The Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Part 2

0026

0026f

The Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Part 2

    Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5    Part 6    Part 7    Part 8    Part 9    Part 10

THE COMPLETE WORKS OF 

Jobann Wlolfoano von (Soetbe 

IN TEN VOLUMES 

VOLUME II 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

THE TRUTH AND FICTION 
RELATING TO MY LIFE 



PART II 



TRANSLATED BY 

JOHN OXENFORD 




NEW YORK : P. F. COLLIER W SON : PUBLISHERS 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

TRUTH AND FICTION RELATING TO MY LIFE 



Goethe — 1 



Vol 2 



CONTENTS. 



PART THE SECOND (Continued). 

PAGE 

Tenth Book 9 

PART THE THIRD. 

Eleventh Book . 52 

Twelfth Book 97 

Thirteenth Book 141 

Fourteenth Book * 176 

Fifteenth Book . 205 

PART THE FOURTH. 

Sixteenth Book .......... 233 

Seventeenth Book 249 

Eighteenth Book 272 

Nineteenth Book 296 

Twentieth Book 317 

7 



TRUTH AND FICTION RELATING TO MY LIFE. 



TENTH BOOK. 

When the German poets, as members of a corporation, 
were no longer standing as one man, they did not enjoy the 
smallest advantages among their fellow-citizens. They had 
neither support, standing, nor respectability, except in so far 
as their other position was favorable to them ; and therefore 
it was a matter of mere chance whether talent was born to 
honor or to disgrace. A poor son of earth, with a conscious- 
ness of mind and faculties, was forced to crawl along pain- 
fully through life, and, from the pressure of momentary 
necessities, to squander the gifts which perchance he had re- 
ceived from the Muses. Occasional poems, the first and most 
genuine of all kinds of poetry, had become despicable to such 
a degree, that the nation even now cannot attain a conception 
of their high value : and a poet, if he did not strike altogether 
into Giinther's path, appeared in the world in the most mel- 
ancholy state of subserviency, as a jester and parasite ; so 
that both on the theatre and on the stage of life he repre- 
sented a character which any one and every one could abuse 
at pleasure. 

If, on the contrary, the Muse associated herself with men 
of respectability, these received thereby a lustre which was 
reflected back to the donor. Noblemen well versed in life, 
like Hagedorn ; dignified citizens, likeBrockes ; distinguished 
men of science, like Haller, — appeared among the first in the 
nation, to be equal with the most eminent and the most prized. 
Those persons, too, were specially honored, who, together 
with this pleasing talent, distinguished themselves as active, 
faithful men of business. In this way Uz, Rabener, and 

9 



10 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Weisse enjoyed a respect of quite a peculiar kind : people 
had here to value, when combined, those most heterogeneous 
qualities which are seldom found united. 

But now the time was to come for poetic genius to become 
self-conscious, to create for itself its own circumstances, and 
understand how to lay the foundation of an independent dig- 
nity. Every thing requisite for founding such an epoch was 
combined in Klopstock. Considered, both from the sensual 
nnd moral side, he was a pure young man. Seriously and 
thoroughly educated, he places from his youth upwards a great 
value upon himself and upon whatever he does, and, while 
considerately measuring out beforehand the steps of his life, 
turns, with a presentiment of the whole strength of his inter- 
nal nature, towards the loftiest and most grateful theme. The 
Messiah, a name which betokens infinite attributes, was to be 
glorified afresh by him. The Redeemer was to be the hero 
whom the poet thought to accompany through earthly lowli- 
ness and sorrows to the highest heavenly triumphs. Every 
thing Godlike, angelic, and human that lay in the young soul 
was here called into requisition. Brought up by the Bible 
and nourished by its strength, he now lives with patriarchs, 
prophets, and forerunners, as if they were present ; yet all 
these are only evoked from ages to draw a bright halo round 
the One whose humiliation they behold with astonishment, 
and in whose exaltation they are gloriously to bear a part. 
For at last, after gloomy and horrible hours, the everlasting 
Judge will uncloud his face, again acknowledge his Son and 
fellow-God, who, on the other hand, will again lead to him 
alienated men, — nay, even a fallen spirit. The living heavens 
shout with a thousand angel voices round the throne, and a 
radiance of love gushes out over the universe, which shortly 
before had fastened its looks upon a fearful place of sacrifice. 
The heavenly peace which Klopstock felt in the conception 
and execution of this poem communicates itself even now to 
every one who reads the first ten cantos, without allowing 
certain requisitions to be brought forward, which an advan- 
cing cultivation does not willingly abandon. 

The dignity of the subject elevated in the poet the feeling 
of his own personality. That he himself would enter here- 
after into those choirs, that the God-Man would distinguish 
him, nay, give him face to face the reward for his labors, 
which even here every feeling, pious heart had fondly paid 
in many a pure tear, — these were such innocent, child-like 
thoughts and hopes, as only a well-constituted mind can 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 11 

conceive and cherish. Thus Klopstock gained the perfect 
right to regard himself as a consecrated person, and thus in 
his actions he studied the most scrupulous purit} r . Even 
in his old age it troubled him exceedingly that he had given 
his earliest love to a lady who, by marrying another, left him 
in uncertainty whether she had really loved or been worthy 
of him. The sentiments which bound him to Meta ; their 
hearty, tranquil affection ; their short, sacred married life ; 
the aversion of the surviving husband from a second union, 
— all is of that kind which may well be remembered here- 
after in the circle of the blessed. 

This honorable conduct towards himself was still further 
enhanced by his being favorably received for a long time in 
well-minded Denmark, in the house of a great, and, humanly 
speaking, excellent, statesman. Here, in a higher circle, which 
was exclusive indeed, but, at the same time, devoted to ex- 
ternal manners and attention towards the world, his tendency 
became still more decided. A composed demeanor, a meas- 
ured speech, and a laconism even when he spoke openly and 
decidedly, gave him, through his whole life, a certain diplo- 
matic ministerial consequence, which seemed to be at variance 
with his tender natural feelings, although both sprang from 
one source. Of all this, his first works give a clear transcript 
and type ; and they thus could not but gain an incredible influ- 
ence. That, however, he personally assisted others who were 
struggling in life and poetry, has scarcely been mentioned, as 
one of his most decided characteristics. 

But just such a furtherance of young people in literary 
action and pursuit, a hopeful pleasure in bringing forward 
men not favored by fortune, and making the way easy to them, 
has rendered illustrious one German, who, in respect to the 
dignity which he gave himself, may be named as the second, 
but, in regard to his living influence, as the first. It will 
escape no one that Gleim is here meant. Holding an obscure, 
but lucrative, office, residing in a pleasantly situated spot, 
not too large, and enlivened by military, civic, and literary 
activity, whence proceeded the revenues of a great and 
wealthy institution, not without a part of them remaining 
behind for the advantage of the place, he felt within himself 
also a lively productive impulse, which, however, with all its 
strength, was not quite enough for him ; and therefore he gave 
himself up to another, perhaps stronger, impulse, namely, that 
of making others produce something. Both these activities 
were intertwined incessantly during his whole long life. He 



12 TRUTH AND FICTION 

could as easily have lived without taking breath as without 
writing poetry and making presents ; and, by helping needy 
talents of all kinds through earlier or later embarrassments, 
contributing to the honor of literature, he gained so many 
friends, debtors, and dependents, that they willingly allowed 
his diffuse verses to pass, since they could give him nothing 
in return for his rich benefits but endurance of his poetry. 

Now, the high idea which these two men might well form 
of their own worth, and by which others were induced also 
to think w r ell of themselves, has produced very great and 
beautiful results, both in public and private. But this con- 
sciousness, honorable as it is, called a peculiar evil down upon 
themselves, on those around them, and on their time. If, 
judging from their intellectual effects, both these men may 
without hesitation be called great, with respect to the world 
they remained but small, and, considered in comparison with 
a more stirring life, their external position was nought. The 
day is long, and so is the night ; one cannot be always writ- 
ing poetry, or doing, or giving ; their time could not be filled 
up like that of people of the world, and men of rank and 
wealth ; they therefore set too high a value on their par- 
ticular limited situations, attached an importance to their 
daily affairs which they should only have allowed themselves 
amongst each other, and took more than reasonable delight in 
their own jokes, which, though they made the moment agree- 
able, could be of no consequence in the end. They received 
praise and honor from others, as they deserved ; they gave it 
back, with measure indeed, but always too profusely ; and, 
because they felt that their friendship was worth much, they 
were pleased to express it repeatedly, and in this spared neither 
paper nor ink. Thus arose those correspondences, at the defi- 
ciency of which in solid contents the modern world wonders ; 
nor can it be blamed, when it hardly sees the possibility of 
eminent men delighting themselves in such an interchange of 
nothing, or when it expresses the wish that such leaves might 
have remained imprinted. But we may suffer these few 
volumes alwa}^s to stand along with so many others upon our 
book-shelves, if we have learned from them the fact, that even 
the most eminent man lives only by the day, and enjoys but a 
sorry entertainment when he throws himself too much back 
upon himself, and neglects to grasp into the fulness of the 
external world, where alone he can find nourishment for his 
growth, and at the same time a standard for its measurement. 

The activity of these men was in its finest bloom, when we 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 13 

young folks also began to stir in our own circle ; and with 
my younger friends, if not with older persons too, I was pretty 
much in the way of falling into this sort of mutual flattery, 
f oxbearance, raising and supporting. In my immediate sphere , 
whatever I produced could always be reckoned good. Ladies, 
friends, and patrons will not consider bad that which is under- 
taken and written out of affection for them. From such 
obligations at last arises the expression of an empty satisfac- 
tion with each other, in the phrases of which a character is 
easily lost if it is not from time to time steeled to higher 
excellence. 

And thus I had the happiness to say, that, by means of an 
unexpected acquaintance, all the self-complacency, love of the 
looking-glass, vanity, pride, and haughtiness that might have 
been resting or working within me, were exposed to a very 
severe trial, which was unique in its kind, by no means in 
accordance with the time, and therefore so much the more 
searching and more sorely felt. 

For the most important event, one that was to have the 
weightiest consequences for me, was my acquaintance with 
Herder, and the nearer connection with him which sprung 
from it. He accompanied the travels of the Prince of Hol- 
stein-Eutin, who was in a melancholy state of mind, and had 
come with him to Strasburg. Our society, as soon as it knew 
of his arrival, was seized with a great longing to approach 
him ; and this good fortune happened to me first, quite unex- 
pectedly and by chance. I had gone to the Ghost tavern to 
inquire after some distinguished stranger or other. Just at 
the bottom of the staircase I found a man who was on the point 
of ascending, and whom I might have taken for a clergyman. 
His powdered hair was put up in a cue, his black clothes 
likewise distinguished him, but still more a long black silk 
mantle, the skirts of which he had gathered up and stuck into 
his pocket. This somewhat striking, but yet, on the whole, 
polite and pleasing, figure, of which I had already been told, 
left me not the least doubt that he was the celebrated new- 
comer ; and my address was to convince him at once that I 
knew him. He asked my name, which could be of no conse- 
quence to him ; but my frankness seemed to please him, since 
he returned it with great friendliness, and, as we mounted the 
stairs, showed himself ready immediately for animated com- 
munication. I have forgotten whom we visited then : it is 
sufficient to say, that at parting I begged permission to wait 
on him at his own residence, which he granted me kindly 



14 TRUTH AND FICTION 

enough. T did not neglect to avail myself repeatedly of this 
favor, and was more and more attracted by him. He had a 
certain gentleness in his manner, which was veiy suitable 
and becoming, without being exactly easy. A round face ; an 
imposing forehead ; a somewhat puggish nose ; a mouth some- 
what prominent, but highly characteristic, pleasing, and amia- 
ble ; a pair of coal-black eyes under black eyebrows, which 
did not fail of their effect, although one of them used to be red 
and inflamed. By various questions he tried to make himself 
acquainted with me and my situation, and his power of attrac- 
tion operated on me with growing strength. I was, generally 
speaking, of a very confiding disposition ; and with him espe- 
cially I had no secrets. It was not long, however, before the 
repelling pulse of his nature began to appear, and placed me 
in no small uneasiness. I related to him many things of my 
youthful occupations and taste, and among others, of a collec- 
tion of seals, which I had principally gotten together through 
the assistance of our family friend, who had an extensive cor- 
respondence. I had arranged them according to the " State 
Calendar," and by this means had become well acquainted witli 
the whole of the potentates, the greater and lesser mightinesses 
and powers, even down to the nobility under them. These 
heraldic insignia had often, and in particular at the ceremonies 
of the coronation, been of use to my memory. I spoke of 
these things with some complacency ; but he was of an- 
other opinion, and not only stripped the subject of all inter- 
est, but also contrived to make it ridiculous and nearly 
disgusting. 

From this his spirit of contradiction I had much to endure ; 
for he had resolved, partly because he wished to separate from 
the prince, partly on account of a complaint in his eye, to 
remain in Strasburg. This complaint is one of the most 
inconvenient and unpleasant, and the more troublesome as it 
can be cured only by a painful, highly irritating, and uncertain 
operation. The tear-bag is closed below, so that the moisture 
contained in it cannot flow oh to the nose, and so much the 
less as the adjacent bone is deficient in the aperture by which 
this secretion should naturally take place. The bottom of 
the tear-bag must therefore be cut open, and the bone bored 
through, when a horsehair is drawn through the lachyrmal 
point, then down through the opened bag, and the new ca- 
nal thus put into connection with it ; and this hair is moved 
backwards and forwards every day, in order to restore the 
communication between the two parts, — all which cannot be 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 15 

clone or attained, if an incision is not first made externally 
in that place. 

Herder was now separated from the prince, had moved into 
lodgings of his own, and resolved to have himself operated 
upon by Lobstein. Here those exercises by which I hod 
sought to blunt my sensibility did me good service : I was 
able to be present at the operation, and to be serviceable and 
helpful in many ways to so worthy a man. I found here every 
reason to admire his great firmness and endurance : for neither 
during the numerous surgical operations, nor at the of t- repeated 
painful dressings, did he show himself in any degree irritable ; 
and of all of us he seemed to be the one who suffered least. 
But in the intervals, indeed, we had to endure the change of 
his temper in many ways, I say we; for, besides myself, a 
pleasant Russian named Peglow was mostly with him. This 
man had been an early acquaintance of Herder's in Riga, 
and, though no longer a youth, was trying to perfect himself 
in surgery under Lobstein' s guidance. Herder could be 
charmingly prepossessing and brilliant, but he could just as 
easily turn an ill-humored side foremost. All men, indeed, 
have this attraction and repulsion, according to their natures, 
some more, some less, some in longer, some in shorter, pulsa- 
tions : few can really control their peculiarities in this respect, 
many in appearance. As for Herder, the preponderance of his 
contradictory, bitter, biting humor was certainly derived from 
his disease and the sufferings arising from it. This case often 
occurs in life : one does not sufficiently take into consideration 
the moral effect of sickly conditions ; and one therefore judges 
many characters very unjustly, because it is assumed that all 
men are healthy, and required of them that they shall conduct 
themselves accordingly. 

During the whole time of this cure I visited Herder morn- 
ing and evening : I even remained whole days with him, and 
in a short time accustomed myself so much the more to his 
chiding and fault-finding, as I daily learned to appreciate his 
beautiful and great qualities, his extensive knowledge, and 
his profound views. The influence of this good-natured blus- 
terer was great and important. He was five years older than 
myself, which in younger days makes a great difference to be- 
gin with ; and as I acknowledged him for what he was, and 
tried to value that which he had already produced, he necessa- 
rily gained a great superiority over me. But the situation was 
not comfortable ; for older persons, with whom I had associ- 
ated hitherto, had sought to form me with indulgence, perhaps 



10 TRUTH AND FICTION 

had even spoiled me by their lenity : but from Herder, behave 
as one might, one could never expect approval. As now, on 
the one side, my great affection and reverence for him, and, 
on the other, the discontent which he excited in me, were 
continually at strife with each other, there arose within me 
an inward struggle, the first of its kind which I had experi- 
enced in my life. Since his conversations were at all times 
important, whether he asked, answered, or communicated his 
opinions in any other manner, he could not but advance me 
daily, nay, hourly, to new views. At Leipzig I had accus- 
tomed mvself to a narrow and circumscribed existence, and 
my general knowledge of German literature could not be 
extended by my situation in Frankfort ; nay, those mystico- 
religio-chemical occupations had led me into obscure regions, 
and what had been passing for some years back in the wide 
literary world had, for the most part, remained unknown to 
me. Now I was at once made acquainted by Herder with 
all the new aspiration and all the tendencies which it seemed 
to be taking. He had already made himself sufficiently 
known ; and by his " Fragments," his u Kritische Walder ' 
( l ' Critical Woods ' ' ) , and other works , had immediately placed 
himself by the side of the most eminent men who had for a 
long time drawn towards them the eyes of their country. What 
an agitation there must have been in such a mind, what a fer- 
mentation there must have been in such a nature, can neither 
be conceived nor described. But great was certainly the 
concealed effort, as will be easily admitted when one reflects 
for how many years afterwards, and how much, he has done 
and produced. 

We had not lived together long in this manner when he 
confided to me that he meant to be a competitor for the prize 
which w r as offered at Berlin for the best treatise on the origin 
of language. His work was already nearly completed ; and, 
as he wrote a very neat hand, he could soon communicate to 
me, in parts, a legible manuscript. I had never reflected on 
such subjects, for I was } r et too deeply involved in the midst 
of things to have thought about their beginning and end. 
The question, too, seemed to me idle in some measure ; for, 
if God had created man as man, language was just as innate 
in him as walking erect : he must have just as well perceived 
that he could sing with his throat, and modify the tones 
in various ways with tongue, palate, and lips, as he must 
have remarked that he could walk, and take hold of things. 
If man was of divine origin, yo was also language ; and if 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 



11 



man, considered in the circle of nature, was a natural being, 
language was likewise natural. These two things, like soul 
and boc\y, I could never separate. Siissmilch, with a realism 
crude, yet somewhat fantastically devised, had declared him- 
self for the divine origin ; that is, that God had played the 
schoolmaster to the first men. Herder's treatise went to 
show that man as man could and must have attained to lan- 
guage by his own powers. I read the treatise with much 
pleasure, and it was of special aid in strengthening my mind ; 
but I did not stand high enough, either in knowledge or 
thought, to form a solid judgment upon it. I therefore gave 
the author my applause, adding only a few remarks which 
flowed from my way of viewing the subject. But one was 
received just like the other : there was scolding and blaming 
whether one agreed with him conditionally or unconditionally. 
The fat surgeon had less patience than I : he humorously 
declined the communication of this prize-essay, and affirmed 
that he was not prepared to meditate on such abstract topics. 
He urged us in preference to a game of ombre, which we 
commonly played together in the evening. 

During so troublesome and painful a cure, Herder lost 
nothing of his vivacity ; but it became less and less amiable. 
He could not write a note to ask for any thing that would 
not be spiced with some scoff or other. Once, for instance, 
he wrote to me thus : — 

" If those letters of Brutus thou hast in thy Cicero's letters, 
Thou, whom consolers of schools, decked out in magnificent bindings, 
Soothe from their well-planned shelves, — yet more by the outside 

than inside, — 
Thou, who from gods art descended, or Goths, or from origin filthy, 1 
Gothe, send them to me." 

It was not polite, indeed, that he should have permitted 
himself this jest on my name ; for a man's name is not like a 
mantle, which merely hangs about him, and which, perchance, 
may be safely twitched and pulled, but is a perfectly fitting 
garment, which has grown over and over him like his very 
skin, at which one cannot scratch and scrape without wound- 
ing the man himself. 

The first reproach, on the contrary, was better founded. 
I had brought with me to Strasburg the authors I had ob- 
tained, by exchange, from Langer, together with various fine 
editions from my father's collection besides, and had set them 

1 The German word is "Koth;" and the whole object of the line is, to Introduce a 
play on the words " Gothe," " Gotter," " Gothen," and " Koth." — Trans. 



18 TRUTH AND FICTION 

up on a neat book-case, with the best intentions of using them. 
But how should my time, which I split up into an hundred 
different activities, suffice for that? Herder, who was most 
attentive to books, since he had need of them every moment, 
perceived my fine collection at his first visit, but soon saw, 
too, that I made no use of them. He, therefore, as the 
greatest enemy to all semblance and ostentation, was accus- 
tomed, on occasion, to rally me upon the subject. 

Another sarcastic poem occurs to me, which he sent me 
one evening, when I had been telling him a great deal about 
the Dresden gallery. I had, indeed, not penetrated into the 
higher meaning of the Italian school ; but Dominico Feti, an 
excellent artist, although a humorist, and therefore not of 
the first rank, had interested me much. Scripture subjects 
had to be painted. He confined himself to the New-Testa- 
ment parables, and was fond of representing them with much 
originality, taste, and good humor. He brought them alto- 
gether into every-day life ; and the spirited and naive details 
of his compositions, recommended by a free pencil, had made 
a vivid impression upon me. At this, my childish enthusiasm 
for art, Herder sneered in the following fashion : — 

"From sympathy, 
The master I like best of all 
Dominico Feti they call. 
A parable from scripture he is able 
Neatly to turn into a crazy fable 
From sympathy: — thou crazy parable ! " 

I could mention many jokes of the kind, more or less clear 
or abstruse, cheerful or bitter. They did not vex me, but 
made me feel uncomfortable. Yet since I knew how to value 
highly every thing that contributed to my own cultivation, and 
as I had often given up former opinions and inclinations, I 
soon accommodated myself, and only sought, as far as it was 
possible for me from my point of view, to distinguish just 
blame from unjust invectives. And thus no day passed that 
had not been, in the most fruitful manner, instructive to me. 

I was made acquainted by him with poetry from quite a 
different side, in another light than heretofore, and one, too, 
which suited me well. The poetic art of the Hebrews, which 
he treated ingeniously after his predecessor Lowth, — popular 
poetry, the traditions of which in Alsace he urged us to 
search after ; and the oldest records existing as poetry, — all 
bore witness that poetry in general was a gift to the world 
and to nations, and not the private inheritance of a few re- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 19 

fined, cultivated men. I swallowed all this ; and the more 
eager I was in receiving, the more liberal was he in giving, 
so that we spent the most interesting hours together. The 
other natural studies which I had begun, I endeavored to 
continue ; and as one always has time enough, if one will apply 
it well, so amongst them all I succeeded in doing twice or thrice 
as much as usual. As to the fulness of those few weeks dur- 
ing which we lived together, I can well say, that all which 
Herder has gradually produced since was then announced in 
the germ, and that I thereby fell into the fortunate condition 
that I could completely attach to something higher, and expand 
all that I had hitherto thought, learned, and made my own. 
Had Herder been methodical, I should have found the most 
precious guide for giving a durable tendency to my cultiva- 
tion ; but he was more inclined to examine and stimulate 
than to lead and conduct. Thus he at first made me acquainted 
with Hamann's writings, upon which he set a very great value. 
But instead of instructing me as to these, and making the 
bias and drift of his extraordinary mind intelligible to me, it 
generally only served him for amusement when I behaved 
strangely enough in trying to get at the meaning of such sibyl- 
line leaves. However, I could well feel that something in 
Hamann's writings appealed to me ; and to this I gave myself 
up, without knowing whence it came or whither it was leading 
me. 

After the cure had lasted longer than, was reasonable, Lob- 
stein had begun to hesitate, and to repeat himself in his treat- 
ment, so that the affair would not come to an end ; and 
Peglow, too, had confided to me in private that a favorable 
issue was hardly to be expected ; the whole position became 
gloomy : Herder became impatient and out of temper ; he 
could not succeed in continuing his activity as heretofore, 
and was obliged to restrain himself the more, as they began 
to lay the blame of the surgical failure upon his too great 
mental exertion, and his uninterrupted, animated, nay, merry, 
intercourse with us. It is sufficient to say, that, after so much 
trouble and suffering, the artificial tear-channel would not 
form itself, and the communication intended would not take 
place. It was necessary to let the wound heal over lest the 
disease should become worse. If, now, during the operation, 
one could but admire Herder's firmness under such pains, his 
melancholy and even fierce resignation to the idea that he 
must bear such a blot about him all his life had about it some- 
thing truly sublime, by which he gained forever the reverence 



20 TRUTH AND FICTION 

of those who saw and loved him. This disease, which disfig- 
ured so expressive a countenance, must have been so much 
the more afflicting to him, as he had become acquainted with 
an excellent lady in Darmstadt, and had gained her affections. 
It may have been for this cause principally that he submitted 
to % the cure, in order, on his return, to appear more free, more 
cheerful, and more handsome in the eyes of his half -betrothed, 
and to unite himself more certainly and indissolubly with her. 
However, he hastened away from Strasburg as soon as possi- 
ble ; and, since his stay had hitherto been as expensive as it 
was unpleasant, I borrowed a sum of money for him, which , 
he promised to refund by an appointed day. The time passed 
without the arrival of the money. My creditor, indeed, did 
not dun me ; but I was for several weeks in embarrassment. 
At last the letter and money came, and even here he did not 
act unlike himself : for, instead of thanks or an apology, his 
letter contained nothing but satirical things in doggerel verse, 
whicU would have puzzled, if not alienated, another ; but it 
did not move me at all, for I had conceived so great and 
powerful an idea of his worth that it absorbed every thing 
of an opposite nature which could have injured it. 

One should never speak, publicly at least, of his own 
faults, or those of others, unless he hopes to attain some 
useful end thereby : on this account I will here insert cer- 
tain remarks which force themselves upon me. 

Gratitude and ingratitude belong to those events which 
appear every moment in the moral world, and about which 
men can never agree among themselves. I usually distinguish 
between non- thankfulness, ingratitude, and aversion from 
gratitude. The former is innate with men, nay, created with 
them ; for it arises from a happy volatile forgetf ulness of the 
repulsive as well as of the delightful, by which alone the con- 
tinuation of life is possible. Man needs such an infinite 
quantity of previous and concurrent assistances for a tolerable 
existence, that if he would always pay to the sun and the 
earth, to God and nature, to ancestors and parents, to friends 
and companions, the thanks due to them, he would have 
neither time nor feeling left to receive and enjoy new benefits. 
But, if the natural man suffers this volatility to get the control 
in and over him, a cold indifference gains more and more the 
ascendency, and one at last regards one's benefactor as a 
stranger, to whose injury, perhaps, any thing may be under- 
taken, provided it be advantageous to ourselves. This alone 
can properly be called ingratitude, which results from the 



RELATING. TO MY LIFE. 21 

rudeness into which the uncultivated nature must necessarily 
lose itself at last. Aversion from gratitude, however, the 
rewarding of a benefit by ill-natured and sullen conduct, is 
very rare, and occurs only in eminent men, such as, with great 
natural gifts, and a presentiment of them, being born in a 
lower rank of society or in a helpless condition, must, from 
their youth upwards, force themselves along step by step, and 
receive at every point aids and supports, which are often 
embittered and repulsive to them through the coarseness of 
their benefactors, since that which they receive is earthly, 
while that which, on the other hand, they give, is of a higher 
kind ; so that what is, strictly speaking, a compensation, is 
out of the question. Lessing, with the fine knowledge of 
earthly things which fell to his share in the best years of his 
life, has in one place bluntly but cheerfully expressed himself. 
Herder, on the contrary, constantly embittered his finest days, 
both for himself and others, because he knew not how to 
moderate, by strength of mind in later years, that ill humor 
which had necessarily seized him in youth. 

One may well make this demand of himself ; for to a man's 
capability of cultivation, comes, with friendly aid, the light of 
nature, which is always active in enlightening him about his 
condition : and generally, in many moral points of culture, 
one should not construe the failings too severely, nor look 
about after the most serious and remote means of correcting 
them ; for certain faults may be easily and even playfully 
removed. Thus, for instance, by mere habit, we can excite 
gratitude in ourselves, keep it alive, and even make it neces- 
sary to us. 

In a biographical attempt, it is proper to speak of one's self. 
I am, by nature, as little grateful as any man ; and, on forget- 
ting the benefit received, the violent feeling of a momentary 
disagreement could very easily beguile me into ingratitude. 

To obviate this, I accustomed myself, in the first place, 
with every thing that I possessed, to call to mind with pleasure 
how I came by it, from whom I received it, whether it was 
by way of present, exchange, or purchase, or in any other 
manner. I have accustomed myself, in showing my collec- 
tions, to mention the persons by whose means I obtained 
each article, nay, even to do justice to the occasion, to the 
accident, to the remotest cause and coincidence, by which 
things which are dear and of value to me have become mine. 
That which surrounds us thus receives a life ; we see in it a 
spiritual combination, full of love, reminding us of its origin ; 



22 TRUTH AND FICTION 

and, by thus making past circumstances present to us, our 
momentary existence is elevated and enriched ; the originat- 
ors of the gifts rise repeatedly before the imagination ; we 
connect with their image a pleasing remembrance ; ingrati- 
tude becomes impossible ; and a return, on occasion, be- 
comes easy and desirable. At the same time, we are led to 
the consideration of that which is not a possession palpable 
to the senses ; and we love to recapitulate to whom our 
higher endowments are to be ascribed, and whence they take 
their date. 

