 Schopenhauer, 40. 
 
 Schriftprohen, 63. 
 
 Schibder-Devrient, Madame, 
 433. 
 
 Schroder, F. L., 86. 
 
 Schroter, Corona, 236. 
 
 ^chubart, 417. 
 
 Schubarth, 206, 209. 
 
 Schulz, 113, 117, 128, 157, 162, 
 264. 
 
 Sohultz, Prof., 303. 
 
 Schulze, 120. 
 
 Schulze, Oberbaurath, 303. 
 
 Schuster, Ignaz, 171. 
 
 Schutz, 132, 168. 
 
 Schutz, H. , 232. 
 
 Schutz, Hofrath, 18. 
 
 Schutzgeist, Der, 151. 
 
 Schwabe, 241. 
 
 Schweizer, 318. 
 
 Schweizerfamilie, Die, 89, 90, 175. 
 
 SckeU, 320. 
 
 Scotland, 55, 316, 364, 473. 
 
 Scott's Life of Napoleon, 307, 
 
 308, 311. 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 307, 312, 364, 
 
 460. 
 Scotti, Count, 160. 
 Scribe, 349, 443, 472. 
 Sebastian!, General, 245, 476. 
 Sebbers, 266. 
 
 Seebeck, 129, 264, 443, 483. 
 Seidler, 236. 
 Seneca, 203. 
 Senfel, 232. 
 
 Sentimental Journey, The, 451. 
 Seven before Thebes, The, 13. 
 Seiyiglia, II Sarbiere di, 237, 
 
 316. 
 Shakespeare, 86, 98, 119, 140, 
 >'■ 233, 253, 289, 290, 356, 358, 
 
 384, 385, 394. 
 Sibbern, 104. 
 Sickler, 165. 
 Silbermann, 469. 
 Silesia, 83. 
 Singakademie, 4, 25, 49, 51, 73, 
 
 81, 112, 126, 199, 203, 222, 236, 
 
 352, 399, 446, 468. 
 Singe-Thees, 51. 
 Singschule, 50. 
 Singspielen, 16. 
 Sohne d-es Thais, Die, 42. 
 Solomon's Song, 242, 387. 
 Solon, 151, 466. 
 Sontag, MdUe., 268, 304, 306, 
 
 315, 316, 393, 394, 399. 
 Sophocles, 13, 261, 356. 
 Soret, 340. 
 Southey, 460. 
 
 Spain, Philip V., King of, 99. 
 Spiker, 253. 
 Spinoza, 140, 193, 386. 
 Spohr, 202, 253, 308, 373. 
 Spontini, 79, 166, 197, 199, 246, 
 
 247, 248, 308, 337, 391, 394, 
 
 398, 399, 418, 442, 447, 479, 
 
 480, 485, 486. 
 Stahat Mater, 53. 
 Stadler, 189. 
 
 Stael, Madame de, 21, 197. 
 Stein, Charlotte von, 40. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 503 
 
 Steiner, 188, 189. 
 
 Stendhal, de, 161. 
 
 Sterling, 440. 
 
 Sternberg, Count Caspar, 214, 
 
 296. 
 Sterne, 381, 406, 451. 
 Stieler, 327, 395, 401. 
 Stolberg, Count, 460. 
 Stosch, 305. 
 Streckfuss, 225, 226, 266, 267, 
 
 268. 
 Streicher, 204. 
 Struve, 256. 
 Stumer, 352. 
 
 Stuttgarter Kunstblatt, 259. 
 Suetonius, 94. 
 Sulzer, 462. 
 Supplices, The, 13. 
 Sussmayr, 296, 297, 298. 
 Sweden, 326. 
 Switzerland, 475. 
 Szymanowska, Madame, 221, 
 
 363. 
 
 Tacitus, 23. 
 
 Tancred, 183. 
 
 Tancredi, 166, 237. 
 
 Tartini, 452. 
 
 Tartuffe, 323. 
 
 Tasso, 393. 
 
 Taucher, Der, 359, 417. 
 
 Taylor, 10, 461. 
 
 Teaching of Spinoza, The, 36. 
 
 Telemann, 101, 232, 445. 
 
 Temps, Le, 369, 391. 
 
 Terence, 213, 250. 
 
 Temite, 281, 346, 366. 
 
 Thaer, 227, 334. 
 
 Thayer's Life of Beethoven, 91. 
 
 Thidtre de Clara Gazul, Le, 
 
 281. 
 Th(5auIon, 247. 
 TheUe, 232. 
 Thibaut, 123, 164. 
 Thomas-Schule, 10, ,347. 
 Thomson, 424. 
 Thorwaldsen, 414, 415, 451. 
 Tieck, 455. 
 Tiedge, 53, 127, 455. 
 Titian, 182, 210. 
 
 Torquato Tasso, 130, 240, 283, 
 
 391, 393. 
 Trent, Council of, 209. 
 Triumph der Empfindsamkcit, 
 
 Der, 118. 
 Troilua and Cressida, 233, 235. 
 
 U. 
 Ueber Beinheit der Tonkunst, 
 
 123. 
 Uhlaiid, 467. 
 Ulrich, 182. 
 Ulrike, 484. 
 Unger, 3, 18, 19. 
 Unger, Madame, 1. 
 Unrelmann, 19. 
 Unzelmann, Madame, 19. 
 Usteri, 346. 
 