Before I turn my attention from my connection with Her- 
der, which was so important and so rich in consequences for 
me, I find yet something more to adduce. Nothing was more 
natural than that I should by degrees become more and more 
reserved towards Herder, in communicating those things 
which had hitherto contributed to my culture, but especially 
such as still seriously occupied my attention at the moment. 
He had destroyed my enjoyment of so much that I had loved 
before, and had especially blamed me in the strongest man- 
ner for the pleasure I took in " Ovid's Metamorphoses." I 
might defend my favorite as I would ; I might say, that, for 
a youthful fancy, nothing could be more delightful than to 
linger in those cheerful and glorious regions with gods and 
demi-gods, and to be a witness of their deeds and passions ; 
I might circumstantially quote that previously mentioned 
opinion of a sober-minded man, and corroborate it by my 
own experience, — all this, according to Herder, went for 
nothing ; there was no immediate truth, properly so called, 
to be found in these poems ; here was neither Greece nor 
Italy, neither a primitive world nor a cultivated one ; every 
thing was rather an imitation of what had already existed, 
and a mannerized representation, such as could be ex- 
pected only from an over-cultivated man. And if at last I 
would maintain, that whatever an eminent individual pro- 
duces is also nature, and that always, in all nations, ancient 
and modern, the poet alone has been the maker, this was not 
allowed to pass, and I had to endure much on this account, 
nay, I was almost disgusted with my Ovid by it ; for there 
is no affection, no habit so strong, that it can hold out in the 
long run against the animadversions of eminent men in 
whom one places confidence. Something always cleaves to 
us ; and, if one cannot love unconditionally, love is already 
in a critical condition. 

I most carefully concealed from him my interest in certain 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 23 

subjects which had rooted themselves within me, and were. 
by little and little, moulding themselves into poetic form- 
These were "Gotz von Berlichingen " and " Faust." The 
biography of the former had seized my inmost heart. The 
figure of a rough, well-meaning self -helper, in a wild anar- 
chical time, awakened my deepest sympathy. The signifi- 
cant puppet-show fable of the latter resounded and vibrated 
many- toned within me. I had also wandered about in all 
sorts of science, and had early enough been led to see its 
vanity. I had, moreover, tried all sorts of ways in real 
life, and had always returned more unsatisfied and troubled. 
Now, these things, as well as many others, I carried about 
with me, and delighted myself with them during my solitary 
hours, but without writing any thing down. But, most of 
all, I concealed from Herder my mystico-cabalistical chem- 
istry, and every thing relating to it ; although, at the same 
time, I was still very fond of secretly busying myself in 
working it out more consistently than it had been communi- 
cated to me. Of my poetical labors, I believe I laid before 
him " Die Mitschuldigen ; " but I do not recollect that on 
this account I received either correction or encouragement 
on his part. Yet, with all this, he remained what he was : 
whatever proceeded from him had an important, if hot a 
cheering, effect ; and even his handwriting exercised a magie 
power over me. I do not remember having ever torn up or 
thrown away one of his letters, or even a mere envelope 
from his hand ; yet, with my various changes of place and 
time, not one document of those strange, foreboding, and 
happy da} r s is left. 

That Herder's power of attraction had as much effect on 
others as on me, I should scarcely mention, had I not to re- 
mark that it extended itself particularly to Jung, commonly 
called Stilling. The true, honest striving of this man could 
not but deeply interest everybody who had any feeling, and 
his susceptibility must have charmed into candor every one 
who was in a condition to impart any thing. Even Herder 
behaved towards him with more forbearance than towards 
the rest of us, for his counter-action always seemed to stand 
in relation with the action exerted upon him. Jung's nar- 
rowness was accompanied by so much good will, his urgency 
with so much softness and earnestness, that a man of intelli- 
gence could certainly not be severe against him, and a benev- 
olent man could not scoff at him or turn him into ridicule. 
Jung was also exhilarated to such a degree by Herder, that 



24 TRUTH AND FICTION 

he felt himself strengthened and advanced in all he did : even 
his affection for me seemed to lose ground in the same ratio ; 
yet we always remained good companions, made allowances 
for each other from first to last, and mutually rendered the 
most friendly services. 

Let us now, however, withdraw from the sick-chamber of 
friendship, and from the general considerations which refer 
rather to disorder than to health of mind ; let us betake our- 
selves into the open air, to the lofty and broad gallery of 
the minster, as if the time were still present when we young 
fellows often appointed an evening meeting to greet the de- 
parting sun with brimming goblets. Here all conversation 
was lost in the contemplation of the country : here sharp- 
ness of eyesight was put to the proof, and every one strove 
to perceive, nay, plainly to distinguish, the most distant 
objects. Good telescopes were employed to assist us, and 
one friend after another exactly pointed out the spot which 
had become the most dear and precious to him ; nor did / 
lack such a little spot, which, although it did not come out 
with importance in the landscape, nevertheless more than all 
the rest attracted me with an amiable magic. On these oc- 
casions the imagination was excited by relating our adven- 
tures ; and several little jaunts were concerted, nay, often 
undertaken on the spur of the moment, of which I will cir- 
cumstantially relate only one instead of a number, since in 
many respects it was of consequence to me. 

With two worthy friends and fellow-boarders, Engelbach 
and We} 7 land, both natives of Lower Alsace, I repaired on 
horseback to Zabern, where, in the fine weather, the friendly 
little place smiled pleasantly upon us. The sight of the 
bishop's castle awakened our admiration : the extent, height, 
and splendor of a new set of stables bore witness to the 
other comforts of the owner. The gorgeousness of the 
staircase surprised us ; the chambers and saloons we trod 
with reverence ; only the person of the cardinal, a little 
wreck of a man, whom we saw at table, made a contrast. 
The view of the garden is splendid ; and a canal, three- 
quarters of a league long, which leads straight up to the 
middle of the castle, gives a high idea of the taste and re- 
sources of the former possessors. We rambled up and down 
there, and enjoyed many parts of this altogether beautifully 
situated country, skirting the magnificent plain of Alsace, 
at the foot of the Vosges. 

After we had enjoyed ourselves at this clerical outpost of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 25 

a royal power, and had made ourselves comfortable in its re- 
gion, we arrived early next morning at a public work, which 
most nobly opens the entrance into a mighty kingdom. Illu- 
mined by the beams of the rising sun, the famous Zabern- 
stairs, a work of incredible labor, rose before us. A road, 
built serpentine- wise over the most fearful crags, and wide 
enough for three wagons abreast, leads up hill so gently, that 
the ascent is scarcely perceptible. The hardness and smooth- 
ness of the way, the flat-topped elevations on both sides for 
the foot-passengers, the stone channels to lead oft" the moun- 
tain-water, all are executed as neatly, as artistically and 
durably, so that they afford a satisfactory view. Thus one 
gradually arrives at Pfalzburg, a modern fortification. It is 
situated upon a moderate hill : the works are elegantly built 
on blackish rocks, and of the same kind of stone ; and the 
joinings, being pointed out with white mortar, show exactly 
the size of the square stones, and give a striking proof of 
neat workmanship. We found the place itself, as is proper 
for a fortress, regular, built of stone, and the church in good 
taste. When we wandered through the streets, — it was nine 
o'clock on Sunday morning, — we heard music : they were 
already waltzing in the tavern to their hearts' content ; and 
as the inhabitants did not suffer themselves to be disturbed 
in their pleasures by the great scarcity, nay, by the threat- 
ened famine ; so also our youthful cheerfulness was not at all 
troubled when the baker on the road refused us some bread, 
and directed us to the tavern, where perhaps we might procure 
provisions at the usual place. 

We now very gladly rode down the Zabern-stairs again to 
gaze at this architectural wonder a second time, and to enjoy 
once more the refreshing prospect over Alsace. We soon 
reached Buchsweiler, where friend Wejdand had prepared for 
us a good reception. To a fresh, youthful mind the condition 
of a small town is well suited : family connections are closer 
and more perceptible ; domestic life, which, with moderate 
activity, moves hither and thither between light official duties, 
town business, agriculture and gardening, invites us to a 
friendly participation ; sociableness is necessary ; and the 
stranger finds himself very pleasantly situated in the limited 
circles, if the disputes of the inhabitants, which in such places 
are more palpable, do not everywhere come in contact with 
him. This little town was the chief place of the county of 
Hanau-Lichtenberg, belonging to the Landgrave of Darm- 
stadt, under French sovereignty. A regency and board of 



2G TRUTH AND FICTION 

officers established here made the place an important centre 
of a very beautiful and desirable principality. We easily 
forgot the unequal streets and the irregular architecture of 
the place when we went out to look at the old castle and the 
gardens, which are excellently laid out on a hill. Numerous 
little pleasure-woods, a preserve for tame and wild pheasants, 
and the relics of many similar arrangements, showed how 
pleasant this little residence must formerly have been. 

Yet all these views were surpassed by the prospect which 
met the eye, when, from the neighboring Baschberg, one 
looked over the perfectly paradisiacal region. This height, 
wholly heaped together out of different kinds of shells, at- 
tracted my attention for the first time to such documents of 
antiquity : I had never before seen them together in so great 
a mass. Yet the curious eye soon turned itself exclusively 
to the landscape. You stand on the last landward 1 mountain- 
point ; towards the north lies a fruitful plain, interspersed with 
little forests, and bounded by a stern row of mountains, that 
stretches itself westward towards Zabere, where the episcopal 
palace and the Abbey of St. John, lying a league beyond it, 
may be plainly recognized. Thence the eye follows the more 
and more vanishing chain of the Vosges towards the south. 
If you turn to the north-east, you see the castle of Lichten- 
berg upon a rock ; and towards the south-east the eye has the 
boundless plain of Alsace to scrutinize, which, afar off, with- 
draws itself from the sight in the more and more misty land- 
scape, until at last the Suabian mountains melt away like 
shadows into the horizon. 

Already, in my limited wanderings through the world, I 
had remarked how important it is in travelling to ascertain 
the course of the waters, and even to ask with respect to the 
smallest brook, whither in reality it runs. One thus acquires 
a general survey of every stream-region in which one happens 
to be, a conception of the heights and depths which bear rela- 
tion to each other, and by these leading lines, which assist the 
contemplation as well as the memory, extricates one's self in 
the surest manner from the geological and political labyrinth. 
With these observations, I took a solemn farewell of my be- 
loved Alsace, as the next morning we meant to turn our steps 
towards Lorraine. 

The evening passed away in familiar conversation, in which 
we tried to cheer ourselves up under a joyless present by re- 

1 That is, towards Germany. Germany is the land by pre-eminence. — American 

Note. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 27 

mcmbranccs of a better past. Here, as in the whole of this 
small country, the name of the last Count Reinhard von Hanau 
was blessed above all others : his great understanding and ap- 
titude had appeared in all his actions, and many a beautiful 
memorial of his existence yet remained. Such men have the 
advantage of being double benefactors : once to the present, 
which they make happy, and then to the future, the feeling 
of which and courage they nourish and sustain. 

Now as we turned north-westward into the mountains, 
passed by Liitzelstein, an old mountain tower, in a very 
hilly country,- and descended into the region of the Saar and 
the Moselle, the heavens began to lower, as if they would 
render yet more sensible to us the condition of the more rug- 
ged western country. The valley of the Saar, where we first 
reached Bockenheim, a small place, and saw opposite to it 
Neusaarwerden, which is well built, with a pleasure-castle, is 
bordered on both sides by mountains which might be called 
melancholy, if at their foot an endless succession of meadows 
and fields, called the Huhnau, did not extend as far as 
Saaralbe, and beyond it, farther than the eye can reach. 
Great buildings, belonging to the former stables of the Duke 
of Lorraine, here attract the eye : they are at present used as 
a dairy, for which purpose, indeed, they are very well situated. 
We passed through Saargemund to Saarbruck, and this little 
residence was a bright point in a land so rocky and wood} 7 . 
The town, small and hilly, but well adorned by the last prince, 
makes at once a pleasing impression, as the houses are all 
painted a grayish white, and the different elevation of them 
affords a variegated view. In the middle of a beautiful square, 
surrounded with handsome buildings, stands the Lutheran 
church, on a small scale, but in proportion with the whole. 
The front of the castle lies on the same level with the town ; 
the back, on the contrary, on the declivity of a steep rock. 
This has not only been worked out terrace-fashion, to afford 
easy access to the valley, but an oblong garden-plot has also 
been obtained below, by turning off the stream on one side, 
and cutting away the rock on the other, after which this whole 
space was lastly filled up with earth and planted. The time 
of this undertaking fell in the epoch when they used to con- 
sult the architects about laying out gardens, just as at 
present they call in the aid of the landscape-painter's eye. 
The whole arrangement of the castle, the costly and the 
agreeable, the rich and the ornamental, betokened a life-enjoy- 
ing owner, such as the deceased prince had been : the present 



28 TRUTH AM) FICTION 

sovereign was not at homo. President von Giinderode received 
us in the most obliging manner, and entertained us for three 
days better than we had a right to expect. I made use of the 
various acquaintance which we formed, to instruct myself in 
many respects. The life of the late prince, rich in pleasure, 
save material enough for conversation, as well as the vari- 
ous expedients which he hit upon to make use of the advan- 
tages supplied by the nature of his land. Here I was now 
properly initiated into the interest for mountain countries, 
and the love for those economical and technical investigations 
which have busied me a great part of my life was first awak- 
ened within me. We heard of the rich coal-pits at Dutweil, 
of the iron and alum works, and even of a burning mountain ; 
and we prepared ourselves to see these wonders close. 

We now rode through woody mountains, which must seem 
wild and dreary to him who comes out of a magnificent, fertile 
land, and which can attract us only by the internal contents 
of its bosom. We were made acquainted with one simple 
and one complicated piece of machinery, within a short dis- 
tance of each other ; namely, a scythe-smithy and a wire- 
drawing factory. If one is pleased at the first because it 
supplies the place of common hands, one cannot sufficiently 
admire the other ; for it works in a higher organic sense, from 
which understanding and consciousness are scarcely to be 
separated. In the alum- works we made accurate inquiries 
about the production and purifying of this so necessary mate- 
rial ; and when we saw great heaps of a white, greasy, loose, 
earthy matter, and asked the use of it, the laborers answered, 
smiling, that it was the scum thrown up in boiling the alum, 
and that Herr Stauf had it collected, as he hoped perchance 
to turn it to some profit. " Is Herr Stauf alive yet? " ex- 
claimed my companion in surprise. They answered in the 
affirmative, and assured us, that, according to the plan of our 
journey, we should not pass far from his lonely dwelling. 

Our road now led up along the channels by which the alum- 
water is conducted down, and the principal horizontal works 
(Stollen), which they call the fci Lanclgritbe^ 9 and from which 
the famous Dutweil coals are procured. These, when they are 
dry, have the blue color of darkly tarnished steel ; and the 
most beautiful succession of rainbow-tints plays over the sur- 
face with every movement. The deep abysses of the coal- 
levels, however, attracted us so much the less as their contents 
lay richly poured out around us. We now reached the open 
mine, in which the roasted alum-scales are steeped in ley ; and. 



68780 

RELATING TO MY LIFE. 29 

soon after, a strange occurrence surprised us, although we had 
been prepared. We entered into a chasm, and found ourselves 
in the region of the Burning Mountain. A strong smell of 
sulphur surrounded us ; one side of the cavity was almost red- 
hot, covered with reddish stone burnt white ; thick fumes 
arose from the crevices, and we felt the heat of the ground 
through our strong boot-soles. An event so accidental — for it 
is not known how this place became ignited — affords a great 
advantage for the manufacture of alum ; since the alum-scales, 
of which the surface of the mountain consists, lie there per- 
fectly roasted, and may be steeped in a short time and very 
well. The whole chasm has arisen by the calcined scales 
being gradually removed and used up. We clambered up out 
♦of this depth, and were on the top of the mountain. A pleas- 
ant beech-grove encircled the spot, which followed up to the 
chasm, and extended itself on both sides of it. Many trees 
were already dried up : some were withering near others, 
which, as yet quite fresh, felt no forebodings of that fierce 
heat which was approaching and threatening their roots also. 

Upon this space different openings were steaming, others 
had already done smoking ; and this fire had thus smouldered 
for ten years already through old broken-up pits and hori- 
zontal shafts, with which the mountain is undermined. It 
may, too, have penetrated to the clefts through new coal- 
beds : for, some hundred paces farther into the wood, they 
had contemplated following up manifest indications of an 
abundance of coal ; but they had not excavated far before a 
strong smoke burst out against the laborers, and dispersed 
them. The opening was filled up again, yet we found the 
place still smoking as we went on our way past it to the 
residence of our hermit-like chemist. This is situated amid 
mountains and woods ; the valleys there take very various 
and pleasing windings ; the soil round about is black and of 
the coal kind, and strata of it frequently come in sight. A 
coal philosopher — philosophies ver ignem, as they said for- 
merly — could scarcely have settled himself more suitably. 

We approached a small house, not inconvenient for a dwell- 
ing, and found Herr Stauf , who immediately recognized my 
friend, and received him with lamentations about the new gov- 
ernment. Indeed, we could see, from what he said, that the 
alum- works, as well as many other well-meant establishments 
on account of external and perhaps internal circumstances 
also, did not pay their expenses, with much else of the sort. 
He belonged to the chemists of that time, who, with a hearty 



30 TRUTH AND FICTION 

feeling for all that could be done with the products of na- 
ture, took delight in abstruse investigations of trifles and sec- 
ondary matters, and, with their insufficient knowledge, were 
not dexterous enough to do that from which properly econom- 
ical and mercantile profit is to be derived. Tims the use to 
which he hoped to turn that scum lay very far in the dis- 
tance : thus he had nothing to show but a cake of sal-ammo- 
niac, with which the Burning Mountain had supplied him. 

Ready and glad to communicate his complaints to some 
human ear, the lean, decrepit little man, with a shoe on one 
foot and a slipper on the other, and with stockings hanging 
down and repeatedly pulled up in vain, dragged himself up 
the mountain to where the resin-house stands, which he him- 
self had erected, and now, with great grief, sees falling to 
ruins. Here was found a connected row of furnaces, where 
coal was to be cleansed of sulphur, and made fit for use in 
iron-works ; but at the same time they wished also to turn 
the oil and resin to account, — nay, they would not even lose 
the soot : and thus all failed together, on account of the 
many ends in view. During the lifetime of the former prince, 
the business had been carried on in the spirit of an amateur, 
and in hope : now they asked for the immediate use, which 
was not to be shown. 

After we had left our adept to his solitude, we hastened — 
for it was now late — to the glass-house in Friedrichsthal, 
where we became acquainted, on our way, with one of the 
most important and most wonderful operations of human 
ingenuity. 

Nevertheless, some pleasant adventures, and a surprising 
firework at nightfall, not far from Neukirch, interested us 
young fellows almost more than these important experiences. 
For as a few nights before, on the banks of the Saar, shin- 
ing clouds of glow-worms hovered around us, betwixt rock 
and thicket ; so now the spark-spitting forges played their 
sprightly firework towards us. We passed, in the depth *of 
night, the smelting-houses situated in the bottom of the val- 
ley, and were delighted with the strange half -gloom of these 
dens of plank, which are but dimly lighted by a little open- 
ing in the glowing furnace. The noise of the water, and 
of the bellows driven by it ; the fearful whizzing and shriek- 
ing of the blast of air, which, raging into the smelted ore, 
stuns the hearing and confuses the senses, — drove us away, 
at last, to turn into Neukirch, which is built up against the 
mountain. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 31 

But, notwithstanding all the variety and fatigue of the 
day, I could find no rest here. I left my friend to a happy 
sleep, and sought the hunting-seat, which lay still farther 
up. It looks out far over mountain and wood, the outlines 
of which were only to be recognized against the clear night- 
sky, but the sides and depths of which were impenetrable to 
my sight. This well-preserved building stood as empty as 
it was lonely: no castellan, na huntsman, was to be found. 
I sat before the great glass doors upon the steps which run 
around the whole terrace. Here, surrounded by mountains, 
over a forest-grown, dark soil, which seemed yet darker in 
contrast with the clear horizon of a summer night, with the 
glowing, starry vault above me, I sat for a long time by 
myself on the deserted spot, and thought I never had felt 
such a solitude. How sweetly, then, was I surprised by the 
distant sound of a couple of French horns, which at once, 
like the fragrance of balsam, enlivened the peaceful atmos- 
phere. Then there awakened within me the image of a 
lovely being, which had retired into the background before 
the motley objects of these travelling-days, but which now 
unveiled itself more and more, and drove me from the spot 
back to my quarters, where I made preparations to set off 
as early as possible. 

The return was not used like the journey out. Thus we 
hurried through Zwey-brucken (Deux-Ponts) , which, as a 
beautiful and notable residence, might well have deserved 
our attention. We cast a glance at the great, simple castle, 
on the extensive esplanades, regularly planted with linden- 
trees, and very well adapted for the training of race-horses ; 
and on the large stables, and the citizens' houses which 
the prince had built to be raffled for. All this, as well as the 
costume and manners of the inhabitants, especially of the 
matrons and maids, had reference to a distant connection, 
and made plainly visible the relation with Paris, from which, 
for a long time, nothing transrhenane had been able to with- 
draw itself. We visited also the ducal wine-cellars, situ- 
ated before the city, which are extensive, and furnished with 
large, well-made tuns. We went on farther, and at last 
found the country like that in the neighborhood of Saar- 
bnick. Between wild and savage mountains are a few vil- 
lages : one here gets rid of the habit of looking about for 
corn. We mounted up, by the side of the Horn bach, to 
Bitsch, which lies on the important spot where the waters 
divide, and fall, a part into the Saar, a part into the Rhine. 



82 TRUTH AND FICTION 

The tatter were soon to draw us after them. Yet we could 
not refuse our attention to the little city of Bitsch, which 
very picturesquely winds around the mountain ; nor to the 
fortress, which lies above. This is partly built on rocks, 
and partly hewn out of them. The subterraneous chambers 
are particularly worthy of remark : here is not only space 
sufficient for the abode of a number of men and cattle, but 
one even lights upon large vaults for the drilling of troops, 
a mill, a chapel, and whatever else could be required under 
ground, provided the surface were in a state of disturbance. 

We now followed the rapidly descending brooks through 
the Barenthal. The thick forests on both the heights remain 
unused by the hand of man. Here trunks of trees lie on 
each other rotting by thousands, and young scions sprout 
up without number from their half -mouldered progenitors. 
Here, in conversation with some companions travelling on 
foot, the name Von Dieterich again struck our ears, which 
we had often heard honorably mentioned already in these 
woody regions. The activity and cleverness of this man, 
his wealth, and the use and applications of it, all seemed in 
proportion. He could with justice take delight in the acqui- 
sitions which he increased, and enjoy the profits he secured. 
The more I saw of the world, the more pleasure I took, not 
only in the universally famous names, but in those also, 
especially, which were mentioned in particular regions with 
reverence and love ; and thus I easily learned here, by a few 
questions, that Von Dieterich, earlier than others, had known 
how to make successful use of the mountain treasures, iron, 
coal, and wood, and had worked his way to an ever-growing 
opulence. 

Niederbrunn, where we now arrived, was a new proof of 
this. He had purchased this little place from the Count of 
Leiningen and other part-owners, to erect important iron- 
works in the place. 

Here in these baths, already founded by the Romans, floated 
around me the spirit of antiquity, venerable relics of which, in 
fragments of bas-relief s and inscriptions, capitals and shafts, 
shone out strangely towards me, from farmhouses, amidst 
household lumber and furniture. 

As we were ascending the adjacent Wasenburg also, I 
paid my respects to a well-preserved inscription, which dis- 
charged a thankful vow to Mercury, and is situated upon 
the great mass of rock which forms the base of the hill on 
one side. The fortress itself lies on the last mountain, looking 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 



33 



from Bitsch towards Germany. It is the ruin of a German 
castle built upon Roman remains. From the tower the whole 
of Alsace was once more surveyed, and the conspicuous 
minster- spire pointed out the situation of Strasburg. First 
of all, however, the great forest of Hagenau extended itself ; 
and the towers of this town peered plainly from behind. I 
was attracted thither. We rode through Reichshof, where 
Von Dieterich built an imposing castle : and after we had 
contemplated from the hills near Niedermoder the pleasing 
course of the little river Moder, by the forest of Hagenau, I 
left my friend on a ridiculous coal-mine visitation, which, at 
Dutweil, might have been a somewhat more serious business ; 
and I then rode through Hagenau, on the direct road — 
already indicated by my affection — to my beloved Sesenheim. 

For all these views of a wild mountain region, and then, 
again, of a cheerful, fruitful, joyous land, could not rivet 
my mind's eye, which was directed to an amiable, attractive 
object. This time, also, the way thither seemed to me more 
charming than its opposite, as it brought me again into the 
neighborhood of a lady to whom I was heartily devoted, 
and who deserved as much respect as love. But, before I 
lead my friends to her rural abode, let me be permitted to men- 
tion a circumstance which contributed very much to enliven 
and heighten my affection, and the satisfaction it afforded me. 

How far I must have been behindhand in modern literature, 
may be gathered from the mode of life which I led at Frank- 
fort, and from the studies to which I had devoted myself ; 
nor could my residence in Strasburg have furthered me in 
this respect. Now Herder came, and brought besides his 
great knowledge many other aids, and the later publications 
besides. Among these he announced to us fc 'The Vicar of 
Wakefield " as an excellent work, with the German translation 
of which he said he would make us acquainted by reading it 
aloud to us himself. • 

His method of reading was quite peculiar: whoever has 
heard him preach will be able to form a notion of it. He 
delivered every thing, this romance included, in a serious and 
simple style, perfectly removed from all dramatically imitative 
representation : he even avoided that variety which is not only 
permitted, but even required, in an epical delivery, — a slight 
change of tone when different persons speak, by which what 
every one says is brought into relief, and the actor is distin- 
guished from the narrator. Without being monotonous, 
Herder let every thing go on in the same tone, just as if 



I TRUTH AND FICTION 

nothing was present before him, but all was merely historical ; 
if the shadows of this poetic creation did not act livingly 
before him, but only glided gently by. Yet this manner of 
delivery from his mouth had an infinite charm ; for as he felt 
all most deeply, and knew how to estimate the variety of such 
a work, so the whole merit of a production appeared purely 
and the more clearly, as one was not disturbed by details 
sharply spoken out, nor interrupted in the feeling which the 
whole was meant to produce. 

A Protestant country clergyman is, perhaps, the most beau- 
tiful subject for a modern idyl : he appears, like Melchizedek, 
as priest and king in one person. To the most innocent 
situation which can be imagined on earth, to that of a hus- 
bandman, he is, for the most part, united by similarity of 
occupation, as well as by equality in family relationships : 
he is a father, a master of a family, an agriculturist, and 
thus perfectly a member of the community. On this pure, 
beautiful, earthly foundation, rests his higher calling ; to him 
is it given to guide men through life, to take care of their 
spiritual education, to bless them at all the leading epochs 
of their existence, to instruct, to strengthen, to console them,, 
and, if consolation is not sufficient for the present, to call up 
and guarantee the hope of a happier future. Imagine such a 
man, with pure human sentiments, strong enough not to de- 
viate from them under any circumstances, and by this already 
elevated above the multitude, of whom one cannot expect 
purity and firmness ; give him the learning necessary for his 
office, as well as a cheerful, equable activity, which is even 
passionate as it neglects no moment to do good, — and you 
will have him well endowed. But at the same time add the 
necessary limitation, so that he must not only pause in a 
small circle, but may also perchance pass over to a smaller ; 
grant him good nature, placability, resolution, and every 
thing else praiseworthy that springs from a decided character, 
and over all this a cheerful spirit of compliance, and a smil- 
ing toleration of his own failings and those of others, — then 
you will have put together pretty well the image of our excel- 
lent Wakefield. 

The delineation of this character on his course of life 
through joys and sorrows, the ever-increasing interest of the 
story, by the combination of the entirely natural with the 
strange and the singular, make this novel one of the best 
which lias ever been written ; besides this, it lias the great 
advantage that it is quite moral, nay, in a pure sense, Chris- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 35 

tian — represents the reward of a good will and perseverance 
in the right, strengthens an unconditional confidence in God, 
and attests the final triumph of good over evil, and all this 
without a trace of cant or pedantry. The author was pre- 
served from both by an elevation of mind that shows itself 
throughout in the form of irony, by which this little work 
must appear to us as wise as it is amiable. The author, 
Dr. Goldsmith, has without question great insight into the 
moral world, into its strength and its infirmities ; but at the 
same time he can thankfully acknowledge that he is an 
Englishman, and reckon highly the advantages which his 
country and his nation afford him. The family, with the de- 
lineation of which he occupies himself, stands upon one of 
the last steps of citizen comfort, and yet comes in contact 
with the highest ; its narrow circle, which becomes still 
more contracted, touches upon the great world through the 
natural and civil course of things ; this little skiff floats on 
the agitated waves of English life, and in weal or woe has to 
expect injury or help from the vast fleet sailing around it. 

I may suppose that my readers know this work, and have 
it in recollection ; whoever hears it named for the first time 
here, as well as he who is induced to read it again, will thank 
me. For the former, I would merely make the cursory remark, 
that the vicar's wife is of that good, busy sort, who allows 
herself and her own to want for nothing,«but who is also some- 
what vain of herself and her own. There are two daughters, — 
Olivia, handsome, and more devoted to the external ; and 
Sophia, charming and more given to the internal : nor will I 
omit to mention an industrious son, Moses, who is somewhat 
blunt, and emulous of his father. 

If Herder could be accused of any fault in his reading aloud, 
it was impatience ; he did not wait until the hearer had heard 
and comprehended a certain part of the progress, so as to be 
able to feel and think correctly about it : too hasty, he wanted 
to see effects at once ; and yet he was displeased even with 
this when it manifested itself. He blamed the excess of 
feeling which overflowed from me more and more at every 
step. I felt like a man, like a young man : every thing was 
living, true, and present before me. He, considering only 
the intrinsic contents and form, saw clearly, indeed, that I was 
overpowered by the subject-matter ; and this he would not 
allow. Then Peglow's reflections, which were not of the most 
refined, were still worse received ; but he was especially angry 
at our want of keenness in not seeing beforehand the contrasts 



36 TRUTH AND FICTION 

of which the author often makes use, and in suffering ourselves 
to be moved and carried away by them without remarking the 
oft-returning artifice. He would not pardon us for not seeing 
at once, or at least suspecting at the very beginning, where 
Burchell is on the point of discovering himself by massing over 
in his narration from the third to the first person, that he him- 
self is the lord of whom he is speaking ; and when, finally, we 
rejoiced like children at the discovery and the tv information 
of the poor, needy wanderer, into a rich, powerful lord, he 
immediately recalled the passage, which, according to the 
author's plan, we had overlooked, and read i*e a powerful 
lecture on our stupidity. It will be seen from tlvs, that he re- 
garded the work merely as a production of art, and required 
the same of us, who were yet wandering in that atate where it 
is very allowable to let works of art affect us like productions 
of nature. 

I was not at all perplexed by Herder's invectives ; for 
young people have the happiness or unhappiness, that, when 
once any thing has produced an effect on them, this effect 
must be wrought out within themselves, — from which much 
good, as well as much mischief, arises. The above work had 
left in me a great impression, for which I could not account ; 
but, properly speaking, I felt in harmony with that ironical 
tone of mind which elevates itself above every object, above 
fortune and misfortune, good and evil, death and life, and 
thus attains to the possession of a truly poetical world. I 
could not, indeed, become conscious of this until later : it 
was enough that it gave me much to do at the moment ; but 
I could by no means have expected to be so soon transposed 
from this fictitious world into a similar real one. 

My fellow-boarder, Weyland, who enlivened his quiet, 
laborious life by visiting from time to time his friends and 
relations in the countiy (for he was a native of Alsace) , did 
me many services on my little excursions, by introducing me 
to different localities and families, sometimes in person, 
sometimes by recommendations. He had often spoken to 
me about a countiy clergyman who lived near Drusenheim, 
six leagues from Strasburg, in possession of a good bene- 
fice, with an intelligent wife and a pair of amiable daughters. 
The hospitality and agreeableness of this family were always 
highly extolled. It scarcely needed so much to draw thither 
a young knight who had already accustomed himself to spend 
all his leisure days and hours on horseback and in the open 
air. We decided, therefore, upon this trip ; and my friend 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 37 

had to promise, that, on introducing me, he would say neither 
good nor ill of me, but would treat me with general indiffer- 
ence, and would allow me to make my appearance clad, if 
not meanly, yet somewhat poorly and negligently. He con- 
sented to this, and promised himself some sport from it. 

It is a pardonable whim in men of consequence, to place 
their exterior advantages in concealment now and then, so as 
to allow their own internal human nature to operate with the 
greater purity. For this reason the incognito of princes, and 
the adventures resulting therefrom, are always highly pleas- 
ing : these appear disguised divinities, who can reckon at 
double its value all the good offices shown to them as individ- 
uals, and are in such a position that they can either make 
light of the disagreeable or avoid it. That Jupiter should be 
well pleased in his incognito with Philemon and Baucis, and 
Henry the Fourth with his peasants after a hunting-party, is 
quite conformable to nature, and we like it well ; but that a 
young man, without importance or name, should take it into 
his head to derive some pleasure from an incognito, might be 
construed by many as an unpardonable piece of arrogance. 
Yet since the question here is not of such views and actions, 
so far as they are praiseworthy or blamable, but so far as 
they can manifest themselves and actually occur, we will on 
this occasion, for the sake of our own amusement, pardon 
the youngster his self-conceit ; and the more so, as I must 
here allege, that, from youth upwards, a love for disguising 
myself had been excited in me even by my stern father. 

This time, too, partly by some cast-off clothes of m} r own, 
partly by some borrowed garments and by the manner of 
combing my hair, I had, if not disfigured myself, yet at least 
rigged myself out so oddly, that my friend could not help 
laughing on the way, especially as I knew how to imitate 
perfectly the bearing and gestures of such figures when they 
sit on horseback, and which are called " Latin riders." The 
fine road, the most splendid weather, and the neighborhood 
of the Rhine, put us in the best humor. At Drusenheim we 
stopped a moment, he to make himself spruce, and I to re- 
hearse my part, out of which I was afraid I should now and 
then fall. The country here has the characteristics of all the 
open, level Alsace. We rode on a pleasant foot-path over 
the meadows, soon reached Sesenheim, left our horses at the 
tavern, and walked leisurely towards the parsonage. u Do 
not be put out," said Weyland, showing me the house from 
a distance, u because it looks like an old miserable farm- 

QoeOie— a Vol % 



38 TRUTH AND FICTION 

house : it is so much the younger inside. " We stepped into 
t lie court-yard: the whole pleased me well; for it had ex- 
actly that which is called picturesque, and which had so 
magically interested me in Dutch art. The effect which time 
produces on all human work was strongly perceptible. House, 
barn, and stable were just at that point of dilapidation where, 
indecisive and doubtful between preserving and rebuilding, 
one often neglects the one without being able to accomplish 

the other. 

As in the village, so in the court-yard, all was quiet and 
deserted. We found the father, a little man, wrapped up 
within himself, but friendly notwithstanding, quite alone, for 
the family were in the fields. He bade us welcome, and 
offered us some refreshment, which we declined. My friend 
hurried away to look after the ladies, and I remained alone 
with our host. " You are perhaps surprised," said he, " to 
find me so miserably quartered in a wealthy village, and with 
a lucrative benefice; but," he continued, "this proceeds 
from irresolution. Long since, it has been promised me by 
the parish, and even by those in higher places, that the house 
shall be rebuilt ; many plans have been already drawn, ex- 
amined, and altered, none of them altogether rejected, and 
none carried into execution. This has lasted so many years, 
that I scarcely know how to command my impatience." I 
made him an answer such as I thought likely to cherish his 
hopes, and to encourage him to pursue the affair more vigor- 
ously. Upon this he proceeded to describe familiarly the 
personages on whom such matters depended ; and, although 
he was no great delineator of character, I could nevertheless 
easily comprehend how the whole business must have been 
delayed. The confidential tone of the man was something 
peculiar : he talked to me as if he had known me for ten 
years, while there was nothing in his look from which I could 
have suspected that he was directing any attention to me. 
At last my friend came in with the mother. She seemed to 
look at me with quite different eyes. Her countenance was 
regular, and the expression of it intelligent : she must have 
been beautiful in her youth. Her figure was tall and spare, 
but not more so than became her years ; and, when seen from 
behind, she had yet quite a youthful and pleasing appearance. 
The elder daughter then came bouncing in briskly : she in- 
quired after Frederica, just as both the others had also done. 
The father assured them that he had not seen her since all 
three had gone out together. The daughter again went out 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. S9 

at the door to look for her sister ; the mother brought us 
some refreshment ; and Weyland, with the old couple, con- 
tinued the conversation, which referred to nothing but known 
persons and circumstances, — as, indeed, it is usually the case 
when acquaintances meet after some length of time, that they 
make inquiries, and mutually give each other information 
about the members of a large circle. I listened, and now 
learned how much I had to promise myself from this circle. 

The elder daughter again came hastily back into the room, 
uneasy at not having found her sister. They were anxious 
about her, and blamed her for this or that bad habit ; only 
the father said, very composedly, u Let her alone : she will 
come back \" At this instant she really entered the door, 
and then truly a most charming star arose in this rural 
heaven. Both daughters still wore nothing but German, as 
they used to call it ; and this almost obsolete national costume 
became Frederica particularly well. A short, white, full 
skirt, with a furbelow, not so long but that the neatest little 
feet were visible up to the ankle ; a tight white bodice and a 
black taffeta apron, — thus she stood on the boundary be- 
tween country girl and city girl. Slender and light, she 
tripped along as if she had nothing to carry ; and her neck 
seemed almost too delicate for the large fair braids on her 
elegant little head. From cheerful blue eyes she looked very 
plainly round, and her pretty turned-up nose peered as freely 
into the air as if there could be no care in the world ; her 
straw hat hung on her arm ; and thus, at the first glance, I 
had the delight of seeing her, and knowing her at once in all 
her grace and loveliness. 

I now began to act my part with moderation, half ashamed 
to play a joke on such good people, whom I had time enough 
to observe ; for the girls continued the previous conversation, 
and that with passion and some display of temper. All the 
neighbors and connections were again brought forward ; and 
there seemed, to my imagination, such a swarm of uncles and 
aunts, relations, cousins, comers, goers, gossips, and guests, 
that I thought myself lodged in the liveliest world possible. 
All the members of the family had exchanged some words 
with me, the mother looked at me every time she came in or 
went out, but Frederica first entered into conversation with 
me ; and, as I took up and glanced through some music that 
was lying around, she asked me if I played also. When I 
answered in the affirmative, she requested me to perform some- 
thing ; but the father would not allow this, for he maintained 



40 TRUTH AND FICTION 

that it was proper to serve the guest first with some piece oi 
music or a song. 

She played several things with some readiness, m the style 
which one usually hears in the country, and on a harpsichord, 
too, that the schoolmaster should have tuned long since, if 
he had only had time. She was now also to sing a song, a 
certain tender-melancholy affair ; but she did not succeed in 
it. She rose and said, smiling, or rather with that touch of 
serene joy which ever reposed on her countenance, tc If I 
sing badly, I cannot lay the blame on the harpsichord or the 
schoolmaster : but let us go out of doors ; then you shall 
hear my Alsatian and Swiss songs, — they sound much 

better.' ' 

During supper, a notion which had already struck me oc- 
cupied me to such a degree, that I became meditative and 
silent; although the liveliness of the elder sister, and the 
gracefulness of the younger, shook me often enough out of my 
contemplations. My astonishment at finding myself so ac- 
tually in the Wakefield family was beyond all expression. 
The father, indeed, could not be compared to that excellent 
man ; but where will you find his like? On the other hand, 
all the dignity which is peculiar to that husband here ap- 
peared in°the wife. One could not see her without at the 
same time reverencing and fearing her. In her were re- 
marked the fruits of a good education : her demeanor was 
quiet, easy, cheerful, and inviting. 

If the elder daughter had not the celebrated beauty of 
Olivia, yet she was well made, lively, and rather impetuous : 
she everywhere showed herself active, and lent a helping hand 
to her mother in all things. To put Frederica in the place of 
Primrose's Sophia was not difficult ; for little is said of the 
latter, it is only taken for granted that she is amiable : and 
this girl was amiable indeed. Now, as the same occupation 
and the same situation, wherever they may occur, produce 
similar, if not the same, effects ; so here too many things were 
talked about, many things happened, which had already taken 
place in the Wakefield family. But when at last a younger 
son, long announced and impatiently expected by the father, 
rushed into the room, and boldly sat himself down by us, 
taking but little notice of the guests, I could scarcely help 
exclaiming, " Moses, are you here too ! " 

The conversation carried on at table extended my insight 
into this country and family circle ; since the discourse was 
about various droll incidents which had happened now here, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 41 

now there. Frederica, who sat by me, thence took occasion 
to describe to me different localities which it was worth while 
to visit. As one little story always calls forth another, I w r as 
so much the better able to join in the conversation, and to 
relate similar incidents : and as, besides this, a good country 
wine was by no means spared, I stood in danger of slipping 
out of my character ; for which reason my more prudent friend 
took advantage of the beautiful moonlight, and proposed a 
walk, which was approved at once. He gave his arm to the 
eider, I to the younger ; and thus we went through the wide 
field, paying more attention to the heavens above us than to 
the earth, which lost itself in extension around us. There 
was, however, nothing of moonshine in Frederica's discourse : 
by the clearness with which she spoke she turned night into 
day, and there was nothing in it which would have indicated 
or excited any feeling, except that her expressions related 
more than hitherto to me, since she represented to me her own 
situation, as well as the neighborhood and her acquaintances, 
just as far as I should be acquainted with them ; for she 
hoped, she added, I would make no exception, and would 
visit them again, as all strangers had willingly done who had 
once stopped with them. 

It was very pleasant to me to listen silently to the descrip- 
tion which she gave of the little world in which she moved, 
and of the persons whom she particularly valued. She 
thereby imparted to me a clear, and, at the same time, such 
an amiable, idea of her situation, that it had a very strange 
effect on me ; for I felt at once a deep regret that I had not 
lived with her sooner, and at the same time a truly painful 
envious feeling towards all who had hitherto had the good 
fortune to surround her. I at once watched closely, as if I 
had a right to do so, all her descriptions of men, whether 
they appeared under the names of neighbors, cousins, or 
gossips, and my conjectures inclined now this way, now that ; 
but how could I have discovered any thing in my complete 
ignorance of all the circumstances? She at last became 
more and more talkative, and I more and more silent. It 
was so pleasant to listen to her ; and as I heard only her voice, 
while the form of her countenance, as well as the rest of the 
world, floated dimly in the twilight, it seemed to me as if I 
could see into her heart, which I could not but find very pure, 
since it unbosomed itself to me in such unembarrassed 
loquacity. 

When my companion retired with me into the guest-cham- 



42 TRUTH AND FICTION 

ber which had been prepared for us, he at once, with self- 
complacency, broke out into pleasant jesting, and took great 
credit to himself for having surprised me so much with the 
resemblance to the Primrose family. I chimed in with him 
by showing myself thankful. « Truly," cried he, " the story 
is quite complete. This family may very well be compared 
to that, and the gentleman in disguise here may assume the 
honor of passing for Mr. Burchell ; moreover, since scoundrels 
are not so necessary in common life as in novels, I will for 
this time undertake the role of the nephew, and behave myself 
better than he did." However, I immediately changed this 
conversation, pleasant as it might be to me, and asked him, 
before all things, on his conscience, if he had not really 
betrayed me. He answered "No!" and I could believe 
him. They had rather inquired, said he, after the merry 
table-companion who boarded at the same house with him in 
Strasburo-, and of whom they had been told all sorts of pre- 
posterous stuff. I now went to other questions : Had she 
ever been in love ? Was she now in love ? Was she engaged t 
He replied to all in the negative. "In truth," replied I, 
" such natural cheerfulness is inconceivable to me. Had she 
loved and lost, and again recovered herself, or had she been 
betrothed, —in both these cases I could account for it." 

Thus we chatted together far into the night, and I was 
awake again at the dawn. My desire to see her once more 
seemed unconquerable ; but, while I dressed myself, I was 
horrified at the accursed wardrobe I had so wantonly selected. 
The further I advanced in putting on my clothes, the meaner 
I seemed in my own eyes ; for every thing had been calculated 
for just this effect. My hair I might perchance have set to 
rights ; but when at last I forced myself into the borrowed, 
worn-out gray coat, and the short sleeves gave me the most 
absurd appearance, I fell the more decidedly into despair, as 
I could see myself only piecemeal in a little looking-glass, 
since one part always looked more ridiculous than the other. 
During this toilet my friend awoke, and with the satisfac- 
tion of a good conscience, and in the feeling of pleasurable 
hope for the day, looked out at me from the quilted silk 
coverlet. I had for a long time envied him for his fine 
clothes, as they hung over the chair ; and, had he been of my 
size, I would have carried them off before his eyes, changed 
my dress outside, and, hurrying into the garden, left my cursed 
husk for him : he would have had good-humor enough to put 
himself into my clothes, and the tale would have found a 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 43 

merry ending early in the morning. But that was not now 
to be thought of, — no more was any other feasible accommo- 
dation. To appear again before Frederica in the figure in 
which my friend could give me out as a laborious and accom- 
plished but poor student of theology, — before Frederica, 
who the evening before had spoken so friendly to my disguised 
self, — that was altogether impossible. There I stood, vexed 
and thoughtful, and summoned all my power of invention ; 
but it deserted me ! But now when he, comfortably stretched 
out, after fixing his eyes upon me for a while, all at once 
burst out into a loud laugh, and exclaimed, u No ! it is true, 
you do look most cursedly ! " I replied impetuously, " And 
I know what I will do. Good-by, and make my excuses !" — 
u Are you mad? " cried he, springing out of bed, and trying 
to detain me. But I was already out of the door, down the 
stairs, out of the house and yard, off to the tavern : in an 
instant my horse was saddled ; and I hurried away in mad 
vexation, galloping towards Drusenheim, then through that 
place, and still farther on. 

Now, thinking myself in safety, I rode more slowly, and 
now first felt how infinitely against my will I was going away. 
But I resigned myself to my fate, made present to my mind 
the promenade of yesterday evening with the greatest calm- 
ness, and cherished the secret hope of seeing her soon again. 
But this quiet feeling soon changed again to impatience ; and 
I now determined to ride rapidly into the city, change my 
dress, take a good, fresh horse, since then, as my passion 
made me believe, I could at all events return before dinner, 
or, as was more probable, for dessert, or towards evening, 
and beg my forgiveness. 

I was just about to put spurs to my horse to execute this 
plan, when another, and, as seemed to me, very happy thought, 
passed through my mind. In the tavern at Drusenheim, the 
day before, I had noticed a son of the landlord very nicely 
dressed, who, early this morning, being busied abcuthis rural 
arrangements, had saluted me from his court-yard. He was 
of my figure, and had for the moment reminded me of myself. 
No sooner thought than done ! My horse was hardly turned 
round, when I found myself in Drusenheim : I brought him 
into the stable, and in a few words made the fellow my pro- 
posal, namely, that he should lend me his clothes, as I had 
something merry on foot at Sesenheim. I had no need to talk 
long : lie agreed to the proposition with Joy, and praised me 
for wishing to make some sport for the Mamsells; they were, 



44 TRUTH AND FICTION 

he said, such capital people, especially Mamselle Reikchen; 1 
.and the parents, too, liked to see every thing go on merrily 
and pleasantly. He looked at me attentively ; and as from 
my appearance he might have taken me for a poor starveling, 
he said, "• If you wish to insinuate yourself, this is the right 
way. " In the mean while we had already proceeded far in our 
toilet : and, properly speaking, he should not have trusted 
me with his holiday clothes on the strength of mine ; but he 
was honest-hearted, and, moreover, had my horse in his stable. 
I soon stood there smart enough, gave myself a consequential 
air, and my friend seemed to regard his counterpart with 
complacency. " Topp, 2 Mr. Brother!" said he, giving me 
his hand, which I grasped heartily: " don't come too near 
my girl ; she might make a mistake !" 

My hair, which had now its full growth again, I could part 
at the top, much like his : and, as I looked at him repeat- 
edly, I found it comical moderately to imitate his thicker 
eyebrows with a burnt cork, and bring mine nearer together 
in the middle ; so that, with my enigmatical intentions, I 
might make myself an external riddle likewise. " Now, 
have you not," said I, as he handed me his beribboned hat, 
" something or other to be done at the parsonage, that I 
might announce nryself there in a natural manner ?" — 
"Very well," replied he; " but then, you must wait two 
hours yet. There is a woman confined at our house : I will 
offer to take the cake to the parson's wife, 3 and you may 
cany it over. Pride must pay its penalty, and so must a 
joke." I resolved to wait ; but these two hours were infi- 
nitely long, and I was dying with impatience when the third 
hour passed before the cake came out of the oven. At last I 
got it quite hot, and hastened away with my credentials in the 
most beautiful sunshine, accompanied for a distance by my 
counterpart, who promised to come after me in the evening 
and bring me my clothes. This, however, I briskly declined, 
and stipulated that I should deliver up to him his own. 

I had not skipped far with my present, which I carried in 
a neat tied-up napkin, when, in the distance, I saw my friend 
coming towards me with the two ladies. My heart was un- 
easy, which was certainly unsuitable underneath this jacket. 
I stood still, took breath, and tried to consider how I should 

1 Abbreviation for Frederica. —Trans. 

2 The exclamation used on striking a bargain. It is, we believe, employed by 
some trades in England. — Trans. 

• Tlie general custom of the country villages in Protestant Germany on such 
interesting occasions. — American Mote. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 45 

begin : and now only I noticed that the nature of the ground 
was very much in my favor ; for they were walking on the 
other side of the brook, which, together with the strips of 
meadow through which it ran, kept the two footpaths pretty 
far apart. When they were just opposite to me, Frederica, 
who had already perceived me long before, cried, " George, 
what are you bringing there ? " I was clever enough to cover 
my face with my hat, which I took off, while I held up the 
loaded napkin high in the air. u A christening-cake ! " cried 
she at that : 4 ' how is your sister ? * ' — u Well , ' ' 1 said I ; for I 
tried to talk in a strange dialect, if not exactly in the Alsa- 
tian. " Carry it to the house/ ' said the elder, " and, if you 
do not find my mother, give it to the maid ; but wait for us, 
we shall soon be back, — do you hear?" I hastened along 
my path in the joyous feeling of the best hope, that, as 
the beginning was so lucky, all would go off well ; and I had 
soon reached the parsonage. I found nobody, either in the 
house or in the kitchen ; I did not wish to disturb the old 
gentleman, whom I might suppose busy in the study ; I 
therefore sat down on the bench before the door, with the 
cake beside me, and pressed my hat upon my face. 

I cannot easily recall a more pleasant sensation. To sit 
again on this threshold, across which, a short time before, I 
had blundered out in despair ; to have seen her already again ; 
to have already heard again her dear voice, so soon after my 
chagrin had pictured to me a long separation ; every moment 
to be expecting herself and a discovery, at which my heart 
throbbed, and yet, in this ambiguous case, a discovery with- 
out shame ; for at the very beginning it was a merrier prank 
than any of those they had laughed at so much yesterday. 
Love and necessity are the best masters : they both acted 
together here, and their pupil was not unworthy of them. 

But the maid came stepping out of the barn. " Now, did 
the cakes turn out well?" cried she to me: " how is } r our 
sister?" — u All right," said I, and pointed to the cake 
without looking up. She took up the napkin, and muttered, 
" Now, what's the matter with you to-day again? Has Barb- 
chen 2 been looking again at somebody else? Don't let us 
suffer for that ! You will make a happy couple if you carry 
on so ! " As she spoke pretty loud, the pastor came to the 
window, and asked what was the matter. She showed him 
to me : I stood up, and turned myself towards him, but still 

1 In the original his answer is " Guet," for ** Gut." — Trans. 
8 Diminutive of Barbara. — Trans. 



40 TRUTH AND FICTION 

kepi the hat over my face. When he had said something 
kind and bid me to stay, I went towards the garden, and was 
just going in, when the pastor's wife, who was entering the 
court-yard gate, called to me. As the sun was shining right 
in my face, I once more availed myself of the advantage my 
hat afforded me, and greeted her by scraping a leg ; but she 
went into the house after she had bidden me not to go away 
without eating something. I now walked up and down in 
the garden : every thing had hitherto had the best success, 
yet I breathed hard when I reflected that the young peo- 
ple now would soon return. But the mother unexpectedly 
stepped up to me, and w r as just going to ask me a question, 
when she looked me in the face, so that I could not con- 
ceal myself any longer, and the w^ords stuck in her throat. 
"I am looking for George," said she, after a pause, " and 
whom do I find? Is it you, sir? How many forms have 
you, then? " — "In earnest only one," replied I : "in sport 
as many as you like." — "Which sport I will not spoil," 
smiled she : " go out behind the garden into the meadow 
until it strikes twelve, then come back ; and I shall already 
have contrived the joke." I did so; but when I was be- 
yond the hedges of the village gardens and was going along 
the meadows, towards me some country people came by the 
footpath, and put me in some embarrassment. I therefore 
turned aside into a little wood, which crowned an elevation 
quite near, in order to conceal myself there till the ap- 
pointed time. Yet what a strange feeling came over me 
when I entered it ; for there appeared before me a neat 
place, with benches, from every one of which was a pretty 
view of the country. Here was the village and the steeple, 
here Drusenheim, and behind it the woody islands of the 
Rhine : in the opposite direction was the Vosgian mountain 
range, and at last the minster of Strasburg. These differ- 
ent heaven-bright pictures were set in bushy frames, so that 
one could see nothing more joyous and pleasing. I sat down 
upon one of the benches, and noticed on the largest tree an 
oblong little board with the inscription, " Frederica's Re- 
pose. ' ' It never occurred to me that I might have come to dis- 
turb this repose ; for a budding passion has this beauty about 
it, that, as it is unconscious of its origin, neither can it have 
any thought of an end, nor, while it feels itself glad and cheer- 
ful, have any presentiment that it may also create mischief. 
I had scarcely had time to look about me, and was losing 
myself in sweet reveries, when I heard somebody coming : it 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 47 

was Frederica herself. u George, what are you doing here? " 
she cried from a distance. kt Not George !" cried I, run- 
ning towards her, u but one who craves your forgiveness a 
thousand times.' ' She looked at me with astonishment, but 
soon collected herself, and said, after fetching her breath 
more deeply, " You abominable man, how you frighten me ! " 
— " The first disguise has led me into the second ! " exclaimed 
I : " the former would have been unpardonable if I had only 
known in any degree to whom I was going ; but this one you 
will certainly forgive, for it is the shape of persons whom you 
treat so kindl)'." Her pale cheeks had colored up with the 
most beautiful rose-red. " Y r ou shall not be worse off than 
George, at any rate ! But let us sit down. I confess the 
fright has gone into my limbs.' ' I sat down beside her, ex- 
ceedingly agitated. "We know every thing already, up to 
this morning, from your friend," said she, tc now do you tell 
me the rest." I did not let her say that twice, but described 
to her my horror at my yesterday's figure, and my rushing 
out of the house, so comically, that she laughed heartily and 
graciously : then I went on to what followed, with all mod- 
esty, indeed, yet passionately enough, so that it might have 
passed for a declaration of love in historical form. At last 
I solemnized my pleasure at finding her again, by a kiss upon 
her hand, which she suffered to remain in mine. Whereas 
she had taken upon herself the expense of the conversation 
during our moonlight walk, of the night before, I now, on my 
part, richly repaid the debt. The pleasure of seeing her 
again, and being able to say to her every thing that I had yes- 
terday kept back, was so great, that, in my eloquence, I did 
not remark how meditative and silent she was. Once more 
she deeply drew breath, and I over and over again begged 
her forgiveness for the fright I had caused her. How long 
we may have sat I know not, but at once we heard some one 
call. It wtis her sister's voice. u That will be a pretty 
story," said the dear girl, restored to her perfect cheerfulness : 
"she is coming hither on my side," she added, bending so 
as half to conceal me ; u turn away, so that you may not be 
recognized at once." The sister entered the place, but not 
alone, — Weyland was witli her; and both, when they saw 
us, stood still, as if petrified. 

If we should all at once see a flame burst out violently 
from a quiet roof, or should meet a monster whose deformity 
was at the same time revolting and fearful, we should not 
be struck with such a fierce horror as that which seizes us 



48 TRUTH AND FICTION 

when, unexpectedly, we see with our own eyes what we have 
believed morally impossible. "What is this?" cried the 
elder, with the rapidity of one who is frightened; "what 
is this? you with George, hand-in-hand ! How am I to 
understand this? " — " Dear sister," replied Frederica, very 
doubtfully, " the poor fellow. He is begging something of 
me : he has something to beg of you too, but you must 
forgive him beforehand." — " I do not understand, I do not 
comprehend," said her sister, shaking her head, and looking 
at Weyland, who, in his quiet way, stood by in perfect tran- 
quillity, and contemplated the scene without any kind of 
expression. Frederica arose, and drew me after her. " No 
hesitating ! ' ' cried she : "let pardon be begged and grant- 
ed ! " — " Well, then," said I, stepping pretty near the elder, 
"I have need of pardon." She drew back, gave a loud 
shriek, and was covered with blushes : she then threw her- 
self down on the grass, laughed immoderately, and seemed 
as if she would never have done. Weyland smiled as if 
pleased, and cried, "You are a rare youth!" Then he 
shook my hand in his. He was not usually liberal with his 
caresses, but his shake of the hand had something hearty 
and enlivening about it : yet he was sparing of this also. 

After having somewhat recovered and collected ourselves, 
we set out on our return to the village. On the way I 
learned how this singular meeting had been occasioned. 
Frederica had at last parted from the promenaders to rest 
herself in her little nook for a moment before dinner ; and, 
when the other two came back to the house, the mother had 
sent them to call Frederica with as great haste as possible, 
because dinner was ready. 

The elder sister manifested the most extravagant delight ; 
and, when she learned that the mother had already discovered 
the secret, she exclaimed, " Now we have still to deceive 
my father, my brother, the servant-man, and the maid.' ; 
When we were at the garden-hedge, Frederica insisted upon 
going first into the house with my friend. The maid was 
busy in the kitchen-garden ; and Olivia (so let the elder sis- 
ter be named here) called out to her, " Stop ! I have some- 
thing to tell you!" She left me standing by the hedge, 
and went up to the maid. I saw that they were speaking 
very earnestly. Olivia represented to her that George had 
quarrelled with Barbara, and seemed desirous of marrying 
her. The lass was not displeased at this : I was now called, 
and was to confirm what had been said. The pretty, stout 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 49 

givl cast down her eyes, and remained so until I stood quite 
near before her. But when, all at once, she perceived the 
strange face, she, too, gave a loud scream, and ran away. 
Olivia bade me run after her and hold her fast, so that she 
should not get into the house and make a noise ; while she 
herself wished to go and see how it was with her father. 
On the way Olivia met the servant-boy, wiio was in love with 
the maid : I had in the mean time hurried after the maid , 
and held her fast. "Only think! what good luck! " cried 
Olivia: "it's all over with Barbara, and George marries 
Liese." — " That I have thought for a long while," said the 
good fellow, and remained standing in an ill humor. 