 V. 
 Vallo, Pietro della, 324. 
 Varnhagen, Frau von, 350. 
 Vespasian, 94. 
 Vespino, 158. 
 
 Vestalin, Die, 79, 199, 427- 
 Vetter 232. 
 
 Vicar of Wakefield, The, 381. 
 Victor, General, 45. 
 Vigano, 486. 
 ViUemain, 369. 
 Vinci, 439. 
 Viol, 459. 
 Virgil, 271. 
 Vivaldi, 355, 356. 
 Vogel, 419, 420. 
 Vogler, 112. 
 Voigt, 16, 365. 
 Volkommene Capellmeister, Der, 
 
 155, 167. 
 Volkslieder, 9. 
 Volkslieder, Servian, 246. 
 Voltaire, 75, 87, 150, 183, 184. 
 Von Kunst und Alterthum am 
 
 Rhein und Main, 121, 124, 
 
 151. 
 Voss, 17, 21, 59, 72, 264, 302, 
 
 455. 
 Voss, Ernestine, 2G4. 
 
 W. 
 Wagner, R., 404. 
 
604 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wahlverwandtschaften, Die, 67, 
 
 92, 307, 386, 471. 
 Wahrheit und Dichtung, 388, 
 
 390, 423. 
 Wallenstein, 17, 40, 121, 416, 
 
 460, 473. 
 Walpwrgis Nacht, Die Clas- 
 
 sische, 392. 
 Walpwrgis Naeht, Die Erste, 3, 
 
 95. 
 Walter, 232. 
 Wanda, 42. 
 Wanderjahre, Wilhelm Meis- 
 
 ters, 202, 206, 288, 314, 340, 345. 
 Wassertrager, Der, 470. 
 Weber's Life of Weber, 112. 
 Weber, B. A., 124, 132. 
 Weber, C. M., 112, 203, 238, 
 
 264, 373. 
 Weber, G., 296. 
 Weigl, 175, 186. 
 Weine der Kraft, Die, 42. 
 Weimar, Amalia, Dowager 
 
 Duchess of, 28, 46, 85, 359. 
 Weimar, Constantine, Piince 
 
 of, 10. 
 Weimar, Karl August, Grand 
 
 Duke of, 16, 18, 40, 153, 163, 
 
 218, 239, 241, 277, 301, 319, 
 
 397. 
 Weimar, Karl Friedrich, Grand 
 
 Duke of, 9. 
 Weimar, Luise, Grand Duchess 
 
 of, 208, 390. 
 Weimar, Maria Paulowua, 
 
 Grand Duchess of, 9, 348. 
 Weimar, Princess of, 362. 
 Weiss, 80. 
 Weisse, 392. 
 Weissagungen des Bakis, Die, 
 
 310. 
 Wenceslaus, King, 196. 
 Werneburg, 96. 
 Werner, Z., 42, 52, 63, 213. 
 Werther, 57, 93, 125, 317. 
 West 447. 
 Wieland, 5, 18, 28, 130, 300, 306, 
 
 314, 318, 359, 489. 
 Wilhelm Tell, 21, 22, 26, 27, 
 
 131, 408, 411. 
 Wilken, 317. 
 
 WUlemer, Marianne von, 122. 
 
 Wilman's Tasohenhuch, 4. 
 
 Wilson, 460. 
 
 Winckehnann, 120. 
 
 Winter, 15, 87, 89, 304, 358, 362. 
 
 R' ohltemperirte Clavier, Das, 
 
 155, 168. 
 Wolf, F. A., 21, 33, 36, 37, 45, 
 
 52, 64, 132, 133, 137, 141, 162, 
 
 181, 214, 233, 261. 
 Wolff, Madame, 123, 133, 135, 
 
 462. 
 Wolff, P. A., 123, 130, 131, 447, 
 
 488. 
 Wolff, Prof., 317. 
 WoLkonsky, Princess, 363. 
 Wolzogen, Frau von, 454. 
 Wokogen, Geh. Eath von, 10, 12. 
 Wordsworth, 460. 
 Wranitzky, 5. 
 Wunsch, 333. 
 Wurmb, Fraulein von, 413, 454. 
 
 X. 
 
 Xenien, 1, 205, 295, 396. 
 Xenia, 18. 
 Xenophon, 163. 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zahn, 305, 440, 488, 489. 
 
 Zauherflote, Die, 5, 15, 91, 265, 
 298, 305. 
 
 Zelter, Clarohen, 139, 198. 
 
 Zelter, Doris, 206, 208, 217, 419, 
 421, 422, 481. 
 
 Zelter, Georg, 281. 
 
 Zelter, K. F., 1, 2, 3, 4, 9, 15, 
 29, 32, 37, 42, 45, 51, 59, 76, 
 115, 137, 139, 150, 162, 191, 
 198, 199, 208, 213, 226, 236, 
 241, 243, 244, 246, 247, 251, 
 256, 281, 300, 302, 310, 317, 
 336, 355, 368, 390, 396, 399, 
 409, 419, 423, 441, 456, 460, 
 461, 490. 
 
 Zelter, Karl, 92, 422. 
 
 Zelter, Louisa, 422. 
 
 Zelter, Rosamunde, 420, 422. 
 
 Zenobius, 92. 
 
 Zinkgraf, 8. 
 
 Zbllner, 416. 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS: — C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.