I had given the maid to understand that all we had to do 
was to deceive the father. We went up to the lad, who 
turned away and tried to withdraw : but Liese brought him 
back ; and he, too, when he was undeceived, made the most 
extraordinary gestures. We went together to the house. 
The table was covered, and the father was already in the 
room. Olivia, who kept me behind her, stepped to the 
threshold, and said, "Father, have you any objection to 
George dining with us to-day? but you must let him keep 
his hat on.'' — "With all my heart!" said the old man, 
"but why such an unusual thing? Has he hurt himself ?" 
She led me forward as I stood with my hat on. " No," 
said she, leading me into the room : " but he has a bird-cage 
under it ; and the birds might fly out and make a terrible 
fuss, for there are nothing but wild ones." The father was 
pleased with the joke, without precisely knowing what it 
meant. At this instant she took off nry hat, made a scrape, 
and required me to do the same. The old man looked at 
me and recognized me, but was not put out of his priestly 
self-possession. " Ay, ay, Mr. Candidate! " exclaimed he, 
raising a threatening finger at me ; fc fc you have changed sad- 
dles very quickly : and in the night I have lost an assist- 
ant, who yesterday promised me so faithfully that he would 
often mount my pulpit on week-days." He then laughed 
heartily, bade me welcome, and we sat down to table. 
Moses came in much later ; for, as the youngest spoiled 
child, he had accustomed himself not to hear the dinner-bell. 
Besides, he took very little notice of the company, scarcely 
even when he contradicted tltem. In order to be more sure 
of him, they had placed me, not between the sisters, but at 
the end of the table, where George often used to sit. As 
he came in at the door behind me, he slapped me smartly 



50 TRUTH AND FICTION 

on the shoulder, and said, u Good dinner to } r oiK George! " 
— u Many thanks, squire," replied I. The strange voice 
and the strange face startled him. " What say you? " cried 
Olivia : fc4 does he not look very like his brother? " — M Yes. 
from behind," replied Moses, who managed to recover his 
composure immediately, "like all folks." He did not look 
tit me again, and merely busied himself with zealously de- 
vouring the dishes, to make up for lost time. Then, too, he 
thought proper to rise on occasion and find something to do 
in the yard and the garden. At the dessert the real George 
came in, and made the whole scene still more lively. They 
began to banter him for his jealousy, and would not praise 
him for getting rid of a rival in me : but he was modest and 
clever enough, and, in a half -confused manner, mixed up 
himself, his sweetheart, his counterpart, and the Mamsells 
with each other, to such a degree, that at last nobody could 
tell about whom he was talking ; and they were but too glad 
to let him consume in peace a glass of wine and a bit of his 
own cake. 

After dinner there was some talk about going to walk ; 
which, however, did not suit me very well in my peasant's 
clothes. But the ladies, early on that day already, when 
they learned who had run awa}' in such a desperate hurry, 
had remembered that a fine hunting-coat (Pekesche) of a 
cousin of theirs, in which, when there, he used to go sport- 
ing, was hanging in the clothes-press. I, however, declined 
it, outwardly with all sorts of jokes, but inwardly with a 
feeling of vanity, not wishing, as the cousin, to disturb the 
good impression I had made as the peasant. The father 
had gone to take his afternoon-nap : the mother, as always, 
was busy about her housewifery. But my friend proposed 
that I should tell them some story, to which I immediately 
agreed. We went into a spacious arbor, and I gave them 
a tale which I have since written out under the title of * c The 
New Melusina." 1 It bears about the same relation to " The 
New Paris ' as the youth bears to the boy ; and I would 
insert it here, were I not afraid of injuring, by odd plays of 
fancy, the rural quality and simplicity which here agreeably 
surround us. In short, I succeeded in gaining the reward of 
the inventors and narrators of such productions ; namely, in 
awakening curiosity, in fixing the attention, in provoking 
over-hasty solutions of impenetrable riddles, in deceiving 
expectations, m confusing by the more wonderful which 

* ThU Is introduced in Wilhelm Meiiter'i Wanderjatare. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 51 

cairie into the place of the wonderful, in arousing sympathy 
and fear, in causing anxiety, in moving, and, at last, by the 
change of what was apparently earnest into an ingenious and 
cheerful jest, in satisfying the mind, and in leaving the 
imagination materials for new images, and the understand- 
ing materials for further reflection. 

Should any one hereafter read this tale in print, and doubt 
whether it could have produced such an effect, let him re- 
member, that, properly speaking, man is only called upon to 
act in the present. Writing is an abuse of language : read- 
ing silently to one's self is a sorry substitute for speech. Man 
effects all he can upon man by his personality, youth is most 
powerful upon }^outh, and hence also arise the purest influ- 
ences. It is these which enliven the world, and allow it 
neither morally nor physically to perish. I had inherited 
from my father a certain didactic loquacity ; from my mother 
the faculty of representing, clearly and forcibly, every thing 
that the imagination can produce or grasp, of giving a fresh- 
ness to known stories, of inventing and relating others, — 
nay, of inventing in the course of narration. By my paternal 
endowment I was for the most part annoying to the com- 
pany ; for who likes to listen to the opinions and sentiments 
of another, especially a youth, whose judgment, from defec- 
tive experience, always seems insufficient? My mother, on 
the contrary, had thoroughly qualified me for social conver- 
sation. The emptiest tale has in itself a high charm for 
the imagination, and the smallest quantity of solid matter is 
thankfully received by the understanding. 

By such recitals, which cost me nothing, I made myself be- 
loved by children, excited and delighted youth, and drew upon 
nvyself the attention of older persons. But in society, such as 
it commonly is, I was soon obliged to stop these exercises ; and 
I have thereby lost but too much of the enjoyment of life and 
of free mental advancement. Nevertheless, both these paren- 
tal gifts accompanied me throughout my whole life, united 
with a third ; namely, the necessity of expressing myself 
figuratively and by comparisons. In consideration of these 
peculiarities, which the acute and ingenious Dr. Gall dis- 
covered in me according to his theory, he assured me that 
I was, properly speaking, born for a popular orator. At this 
disclosure I was not a little alarmed ; for if it were well 
founded, whatever else I might have undertaken would have 
proved a failure, from the fact that among my nation there 
was nothing to harangue about. 



52 TRUTH AND FICTION 



PART THE THIRD. 

CARE IS TAKEN THAT TREES DO NOT GROW INTO THE SKY. 

ELEVENTH BOOK. 

After I had, in that bower of Sesenheim, finished my tale, 
in which the ordinary and the impossible so agreeably alter- 
nated, I perceived that my hearers, who had already shown 
peculiar sympatlry, were now enchanted in the highest degree 
by my singular narrative. They pressed me urgently to write 
down the tale, that they might often repeat it by reading it 
among themselves, and to others. I promised this the more 
willingly, as I thus hoped to gain a pretext for repeating my 
visit, and for an opportunity of forming a closer connection. 
The party separated for a moment ; and all were inclined to 
feel, that, after a day spent in so lively a manner, the evening- 
might fall rather flat. From this anxiety I was freed by my 
friend, who asked permission to take leave at once, in the 
name of us both, because, as an industrious academical 
citizen, regular in his studies, he wished to pass the night at 
Drusenheim, and to be early in the morning at Strasburg. 

We both reached our night-quarters in silence, — I, because 
I felt a grapple on my heart, which drew me back ; he, be- 
cause he had something else on his mind, which he told me 
as soon as we had arrived. u It is strange," he began, u that 
you should just hit upon this tale. Did not you remark that 
it made quite a peculiar impression ? " — "Nay," answered I, 
" how could I help observing that the elder one laughed more 
than was consistent at certain passages, that the younger 
one shook her head, that all of you looked significantly at 
each other, and that you yourself were nearly put out of 
countenance ? I do not deny that I almost felt embarrassed 
myself ; for it struck me that it was perhaps improper to tell 
the dear girls a parcel of stuff of which they had better been 
ignorant, and to give them such a bad opinion of the male sex 
as they must naturally have formed from the character of the 
hero." — " You have not hit it at all," said he ; " and, indeed, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 53 

how should you? These dear girls are not so unacquainted 
with such matters as you imagine, for the great society around 
•them gives occasion for many reflections ; and there happens 
to be, on the other side of the Rhine, exactly such a married 
pair as you describe, — allowing a little for fancy and exag- 
geration, — the husband just as tall, sturdy, and heavy ; the 
wife so pretty and dainty, that he could easily hold her in his 
hand. Their mutual position in other respects, their history 
altogether, so exactly accords with your tale, that the girls 
seriously asked me whether you knew the persons, and de- 
scribed them in jest. I assured them that you did not, and 
vou will do well to let the tale remain unwritten. With the 
assistance of delays and pretexts, we may soon find an excuse. ' ' 

I was much astonished, for I had thought of no couple on 
this or the other side of the Rhine ; nay, I could not have 
stated how T came by the notion. In thought I liked to sport 
with such pleasantries, without any particular reference ; and 
I believed, that, if I narrated them, it would be the same with 
others. 

When I returned to my occupations in the city, I felt them 
more than usually wearisome ; for a man born to activity 
forms plans too extensive for his capacity, and overburdens 
himself with labor. This goes on very well till some physi- 
cal or moral impediment comes in the way, and clearly shows 
the disproportion of the powers to the undertaking. 

I pursued jurisprudence with as much diligence as was 
required to take my degree with some credit. Medicine 
charmed me, because it showed nature, if it did riot unfold it 
on every side ; and to this I was attached by intercourse and 
habit. To society I was obliged to devote some time and 
attention ; for in many families I had fallen in for much, 
both of love and honor. All this might have been carried 
on, had not that which Herder had inculcated pressed upon 
me with an infinite weight. He had torn down the curtain 
which concealed from me the poverty of German literature ; 
he had ruthlessly destroyed so many of my prejudices ; in the 
sky of my fatherland there were few stars of importance left, 
when he had treated all the rest as go many transient candle- 
snuffs ; nay, my own hopes and fancies respecting myself he 
had so spoiled, that I began to doubt my own capabilities. 
At the same time, however, he dragged me on to the noble 
broad way which he himself was inclined to tread, drew my 
attention to his favorite authors, at the head of whom stood 
Swift and Hamann, and shook me up with more force than he 



54 TRUTH AND FICTION 

had bound mc down. To this manifold confusion was now 
added an incipient passion, which, while it threatened to 
absorb me, might indeed draw me from other relations, but 
could scarcely elevate me above them. Then came besides a 
bodily ailing, which made me feel after dinner as if my throat 
was closed up, and of which I did not easily get rid, till 
afterwards, when I abstained from a certain red wine, which 
I generally and very willingly drank in the boarding-house. 
This intolerable inconvenience had quitted me at Scsenheim, 
so that I felt double pleasure in being there ; but when I came 
back to my town-diet it returned, to my great annoyance. 
All this made me thoughtful and morose, and my outward 
appearance probably corresponded with my inward feelings. 

In a worse humor than ever, because the malady was violent 
after dinner, I attended the clinical lecture. The great care 
and cheerfulness with which our respected instructor led us 
from bed to bed ; the minute observation of important symp- 
toms ; the judgment of the cause of complaint in general ; the 
fine Hippocratic mode of proceeding, by which, without theory, 
and out of an individual experience, the forms of knowledge 
revealed themselves ; the addresses with which he usually 
crowned his lectures, — all this attracted me towards him, 
and made a strange department, into which I only looked as 
through a crevice, so much the more agreeable and fascinating. 
My disgust at the invalids gradually decreased, as I learned 
to change their various states into distinct conceptions, by 
which recovery and the restoration of the human form and 
nature appeared possible. He probably had his eye particularly 
upon me, as a singular young man, and pardoned the strange 
anomaly which took me to his lectures. On this occasion he 
did not conclude his lecture, as usual, with a doctrine which 
might have reference to an illness that had been observed, 
but said cheerfully, "Gentlemen, there are some holidays 
before us : make use of them to enliven your spirits. Studies 
must not only be pursued with seriousness and diligence, but 
also with cheerfulness and freedom of mind. Give movement 
to your bodies, and traverse the beautiful country on horse- 
back and on foot. He who is at home will take delight in 
that to which he has been accustomed ; while for the stranger 
there will be new impressions, and pleasant reminiscences in 
future." 

There were only two of us to whom this admonition could 
be directed. May the recipe have been as obvious to the 
other as it was to me ! I thought I heard a voice from heaven, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 65 

and made all the haste I could to order a horse and dress 
myself out neatly. I sent for Wcyland, but he was not to be 
found. This did not delay my resolution ; but the prepara- 
tions unfortunately went on slowly, and I could not depart so 
soon as I had hoped. Fast as I rode, I was overtaken by 
the night. The way was not to be mistaken, and the moon 
shed her light on my impassioned project. The night was 
windy and awful ; and I dashed on, that I might not have to 
wait till morning before I could see her. 

It was already late when I put up my horse at Sesenheim. 
The landlord, in answer to my question, whether there was 
still light in the parsonage, assured me that the ladies had 
only just gone home : he thought he had heard they were still 
expecting a stranger. This did not please me, as I wished to 
have been the only one. I hastened, that, late as I was, I 
might at least appear the first. I found the two sisters sit- 
ting at the door. They did not seem much astonished ; but I 
was, when Frederica whispered into Olivia's ear, loud enough 
for me to hear, ' ; Did I not say so ? Here he is ! ' ' They con- 
ducted me into a room, where I found a little collation set 
out. The mother greeted me as an old acquaintance : and 
the elder sister, when she saw me in the light, broke out into 
loud laughter ; for she had little command over herself. 

After this first and somewhat odd reception, the conversa- 
tion became at once free and cheerful ; and a circumstance, 
which had remained concealed from me this evening, I learned 
on the following day. Frederica had predicted that I should 
come ; and who does not feel some satisfaction at the fulfil- 
ment of a foreboding, even if it be a mournful one ? All pre- 
sentiments, when confirmed by the event, give man a higher 
opinion of himself, whether it be that he thinks himself in 
possession of so fine a susceptibility as to feel a relation in 
the distance, or acute enough to perceive necessary but still 
uncertain associations. Even Olivia's laugh remained no 
secret : she confessed that it seemed very comical to see me 
dressed and decked out on this occasion. Frederica, on the 
other hand, found it advantageous not to explain such a phe- 
nomenon as vanity, but rather to discover in it a wish to 
please her. 

Early in the morning Frederica asked me to take a walk. 
Her mother and sister were occupied in preparing every thing 
for the reception of several guests. By the side of this 
beloved girl I enjoyed the noble Sunday morning in the coun- 
try, as the inestimable Hebel has depicted it. She described 



56 TRUTH AND FICTION 

to me the party which was expected, and asked me to remain 
by her, that all the pleasure might, if possible, be common to 
ns both, and be enjoyed in a certain order. " Generally," 
she said, tc people amuse themselves alone. Sport and play 
is very lightly tasted ; so that at last nothing is left but cards 
for one part, and the excitement of dancing for the other." 

We therefore sketched our plan as to what should be done 
after dinner, taught each other some new social games, and 
were united and happy, when the bell summoned us to church, 
where, by her side, I found a somewhat dry sermon of her 
father's not too long. 

The presence of the beloved one always shortens time, but 
this hour passed amid peculiar reflections . I repeated to nry self 
the good qualities which she had just unfolded so freely before 
me, — her circumspect cheerfulness, her naivete combined with 
self-consciousness, her hilarity with foresight, — qualities 
which seem incompatible, but which nevertheless were found 
together in her, and gave a pleasing character to her outward 
appearance. But now I had to make more serious reflections 
upon myself, which were somewhat prejudicial to a free state 
of cheerfulness. 

Since that impassioned girl had cursed and sanctified my lips 
(for every consecration involves both) , I had, superstitiously 
enough, taken care not to kiss any girl, because I feared that 
I might injure her in some unheard-of spiritual manner. I 
therefore subdued every desire by which a youth feels impelled 
to win from a charming girl this favor, which says much or 
little. But even in the most decorous company a heavy trial 
awaited me. Those little games, as they are called, which 
are more or less ingenious, and by which a joyous }'oung circle 
is collected and combined, depend in a great measure upon 
forfeits, in the calling in of which kisses have no small value. 
I had resolved, once for all, not to kiss ; and, as every want or 
impediment stimulates us to an activity to which we should 
otherwise not feel inclined, I exerted all the talent and humor 
I possessed to help myself through, and thus to win rather 
than lose, before the company and for the company. When a 
verse was desired for the redemption of a forfeit, the demand 
was usually directed to me. Now, I was always prepared, 
and on such occasions contrived to bring out something in 
praise of the hostess, or of some lady who had conducted herself 
most agreeably towards me. If it happened that a kiss was 
imposed upon me at all events, I endeavored to escape by 
some turn, which was considered satisfactory : and, as 1 had 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 57 

time to reflect on the matter beforehand, I was never in want 
of various elegant excuses ; although those made on the spur 
of the moment were always most successful. 

When we reached home, the guests, who had arrived from 
several quarters, were buzzing merrily one with another, until 
Frederica collected them together, and invited and conducted 
them to a walk to that charming spot. There they found an 
abundant collation, and wished to fill up with social games 
the period before dinner. Here, by agreement with Frederica, 
though she did not know my secret, I contrived to get up and 
go through games without forfeits, and redemptions of forfeits 
without kissing. 

My skill and readiness were so much the more necessary, 
as the company, which was otherwise quite strange to me, 
seemed to have suspected some connection between me and 
the dear girl, and roguishly took the greatest pains to force 
upon me that which I secretly endeavored to avoid. For in 
such circles, if people perceive a growing inclination between 
two young persons, they try to make them confused, or to 
bring them closer together ; just as afterwards, when once a 
passion has been declared, they take trouble on purpose to 
part them again. Thus, to the man of society, it is totally 
indifferent whether he confers a benefit or an injury, provided 
he be amused. 

That morning I could observe, with more attention, the 
whole character of Frederica ; so that, for the whole time, she 
always remained to me the same. The friendly greetings of 
the peasants, which were especially addressed to her, gave 
me to understand that she was beneficent to them, and created 
in them an agreeable feeling. The elder sister remained at 
home with her mother. Nothing that demanded bodily exer- 
tion was required of Frederica ; but she was spared, they said, 
on account of her chest. 

There are women who especially please us in a room, others 
who look better in the open air. Frederica belonged to the 
latter. Her whole nature, her form, never appeared more 
charming than when she moved along an elevated footpath. 
The grace of her deportment seemed to vie with the flowery 
earth, and the indestructible cheerfulness of her countenance 
with the blue sky. This refreshing atmosphere which sur- 
rounded her she carried home ; and it might soon be per- 
ceived that she understood how to reconcile difficulties, and 
to obliterate with ease the impression made by little unpleas- 
ant contingencies. 



58 TRUTH AND FICTION 

The purest joy we can feel with respect to a beloved person 
is, to find that she pleases others. Frederica's conduct in 
society was beneficent to all. In walks, she floated about, an 
animating spirit, and knew how to supply the gaps which 
might arise here and there. The lightness of her movements 
we have already commended, and she was most graceful when 
she ran. As the deer seems just to fulfil its destination 
when it lightly flies over the sprouting corn ; so did her pecul- 
iar nature seem most plainly to express itself when she ran 
with light steps over mead and furrow, to fetch something 
which had been forgotten, to seek something which had been 
lost > to summon a distant couple, or to order something neces- 
sary. On these occasions she was never out of breath, and 
always kept her equilibrium. Hence the great anxiety of her 
parents with respect to her chest must to many have appeared 
excessive. 

Her father, who often accompanied us through meadows and 
fields, was not always provided with a suitable companion. 
On his account I joined him ; and he did not fail to touch once 
more upon his favorite theme, and circumstantially to tell me 
about the proposed building of the parsonage. He particu- 
larly regretted that he could not again get the carefully 
finished sketches, so as to meditate upon them, and to con- 
sider this or that improvement. I observed, that the loss 
might be easily supplied, and offered to prepare a ground- 
plan, upon which, after all, every thing chiefly depended. 
With this he was highly pleased, and settled that we should 
have the assistance of the schoolmaster, to stir up whom he 
at once hurried off, that the yard and foot-measure might be 
ready early on the morrow. 

When he had gone, Frederica said, "You are right to 
humor my dear father on his weak side, and not, like others, 
who get weary of this subject, to avoid him, or to break it off. 
I must, indeed, confess to you that the rest of us do not desire 
this building : it would be too expensive for the congregation 
and for us also. A new house, new furniture ! Our guests 
would not feel more comfortable with us, now they are once 
accustomed to the old building. Here we can treat them 
liberally : there we should find ourselves straitened in a wider 
sphere. Thus the matter stands ; but do not you fail to be 
agreeable. I thank you for it from my heart." 

Another lady who joined us asked about some novels, - — 
whether Frederica had read them. She answered in the neor- 
a ■! .ive, for she had read but little altogether- She had grown 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 59 

up in a cheerful, decorous enjoyment of life, and was culti- 
vated accordingly. I bad " The Vicar of Wakefield " on the 
tip of my tongue, but did not venture to propose it, the simi- 
larity of the situations being too striking and too important. 
ww I am very fond of reading novels," she said : " one finds in 
them such nice people, whom one would like to resemble.' ' 

The measurement of the house took place the following day. 
It was a somewhat slow proceeding, as I was as little accus- 
tomed to such arts as the schoolmaster. At last a tolerable 
project came to my aid. The good father told me his views, 
and was not displeased when I asked permission to prepare 
the plan more conveniently in the town. Frederica dismissed 
me with joy; she was convinced of my affection, and I of 
hers : and the six leagues no longer appeared a distance. It 
was so easy to travel to Drusenheim in the diligence, and by 
this vehicle, as well as by messengers, ordinary and extraor- 
dinary, to keep up a connection ; George being intrusted with 
the despatches. 

When I had arrived in the town, I occupied myself in the 
earliest hours (for there was no notion of a long sleep) with 
the plan, which I drew as neatly as possible. In the mean 
time I had sent Frederica some books, accompanied by a few 
kind words. I received an answer at once, and was charmed 
with her light, pretty, hearty hand. Contents and style were 
natural, good, amiable, as if they came from within ; and thus 
the pleasing impression she had made upon me was ever kept 
up and renewed. I but too readily recalled to myself the 
endowments of her beautiful nature, and nurtured the hope 
that I should see her soon, and for a longer time. 

There was now no more any need of an address from our 
good instructor. He had by those words, spoken at the right 
time, so completely cured me, that I had no particular inclina- 
tion to see him and his patients again. The correspondence 
with Frederica became more animated. She invited me to a 
festival, to which also some friends from the other side of the 
Rhine would come. I was to make arrangements for a longer 
time. This I did by packing a stout portmanteau upon the 
diligence, and in a few hours I was in her presence. I found 
a large, merry party, took the father aside, and handed him 
the plan, at which he testified great delight. I talked over 
with him what I had thought while completing it. He was 
quite beside himself with joy, and especially praised the neat- 
ness of the drawing. This I had practised from my youth 
upwards, and had on this occasion taken especial pains, with 



CO TRUTH AND FICTION 

the finest paper. But this pleasure was very soon marred 
for our good host, when, against my counsel, and in the joy 
of his heart, he laid the sketch before the company. Far from 
uttering the desired sympathy, some thought nothing at all of 
this precious work ; others, who thought they knew something 
of the matter, made it still worse, blaming the sketch as not 
artistical, and, when the old man looked off for a moment, 
handled the clean sheets as if they were only so many rough 
draughts ; while one, with the hard strokes of a lead-pencil, 
marked his plans of improvement on the fine paper in such 
a manner that a restoration of the primitive purity was not 
to be thought of. 

I was scarcely able to console the extremely irritated man, 
whose pleasures had been so outrageously destroyed, much as 
I assured him that I myself looked upon them only as sketches, 
which we would talk over, and on which we would construct 
new drawings. In spite of all this he went off in a very ill 
humor ; and Frederica thanked me for my attention to her 
father, as well as for my patience during the unmannerly 
conduct of the other guests. 

But I could feel no pain nor ill humor in her presence. 
The party consisted of young and tolerably noisy friends, 
whom, nevertheless, an old gentleman tried to outdo, propos- 
ing even odder stuff than they practised. Already, at break- 
fast, the wine had not been spared. At a very well-furnished 
dinner-table there was no want of any enjoyment ; and the 
feast was relished the more by everybody, after the violent 
bodily exercise during the somewhat warm weather : and if 
the official gentleman went a little too far in the good things, 
the young people were not left much behind him. 

I was happy beyond all bounds at the side of Frederica, — 
talkative, merry, ingenious, forward, and yet kept in modera- 
tion by feeling, esteem, and attachment. She, in a similar 
position, was open, cheerful, sympathizing, and communica- 
tive. We all appeared to live for the company, and yet lived 
only for each other t 

After the meal they sought the shade : social games were 
begun, and the turn came to forfeits. On redeeming the for- 
feits, every thing of every kind was carried to excess : the 
gestures which were commanded, the acts which were to be 
done, the problems which were to be solved, all showed a mad 
joy which knew no limits. I myself heightened these wild 
jokes by many a comical prank, and Frederica shone by many 
a droll thought ; she appeared to me more charming than ever, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 61 

all hypochondriacal superstitious fancies had vanished : and, 
when the opportunity offered of heartily kissing one whom I 
loved so tenderly, I did not miss it, still less did I deny myself 
a repetition of this pleasure. 

The company's hope of having some music was at last satis- 
fied : it was heard, and all hastened to the dance. Allemandes, 
waltzing and turning, were beginning, middle and end. All 
had given up to this national dance, — even I did honor enough 
to my private dancing-mistress ; and Frederica, who danced 
as she walked, sprang, and ran, was delighted to find in me a 
very expert partner. We generally kept together, but were 
soon obliged to leave off ; and she was advised on all sides not 
to go on any farther in this wild manner. We consoled our- 
selves by a solitary walk, hand in hand, and, when we had 
reached that quiet spot, by the warmest embrace, and the most 
faithful assurance that we loved each other heartily. 

Older persons, who had risen with us from the game, took 
us with them. At supper people did not return to their sober 
senses either. Dancing went on far into the night, and there 
was as little want of healths and other incitements to drink- 
ing as at noon. 

I had scarcely for a few hours slept very profoundly, when I 
was awakened by a heat and tumult in my blood. It is at such 
times and in such situations that care and repentance usually 
attack man, who is stretched out defenceless. My imagination 
at once presented to me the liveliest forms : I saw Lucinda, 
how, after the most ardent kiss, she passionately receded from 
me, and, with glowing cheek and sparkling eyes, uttered that 
curse, by which she intended to menace her sister only, but by 
which she also unconsciously menaced innocent persons, who 
were unknown to her. I saw Frederica standing opposite to 
her, paralyzed at the sight, pale, and feeling the consequences 
of the curse, of which she knew nothing. I found myself 
between them, as little able to ward off the spiritual effects of 
the adventure as to avoid the evil-boding kiss. The delicate 
health of Frederica seemed to hasten the threatened calamity ; 
and now her love to me wore a most unhappy aspect, and I 
wished myself at the other side of the world. 

But something still more painful to me, which lay in the 
background, I will not conceal. A certain conceit kept that 
superstition alive in me ; my lips, whether consecrated or 
cursed, appeared to me more important than usual ; and with 
no little complacency was I aware of my self-denying conduct, 
in renouncing many an innocent pleasure, partly to preserve 



62 TRUTH AND FICTION 

my magical advantage, partly to avoid injuring a harmless 
being by giving it up. 

But now all was lost and irrevocable : I had returned into 
a mere common position ; and I thought that I had harmed, 
irretrievably injured, the dearest of beings. Thus, far from 
my being freed from the curse, it was flung back from my 
lips into my own heart. 

All this together raged in my blood, already excited by love 
and passion, wine and dancing, confused my thoughts and tor- 
tured my feelings, so that, especially as contrasted with the 
joys of the day before, I was in a state of despair which 
seemed unbounded. Fortunately daylight peered in upon me 
tli rough a chink in the shutter ; and the sun, vanquishing all 
the powers of night, set me again upon my feet : I was soon 
in the open air, and refreshed, if not restored. 

Superstition, like many other fancies, very easily loses in 
power, when, instead of flattering our vanity, it stands in its 
way, and would fain produce an evil hour to this delicate being. 
We then see well enough that we can get rid of it when we 
choose : we renounce it the more easily, as all of which we 
deprive ourselves turns to our own advantage. The sight of 
Frederica, the feeling of her love, the cheerfulness of every 
thing around me, all reproved me, that, in the midst of the 
happiest days, I could harbor such dismal night-birds in my 
bosom. The confiding conduct of the dear girl, which became 
more and more intimate, made me thoroughly rejoiced ; and I 
felt truly happy when, at parting, she openly gave a kiss to 
me, as well as the other friends and relations. 

In the city many occupations and dissipations awaited me, 
from the midst of which I collected myself for the sake of my 
beloved, by means of a correspondence, which we regularly 
established. Even in her letters she always remained the 
same : whether she related any thing new, or alluded to well- 
known occurrences, lightly described or cursorily reflected, it 
was always as if, even with her pen, she appeared going, com- 
ing, running, bounding with a step as light as it was sure. I 
also liked very much to write to her, for the act of rendering 
present her good qualities increased my affection even during 
absence ; so that this intercourse was little inferior to a per- 
sonal one, — nay, afterwards became pleasanter and dearer 
to me. 

For that superstition had been forced to give way altogether. 
It was indeed based upon the impressions of earlier years ; but 
the spirit of the day ? the liveliness of youth, the intercourse 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 03 

with cold, sensible men, all was unfavorable to it, so that it 
would not have been easy to find among all who surrounded 
me a single person to whom a confession of my whims would 
not have been perfectly ridiculous. But the worst of it was, 
that the fancy, while it fled, left behind it a real contemplation 
of that state in which young people are placed, whose early 
affections can promise themselves no lasting result. So little 
was I assisted in getting free from error, that understanding 
and reflection used me still worse in this instance. My passion 
increased the more I learned to know the virtue of the excel- 
lent girl ; and the time approached when I was to lose, perhaps 
forever, so much that was dear and good. 

We had quietly and pleasantly passed a long time together, 
when friend Weyland had the waggery to bring with him to 
Sesenheim " The Vicar of Wakefield," and, when they were 
talking of reading aloud, to hand it over to me unexpectedly, 
as if nothing further was to be said. I managed to collect 
myself, and read with as much cheerfulness and freedom as I 
could. Even the faces of my hearers at once brightened, and 
it did not seem unpleasant to them to be again forced to a 
comparison. If they had found comical counterparts to Ray- 
mond and Melusina, they here saw themselves in a glass which 
by no means gave a distorted likeness. They did not openly 
confess, but they did not deny, that they were moving among 
persons akin, both by mind and feeling. 

All men of a good disposition feel, with increasing cultiva- 
tion, that they have a double part to play in the world, — a real 
one and an ideal one ; and in this feeling is the ground of every 
thing noble to be sought. The real part which has been as- 
signed to us we experience but too plainly ; with respect to the 
second, we seldom come to a clear understanding about it. 
Man may seek his higher destination on earth or in heaven, 
in the present or in the future : he yet remains on this account 
exposed to an eternal wavering, to an influence from without 
which ever disturbs him, until he once for all makes a resolu- 
tion to declare that that is right which is suitable to himself. 

Among the most venial attempts to acquire something 
higher, to place one's self on an equality with something 
higher, may be classed the youthful impulse to compare one's 
self with the characters in novels. This is highly innocent, 
and, whatever may be urged against it, the very reverse of 
mischievous. It amuses at times when we should necessarily 
die of. ennuis or grasp at the recreation of passion. 

How often is repeated the* litany about the mischief of 



M TRUTH AND FICTION 

novels ! and yet what misfortune is it if a pretty girl or a 
handsome young man put themselves in the place of a person 
who fares better or worse than themselves ? Is the citizen life 
worth so much? or do the necessities of the day so completely 
absorb the man, that he must refuse every beautiful demand 
which is made upon him? 

The historico-poetical Christian names which have intruded 
into the German church in the place of the sacred names, not 
unfrequently to the annoyance of the officiating clergyman, 
are without doubt to be regarded as small ramifications of the 
romantico-poetical pictures. This very impulse to honor one's 
child by a well-sounding name — even if the name has noth- 
ing further behind it — is praiseworthy ; and this connection 
of an imaginary world with the real one diffuses an agreeable 
lustre over the whole life of the person. A beautiful child, 
whom with satisfaction we call ''Bertha," we should think 
we offended if we were to call it " Urselblandine. ,, With a 
cultivated man, not to say a lover, such a name would cer- 
tainly falter on the lips. The cold world, which judges only 
from one side, is not to be blamed if it sets down as ridic- 
ulous and objectionable all that comes forward as imaginary ; 
but the thinking connoisseur of mankind must know how to 
estimate it according to its worth. 

For the position of the loving couple on the fair Rhine- 
bank, this comparison, to which a wag had compelled them, 
produced the most agreeable results. We do not meditate 
on ourselves when we look in a mirror ; but we feel that we 
exist, and allow ourselves to pass. Thus is it also with those 
moral imitations, in which we recognize our manners and in- 
clinations, our habits and peculiarities, as in a silhouette, and 
strive to grasp it and embrace it with brotherly affection. 

The habit of being together became more and more con- 
firmed, and nothing else was known but that I belonged to 
this circle. The affair was allowed to take its course without 
the question being directly asked as to what was to be the 
result. And what parents are there who do not find them- 
selves compelled to let daughters and sons continue for a 
while in such a wavering condition, until accidentally some- 
thing is confirmed for life, better than it could have been 
produced by a long-arranged plan. 

It was thought that perfect confidence could be placed, both 
in Frederica's sentiments and in my rectitude, of which, on 
account of my forbearance, even from innocent caresses, a 
favorable opinion had been entertained. We were left unob- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 65 

served, as was generally the custom, there and then ; and it 
depended on ourselves to go over the country, with a larger 
or smaller party, and to visit the friends in the neighborhood. 
On both sides of the Rhine, in Hagenau, Fort-Louis, Philipps- 
burg, the Ortenau, I found dispersed those persons whom I 
had seen united at Sesenheim, every one by himself, a friendly, 
hospitable host, throwing open kitchen and cellar just as will- 
ingly as gardens and vineyards, — nay, the whole spot. The 
islands on the Rhine were often a goal for our water-expedi- 
tions. There, without pity, we put the cool inhabitants of 
the clear Rhine into the kettle, on the spit, into the boiling 
fat, and would here, perhaps more than was reasonable, have 
settled ourselves in the snug fishermen's huts, if the abomina- 
ble Rhine-gnats {Rhein-sclindken) had not, after some hours, 
driven us away. At this intolerable interruption of one of 
our most charming parties of pleasure, when every thing else 
was prosperous, when the affection of the lovers seemed to 
increase with the good success of the enterprise, and we had 
nevertheless come home too soon, unsuitably and inoppor- 
tunely, I actually, in the presence of the good reverend father, 
broke out into blasphemous expressions, and assured him that 
these gnats alone were sufficient to take from me the thought 
that a good and wise Deity had created the world. The pious 
old gentleman, by way of reply, solemnly called me to order, 
and explained to me that these gnats and other vermin had 
not arisen until after the fall of our first parents, or that, 
if there were any of them in paradise, they had only pleas- 
antly hummed there, and had not stung. Although I felt 
calmed at once, — for an angry man may easily be appeased if 
we can succeed in making him smile, — I nevertheless asserted 
that there was no need of the angel with the burning sword 
to drive the guilty pair out of the garden : my host, I said, 
must rather allow me to think that this was effected by means 
of great gnats on the Tigris and the Euphrates. And thus I 
again made him laugh ; for the old man understood a joke, 
or at any rate let one pass. 

However, the enjoyment of the daytime and season in this 
noble country was more serious and more elevating to the 
heart. One had only to resign one' s self to the present, to enjoy 
the clearness of the pure sky, the brilliancy of the rich earth, 
the mild evenings, the warm nights, by the side of a beloved 
one, or in her vicinity. For months together we were favored 
with pure ethereal mornings, when the sky, having watered 
the earth with superfluous dew, displayed ail its magnificence ; 



66 TRUTH AND FICTION 

and, that this spectacle might not become too simple, clouds 
after clouds piled themselves over the distant mountains, 
now in this spot, now in that. They stood for days, nay, for 
weeks, without obscuring the pure sky ; and even the tran- 
sient storms refreshed the country, and gave lustre to the 
green, which again glistened in the sunshine before it could 
become dry. The double rainbow, the two-colored borders 
of a dark gray and nearly black streak in the sky, were nobler, 
more highly colored, more decided, but also more transient, 
than I had ever observed. 

In the midst of these objects^ the desire of poetizing, which 
I had not felt for a long time, again came forward. For 
Frederica I composed many songs to well-known melodies. 
They would have made a pretty little book : a few of them 
still remain, and will easily be found among my others. 

Since, on account of my strange studies and other circum- 
stances, I was often compelled to return to the town, there 
arose for our affection a new life, which preserved us from 
all that unpleasantness which usually attaches itself as an 
annoying consequence to such little love-affairs. Though far 
from me, she yet labored for me, and thought of some new 
amusement against I should return ; though far from her, I 
employed myself for her, that by some new gift or new notion I 
myself might be again new to her. Painted ribbons had then 
just come into fashion : I painted at once for her a few pieces, 
and sent them on with a little poem, as on this occasion I was 
forced to stop away longer than I had anticipated. That I 
might fulfil and even go beyond my promise of getting for her 
father a new and elaborated plan, I persuaded a }^oung adept 
in architecture to work instead of myself. IJe took as much 
pleasure in the task as he had kindness for me, and was still 
further animated by the hope of a good reception in so agree- 
able a family. He finished the ground-plan, sketch, and 
section of the house ; court-yard and garden were not for- 
gotten ; and a detailed but very moderate estimate was added, 
to show the possibility of carrying out an extensive project. 

These testimonials of our friendly endeavors obtained for 
us the kindest reception : and, since the good father saw that 
we had the best will to serve him, he came forward with one 
wish more ; it was the wish to see his prett} 7 but one-colored 
chair adorned with flowers and other ornaments. We showed 
ourselves accommodating. Colors, pencils, and other requi- 
sites were fetched from the tradesmen and apothecaries of 
the nearest towns. But, that we might not be wanting in a 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 67 

" Wakefield " mistake, we did not remark, until all had been 
most industriously and variously painted, that we had taken 
the wrong varnish, which would not dry : neither sunshine 
nor draught, neither fair nor wet weather, were of any avail. 
In the mean while we were obliged to make use of an old 
lumber-room, and nothing was left us but to rub out the 
ornaments with more assiduity than we had painted them. 
The unpleasantness of this work was still increased when the 
girls entreated us, for Heaven's sake, to proceed slowly and 
cautiously, for the sake of sparing the ground ; which, how- 
ever, after this operation, was not again to be restored to its 
former brilliancy. 

By such little disagreeable contingencies which happened 
at intervals, we were, however, just as little interrupted in 
our cheerful life as Dr. Primrose and his amiable family ; for 
many an unexpected pleasure befell both ourselves and our 
friends and neighbors. Weddings and christenings, the erec- 
tion of a building, an inheritance, a prize in the lottery, were 
reciprocally announced and enjoyed. We shared all joy 
together, like a common property, and wished to heighten it 
by mind and love. It was not the first nor the last time that 
I found myself in families and social circles at the very mo- 
ment of their highest bloom ; and, if I may flatter myself that 
I contributed something towards the lustre of such epochs, 
I must, on the other hand, be reproached with the fact, that 
on this very account such times passed the more quickly and 
vanished the sooner. 

But now our love was to undergo a singular trial. I will 
call it a trial (Prufung) , although this is not the right word. 
The country family with which I w r as intimate was related to 
some families in the city of good note and respectability, and 
comfortably off as to circumstances. The young towns- 
people were often at Sesenheim. The older persons, the 
mothers and aunts, being less movable, heard so much of 
the life there, of the increasing charms of the daughters, and 
even of my influence, that they first wished to become ac- 
quainted with me, and after I had often visited them, and 
had been well received by them, desired also to see us once 
altogether, especially as they thought they owed the Sesen- 
heim folks a friendly reception in return. 

There was much discussion on all sides. The mother 
could scarcely leave her household affairs ; Olivia had a hor- 
ror of the town, for which she was not fitted ; and Fred- 
erica had no inclination for it : and thus the affair was put 



68 TRUTH AND FICTION 

off, until it was at last brought to a decision by the fact, 
that it happened to be impossible for me to come into the 
country ; for it was better to see each other in the city, and 
under some restraint, than not to see each other at all. 
And thus I now found my fair friends, whom I had been 
only accustomed to see in a rural scene, and whose image 
had only appeared to me hitherto before a background of 
waving boughs, flowing brooks, nodding field-flowers, and a 
horizon open for miles, — I now saw them, I say, for the 
first time, in town-rooms, which were indeed spacious, but 
yet narrow, if we take into consideration the carpets, glasses, 
clocks, and porcelain figures. 

The relation of a lover to the beloved object is so decided, 
that the surrounding objects are of little significance : the 
heart, nevertheless, desires that these shall be the suitable, 
natural, and customary objects. With my lively feeling for 
every thing present, I could not at once adapt myself to the 
contradiction of the moment. The respectable and calmly 
noble demeanor of the mother was perfectly adapted to the 
circle : she was not different from the other ladies. Olivia, 
on the other hand, showed herself as impatient as a fish out 
of water. As she had formerly called to me in the gar- 
dens, or beckoned me aside in the fields, if she had any 
thing particular to say to me, she also did the same here, 
when she drew me into the recess of a window. This she 
did awkwardly and with embarrassment, because she felt 
that it was not becoming, and did it notwithstanding. She 
had the most unimportant things in the world to say to 
me, — nothing but what I knew already; for instance, that 
she wished herself by the Rhine, over the Rhine, or even 
in Turkey. Frederica, on the contrary, was highly remark- 
able in this situation. Properly speaking, she also did not 
suit it either ; but it bore witness to her character, that, 
instead of finding herself adapted to this condition, she 
unconsciously moulded the condition according to herself. 
She acted here as she had acted with the society in the coun- 
try. She knew how to animate every moment. Without 
creating any disturbance, she put all in motion, and exactly 
by this pacified society, which really is only disturbed by 
ennui. She thus completely fulfilled the desire of her town 
aunts, who wished for once, on their sofas, to be witnesses 
of those rural games and amusements. If this was done to 
satisfaction, so also were the wardrobe, the ornaments, and 
whatever besides distinguished the town nieces, who were 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 69 

dressed in the French fashion, considered and admired with- 
out envy. With me, also, Frederica had no difficulty ; since 
she treated me the same as ever. She seemed to give me 
no other preference than that of communicating her desires 
and wishes to me rather than to another, and thus recogniz- 
ing me as her servant. 

To this service she confidently laid claim on one of the 
following days, when she privately told me that the ladies 
wished to hear me read. The daughters of the house had 
spoken much on this subject, for at Sesenheim I had read 
what and when I was desired. I was ready at once, but 
craved quiet and attention for several hours. This was con- 
ceded ; and one evening I read through the whole of ' ' Ham- 
let " without interruption, entering into the sense of the piece 
as well as I was able, and expressing myself with liveli- 
ness and passion, as is possible in youth. I earned great 
applause. Frederica drew her breath deeply from time to 
time, and a transient red had passed over her cheeks. These 
two symptoms of a tender heart internally moved, while 
cheerfulness and calmness were externally apparent, were 
not unknown to me, and were indeed the only reward which 
I had striven to obtain. She joyfully collected the thanks 
of the party for having caused me to read, and in her grace- 
ful manner did not deny herself the little pride at having 
shone in me and through me. 

This town visit was not to have lasted long, but the de- 
parture was delayed. Frederica did her part for the social 
amusement, and I was not wanting : but the abundant 
sources which yield so much in the country now dried up in 
their turn ; and the situation was the most painful, as the 
elder sister gradually lost all self-control. The two sisters 
were the only persons in the society who dressed themselves 
in the German fashion. Frederica had never thought of 
herself in any other way, and believed herself so right 
everywhere, that she made no comparisons with any one 
else ; but Olivia found it quite insupportable to move about 
in a society of genteel appearance attired so like a maid- 
servant. In the country she scarcely remarked the town 
costume of others, and did not desire it ; but in the town 
she could not endure the country style. All this, together 
with the different lot of town ladies, and the thousand trifles 
of a series of circumstances totally opposed to her own 
notions, so worked for some da} T s in her impassioned bosom, 
that I was forced to apply all my flattering attention to ap- 

Goethe— 3 Vol 2 



70 TRUTH AND FICTION 

pease her, according to the wish of Frederica. I feared an 
impassioned scene. I looked forward to the moment when 
she would throw herself at my feet, and implore me by all 
that was sacred to rescue her from this situation. She was 
good to a heavenly degree if she could conduct herself in 
her own way ; but such a restraint at once made her uncom- 
fortable, and could at last drive her even to despair. I now 
sought to hasten that which was desired by the mother and 
Olivia, and not repugnant to Frederica. I did not refrain 
from praising her as a contrast to her sister : I told her 
what pleasure it gave me to find her unaltered, and, even 
under the present circumstances, just as free as the bird 
among the branches. She was courteous enough to reply 
that I was there, and that she wished to go neither in nor out 
when I was with her. 

At last I saw them take their departure, and it seemed as 
though a load had fallen from my heart ; for my own feel- 
ings had shared the condition of Frederica and Olivia : I 
was not passionately tormented like the latter, but I felt by 
no means as comfortable as the former. 

Since I had properly gone to Strasburg to take my degree, 
it may be rightly reckoned among the irregularities of my life, 
that I treated this material business as a mere collateral affair. 
All anxiety as to my examination I had put aside in a very 
easy fashion ; but I had now to think of the disputation, 1 for 
on my departure from Frankfort I had promised my father, 
and resolved within myself, to write one. It is the fault of 
those who can do many things, nay, much, that they trust 
every thing to themselves ; and youth must indeed be in this 
position, if any thing is to be made of it. A survey of the 
science of jurisprudence and all its framework I had pretty 
well acquired ; single subjects of law sufficiently interested 
me ; and, as I had the good Leyser for my model, I thought 
I should get tolerably through with my own little common 
sense. Great movements were showing themselves in juris- 
prudence ; judgments were to be more according to equity ; 
all rights by usage were daily seen to be compromised ; and, 
in the criminal department especially, a great change was 
impending. As for myself, I felt well enough that I lacked 
an infinite deal to fill up the legal commonplace which 
I had proposed. The proper knowledge was wanting, 
and no inner tendency urged me to such subjects. Neither 
was there any impulse from without, — nay, quite another 

1 A polemic dissertation written on taking a university degree. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 11 

faculty * had completely carried me away. In general, if I 
was to take any interest in a thing, it was necessary for me 
to gain something from it, to perceive in it something that 
appeared fertile to me, and gave me prospects. Thus I 
had once more noted down some materials, had afterwards 
made collections, had taken my books of extracts in hand, 
had considered the point which I wished to maintain, the 
scheme according to which I wished to arrange the single 
elements ; but I was sharp enough soon to perceive that I 
could not get on, and that, to treat a special matter, a special 
and long-pursuing industry was requisite, — nay, that such a 
special task cannot be successfully accomplished unless, upon 
the whole, one is at any rate an old hand, if not a master. 

The friends to wdiom I communicated my embarrassment 
thought me ridiculous, because one can dispute upon theses as 
well as, nay, even better than, upon a treatise ; and in Stras- 
burg this was not uncommon. I was by no means averse to 
such an expedient ; but my father, to whom I wrote on the 
subject, desired a regular work, which, as he thought, I 
could very well prepare, if I only chose so to do and allowed 
myself proper time. I was now compelled to take up some 
general topic, and to choose something which I should have 
at my fingers' ends. Ecclesiastical history was almost better 
known to me than the history of the world ; and that con- 
flict in which the Church — the publicly recognized worship 
of God — finds itself, and always will find itself, in two 
different directions, had always highly interested me. For 
now it is in an eternal conflict with the State, over which it 
will exalt itself ; now with the individuals, all of whom it will 
gather to itself. The State, on its side, will not yield the supe- 
rior authority to the Church ; and the individuals oppose its 
restraints. The State desires every thing for public, universal 
ends ; the individual for ends belonging to the home, heart, 
and feelings. From my childhood upwards 1 had been a 
witness of such movements, when the clergy now offended 
their authorities, now their congregations. I had therefore 
established the principle in my young mind, that the State — 
the legislator — had the right to determine a worship, accord- 
ing to which the clergy should teach and conduct themselves, 
and the laity, on the other hand, should direct themselves 
publicly and externally ; while there should be no question 
about any one's thoughts, feelings, or notions. Thus I 
thought I had at once got rid of all collisions. I therefore 

* Medicine — Trans. 



12 TRUTH AND FICTION 

chose for my disputation the first half of this theme , namely, 
that the legislator was not only authorized, but bound, to 
establish a certain worship, from which neither the clergy 
nor the laity might free themselves. I carried out this theme 
partly historically, partly argumentatively, showing that all 
public religions had been introduced by leaders of armies, 
kings, and powerful men ; that this had even been the case 
with Christianity. The example of Protestantism lay quite 
close at hand. I went to work at this task with so much 
the more boldness, as I really only wrote it to satisfy my 
father, and desired and hoped nothing more ardently than 
that it might not pass the censorship. I had imbibed from 
Behrisch an unconquerable dislike to see any thing of mine in 
print ; and my intercourse with Herder had discovered to me 
but too plainly my own insufficiency, — nay, a certain mistrust 
in myself had through this means been perfectly matured. As 
I drew this work almost entirely out of myself, and wrote and 
spoke Latin with fluency, the time which I expended on the 
treatise passed very agreeably. The matter had at least some 
foundation ; the style, naturally speaking, was not bad ; the 
w r hole was pretty well rounded off. As soon as I had finished 
it, I went through it with a good Latin scholar, who, although 
he could not, on the whole, improve my style, yet easily re- 
moved all striking defects ; so that something was produced 
that was fit to be shown. A fair copy was at once sent to my 
father, who disapproved of one thing, namely, that none of the 
subjects previously taken in hand had been worked out ; but 
nevertheless, as a thorough Protestant, he was well pleased 
with the boldness of the plan. My singularities were toler- 
ated, my exertions were praised, and he promised himself an 
important effect from the publication of the w T ork. 

X now handed over my papers to the faculty, who fortunately 
behaved in a manner as prudent as it was polite. The dean, 
a lively, clever man, began with many laudations of my work, 
then went on to w 7 hat was doubtful, which he contrived grad- 
ually to change into something dangerous, and concluded by 
saying that it might not be advisable to publish this work as 
an academical dissertation. The aspirant had shown himself 
to the faculty as a thinking young man, of whom they might 
hope the best : they would willingly, not to delay the affair, 
allow me to dispute on theses. I could afterwards publish 
my treatise, either in its present condition or more elaborated, 
in Latin, or in another language. This would everywhere be 
easy to me as a private man and a Protestant, and I should 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. V3 

have the pleasure of an applause more pure and more general. 
I scarcely concealed from the good man what a stone his dis- 
course rolled from my heart : at every new argument which 
he advanced, that he might not trouble me nor make me angry 
by his refusal, my mind grew more and more easy, and so did 
his own at last, when, quite unexpectedly, I offered no resist- 
ance to his reasons, but, on the contrary, found them extreme- 
ly obvious, and promised to conduct myself according to his 
counsel and guidance. I therefore sat down again with my 
repetent. Theses were chosen and printed : and the disputa- 
tion, with the opposition of my fellow-boarders, went off with 
great merriment, and even with facility ; for my old habit of 
turning over the Corpus Juris was very serviceable to me, 
and I could pass for a well-instructed man. A good feast, 
according to custom, concluded the solemnity. 

My father, however, was very dissatisfied that the little 
work had not been regularly printed as a disputation ; because 
he had hoped that I should gain honor by it on my entrance 
into Frankfort. He therefore wished to publish it specially ; 
but I represented to him that the subject, which was only 
sketched, could be more completely carried out at some future 
time. He put up the manuscript carefully for this purpose, 
and many years afterwards I saw it among his papers. 

I took my degree on the 6th August, 1771 ; and on the 
following day Schopflin died, in the 75th year of his age. Even 
without closer contact, he had had an important influence 
upon me ; for eminent contemporaries may be compared to 
the greater stars, towards which, so long as they merely stand 
above the horizon, our eye is turned, and feels strengthened 
and cultivated, if it is only allowed to take such perfections 
into itself. Bountiful nature had given Schopflin an advan- 
tageous exterior, a slender form, kindly eyes, a ready mouth, 
and a thoroughly agreeable presence. Neither had she been 
sparing in gifts of mind to her favorite ; and his good for- 
tune was the result of innate and carefully cultivated merits, 
without any troublesome exertion. He was one of those 
happy men who are inclined to unite the past and the 
present, and understand how to connect historical knowledge 
with the interests of life. Bom in the Baden territory, edu- 
cated at Basle and Strasburg, he quite properly belonged to 
the paradisiacal valley of the Rhine, as an extensive and well- 
situated fatherland. His mind being directed to historical 
and antiquarian objects, he readily seized upon them with a 
felicitous power of representation, and retained them by the 



74 TRUTH AND FICTION 

most convenient memory. Desirous as he was, of both learn- 
ing and teaching, he pursued a course of study and of life 
which equally advanced. He soon emerges, and rises above 
the rest, without any kind of interruption ; diffuses himself 
with ease through the literary and citizen world, for historical 
knowledge passes everywhere, and affability attaches itself 
everywhere. He travels through Germany, Holland, France, 
Italy ; he comes in contact with all the learned men of his 
time ; he amuses princes ; and it is only when, by his lively 
loquacity, the hours of the table or of audience are lengthened, 
that he is tedious to the people at court. On the other hand, 
he acquires the confidence of the statesmen, solves for them 
the most profound legal questions, and thus finds everywhere 
a field for his talent. In many places they attempt to retain 
him, but he remains faithful to Strasburg and the French 
court. His immovable German honesty is recognized even 
there : he is even protected against the powerful Praetor Kling- 
lin, who is secretly his enemy. Sociable and talkative by 
nature, he extends his intercourse with the world, as well as 
his knowledge and occupations ; and we should hardly be able 
to understand whence he got all his time, did we not know 
that a dislike to women accompanied him through his whole 
life, and that thus he gained many days and hours which are 
happily thrown away by those who are well disposed towards 
the ladies. 

For the rest, he belongs, as an author, to the ordinary sort 
of character, and, as an orator, to the multitude. His pro- 
gramme, his speeches, and addresses are devoted to the par- 
ticular day — to the approaching solemnity; nay, his great 
work, u Alsatia Illustrata," belongs to life, as he recalls the 
past, freshens up faded forms, re-animates the hewn and the 
formed stone, and brings obliterated broken inscriptions for a 
second time before the eyes and mind of his reader. In such 
a manner his activity fills all Alsatia and the neighboring 
country ; in Baden and the Palatinate he preserves to an 
extreme old age an uninterrupted influence ; at Mannheim 
he founds the Academy of Sciences, and remains president 
of it till his death. 

I never approached this eminent man, excepting on one 
night, when we gave him a torch-serenade. Our pitch-torches 
more filled with smoke than lighted the court-yard of the 
old chapter-house, which was over-arched by linden-trees. 
When the noise of the music had ended, he came forward, 
and stepped into the midst of us, — and here also was in his 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. f5 

right place. The slender, well-grown, cheerful old man stood 
with his light, free manners, venerably before us, and held us 
worthy the honor of a well-considered address, which he de- 
livered to us in an amiable paternal manner, without a trace 
of restraint or pedantry, so that we really thought ourselves 
something for the moment ; for, indeed, he treated us like 
the kings and princes whom he had been so often called upon 
to address in public. We testified our satisfaction aloud ; 
trumpets and drums repeatedly sounded ; and the dear, hope- 
ful academical plebs then found its way home with hearty 
satisfaction. 

His scholars and companions in study, Koch and Oberlin, 
were men in close connection with me. My taste for anti- 
quarian remains was passionate. They often let me into the 
museum, which contained, in many ways, the vouchers to his 
great work on Alsace. Even this work I had not known inti- 
mately until after that journey, when I had found antiquities 
on the spot ; and now, being perfectly advanced, I could, on 
longer or shorter expeditions, render present to myself the 
valley of the Rhine as a Roman possession, and finish color- 
ing many a dream of times past. 

Scarcely had I made some progress in this, when Oberlin 
directed me to the monuments of the Middle Ages, and made 
me acquainted with the ruins and remains, the seals and docu- 
ments, which those times have left behind them, — nay, sought 
to inspire me with an inclination for what we called the 
Minnesingers and. heroic poets. To this good man, as well 
as to Herr Koch, I have been greatly indebted ; and, if things 
had gone according to their wish, I should have had to thank 
them for the happiness of my life. The matter stood 
thus : — 

Schopflin, who for his whole lifetime had moved in the 
higher sphere of political law, and well knew the great in- 
fluence which such and kindred studies are likely to procure 
for a sound head, in courts and cabinets, felt an insuperable, 
nay, unjust, aversion from the situation of a civilian, and had 
inspired his scholars with the like sentiments. The above- 
mentioned two men, friends of Salzmann, had taken notice of 
me in a most friendly manner. My impassioned grasping at 
external objects, the manner in which I continued to bring 
forward their advantages, and to communicate to them a par- 
ticular interest, they prized higher than I did myself. My 
slight, and, I may say, my scanty, occupation with the civil 
law had not remained unobserved by them ; they were well 



76 TRUTH AND FICTION 

enough acquainted with me to know how easily I was to be 
influenced : I had made no secret of my liking for an aca- 
demical life ; and they therefore thought to gain me over to 
history, political law, and rhetoric, at first for a time, but 
afterwards more decidedly. Strasburg itself offered advan- 
tages enough. The prospect of the German Chancery at 
Versailles, the precedent of Schopflin, whose merits, indeed, 
seemed to me unattainable, were to incite to emulation, if 
not to imitation ; and perhaps a similar talent was thus to be 
cultivated, which might be both profitable to him who could 
boast of it, and useful to others who might choose to employ 
it on their own account. These, my patrons, and Salzmann 
with them, set a great value on my memory, and my capacity 
for apprehending the sense of languages, and chiefly by these 
sought to further their views and plans. 

I now intend to describe, at length, how all this came to 
nothing, and how it happened that I again passed over from 
the French to the German side. Let me be allowed, as here- 
tofore, to make some general reflections, by way of transition. 

There are few biographies which can represent a pure, quiet, 
steady progress of the individual. Our life, as well as that 
whole in which we are contained, is, in an incomprehensible 
manner, composed of freedom and necessity. That which 
we would do is a prediction of what we shall do, under all 
circumstances. But these circumstances lay hold on us in 
their own fashion. The what lies in us, the how seldom 
depends on us, after the wherefore we dare not ask, and on 
this account we are rightly referred to the quia. 

The French tongue I had liked from my youth upwards : I 
had become acquainted with the language through a bustling 
life, and with a bustling life through the language. It had 
become my own, like a second mother- tongue, without gram- 
mar and instruction — by mere intercourse and practice. I 
now wished to use it with still greater fluency, and gave 
Strasburg the preference, as a second university residence, 
to other high schools ; but, alas ! it was just there that I had 
to experience the very reverse of my hopes, and to be turned 
rather from than to this language and these manners. 

The French, who generally aim at good behavior, are in- 
dulgent towards foreigners who begin to speak their lan- 
guage : they will not laugh any one out of countenance at a 
mistake, or blame him in direct terms. However, since they 
cannot endure sins committed against their language, they 
have a manner of repeating, and, as it were, courteously con- 



KELATING TO MY LIFE. 77 

firming, what has been said with another turn, at the same 
time making use of the expression which should properly 
have been employed, thus leading the intelligent and the 
attentive to what is right and proper. 

Now, although, if one is in earnest, — if one has self-denial 
enough to profess one's self a pupil, one gains a great deal, and 
is much advanced by this plan, — -one nevertheless always feels 
in some degree humiliated, and, since one talks for the sake 
of the subject-matter also, often too much interrupted, or 
even distracted, so that one impatiently lets the conversation 
drop. This happened with me more than with others ; as I 
always thought that I had to say something interesting, and, 
on the other hand, to hear something important, and did not 
wish to be always brought back merely to the expression, — 
a case which often occurred with me, as my French was just 
as motley as that of any other foreigner. I had observed 
the accent and idiom of footmen, valets, guards, young and 
old actors, theatrical lovers, peasants, and heroes : and this 
Babylonish idiom was rendered still more confused by another 
odd ingredient ; as I liked to hear the French reformed clergy, 
and visited their churches the more willingly, as a Sunday 
walk to Bockenheim was on this account not only permitted 
but ordered. But even this was not enough ; for as, in my 
youthful years, I had always been chiefly directed to the 
German of the sixteenth century, I soon included the French 
also of that noble epoch among the objects of my inclination. 
Montaigne, Amyot, Rabelais, Marot, were my friends, and 
excited in me sympathy and delight. Now, all these different 
elements moved in my discourse chaotically one with another, 
so that for the hearer the meaning was lost in the oddity of 
the expression ; nay, an educated Frenchman could no more 
courteously correct me, but had to censure me and tutor me 
in plain terms. I therefore fared here once more as I had 
fared at Leipzig, except that on this occasion I could not 
appeal to the right of my native place to speak idiomatically, 
as well as other provinces, but, being on a foreign ground 
and soil, was forced to adapt myself to traditional laws. 

Perhaps we might even have resigned ourselves to this, if 
an evil genius had not whispered into our ears that all en- 
deavors by a foreigner to speak French would remain un- 
successful ; for a practised ear can perfectly well detect a 
German, Italian, or Englishman under a French mask. One 
is tolerated, but never received into the bosom of the only 
church of language. 



"78 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Only a few exceptions were granted. They named to us a 
Herr von Grimm ; but even Schopflin, it seemed, did not 
reach the summit. The} r allowed that he had early seen the 
necessity of expressing himself in French to perfection ; they 
approved of his inclination to converse with every one, and 
especially to entertain the great and persons of rank ; they 
praised him, that, living in the place where he was, he had 
made the language of the country his own, and had endeav- 
ored as much as possible to render himself a Frenchman of 
society, and orator. But what does he gain by the denial of 
his mother- tongue, and his efforts of speaking a foreign lan- 
guage ? He cannot make it right with anybody. In society 
they consider him vain ; as if any one would or could con- 
verse with others without some feeling for self and self-com- 
placency ! Then, the refined connoisseurs of the world and of 
language assert that there is in him more of dissertation and 
dialogue than of conversation, properly so called. The former 
was generally recognized as the original and fundamental sin 
of the Germans, the latter as the cardinal virtue of the French. 
As a public orator he fares no better. If he prints a well- 
elaborated address to the king or the princes, the Jesuits, who 
are ill disposed to him as a Protestant, lay wait for him, and 
show that his terms of expression are " not French." 

Instead of consoling ourselves with this, and bearing as 
green wood that which had been laid upon the dry, we were 
annoyed at such pedantic injustice. We despair, and, by this 
striking example, become the more convinced that it is a vain 
endeavor to try to satisfy the French by the matter itself, as 
they are too closely bound to the external conditions under 
which every thing is to appear. We therefore embrace the 
opposite resolution of getting rid of the French language 
altogether, and of directing ourselves more than ever, with 
might and earnestness, to our own mother-tongue. 

And for this we found opportunity and sympathy in actual 
life. Alsace had not been connected with France so long that 
an affectionate adherence to the old constitution, manners, 
language, and costume did not still exist with old and young. 
If the conquered party loses half his existence by compulsion, 
he looks upon it as disgraceful voluntarily to part with the 
other half. He therefore holds fast to all that can recall to 
him the good old time, and foster in him the hope that a better 
epoch will return. Very many inhabitants of Strasburg 
formed little circles, separate, indeed, but nevertheless united 
in spirit, which were always increased and recruited by the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. TO 

numerous subjects of German princes who held considerable 
lands under French sovereignty ; since fathers and sons, either 
for the sake of study or business, resided for a longer or 
shorter time at Strasburg. 

At our table nothing but German was spoken. Salzmann 
expressed himself in French with much fluency and elegance, 
but, with respect to his endeavors and acts, was a perfect Ger- 
man. Lerse might have been set up as a pattern of a 
German youth. Meyer, of Lindau, liked to get on with good 
German too well to shine in good French ; and if, among the 
rest, many were inclined to the Gallic speech and manners, 
they yet, while they were with us, allowed the general tone to 
prevail with them. 

From the language we turned to political affairs. We 
had not, indeed, much to say in praise of our own imperial 
constitution. We granted that it consisted of mere legal 
contradictions, but exalted ourselves so much the more 
above the present French constitution, which lost itself in 
mere lawless abuses ; while the government only showed its 
energy in the wrong place, and was forced to admit that a 
complete change in affairs was already publicly prophesied 
with black forebodings. 

If, on the other hand, we looked towards the north, we were 
shone upon by Frederick, the polar-star, who seemed to turn 
about himself Germany, Europe, — nay, the whole world. His 
preponderance in every thing was most strongly manifested 
when the Prussian exercise and even the Prussian stick was 
introduced into the French army. As for the rest, we forgave 
him his predilection for a foreign language ; since we felt sat- 
isfaction that his French poets, philosophers, and litterateurs 
continued to annoy him, and often declared that he was to be 
considered and treated only as an intruder. 

But what, more than all, forcibly alienated us from the 
French, was the unpolite opinion, repeatedly maintained, that 
the Germans in general, as well as the king, who was striving 
after French cultivation, were deficient in taste. With regard 
to this kind of talk, which followed every judgment like a 
burden, we endeavored to solace ourselves with contempt : 
but we could so much the less come to a clear understanding 
about it, as we were assured that Menage had already said, 
that the French writers possessed every thing but taste ; and 
had also learned, from the then living Paris, that all the 
authors were wanting in taste, and that Voltaire himself could 
not escape this severest of reproaches. Having been before 



80 TRUTH AND FICTION 

and often directed to nature, we would allow of nothing but 
truth and uprightness of feeling, and the quick, blunt expres- 
sion of it. 

" Friendship, love, and brotherhood, 
Are they not self -understood?' ' 

was the watchword and cry of battle, by which the members 
of our little academical horde used to know and enliven each 
other. This maxim la} 7 at the foundation of all our social 
banquets, on the occasions of which we did not fail to pay 
many an evening visit to Cousin Michel, 1 in his well-known 
" Germanhood." 

If, in what has hitherto been described, only external con- 
tingent causes and personal peculiarities are found, the French 
literature had in itself certain qualities which were rather 
repulsive than attractive to an aspiring youth. It was ad- 
vanced in years and genteel ; and by neither of these quali- 
ties can youth, which looks about for enjoyment of life and 
for freedom, be delighted. 

Since the sixteenth century, the course of French literature 
had never been seen to be completely interrupted, — nay, the 
internal and religious disturbances, as well as the external 
wars, had accelerated its progress ; but, as we heard generally 
maintained, it was a hundred years ago that it had existed in 
its full bloom. Through favorable circumstances, they said, 
an abundant harvest had at once ripened, and had been hap- 
pily gathered in ; so that the great talents of the eighteenth 
century had to be moderately contented with mere gleanings. 

Meanwhile, however, much had become antiquated, — first 
of all comedy, which had to be freshened up to adapt itself 
less perfectly, indeed, but still with new interest, to actual 
life and manners. Of the tragedies, many had vanished from 
the stage ; and Voltaire did not let slip the important oppor- 
tunity which offered of editing Corneille's works, that he 
might show how defective his predecessor had been, whom, 
according to the general voice, he had not equalled. 

And even this very Voltaire, the wonder of his time, had 
grown old, like the literature which for nearly a century he 
had animated and governed. By his side still existed and 
vegetated many litterateurs, in a more or less active and 
happy old age, who one by one disappeared. The influence 
of society upon authors increased more and more; for the 
best society, consisting of persons of birth, rank, and prop- 

1 "Michel" is exactly to the Germans what •'John Bull" is to the English.— 
Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. * 81 

erty, chose for one of their chief recreations literature, which 
thus became quite social and genteel. Persons of rank and 
litterateurs mutually cultivated and necessarily perverted 
each other, for the genteel has always something excluding 
in its nature ; and excluding also was the French criticism, 
being negative, detracting, and fault-finding. The higher 
class made use of such judgments against the authors : the 
authors, with somewhat less decorum, proceeded in the same 
manner against each other, — nay, against their patrons. If 
the public was not to be awed, they endeavored to take it by 
surprise, or gain it by humility; and thus — apart from the 
movements which shook Church and State to their inmost core 
— there arose such a literary ferment, that Voltaire himself 
stood in need of his full activity, and his whole preponder- 
ance, to keep himself above the torrent of general disesteem. 
Already he was openly called an old, capricious child ; his 
endeavors, carried on indefatigably, were regarded as the 
vain efforts of a decrepit age ; certain principles on which 
he had stood during his whole life, and to the spread of which 
he had devoted his days, were no more held in esteem and 
honor ; nay, his Deity, by acknowledging whom he continued 
to declare himself free from atheism, was not conceded him ; 
and thus he himself, the grandsire and patriarch, was forced, 
like his youngest competitor, to watch the present moment, 
to catch at new power, to do his friends too much good and 
his enemies too much harm, and, under the appearance of a 
passionate striving for the love of truth, to act deceitfully and 
falsely. Was it worth the trouble to have led such a great, 
active life, if it were to end in greater dependence than it had 
begun? How insupportable such a position was, did not 
escape his high mind, his delicate sensibility. He often 
relieved himself by leaps and thrusts, gave the reins to his 
humor, and carried a few of his sword-cuts too far, at 
which friends and enemies, for the most part, showed them- 
selves indignant ; for every one thought he could play the 
superior to him, though no one could equal him. A public 
which only hears the judgment of old men becomes over-wise 
too soon, and nothing is more unsatisfactory than a mature 
judgment adopted by an immature mind. 

To us youths, before whom, with our German love of truth 
and nature, honesty towards both ourselves and others 
hovered as the best guide, both in life and learning, the fac- 
tious dishonesty of Voltaire and the perversion of so many 
worthy subjects became more and more annoying ; and we 



82 TRUTH AND FICTION 

daily strengthened ourselves in our aversion from him. He 
could never cease degrading religion and the sacred books, 
for the sake of injuring priestcraft, 1 as they called it, and 
had thus produced in me many an unpleasant sensation. 
But when I now learned, that, to weaken the tradition of a 
deluge, he had denied all petrified shells, and only admitted 
them as lusus naturce, he entirely lost my confidence ; for my 
own eyes had, on the Baschberg, plainly enough shown me 
that I stood on the bottom of an old dried-up sea, among 
the exuvice of its original inhabitants. These mountains 
had certainly been once covered by waves, whether before or 
during the deluge did not concern me : it was enough that the 
valley of the Rhine had been a monstrous lake, a bay ex- 
tending beyond the reach of the eyesight ; out of this I was not 
to be talked. I thought much more of advancing in the knowl- 
edge of lands and mountains, let what would be the result. 

French literature, then, had grown old and genteel in it- 
self, and through Voltaire. Let us devote some further con- 
sideration to this remarkable man. 

From his youth upwards, Voltaire's wishes and endeavors 
had been directed to an active and social life, to politics, to 
gain on a large scale, to a connection with the heads of the 
earth, and a profitable use of this connection, that he him- 
self might be one of the heads of the earth also. No one 
has easily made himself so dependent for the sake of being 
independent. He even succeeded in subjugating minds : the 
nation became his own. In vain did his opponents unfold 
their moderate talents and their monstrous hate : nothing 
succeeded in injuring him. The court he could never recon- 
cile to himself ; but, by way of compensation, foreign kings 
were his tributaries ; Catharine, and Frederick the Great, 
Gustavus of Sweden, Christian of Denmark, Peniotowsky of 
Poland, Henry of Prussia, Charles of Brunswick, acknowl- 
edged themselves his vassals ; even popes thought they must 
coax him by some acts of indulgence. That Joseph the 
Second had kept aloof from him did not at all redound to 
the honor of this prince ; for it would have done no harm to 
him and his undertakings, if, with such a fine intellect and 
with such noble views, he had been somewhat more prac- 
tically clever, 2 and a better appreciator of the mind. 

1 " Urn don bo genannten Pfaffen zu schaden." As we have not the word for a 
priest which exactly expresses the contempt involved in " Pfaffe," the word "priest- 
cra/t" has been introduced. — Tkans. 

" '• Practically clever " is put as a kind of equivalent for the difficult word " geist- 
reich." — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE 83 

What I have stated here in a compressed form, and in 
some connection, sounded at that time as a cry of the 
moment, as a perpetual discord, unconnected and uninstruc- 
tive, in our ears. Nothing was heard but the praise of those 
who had gone before. Something good and new was re- 
quired, but the newest was never liked. Scarcely had a 
patriot exhibited on the long inanimate stage national-French, 
heart-inspiring subjects, scarcely had the " Siege of Calais " 
gained enthusiastic applause, than the piece, together with 
all its national comrades, was considered empty, and in 
every sense objectionable. The delineations of manners by 
Destouches, which had so often delighted me when a boy, 
were called weak ; the name of this honest man had passed 
away : and how many authors could I not point out, for the 
sake of whom I had to endure the reproach, that I judged 
like a provincial, if I showed any sympathy for such men 
and their works, in opposition to any one who was carried 
along by the newest literary torrent ! 

Thus, to our other German comrades, we became more 
and more annoying. According to our view, according to the 
peculiarity of our own nature, we had to retain the impres- 
sions of objects, to consume them but slowly, and, if it was 
to be so, to let them go as late as possible. We were con- 
vinced, that by faithful observation, by continued occupa- 
tion, something might be gained from all things, and that by 
persevering zeal we must at last arrive at a point where the 
ground of the judgment may be expressed at the same time 
with the judgment itself. Neither did we fail to perceive 
that the great and noble French world offered us many an 
advantage and much profit, for Rousseau had really touched 
our sympathies. But, if we considered his life and his fate, 
he was nevertheless compelled to find the great reward for 
all he did in this, — that he could live unacknowledged and 
forgotten at Paris. 

Whenever we heard the encyclopedists mentioned, or 
opened a volume of their monstrous work, we felt as if we 
were going between the innumerable moving spools and 
looms in a great factory, where, what with the mere creak- 
ing and rattling ; what with all the mechanism, embarrassing 
both eyes and senses ; what with the mere incomprehensi- 
bility of an arrangement, the parts of which work into each 
other in the most manifold way ; what with the contempla- 
tion of all that is necessary to prepare a piece of cloth, — we 
feel disgusted with the very coat which we wear upon our backs. 



84 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Diderot was sufficiently akin to us ; as, indeed, in every 
thing, for which the French blame him, he is a true German. 
But even his point of view was too high, his circle of vision 
was too extended, for us to range ourselves with him, and 
place ourselves at his side. Nevertheless, his children of 
nature, whom he continued to bring forward and dignify with 
great rhetorical art, pleased us very much ; his brave poach- 
ers and smugglers enchanted us ; and this rabble afterwards 
throve but too well upon the German Parnassus. It was he 
also, who, like Rousseau, diffused a disgust of social life, — 
a quiet introduction to those monstrous changes of the 
world in which every thing permanent appeared to sink. 

However, we ought now to put aside these considerations, 
and to remark what influence these two men have had upon 
art. Even here they pointed, even from here they urged us, 
towards nature. 

The highest problem of any art is, to produce by semblance 
the illusion of some higher reality. But it is a false en- 
deavor to realize the appearance until at last only something 
commonly real remains. 

As an ideal locality, the stage, by the application of the 
laws of perspective to coulisses ranged one behind the other, 
had attained the greatest advantage ; and this very gain they 
now wished wantonly to abandon, by shutting up the sides 
of the theatre, and forming real room-walls. ' With such an 
arrangement of the stage, the piece itself, the actors' mode 
of playing, in a word, every thing, was to coincide ; and thus 
an entirely new theatre was to arise. 

The French actors had, in comedy, attained the summit of 
the true in art. Their residence at Paris ; their observations 
of the externals of the court ; the connection of the actors 
and actresses with the highest classes, by means of love- 
affairs, — all contributed to transplant to the stage the great- 
est realness and seemliness of social life ; and on this point 
the friends of nature found but little to blame. However, 
they thought they made a great advance, if they chose for 
their pieces earnest and tragical subjects, in which the citi- 
zen-life should not be wanting, used prose .for the higher 
mode of expression, and thus banished unnatural verse, 
together with unnatural declamation and gesticulation. 

It is extremely remarkable, and has not been generally 
noticed, that, at this time, even the old, severe, rhythmical, 
artistical tragedy was threatened with a revolution, which could 
only be averted by great talents and the power of tradition. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 85 

In opposition to the actor Lecain, who acted his heroes 
with especial theatrical decorum, with deliberation, elevation, 
and force, and kept himself aloof from the natural and ordi- 
nary, came forward a man named Aufresne, who declared 
war against every thing unnatural, and in his tragic acting 
sought to express the highest truth. This method might not 
have accorded with that of the other Parisian actors. He 
stood alone, while they kept together ; and, adhering to his 
views obstinately enough, he chose to leave Paris rather than 
alter them, and came through Strasburg. There we saw him 
play the part of Augustus in u Cinna," that of Mithridates, 
and others of the sort, with the truest and most natural dig- 
nity. He appeared as a tall, handsome man, more slender 
than strong, not, properly speaking, with an imposing, but 
nevertheless with a noble, pleasing, demeanor. His acting 
was well considered and quiet, without being cold, and forci- 
ble enough where force was required. He was a very well- 
practised actor, and one of the few who know how to turn 
the artificial completely into nature, and nature completely 
into the artificial. It is really those few whose good quali- 
ties, being misunderstood, always originate the doctrine of 
false " naturalness." 

And thus will I also make mention of a work, which is 
indeed small, but which made an epoch in a remarkable man- 
ner, — I mean Rousseau's " Pygmalion." A great deal could 
be said upon it ; for this strange production floats between 
nature and art, with the full endeavor of resolving the latter 
into the former. We see an artist who has produced what is 
most perfect, and yet does not find any satisfaction in hav- 
ing, according to art, represented his idea externally to him- 
self, and given to it a higher life ; no, it must also be drawn 
down to him into the earthly life. He will destroy the highest 
that mind and deed have produced, by the commonest act of 
sensuality. 

All this and much else, right and foolish, true and half- 
true, operating upon us as it did, still more perplexed our 
notions : we were driven astray through many by-ways and 
roundabout ways ; and thus on many sides was prepared that 
German literary revolution, of which we were witnesses, and 
to which, consciously or unconsciously, willingly or unwill- 
ingly, we unceasingly contributed. 

We had neither impulse nor tendency to be illumined and 
advanced in a philosophical manner : on religious subjects 
we thought we had sufficiently enlightened ourselves, and 



86 TRUTH AND FICTION 

therefore the violent contest of the French philosophers with 
the priesthood was tolerably indifferent to us. Prohibited 
books, condemned to the flames, which then made a great 
noise, produced no effect upon us. I mention as an instance, 
to serve for all, the " Systeme de la Nature," which we took 
in hand out of curiosity. We did not understand how such 
a book could be dangerous. It appeared to us so dark, so 
Cimmerian, so deathlike, that we found it a trouble to endure 
its presence, and shuddered at it as at a spectre. The author 
fancies he gives his book a peculiar recommendation, when 
he declares in his preface, that as a decrepit old man, just 
sinking into the grave, he wishes to announce the truth to his 
contemporaries and to posterity. 

We laughed at him ; for we thought we had observed, that 
by old people nothing in the world that is lovable and good 
is, in fact, appreciated. " Old churches have dark windows : 
to know how cherries and berries taste, we must ask children 
and sparrows." These were our gibes and maxims; and 
thus that book, as the very quintessence of senility, appeared 
to us as unsavory, nay, absurd. "All was to be of neces- 
sity," so said the book, " and therefore there was no God." 
But might not there be a God by necessity too ? asked we. 
We indeed confessed, at the same time, that we could not 
withdraw ourselves from the necessities of day and night, 
the seasons, the influence of climate, physical and animal 
condition : we nevertheless felt within us something that ap- 
peared like perfect freedom of will, and again something 
which endeavored to counterbalance this freedom. 

The hope of becoming more and more rational, of making 
ourselves more and more independent of external things, nay, 
of ourselves, we could not give up. The word freedom sounds 
so beautiful, that we cannot do without it, even though it 
should designate an error. 

Not one of us had read the book through, for we found 
ourselves deceived in the expectations with which we had 
opened it. A system of nature was announced ; and there- 
fore we hoped to learn really something of nature, — our idol. 
Physics and chemistry, descriptions of heaven and earth, 
natural history and anatomy, with much else, had now for 
years, and up to the last day, constantly directed us to the 
great, adorned world ; and we would willingly have heard both 
particulars and generals about suns and stars, planets and 
moons, mountains, valleys, rivers and seas, with all that live 
and move in them. That, in the course of this, much must 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 87 

occur which would appear to the common man as injurious, 
to the clergy as dangerous, and to the state as inadmissible, 
we had no doubt ; and we hoped that the little book had not 
unworthily stood the fiery ordeal. But how hollow and empty 
did we feel in this melancholy, atheistical half-night, in which 
earth vanished with all its images, heaven with all its stars. 
There was to be a matter in motion from all eternity ; and by 
this motion, right and left and in every direction, without 
any thing further, it w T as to produce the infinite phenomena of 
existence. Even all this we should have allowed to pass, if 
the author, out of his moved matter, had really built up the 
world before our eyes. But he seemed to know as little about 
nature as we did ; for, having set up some general ideas, he 
quits them at once, for the sake of changing that which ap- 
pears as higher than nature, or as a higher nature within 
nature, into material, heavy nature, which is moved, indeed, 
but without direction or form — and thus he fancies he has 
gained a great deal. 

If, after all, this book had done us some harm, it w T as this, — 
that we took a hearty dislike to all philosophy, and especially 
metaphysics, and remained in that dislike ; while, on the 
other hand, we threw ourselves into living knowledge, expe- 
rience, action, and poetizing, with all the more liveliness and 
passion. 

Thus, on the very borders of France, we had at once got 
rid and clear of every thing French about us. The French 
way of life we found too defined and genteel, their poetry 
cold, their criticism annihilating, their philosophy abstruse, 
and yet insufficient ; so that we were on the point of resigning 
ourselves to rude nature, at least by way of experiment, if 
another influence had not for a long time prepared us for 
higher and freer views of the world, and intellectual enjoy- 
ments as true as they were poetical, and swayed us, first 
moderately and secretly, but afterwards with more and more 
openness and force. 

I need hardly say that Shakspeare is meant ; and, having 
once said this, no more need be added. Shakspeare has been 
recognized by the Germans, more by them than by other 
nations, perhaps even more than by his own. We have 
richty bestowed on him all that justice, fairness, and forbear- 
ance which we refused to ourselves. Eminent men have oc- 
cupied themselves in showing his talents in the most favorable 
light ; and I have always readily subscribed to what has been 
said to his honor, in his favor, or even by way of excuse for 



88 TRUTH AND FICTION 

him. The influence this extraordinary mind had upon me 
has been already shown ; an attempt has been made with 
respect to his works, which has received approbation ; and 
therefore this general statement may suffice for the present, 
until I am in a position to communicate to such friends as 
like to hear me, a gleaning of reflections on his great deserts, 
such as I was tempted to insert in this very place. 

At present I will only show more clearly the manner in 
which I became acquainted with him. It happened pretty 
soon at Leipzig, through Dodd's " Beauties of Shakspeare." 
Whatever may be said against such collections, which give 
authors in a fragmentary form, they nevertheless produce 
many good effects. We are not always so collected and 
so ready that we can take in a whole work according to 
its merits. Do we not, in a book, mark passages which 
have an immediate reference to ourselves? Young people 
especially, who are wanting in a thorough cultivation, are 
laudably excited by brilliant passages ; and thus I myself 
remember, as one of the most beautiful epochs of my life, 
that which is characterized by the above-mentioned work. 
Those noble peculiarities, those great sayings, those happy 
descriptions, those humorous traits, all struck me singly and 
powerfully. 

Wieland's translation now made its appearance. It was 
devoured, communicated and recommended to friends and 
acquaintances. We Germans had the advantage, that many 
important works of foreign nations were first brought over to 
us in an easy and cheerful fashion. Shakspeare, translated 
in prose, first by Wieland, afterwards by Eschenburg, was 
able, as a kind of reading universally intelligible, and suitable 
to any reader, to diffuse itself speedily, and to produce a great 
effect. I value both rhythm and rhyme, whereby poetry first 
becomes poetry ; but that which is really, deeply, and fun- 
damentally effective, that which is really permanent and 
furthering, is that which remains of the poet when he is trans- 
lated into prose. Then remains the pure, perfect substance, 
of which, when absent, a dazzling exterior often contrives to 
make a false show, and which, when present, such an ex- 
terior contrives to conceal. I therefore consider prose trans- 
lations more advantageous than poetical, for the beginning 
of youthful culture; for it may be remarked, that boys, to 
whom every thing must serve as a jest, delight themselves 
with the sound of words and the fall of syllables, and, by a 
sort of parodistical wantonness, destroy the deep contents of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 89 

the noblest work. Hence I would have it considered whether 
a prose translation of Homer should not be undertaken next ; 
though this, indeed, must be worthy of the degree at which 
German literature stands at present. I leave this, and what 
has been already said, to the consideration of our worthy 
pedagogues, to whom an extensive experience on this matter 
is most at command. I will only, in favor of my proposi- 
tion, mention Luther's translation of the Bible ; for the cir- 
cumstance that this excellent man handed down a work, 
composed in the most different styles, and gave us its poetical, 
historical, commanding didactic tone in our mother-tongue, 
as if all were cast in one mould, has done more to advance 
religion than if he had attempted to imitate, in detail, the 
peculiarities of the original. In vain has been the subsequent 
endeavor to make Job, the Psalms, and the other lyrical 
books, capable of affording enjoyment in their poetical form. 
For the multitude, upon whom the effect is to be produced, 
a plain translation always remains the best. Those critical 
translations, which vie with the original, really only seem to 
amuse the learned among themselves. 

And thus in our Strasburg society did Shakspeare, trans- 
lated and in the original, by fragments and as a whole, by 
passages and by extracts, influence us in such a manner, that, 
as there are men well versed in the Bible (Bibelfest) , so did 
we gradually make ourselves thoroughly acquainted with 
Shakspeare, imitated in our conversations those virtues and 
defects of his time with which he had made us so well ac- 
quainted, took the greatest delight in his u quibbles," * and, 
by translating them, nay, with original recklessness, tried to 
rival him. To this, the fact that I had seized upon him 
above all, with great enthusiasm, did not a little contribute. 
A happy confession that something higher hovered over me 
was infectious for my friends, who all resigned themselves 
to this mode of thought. We did not deny the possibility 
of knowing such merits more closely, of comprehending 
them, of judging them with penetration ; but this we reserved 
for later epochs. At present we only wished to sympathize 
gladly, and to imitate with spirit ; and, while we had so much 
enjoyment, we did not wish to inquire and haggle about the 
man who afforded it, but unconditionally to revere him. 

If any one would learn immediately what was thought, 
talked about, and discussed in this lively society, let him 
read Herder's essay on Shakspeare, in the part of his works 

1 Tills English word is used in the original.— Trans. 



90 TRUTH AND FICTION 

upon the German manner and art (" Ueber deutsche Art und 
Kunst ,, ) 1 and also Lenz's remarks on the theatre (" Anmer- 
kungen iibers Theater "), to which a translation of " Love's 
Labor Lost " was added. 1 Herder penetrates into the deepest 
interior of Shakspeare's nature, and exhibits it nobly : Lenz 
conducts himself more like an iconoclast against the traditions 
of the theatre, and will have every thing everywhere treated in 
Shakspeare's manner. Since I have had occasion to mention 
this clever and eccentric man here, this is the place to say 
something about him by way of experiment. I did not 
become acquainted with him till towards the end of my resi- 
dence at Strasburg. We saw each other seldom, — his com- 
pany was not mine ; but we sought an opportunity of meet- 
ing, and willingly communicated with each other, because, 
as contemporary youths, we harbored similar views. He had 
a small but neat figure ; a charming little head, to the ele- 
gant form of which his delicate but somewhat flat features 
perfectly corresponded ; blue eyes, blond hair, — in short, a 
person such as I have from time to time met among Northern 
youths ; a soft, and, as it were, cautious, step ; a pleasant but 
not quite flowing speech ; and a conduct which, fluctuating 
between reserve and slryness, well became a young man. Small 
poems, especially his own, he read very well aloud. For his 
turn of mind I only know the English word "whimsical," 
which, as the dictionary shows, comprises very many sin- 
gularities under one notion. No one, perhaps, was more 
capable than he to feel and imitate the extravagances and 
excrescences of Shakspeare's genius. To this the trans- 
lation above mentioned bears witness. He treated his author 
with great freedom, was not in the least close and faithful; 
but he knew how to put on the armor, or rather the motley 
jacket, of his predecessor so very well, to adapt himself with 
such humor to his gestures, that he was certain to obtain 
applause from those who were interested in such matters. 

The absurdities of the clowns especially constituted our 
whole happiness ; and we praised Lenz as a favored man, 
when he succeeded in rendering as follows the epitaph on the 
deer shot by the princess : — 

" Die schone Princessin schoss und traf 
Eines jungen Hirschleins Leben; 
Es fiel dahin in schweren Schlaf 
Und wird ein Bratlein geben. 

8 A complete edition of Lenz's works was published by Tieck in 1828. In that 
will be found the essay and play in question, to the last of which he gives the name 
Amor vincit omnia. — Trans. 



- RELATING TO MY LIFE. 91 

Der Jagdhund boll ! Ein L zu Hirsch 
So wird es derm ein Hirschel ; 
Doch setzt ein romisch L zn Hirsch 
So macht es funfzig Hirschel. 
Ich mache hundert Hirsche draus 
Schreib Hirschell mit zwei LLen." 1 

The tendency towards the absurd, which is displayed freely 
and unrestrictedly in youth, but afterwards recedes more into 
the background, without being on that account utterly lost, 
was in full bloom among us ; and we sought, even by original 
jests, to celebrate our great master. We were very proud 
when we could lay before the company something of the kind, 
which was in any degree approved, as, for instance, the fol- 
lowing on a riding-master, who had been hurt on a wild horse. 

" A rider in this house you'll find, 
A master too is he : 
The two into a nosegay bind, 
'Twill riding-master be. 
If master of the ride, I wis, 
Full well he bears the name ; 
But if the ride the master is, 
On him and his be shame." 2 

About such things serious discussions were held as to 
whether they were worthy of the clown or not, whether they 
flowed from the genuine pure fool's spring, and whether 
sense and understanding had at all mingled in an unfitting 
and inadmissible manner. Altogether our singular views 
were diffused with the greater ardor, and more persons were 
in a position to sympathize with them, as Lessing, in whom 
great confidence was placed, had, properly speaking, given 
the first signal in his " Dramaturgic." 

In a society so attuned and excited I managed to take many 

1 The lines in Shakspeare, which the above are intended to imitate, are the follow- 
ing : — 

" The praiseful princess pierced and pricked a pretty pleasing pricket; 
Some say a sore ; but not a sore, till now made sore with shooting. 
The dogs did yell; put 1 to sore, then sorel jumps from thicket; 
Or pricket, sore, or else sorel; the people fall a-hooting. 
If sore be sore, then 1 to sore makes fifty sores ; O sore 1 ! 
Of one sore I a hundred make, by adding but one more 1." 

Lenz's words, which cannot be rendered intelligibly into English, furnish an in- 
stance of Gothe's meaning, when he commends Lenz as happily catching the spirit 
of the original, without the slightest pretence to accuracy. — Trans. 

2 The above doggerel is pretty faithful, but it is as well to give the original. 

"Ein Ritter wohnt in diesem Haus; 
Ein Meister auch daneben ; 
Macht man davon ein en Blumenstrauss 
So wird's einen Rittmeister geben. 
1st er nun Meister von dem Ritt 
Fiihrt er mit Recht den Namen ; 
Doch nimmt der Ritt den Meister mit. 
Wen ihm und seinem Samen." — Trans. 



92 tRUTH AND FICTIOiV 

a pleasant excursion into Upper Alsace, whence, however, 
on this very account, I brought back no particular instruction. 
The number of little verses which flowed from us on that oc- 
casion, and which might serve to adorn a lively description 
of a journey, are lost. In the cross-way of Molsheim Abbey 
we admired the painted windows : in the fertile spot between 
Colmar and Schlettstadt resounded some comic hymns to 
Ceres ; the consumption of so many fruits being circumstan- 
tially set forth and extolled, and the important question as to 
the free or restricted trade in them being very merrily taken 
up. At Ensisheim we saw the monstrous aerolite hanging up 
in the church, and, in accordance with the scepticism of the 
time, ridiculed the credulity of man, never suspecting that 
such air-born beings, if they were not to fall into our corn- 
fields, were at any rate to be preserved in our cabinets. 

Of a pilgrimage to the Ottilienberg, accomplished with 
an hundred, nay, a thousand, of the faithful, I still love to 
think. Here, where the foundation- wall of a Roman castle 
still remained, a count's beautiful daughter, of a pious dis- 
position, was said to have dwelt among ruins and stony 
crevices. Near the chapel where the wanderers edify them- 
selves, her well is shown ; and much that is beautiful is nar- 
rated. The image which I formed of her, and her name, 
made a deep impression upon me. I carried both about with 
me for a long time, until at last I endowed with them one of 
my later, but not less-beloved, daughters, 1 who was so favor- 
ably received by pure and pious hearts. 

On this eminence also is repeated to the eye the majestic 
Alsace, always the same, and always new. Just as in an 
amphitheatre, let one take one's place where he will, he sur- 
veys the whole people, but sees his neighbors most plainly ; 
so it is here with bushes, rocks, hills, woods, fields, meadows, 
and districts near and in the distance. They wished to show 
us even Basle in the horizon ; that we saw it, I will not 
swear : but the remote blue of the Swiss mountains even here 
exercised its rights over us, by summoning us to itself, and, 
since we could not follow the impulse, by leaving a painful 
feeling. 

To such distractions and cheerful recreations I abandoned 
myself the more readily, and even with a degree of intoxica- 
tion, because my passionate connection with Frederica now 
began to trouble me. Such a }outhful affection cherished at 
random may be compared to a bomb-shell thrown at night, 

1 By this dauahter he means " Ottilie " in the Elective Affinities. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 93 

which rises with a soft, brilliant track, mingles with the stars, 
nay, for a moment, seems to pause among them, then, in de- 
scending, describes the same path in the reverse direction, 
and at last brings destruction to the place where it has ter- 
minated its course. Frederica always remained equal to 
herself: she seemed not to think, nor to wish to think, that 
the connection would so soon terminate. Olivia, op the con- 
trary, who indeed also missed me with regret, but neverthe- 
less did not lose so much as the other, had more foresight, 
or was more open. She often spoke to me about my proba- 
ble departure, and sought to console herself, both on her own 
and her sister's account. A girl who renounces a man to 
whom she has not denied her affections, is far from being in 
that painful situation in which a youth finds himself who has 
gone so far in his declarations to a lady. He always plays 
a pitiful part ; since a certain survey of his situation is ex- 
pected of him as a growing man, and a decided levity does 
not suit him. The reasons of a girl who draws back always 
seem sufficient, those of a man — never. 

But how should a flattering passion allow us to foresee 
whither it may lead us ? For, even when we have quite sen- 
sibly renounced it, we cannot get rid of it : we take pleasure 
in the charming habit, even if this is to be in an altered 
manner. Thus it was with me. Although the presence of 
Frederica pained me, I knew of nothing more pleasant than 
to think of her while absent, and to converse with her. I 
went to see her less frequently, but our correspondence be- 
came so much the more animated. She knew how to bring 
before me her situation with cheerfulness, her feelings with 
grace ; and I called her merits to mind with fervor and with 
passion. Absence made me free, and my whole affection first 
truly bloomed by this communication in the distance. At 
such moments I could quite blind myself as to the future, 
and was sufficiently distracted by the progress of time and of 
pressing business. I had hitherto made it possible to do 
the most various things by alwa} T s taking a lively interest in 
what was present, and belonged to the immediate moment ; 
but, towards the end, all became too much crowded together, 
as is always the case when one is to free one's self from a 
place. 

One more event, which happened in an interval, took up 
the last days. I happened to be in respectable company at a 
country-house, whence there was a noble view of the front 
of the minster, and the tower which rises over it. "It is a 



94 TRUTH AND FICTION 

pity," said some one, u that the whole was not finished, and 
that we have only one tower." — "It is just as unpleasant 
to rne," answered I, "to see this one tower not quite com- 
pleted, for the four volutes leave off much too bluntly : there 
should have been upon them four light spires, with a higher 
one in the middle where the clumsy cross is standing." 

When I had expressed this strong opinion with my accus- 
tomed animation, a little lively man addressed me, and asked, 
" Who told you so? "— " The tower itself," I replied : " I 
have observed it so long and so attentively, and have shown 
it so much affection, that it at last resolved to make me this 
open confession." — "It has not misinformed you," answered 
he : "I am the best judge of that, for I am the person offi- 
cially placed over the public edifices. We still have among 
our archives the original sketches, which say the same thing, 
and which I can show to you." On account of my speedy 
departure I pressed him to show me this kindness as speedily 
as possible. He let me see the precious rolls : I soon, with 
the help of oiled paper, drew the spires, which were wanting 
in the building as executed, and regretted that I had not been 
sooner informed of this treasure. But this was always to be 
the case with me, that, by looking at things and considering 
them, I should first attain a conception, which perhaps would 
not have been so striking and so fruitful if it had been given 
ready made. 

Amid all this pressure and confusion I could not forego 
seeing Frederica once more. Those were painful days, the 
memory of which has not remained with me. When I reached 
her my hand from my horse, the tears stood in her eyes ; and 
I felt very uneasy. I now rode along the footpath towards 
Drusenheim, and here one of the most singular forebodings 
took possession of me. I saw, not with the eyes of .the 
body, but with those of the mind, my own figure coming 
towards me, on horseback, and on the same road, attired in 
a dress which I had never worn, — it was pike-gray {liecht- 
grau) , with somewhat of gold. As soon as I shook myself 
out of this dream, the figure had entirely disappeared. It is 
strange, however, that, eight years afterwards, I found my- 
self on the very road, to pay one more visit to Frederica, in 
the dress of which I had dreamed, and which I wore, not from 
choice, but by accident. However it may be with matters of 
this kind generally, this strange illusion in some measure 
calmed me at the moment of parting. The pain of quitting 
forever noble Alsace, with all I had gained in it, was soft- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 95 

ened ; and, having at last escaped the excitement of a fare- 
well, I, on a peaceful and quiet journey, pretty well regained 
my self-possession. 

Arrived at Mannheim, I hastened with great eagerness to 
see the hall of antiquities, of which a great boast was made. 
Even at Leipzig, on the occasion of Winckelmann's and 
Lessing's writings, I had heard much said of those impor- 
tant works of art, but so much the less had I seen them : for 
except Laocooh, the father, and the Faun with the crotola, 
there were no casts in the academy \ and whatever Oeser 
chose to say to us on the subject of those works was enig- 
matical enough. How can a conception of the end of art 
be given to beginners? 

Director Versehaffel's reception was kind. I was conducted 
to the saloon by one of his associates, who, after he had 
opened it for me, left me to my own inclinations and reflec- 
tions. Here I now stood, open to the most wonderful im- 
pressions, in a spacious, four-cornered, and, with its extraor- 
dinary height, almost cubical, saloon, in a space well lighted 
from above by the windows under the cornice ; with the 
noblest statues of antiquity, not only ranged along the walls, 
but also set up one with another over the whole area, — 
a forest of statues, through which one was forced to wind ; a 
great, ideal, popular assembly, through which one was forced 
to press. All these noble figures could, by opening and clos- 
ing the curtains, be placed in the most advantageous light ; 
and, besides this, they were movable on their pedestals, and 
could be turned about at pleasure. 

After I had for a time sustained the first impression of this 
irresistible mass, I turned to those figures which attracted me 
the most ; and who can deny that the Apollo Belvidere, with 
his well-proportioned colossal stature, his slender build, his 
free movement, his conquering glance, carried off the victory 
over our feelings in preference to all the others ? I then turned 
to Laocoon, whom I here saw for the first time in connection 
with his sons. I brought to mind, as well as possible, the dis- 
cussions and contests which had been held concerning him, 
and tried to get a point of view of my own ; but I was now 
drawn this way, now that. The dying gladiator long held 
me fast ; but the group of Castor and Pollux, that precious 
though problematical relic, I had especially to thank for my 
happiest moments. I did not know how impossible it was at 
once to account to one's self for a sight affording enjoyment. 
I forced myself to reflect *, and, little as I succeeded in attain- 



96 TRUTH AND FICTION 

ing any sort of clearness, I felt that every individual figure 
from this great assembled mass was comprehensible, that 
every object was natural and significant in itself. 

Nevertheless my chief attention was directed to Laocoon ; 
and I decided for myself the famous question, why he did not 
shriek, by declaring to myself that he could not shriek. All 
the actions and movements of the three figures proceeded, 
according to my view, from the first conception of the group. 
The whole position — as forcible as artistical — of the chief 
body was composed with reference to two impulses, — the 
struggle against the snakes, and the flight from the moment- 
ary bite. To soften this pain, the abdomen must be drawn 
in, and shrieking rendered impossible. Thus I also decided 
that the younger son was not bitten, and in other respects 
sought to elicit the artistical merits of this group. I wrote 
a letter on the subject to Oeser, who, however, did not show 
any special esteem for my interpretation, but only replied to 
my goodwill with general terms of encouragement. I was, 
however, fortunate enough to retain that thought, and to 
allow it to repose in me for several years, until it was at last 
annexed to the w T hole body of my experiences and convic- 
tions, in which sense I afterwards gave it in editing my 
" Propylsea." 

After a zealous contemplation of so many sublime plastic 
works, I was not to want a foretaste of antique architecture. 
I found the cast of a capital of the Rotunda, and do not deny, 
that at the sight of those acanthus-leaves, as huge as they 
were elegant, my faith in the Northern architecture began 
somewhat to waver. 

This early sight, although so great and so effective through- 
out my whole life, was nevertheless attended with but small 
results in the time immediately following. I could have 
wished much rather to begin a book, instead of ending one, 
with describing it ; for no sooner was the door of the noble 
saloon closed behind me, than I wished to recover myself 
again, — nay, I endeavored to remove those forms, as being 
burdensome, from my memory : and it was only by a long, 
circuitous route that I was brought back into this sphere. 
However, the quiet fruitfulness of such impressions as are 
received with enjoyment, and without dissecting judgment, is 
quite invaluable. Youth is capable of this highest happiness, 
if it will not be critical, but allows the excellent and the good 
to act upon it without investigation and discrimination. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 97 



TWELFTH BOOK. 



The wanderer had now at last reached home, — more 
healthy and cheerful than on the first occasion, but still in 
his whole being there appeared something over-strained, which 
did not fully indicate mental health. At the very first I put 
my mother into such a position, that, between my father's 
sincere spirit of order and my own various eccentricities, she 
was forced to occupy herself with bringing passing events into 
a certain medium. At Mayence a boy pla}^ing the harp had so 
well pleased me, that, as the fair was close at hand, I invited 
him to Frankfort, and promised to give him lodging and to 
encourage him. In this occurrence appeared once more that 
peculiarity which has cost me so much in my lifetime ; 
namely, that I liked to see younger people gather round me 
and attach themselves to me, by which, indeed, I am at last 
encumbered with their fate. One unpleasant experience 
after another could not reclaim me from this innate impulse, 
which, even at present, and in spite of the clearest convic- 
tion, threatens from time to time to lead me astray. My 
mother, being more clear-sighted than I, plainly foresaw how 
strange it would seem to my father, if a musical fair- vagabond 
went from such a respectable house to taverns and drinking- 
houses to earn his bread. Hence she found him with board 
and lodging in the neighborhood. I recommended him to my 
friends, and thus the lad did not fare badly. After several 
years I saw him again, when he had grown taller and more 
clumsy, without having advanced much in his art. The good 
lady, well contented with this first attempt at squaring and 
hushing up, did not think that this art would immediately 
become completely necessary to her. My father, leading a 
contented life amid his old tastes and occupations, was com- 
fortable, like one, who, in spite of all hinderances and delays, 
carries out his plans. I had now gained my degree, and the 
first step to the further graduating course of citizen-life was 
taken. My " Disputation " had obtained his applause : a fur- 
ther examination of it, and many a preparation for a future 
edition, gave him occupation. During my residence in Alsace, 
I had written many little poems, essays, notes on travel, and 
several loose sheets. He found amusement in bringing these 
under heads, in arranging them, and in devising their comple- 
tion, and was delighted with the expectation that my hitherto 
insuperable dislike to see any of these things printed would 



98 TRUTH AND FICTION 

soon cease. My sister had collected around her a circle of 
intelligent and amiable women. Without being domineering, 
she domineered over all, as her good understanding could 
overlook much, and her good will could often accommodate 
matters ; moreover, she was in the position of playing the 
confidant rather than the rival. Of my older friends and 
companions, I found in Horn the unalterably true friend and 
cheerful associate. I also became intimate with Riese, who 
did not fail to practise and try my acuteness by opposing, 
with a persevering contradiction, doubt and negation to a 
dogmatic enthusiasm into which I too readily fell. Others 
by degrees entered into this circle, whom I shall afterwards 
mention ; but, among the persons who rendered my new resi- 
dence in my native city pleasant and profitable, the brothers 
Schlosser certainly stood at the head. The elder, Hieronymus, 
a profound and elegant jurist, enjoyed universal confidence 
as counsellor. His favorite abode was amongst his books 
and papers, in rooms where the greatest order prevailed : 
there I have never found him otherwise than cheerful and 
sympathizing. In a more numerous society, too, he showed 
himself agreeable and entertaining ; for his mind, by extensive 
reading, was adorned with all the beauty of antiquity. He 
did not, on occasion, disdain to increase the social pleasures 
by agreeable Latin poems ; and I still possess several sportive 
distiches which he wrote under some portraits drawn by me 
of strange and generally known Frankfort caricatures. Often 
I consulted with him as to the course of life and business I 
was now commencing ; and, if an hundred-fold inclinations 
and passions had not torn me from this path, he would have 
been my surest guide. 

Nearer to me, in point of age, was his brother George, who 
had again returned from Treptow, from the service of the 
Duke Eugene of Wiirtemberg. While he had advanced in 
knowledge of the world and in practical talent, he had not re- 
mained behindhand in a survey of German and foreign litera- 
ture. He liked, as before, to write in all languages, but did 
not further excite me in this respect, as I devoted myself 
exclusively to German, and only cultivated other languages 
so far as to enable me, in some measure, to read the best 
authors in the original. His honesty showed itself the same 
as ever ; nay, his acquaintance with the world may have oc- 
casioned him to adhere with more severity and even obstinacy 
to his well-meaning views. 

Through these two friends, I very soon became acquainted 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 99 

with Merck, to whom I had not been unfavorably announced 
by Herder, from Strasburg. This strange man, who had the 
greatest influence on my life, was a native of Darmstadt. Of 
his early education I can say but little. After finishing his 
studies, he conducted a young man to Switzerland, where he 
remained for some time, and came back married. When I 
made his acquaintance, he was military pa} r master at Darm- 
stadt. Born with mind and understanding, he had acquired 
much elegant knowledge, especially in modern literature, and 
had paid attention to all times and places in the history of 
the world and of man. He had the talent of judging with 
certainty and acuteness. He was prized as a thorough, reso- 
lute man of business, and a ready accountant. With ease he 
gained an entrance everywhere, as a very pleasant companion 
for those to whom he had not rendered himself formidable by 
sarcasms. His figure was long and lean ; a sharp, prominent 
nose was remarkable ; light blue, perhaps gray, eyes gave 
something tiger-like to his glance, which wandered attentively 
here and there. Lavater's u Physiognomy ' ' has preserved 
his profile for us. In his character there was a wonderful 
contradiction. By nature a good, noble, upright man, he 
had embittered himself against the world, and allowed this 
morbid whim to sway him to such a degree, that he felt an 
irresistible inclination to be wilfully a rogue, or even a vil- 
lain. Sensible, quiet, kind at one moment, he would the next, 
— just as a snail puts out his horns, — take it into his head 
to do something which might hurt, wound, or even injure, 
another. Yet, as one readily associates with something dan- 
gerous when one believes one's self safe from it, I felt so much 
the greater inclination to live with him, and to enjoy his good 
qualities, since a confident feeling allowed me to suspect that 
he would not turn his bad side towards me. While now, by 
this morally restless mind, by this necessity of treating men 
in a malignant and spiteful way, he on one side destroyed 
social life, another disquiet, which also he very carefully 
fostered within himself, opposed his internal comfort ; namely, 
he felt a certain dilettantish impulse to production, in which 
he indulged the more readily, as he expressed himself easily 
and happily in prose and verse, and might well venture to 
play a part among the beaux-esprits of the time. I myself 
still possess poetical epistles, full of uncommon boldness, 
force, and Swift-like gall, which are highly remarkable from 
their original views of persons and things, but are at the 
same time written with such wounding power, that I could 



100 TRUTH AND FICTION 

not publish them, even at present, but must either destroy 
them, or preserve them for posterity as striking documents of 
the secret discord in our literature. However, the fact, that 
in all his labors he went to work negatively and destructively, 
was unpleasant to himself ; and he often declared that he en- 
vied me that innocent love of setting forth a subject which 
arose from the pleasure I took, both in the original and the 
imitation. 

For the rest, his literary dilettantism would have been 
rather useful than injurious to him, if he had not felt an irre- 
sistible impulse to enter also into the technical and mercantile 
department. For when he once began to curse his faculties, 
and was beside himself that he could not, with sufficient gen- 
ius, satisfy his claims to a practical talent, he gave up now 
plastic art, now poetry, and thought of mercantile and manu- 
f acturmg undertakings*, which were to bring in money while 
they afforded him amusement. 

In Darmstadt there was, besides, a society of very cultivated 
men. Privy Counsellor von Hesse, Minister of the Landgrave, 
Professor Petersen, Rector Wenck, and others, were the natu- 
ralized persons whose worth attracted by turns many neigh- 
bors from other parts, and many travellers through the city. 
The wife of the privy councillor and her sister, Demoiselle 
Flachsland, were ladies of uncommon merit and talents ; the 
latter, who was betrothed to Herder, being doubly interesting 
from her own qualities, and her attachment to so excellent a 
man. 

How much I was animated and advanced by this circle is 
not to be expressed. They liked to hear me read to them my 
works, either completed or begun : they encouraged me, when 
I openly and circumstantially told what I was then planning, 
and blamed me when on every new occasion I laid aside what 
I had already commenced. " Faust " had already advanced ; 
u Gotz von Berlichingen " was gradually building itself up in 
my mind ; the studies of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries 
occupied me ; and the minster had left in me a very serious 
impression, which could well stand as a background to such 
poetical inventions. 

What I had thought and imagined with respect to that 
style of architecture, I wrote in a connected form. The first 
point on which I insisted was, that it should be called Ger- 
man, and not Gothic ; that it should be considered not for- 
eign, but native. The second point was, that it could not 
be compared with the architecture of the Greeks and Ro- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 101 

mans, because it sprang from quite another principle. If 
these, living under a more favorable sky, allowed their roof 
to rest upon columns, a wall, broken through, arose of its 
own accord. We, however, who must always protect our- 
selves against the weather, and everywhere surround our- 
selves with walls, have to revere the genius who discovered 
the means of endowing massive walls with variety, of appar- 
ently breaking them through, and of thus occupying the eye 
in a worthy and pleasing manner on the broad surface. The 
same principle applied to the steeples, which are not, like 
cupolas, to form a heaven within, but to strive towards 
heaven without, and to announce to the countries far around 
the existence of the sanctuary which lies at their base. The 
interior of these venerable piles I only ventured to touch by 
poetical contemplation and a pious tone. 

If I had been pleased to write down these views, the value 
of which I will not deny, clearly and distinctly, in an intel- 
ligible style, the paper " On German Architecture, I : M: 
Ervini a Steinbach," would then, when I published it, have 
produced more effect, and would sooner have drawn the at- 
tention of the native friends of art. But, misled by the 
example of Herder and Ham ami, I obscured these very sim- 
ple thoughts and observations by a dusty cloud of words and 
phrases, and, both for myself and others, darkened the light 
which had arisen within me. However, the paper was well 
received, and reprinted in Herder's work on German manner 
and art. 

Whereas, partly from inclination, partly with poetical and 
other views, I very readily occupied myself with the antiqui- 
ties of my country, and sought to render them present to my 
mind, I was from time to time distracted from this subject 
by biblical studies and religious sympathies ; since Luther's 
life and deeds, which shine forth so magnificently in the six- 
teenth century, always necessarily brought me back to the 
Holy Scriptures, and to the observation of religious feelings 
and opinions. To look upon the Bible as a work of compi- 
lation, which had gradually arisen, and had been elaborated 
at different times, was flattering to my little self-conceit, 
since this view was then by no means predominant, — much 
less was it received in the circle in which I lived. With re- 
spect to the chief sense, I adhered to Luther's expression : 
in matters of detail, I went to Schmidt's literal translation, 
and sought to use my little Hebrew as well as possible. 
That there are contradictions in the Bible, no one will now 

Goethe— 4 Vol k; 



102 TRUTH AND FICTION 

deny. These they tried to reconcile by laying down the 
plainest passage as a foundation, and endeavoring to assimi- 
late to that those that were contradictory and less clear. I, 
on the contrary, wished to find out, by examination, what 
passage best expressed the sense of the matter. To this I 
adhered, and rejected the rest as interpolated. 

For a fundamental opinion had already confirmed itself in 
me, without my being able to say whether it had been im- 
parted to me, or had been excited in me, or had arisen from 
my own reflection. It was this : that in any thing which 
is handed down to us, especially in writing, the real point is 
the ground, the interior, the sense, the tendency of the work ; 
that here lies the original, the divine, the effective, the in- 
tact, the indestructible ; and that no time, no external ope- 
ration or condition, can in any degree affect this internal 
primeval nature, at least no more than the sickness of the 
body affects a well-cultivated soul. Thus, according to my 
view, the language, the dialect, the peculiarity, the style, 
and finally the writing, were to be regarded as the body of 
every work of mind ; this body, although nearly enough akin 
to the internal, was yet exposed to deterioration and corrup- 
tion ; as, indeed, altogether no tradition can be given quite 
pure, according to its nature ; nor, indeed, if one were given 
pure, could it be perfectly intelligible at every following 
period, — the former on account of the insufficiency of the 
organs through which the tradition is made ; the latter on 
account of the difference of time and place, but especially 
the diversity of human capacities and modes of thought ; for 
which reason the interpreters themselves never agree. 

Hence it is everybody's duty to inquire into what is inter- 
nal and peculiar in a book which particularly interests us, 
and at the same time, above all things, to weigh in what 
relation it stands to our own inner nature, and how far, by 
that vitalit}^, our own is excited and rendered fruitful. On 
the other hand, every thing external that is ineffective with 
respect to ourselves, or is subject to a doubt, is to be con- 
signed over to criticism, which, even if it should be able to 
dislocate and dismember the whole, would never succeed in 
depriving us of the only ground to which we hold fast, nor 
even in perplexing us for a moment with respect to our once- 
formed confidence. 

This conviction, sprung from faith and sight, which in all 
cases that we recognize as the most important, is applicable 
and strengthening, lies at the fountain of the moral as well 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 103 

as the literary edifice of my life, and is to be regarded as a 
well-invested and richly productive capital ; although in par- 
ticular cases we may be seduced into making an erroneous 
application. By this notion, the Bible first became really 
accessible to me. I had, as is the case in the religious in- 
struction of Protestants, run through it several times, — nay, 
had made myself acquainted with it, by way of leaps from 
beginning to end and back again. The blunt naturalness of 
the Old Testament, and the tender naivete of the New, had 
attracted me in particular instances : as a whole, indeed, it 
never properly appealed to me ; but now the diverse charac- 
ters of the different books no more perplexed me ; I knew 
how to represent to myself their significance faithfully and 
in proper order, and had too much feeling for the book to 
be ever able to do without it. By this very side of feeling 
I was protected against all scoffing, because I saw its dis- 
honesty at once. I not only detested it, but could even fall 
in a rage about it ; and I still perfectly remember, that, in my 
childishly fanatical zeal, I should have completely throttled 
Voltaire, on account of his " Saul," if I could only have got 
at him. On the other hand, every kind of honest investiga- 
tion pleased me greatly : the revelations as to the locality 
and costume of the East, which diffused more and more light, 
I received with joy, and continued to exercise all my acute- 
ness on such valuable traditions. 

It is known, that, at an earlier period, I tried to initiate my- 
self into the situation of the world, as described to us by the 
first book of Moses. As I now thought to proceed stepwise, 
and in proper order, I seized, after a long interruption, on 
the second book. But what a difference ! Just as the ful- 
ness of childhood had vanished from my life, so did I find 
the second book separated from the first by a monstrous 
chasm. The utter forgetfulness of a by-gone time is already 
expressed in the few important words, " Now there arose a 
new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph." But the 
people also, innumerable as the stars of heaven, had almost 
forgotten the ancestor to whom, under the starry heaven, 
Jehovah had made the very promise which was now fulfilled. 
I worked through the five books with unspeakable trouble 
and insufficient means and powers, and in doing this fell 
upon the strangest notions. I thought I had discovered that 
it was not our Ten Commandments which stood upon the 
tables ; that the Israelites did not wander through the desert 
for forty years, but only for a short time ; and thus I fancied 



104 TRUTH AND MOTION 

that I could give entirely new revelations as to the character 
of Moses. 

Even the New Testament was not safe from my inquiries ; 
with my passion for dissection, I did not spare it : but, with 
love and affection, I chimed in with that wholesome word^ 
" The evangelists may contradict each other, provided only 
the gospel does not contradict itself." In this region also, 
I thought I should make all sorts of discoveries. That gift 
of tongues imparted at Pentecost with lustre and clearness, 
I interpreted for myself in a somewhat abstruse manner, not 
adapted to procure many adherents. 

Into one of the chief Lutheran doctrines, which has been 
still more sharpened by the Hernhutters, — namely, that of 
regarding the sinful principle as predominant in man, — I 
endeavored to accommodate myself, but without remarkable 
success. Nevertheless, I had made the terminology of this 
doctrine tolerably my own, and made use of it in a letter, 
which, in the character of country pastor, I was pleased to 
send to a new brother in office. However, the chief theme 
in the paper was that watchword of the time, called " Tolera- 
tion, " which prevailed among the better order of brains and 
minds. 

Such things, which were produced by degrees, I had 
printed at my own cost in the following year, to try myself 
with the public ; made presents of them, or sent them to 
Eichenberg's shop, in order to get rid of them as fast as 
possible, without deriving any profit myself. Here and there 
a review mentions them, now favorably, now unfavorably ; 
but they soon passed away. My father kept them carefully 
in his ' archives, otherwise I should not have possessed a 
copy of them. I shall add these, as well as some things 
of the kind which I have found, to the new edition of my 
works. 

Since I had really been seduced into the sybilline style of 
such papers, as well as into the publication of them, by 
Hamann, this seems to me a proper place to make mention 
of this worthy and influential man, who was then as great a 
mystery to us as he has always remained to his native coun- 
try. His " Socratic Memorabilia " was more especially liked 
by those persons who could not adapt themselves to the daz- 
zling spirit of the time. It was suspected that he was a 
profound, well-grounded man, who, accurately acquainted 
with the public world and with literature, allowed of some- 
thing mysterious and unfathomable, and expressed himself 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 105 

on this subject in a manner quite his own. By those who 
then ruled the literature of the day, he was indeed consid- 
ered an abstruse mystic ; but an aspiring youth suffered 
themselves to be attracted by him. Even the " Quiet-in- 
the-lands," as they were called, — half in jest, half in ear- 
nest, — those pious souls, who, without professing themselves 
members of any society, formed an invisible church, — turned 
their attention to him ; while to my friend Fraulein von 
Klettenberg, and no less to her friend Moser, the " Magus 
from the North" was a welcome apparition. People put 
themselves the more in connection with him, when they had 
learned that he was tormented by narrow domestic circum- 
stances, but nevertheless understood how to maintain this 
beautiful and lofty mode of thought. With the great influ- 
ence of President von Moser, it would have been easy to 
provide a tolerable and convenient existence for such a 
frugal man. The matter was set on foot ; nay, so good 
an understanding and mutual approval was attained, that 
Hamann undertook the long journey from Konigsberg to 
Darmstadt. But, as the president happened to be absent, 
that odd man, no one knows on what account, returned at 
once ; though a friendly correspondence was kept up. I still 
possess two letters from the Konigsberger to his patron, 
which bear testimony to the wondrous greatness and sin- 
cerity of their author. 

But so good an understanding was not to last long. These 
pious men had thought the other one pious in their own 
fashion : they had treated him with reverence as the ' ' Magus 
of the North," and thought that he would continue to exhibit 
himself with a reverend demeanor. But already in the 
"Clouds," an after-piece of " Socratic Memorabilia," he 
had given some offence ; and when he now published the 
"Crusades of a Philologist," — on the title-page of which 
was to be seen, not only the goat-profile of a horned Pan, 
but also, on one of the first pages, a large cock, cut in wood, 
and setting time to some young cockerels, who stood before 
him with notes in their claws, made an exceedingly ridicu- 
lous appearance, by which certain church-music, of which 
the author did not approve, was to be made a laughing-stock, 
— there arose among well-minded and sensitive people a dis- 
satisfaction, which was exhibited to the author, who, not 
being edified by it, shunned a closer connection. Our inter- 
est in this man was, however, always kept alive by Herder, 
who, remaining in correspondence with us and his betrothed, 



106 TRUTH AND FICTION 

communicated to us at once all that proceeded from that 
extraordinary man. To these belonged his critiques and 
notices, inserted in the " Konigsberg Zeitung," all of which 
bore a very singular character. I possess an almost com- 
plete collection of his works, and a very important essay on 
Herder's prize-paper concerning the origin of language, in 
which, in the most peculiar manner, he throws flashes of 
light upon this specimen of Herder. 

I do not give up the hope of superintending myself, or at 
least furthering, an edition of Hamann's works ; and then, 
when these documents are again before the public, it will 
be time to speak more closely of the author, his nature and 
character. In the mean time, however, I will here adduce 
something concerning him, especially as eminent men are 
still living who felt a great regard for him, and whose assent 
or correction will be very welcome to me. The principle to 
which all Hamann's expressions may be referred is this : 
" All that man undertakes to perform, whether by deed, by 
word, or otherwise, must proceed from all his powers united : 
every thing isolated is worthless.'' A noble maxim, but 
hard to follow. To life and art it may indeed be applied : 
but in every communication by words, that is not exactly 
poetic, there is, on the contrary, a grand difficulty ; for a 
word must sever itself, isolate itself, in order to say or 
signify any thing. Man, while he speaks, must, for the 
moment, become one-sided : there is no communication, no 
instruction, without severing. Now, since Hamann, once 
for all, opposed this separation, and because he felt, ima- 
gined, and thought in unity, chose to speak in unity likewise, 
and to require the same of others, he came into opposition 
with his own style, and with all that others produced. To 
produce the impossible, he therefore grasps at every element : 
the deepest and most mystical contemplations in which nature 
and mind meet each other, — illuminating flashes of the un- 
derstanding which beam forth from such a contact, significant 
images which float in these regions, forcible aphorisms from 
sacred and profane writers, with whatever else of a humor- 
ous kind could be added, — all this forms the w r ondrous 
aggregate of his style and his communications. Now, al- 
though one cannot join him in his depths, cannot wander 
with him on his heights, cannot master the forms which float 
before him, cannot from an infinitely extended literature 
exactly find out the sense of a passage which is only hinted 
at, we find, that, the more we study him, the more dim and 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 107 

dark it becomes ; and this darkness always increases with 
years, because his allusions were directed to certain definite 
peculiarities which prevailed for the moment in life and in 
literature. In my collection there are some of his printed 
sheets, where he has cited with his own hand, in the margin, 
the passages to which his hints refer. If one opens them, 
there is again a sort of equivocal double light, which appears 
to us highly agreeable : only one must completely renounce 
what is ordinarily called understanding. Such leaves merit 
to be called sybilline, for this reason : that one cannot con- 
sider them in and for themselves, but must wait for an 
opportunity to seek refuge with their oracles. Every time 
that one opens them, one fancies one has found something 
new ; because the sense which abides in every passage 
touches and excites us in a curious manner. 

I never saw him, nor did I hold any immediate communi- 
cation with him by correspondence. It seems to me that he 
was extremely clear in the relations of life and friendship, 
and that he had a correct feeling for the positions of per- 
sons among each other, and with reference to himself. 
Whatever letters of his I saw were excellent, and much 
plainer than his works, because here the reference to time, 
circumstances, and personal affairs was more clearly promi- 
nent. I thought, however, that I could discern this much 
generally, that he, feeling the superiority of his mental 
gifts, in the most naive manner, always considered himself 
somewhat wiser and more shrew^d than his correspondents, 
whom he treated rather ironically than heartily. If this 
held good only of single cases, it applied to the majority, 
as far as my own observation went, and w r as the cause that 
I never felt a desire to approach him. 

On the other hand, a kindly literary communication be- 
tween Herder and us was maintained with great vivacity ; 
though it was a pity that he could not keep himself quiet. 
But Herder never left off his teasing and scolding ; and much 
was not required to irritate Merck, who also contrived to 
excite me to impatience. Because Herder, among all authors 
and men, seemed to respect Swift most, he was among us 
called the " Dean ; " and this gave further occasion to all 
sorts of perplexities and annoyances. 

Nevertheless, we were highly pleased when we learned that 
he was to have an appointment at Biickeburg, which would 
bring him double honor ; for his new patron had the highest 
fame as a clear-headed and brave, though eccentric, man. 



108 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Thomas Abbt had been known and celebrated in this ser- 
vice : his country still mourned his death, and was pleased 
with the monument which his patron had erected for him. 
Now Herder, in the place of the untimely deceased, was to 
fulfil all those hopes which his predecessor had so worthily 
excited. 

The epoch in which this happened gave a double brilliancy 
and value to such an appointment ; for several German 
princes already followed the example of the Count of Lippe, 
inasmuch as they took into their service, not merely learned 
men, and men of business, properly so called, but also per- 
sons of mind and promise. Thus, it was said, Klopstock 
had been invited by the Margrave Charles of Baden, not 
for real business, but that by his presence he might impart 
a grace and be useful to the higher society. As now the 
regard felt for this excellent prince, who paid attention to 
all that was useful and beautiful, increased in consequence ; 
so also was the veneration for Klopstock not a little height- 
ened. Every thing that emanated from him was held dear 
and valuable, and we carefully wrote down his odes and 
elegies as we could get them. We were therefore highly 
delighted when the great Landgravine Caroline of Hesse- 
Darmstadt made a collection of them ; and we obtained 
possession of one of the few copies, which enabled us to 
complete our own manuscript collection. Hence those first 
readings have long been most in favor with us, — nay, we 
have often refreshed and delighted ourselves with poems 
which the author afterwards rejected. So true it is, that 
the life which presses forth out of a " fine soul ' ' works 
with the greater freedom the less it appears to be drawn b}' 
criticism into the department of art. 

Klopstock, by his character and conduct, had managed to 
attain regard and dignity, both for himself and for other 
men of talent ; now they were also, if possible, to be in- 
debted to him for the security and improvement of their 
domestic condition. For the book-trade, in the previous pe- 
riod, had more to do with important scientific books, belong- 
ing to the different faculties — with stock- works, for which 
a moderate remuneration was paid. But the production of 
poetical works was looked upon as something sacred, and in 
this case the acceptance or increase of any remuneration 
would have been regarded almost as simony. Authors and 
publishers stood in the strangest reciprocal position. Both 
appeared, accordingly as it was taken, as patrons and clients. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 100 

The authors, who, irrespectively of their talent, were gener- 
ally respected and revered by the public as highly moral 
men, had a mental rank, and felt themselves rewarded by 
the success of their labors : the publishers were well satisfied 
with the second place, and enjoyed a considerable profit. 
But now opulence again set the rich bookseller above the 
poor poet, and thus every thing stood in the most beautiful 
equilibrium. Magnanimity and gratitude were not unfre- 
quent on either side. Breitkopf and Gottsched lived, all 
their lives, as inmates of the same house. Stinginess and 
meanness, especially that of piracy, were not yet in vogue. 

Nevertheless, a general commotion had arisen among the 
German authors. They compared their own very moderate, 
if not poor, condition, with the wealth of the eminent book- 
sellers : they considered how great was the fame of a Gellert, 
of a Rabener, and in what narrow domestic circumstances 
a universally esteemed German poet must struggle on, if he 
did not render life easy by some other calling. Even the 
mediocre and lesser minds felt a strong desire to see their 
situation improved, — to make themselves free of the pub- 
lishers. 

Now Klopstock came forward, and offered his "Republic 
of Letters " ( u Gelehrten-Republik ' ' ) for subscription. Al- 
though the latter cantos of " The Messiah," partly on account 
of their subject, partly on account of the treatment, could not 
produce the same effect as the earlier ones, which, themselves 
pure and innocent, came into a pure and innocent time, the 
same respect was always maintained for the poet, who, by 
the publication of his odes, had drawn to himself the hearts, 
minds, and feelings of many persons. Many well-thinking 
men, among whom were several of great influence, offered 
to secure payment beforehand. This was fixed at a Louis 
cVor, the object being, it was said, not so much to pay for 
the book, as on this occasion to reward the author for his 
services to his country. Now everj r one pressed forward : 
even youths and young girls, who had not much to expend, 
opened their saving-boxes ; men and women, the higher and 
the middle classes, contributed to this holy offering ; and 
perhaps a thousand subscribers, all paying in advance, were 
collected. Expectation was raised to the highest pitch, and 
confidence was as great as possible. 

After this, the work, on its appearance, was to experi- 
ence the strangest result in the world : it was, indeed, of 
important value, but by no means universally interesting- 



110 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Klopstock's thoughts on poetry and literature were set forth 
in the form of an old German Druidicai republic : his maxims 
on the true and false were expressed in pithy, laconic aph- 
orisms, in which, however, much that was instructive was 
sacrificed to the singularity of form. For authors and littera- 
teurs, the book was and is invaluable ; but it was only in this 
circle that it could be useful and effective. Whoever had him- 
self been thinking followed the thinker ; he who knew how 
to seek and prize what was genuine, found himself instructed 
by the profound, honest man ; but the amateur, the general 
reader, was not enlightened, — to him the book remained 
sealed ; and }^et it had been placed in all hands ; and, while 
every one expected a perfectly serviceable work, most of 
them obtained one from which they could not get the small- 
est taste. The astonishment was general ; but the esteem 
for the man was so great, that no grumbling, scarcely a 
murmur, arose. The young and beautiful part of the world 
got over their loss, and now freely gave away the copies 
they had so dearly purchased. I received several from kind 
female friends, but none of them have remained with me. 

This undertaking, which was successful to the author, but 
a failure to the public, had the ill consequence, that there 
was now no further thought about subscriptions and prepay- 
ments ; nevertheless, the wish had been too generally diffused 
for the attempt not to be renewed. The Dessau publishing- 
house now offered to do this on a large scale. Learned men 
and publishers were here, by a close compact, to enjoy, both 
in a certain proportion, the hoped-for advantage. The neces- 
sity, so long painfully felt, again awakened a great confi- 
dence ; but this could not last long : and, after a brief en- 
deavor, the parties separated, with a loss on both sides. 

However, a speedy communication among the friends of 
literature was already introduced. The Musenalmanache x 
united all the young poets with each other : the journals 
united the poet with other authors. The pleasure I found 
in production was boundless ; to what I had produced I 
remained indifferent ; only when, in social circles, I made it 
present to myself and others, my affection for it was re- 
newed. Moreover, many persons took an interest in both 
my larger and smaller works, because I urgently pressed 
every one who felt in any degree inclined and adapted to 
production, to produce something independently, after his 
own fashion, and was, in turn, challenged by all to new 

1 Annual publications devoted to poetry oniy. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. Ill 

poetizing and writing. These mutual impulses, which were 
carried even to an extreme, gave every one a happy influence 
in his own fashion : and from this whirling and working, this 
living and letting-live, this taking and giving, which was 
carried on by so many youths, from their own free hearts, 
without any theoretical guiding-star, according to the innate 
character of each, and without any special design, arose that 
famed, extolled, and decried epoch in literature, when a 
mass of young, genial men, with all that audacity and as- 
sumption such as are peculiar to their own period of }^outh, 
produced, by the application of their powers, much that was 
good, and, by the abuse of these, much ill-feeling and mischief ; 
and it is, indeed, the action and re-action which proceeded 
from this source, that form the chief theme of this volume. 

In what can young people take the highest interest, how 
are they to excite interest among those of their own age, if 
they are not animated by love, and if affairs of the heart, 
of whatever kind they may be, are not living within them? 
I had in secret to complain of a love I had lost : this made 
me mild and tolerant, and more agreeable to society than in 
those brilliant times when nothing reminded me of a want 
or a fault, and I went storming along completely without 
restraint. 

Frederica's answer to my farewell letter rent my heart. 
It was the same hand, the same tone of thought, the same 
feeling, which had formed itself for me and by me. I now, 
for the first time, felt the loss which she suffered, and saw 
no means to supply it, or even to alleviate it. She was com- 
pletely present to me ; I always felt that she was wanting to 
me ; and, what was worst of all, I could not forgive myself 
for my own misfortune. Gretchen had been taken away 
from me ; Annette had left me ; now, for the first time, I 
was guilty. I had wounded the most lovely heart to its very 
depths ; and the period of a gloomy repentance, with the 
absence of a refreshing love, to which I had grown accus- 
tomed, was most agonizing, nay, insupportable. But man 
wishes to live, and hence I took an honest interest in others : 
I sought to disentangle their embarrassments, and to unite 
what was about to part, that they might not have the same 
lot as myself. They were hence accustomed to call me the 
''confidant," and, on account of wandering about the dis- 
trict, the "wanderer." For producing that peace of mind, 
which I felt beneath the open sky, in the valleys, on the 
heights, in the fields and in the woods, the situation of 



112 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Frankfort was serviceable, as it lay in the middle between 
Darmstadt and Hamborg, two pleasant places, which are on 
good terms with each other, through the relationship of both 
courts. I accustomed myself to live on the road, and, like 
a messenger, to wander about between the mountains and 
the flat country. Often I went alone, or in company, 
through my native city, as if it did not at all concern me, 
dined at one of the great inns in the High-street, and, after 
dinner, went farther on my way. More than ever was I 
directed to the open world and to free nature. On my way 
I sang to myself strange hymns and dithyrambics, of which 
one, entitled " The Wanderer's Storm-song " (" Wanderer's 
Sturmlied ") , still remains. This half -nonsense I sang aloud, 
in an impassioned manner, when I found myself in a terrific 
storm, which I was obliged to meet. 

My heart was untouched and unoccupied : I conscientiously 
avoided all closer connection with women ; and thus it re- 
mained concealed from me, that, inattentive and unconscious 
as I was, an amiable spirit was secretly hovering round me. 
It was not until many years afterwards, nay, until after her 
death, that I learned of her secret, heavenly love, in a manner 
that necessarily overwhelmed me. But I was innocent, and 
could purely and honestly pity an innocent being ; nay, I 
could do this the more, as the discover}' occurred at an epoch 
when, completely without passion, I had the happiness of 
living for myself and my own intellectual inclinations. 

At the time when I was pained by my grief at Frederica's 
situation, I again, after my old fashion, sought aid from 
poetry. I again continued the poetical confession which 
I had commenced, that, by this self -tormenting penance, I 
might be worthy of an internal absolution. The two Marias 
in " Gotz von Berlichingen " and u Clavigo," and the two 
bad characters who act the parts of their lovers, may have 
been the results of such penitent reflections. 

But as in youth one soon gets over injuries and diseases, 
because a healthy system of organic life can supplant a sick 
one, and allow it time to grow healthy again, corporeal exer- 
cises, on many a favorable opportunity, came forward with 
very advantageous effect ; and I was excited in many ways 
to man myself afresh, and to seek new pleasures of life and 
enjoyments. Riding gradually took the place of those saun- 
tering, melancholy, toilsome, and, at the same time, tedious 
and aimless, rambles on foot : one reached one's end more 
quickly, merrily, and commodiously. The young people 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 113 

again introduced fencing ; but in particular, on the setting- 
in of winter, a new world was revealed to us, since I at once 
determined to skate, — an exercise which I had never at- 
tempted, — and, in a short time, by practice, reflection, and 
perseverance, brought it as far as was necessary to enjoy 
with others a gay, animated course on the ice, without wish- 
ing to distinguish myself. 

For this new joyous activity we were also indebted to 
Klopstock, — to his enthusiasm for this happy species of 
motion, which private accounts confirmed, while his odes 
gave an undeniable evidence of it. I still exactly remember, 
that on a cheerful, frosty morning, I sprang out of bed, and 
uttered aloud these passages : — 

" Already, glad with feeling of health, 
Far down along the shore, I have whitened 
The covering crystal. 

How softly winter's growing day 
Lights up the lake, while glittering frost 
Night has upon it spread like stars." 

My hesitating and wavering resolution was fixed at once, 
and I flew straight to the place where so old a beginner 
might with some degree of propriety make his first trial. 
And, indeed, this manifestation of our strength well deserved 
to be commended by Klopstock ; for it is an exercise which 
brings us into contact with the freshest childhood, summons 
the youth to the full enjoyment of his suppleness, and is 
fitted to keep off a stagnant old age. We were immoder- 
ately addicted to this pleasure. To pass thus a splendid 
Sunday on the ice did not satisfy us : we continued our move- 
ment late into the night. For as other exertions fatigue the 
body, so does this give it a constantly new power. The full 
moon rising from the clouds, over the wide nocturnal mead- 
ows, which were frozen into fields of ice ; the night-breeze, 
which rustled towards us on our course ; the solemn thunder 
of the ice, which sank as the water decreased ; the strange 
echo of our own movements, — rendered the scenes of Ossian 
just present to our minds. Now this friend, now that, uttered 
an ode of Klopstock' s in a declamatory recitative ; and, if we 
found ourselves together at dawn, the unfeigned praise of 
the author of our joys broke forth : — 

" And should he not be immortal, 
Who such health and pleasures for us did find, 
As the horse, though bold in his course, never gave, 
And as even the ball is without ? " 



114 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Such gratitude is earned by a man who knows how to 
honor and worthily extend an earthly act by spiritual incite- 
ment. 

And thus, as children of talent, whose mental gifts have, 
at an early period, been cultivated to an extraordinary de- 
gree, return, if they can, to the simplest sports of youth, 
did we, too, often forget our calling to more serious things. 
Nevertheless, this very motion, so often carried on in solitude, 
— this agreeable soaring in undetermined space, — again ex- 
cited many of my internal wants, which had, for a time, lain 
dormant ; and I have been indebted to such hours for a more 
speedy elaboration of older plans. 

The darker ages of German history had always occupied 
my desire for knowledge and my imagination. The thought 
of dramatizing " Gotz von Berlichingen," with all the cir- 
cumstances of his time, was one which I much liked and 
valued. I industriously read the chief authors : to Datt's 
work, " De Pace Publica," I devoted all my attention ; I had 
sedulously studied it through, and rendered those singular de- 
tails as visible to me as possible. These endeavors, which 
were directed to moral and poetical ends, I could also use in 
another direction ; and I was now to visit Wetzlar. I had 
sufficient historical preparation ; for the Imperial Chamber 
had arisen in consequence of the public tranquillity, and its 
history could serve as an important clew through the confused 
events of Germany. Indeed, the constitution of the courts 
and armies gives the most accurate insight into the constitu- 
tion of every empire. Even the finances, the influence of 
which are considered so important, come much less under 
consideration ; for, if the whole is deficient, it is only neces- 
sary to take from the individual what he has laboriously 
scraped together : and thus the state is always sufficiently 
rich. 

What occurred to me at Wetzlar is of no great importance ; 
but it may inspire a greater interest, if the reader will not 
disdain a cursory history of the Imperial Chamber, in order 
to render present to his mind the unfavorable moment at 
which I arrived there. 

The lords of the earth are such, principally because they 
can assemble around them, in war, the bravest and most res- 
olute, and, in peace, the wisest and most just. Even to the 
state of a German emperor belonged a court of this kind, 
which always accompanied him in his expeditions through 
the empire. But neither this precaution, nor the Suabian 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 115 

lav, which prevailed in the South of Germany, nor the 
Saxon law, which prevailed in the North, — neither the judges 
appointed to maintain them, nor the decisions of the peers 
of the contending parties, — neither the umpires recognized 
by agreement, nor friendly compacts instituted by the clergy, 
— nothing, in short, could quiet that excited chivalric spirit 
of feuds which had been roused, fostered, and made a cus- 
tom among the Germans, by internal discord, by foreign 
campaigns, by the crusades especially, and even by judicial 
usages. To the emperor as well as to the powerful estates, 
these squabbles were extremely annoying ; while through 
them, the less powerful became troublesome to each other, 
and, if they combined, to the great also. All outward 
strength was paralyzed, while internal order was destroyed ; 
and, besides this, a great part of the country was still encum- 
bered with the Vehmgericht, of the horrors of w T hich a notion 
may be formed, if we think that it degenerated into a secret 
police, which at last even fell into the hands of private 
persons. 

Many attempts to steer against these evils had been made 
in vain, until at last the estates urgently proposed a court 
formed from among themselves. This proposal, well-meant 
as it might have been, nevertheless indicated an extension of 
the privileges of the estates, and a limitation of the imperial 
power. Under Frederick III. the matter is delayed : his son 
Maximilian, being pressed from without, complies. He ap- 
points the chief judge, the estates send the assistants. There 
were to be four and twenty of them, but at first twelve are 
thought sufficient. 

A universal fault, of which men are guilty in their under- 
takings, was the first and perpetual fundamental defect of the 
Imperial Chamber : insufficient means were applied to a great 
end., The number of the assessors was too small. How 
was the difficult and extensive problem to be solved hy them ? 
But who could urge an efficient arrangement ? The emperor 
could not favor an institution which seemed to work more 
against him than for him : far more reason had he to com- 
plete the formation of his own court, — his own council. If, 
on the other hand, we regard the interest of the estates, all 
that they could properly have to do with was the stoppage of 
bloodshed. Whether the wound was healed, did not so much 
concern them ; and now there was to be, besides, a new ex- 
pense. It may not have been quite plainly seen, that, by this 
institution, every prince increased his retinue, for a decided 



116 TRUTH AND FICTION 

end indeed, — but who readily gives money for what is neces- 
sary ? Every one would be satisfied if he could have what 
is useful " for God's sake." 

At first the assistants were to live by fees ; then followed 
a moderate grant from the estates : both were scanty. But, 
to meet the great and striking exigency, willing, clever, and 
industrious men were found ; and the court was established. 
Whether it was perceived that the question here was con- 
cerning only the alleviation and not the cure of the evil, or 
whether, as in similar cases, the flattering hope was enter- 
tained that much was to be done with little, is not to be de- 
cided. It is enough that the court served rather as a pretext 
to punish the originators of mischief, than completely to 
prevent wrong. But it has scarcely met, than a power grows 
out of itself : it feels the eminence on which it is placed ; it 
recognizes its own great political importance. It now en- 
deavors, by a striking activity, to acquire for itself a more 
decided respect : they briskly get through what can and must 
be rapidly despatched, what can be decided at the moment, or 
what can otherwise be easily judged ; and thus, throughout 
the empire, they appear effective and dignified. On the other 
hand, matters of weightier import, the law-suits properly so 
called, remained behindhand; and this was no misfortune. 
The only concern of the state is, that possession shall be 
certain and secure : whether it is also legal, is of less conse- 
quence. Hence, from the monstrous and ever-swelling num- 
ber of delayed suits, no mischief arose to the empire. Against 
people who employed force, provision was already made, and 
with such matters could be settled : but those, on the other 
hand, who legally disputed about possession, lived, enjoyed, 
or starved, as they could ; they died, were ruined, or made it 
up ; but all this was the good or evil of individual families, — 
the empire was gradually tranquillized. For the Imperial 
Chamber was endowed with a legal club-law against the diso- 
bedient : had it been able to hurl the bolt of excommunica- 
tion, this would have been more effective. 

But now, what with the number of assessors, which was 
sometimes increased, sometimes diminished ; what with the 
many interruptions ; what with the removal of the court from 
one place to another, — these arrears, these records, necessa- 
rily increased to an infinite extent. Now, in the distress of 
war, a part of the archives was sent for safety from Spire to 
Aschaffenburg; a part to Worms; the third fell into the hands 
of the French, who thought they had gained the state-archives, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE- 117 

but would afterwards have been glad to get rid of such a 
chaos of paper, if any one would but have furnished the car- 
riages. 

During the negotiations for the peace of Westphalia, the 
chosen men, who were assembled, plainly saw what sort of a 
lever was required to move from its place a load like that of 
Sisyphus. Fifty assessors were now to be appointed, but the 
number was never made up ; the half of it was again made to 
suffice, because the expense appeared too great ; but, if the 
parties interested had all seen their advantage in the matter, 
the whole might well have been afforded. To pay five and 
twenty assessors about one hundred thousand florins (gulden) 
were required, and how easily could double that amount have 
been raised in Germany ? The proposition to endow the Im- 
perial Chamber with confiscated church property could not 
pass, for how could the two religious parties agree to such 
a sacrifice ? The Catholics were not willing to lose any more ; 
and the Protestants wished to employ what they had gained, 
each for his own private ends. The division of the empire 
into two religious parties had here, in several respects, the 
worst influence. The interest which the estates took in this 
their court diminished more and more ; the more powerful 
wished to free themselves from the confederation ; licenses 
exempting their possessor from being prosecuted before any 
higher tribunal were sought with more and more eagerness ; 
the greater kept back with their payments ; while the lesser, 
who, moreover, believed themselves wronged in the estimates, 
delayed as long as they could. 

How difficult was it, therefore, to raise the supplies neces- 
sary for payment. Hence arose a new occupation, a new loss 
of time for the chamber : previously the so-called annual 
" visitations " had taken care of this matter. Princes in 
person, or their councillors, went only for months or weeks 
to the place of the court, examined the state of the treasury, 
investigated the arrears, and undertook to get them in. At 
the same time, if any thing was about to create an impedi- 
ment in the course of law or the court, or any abuse to creep 
in, they were authorized to provide a remedy. The faults 
of the institution they were to discover and remove, but it 
was not till afterwards that the investigation and punishment 
of the personal crimes of its members became a part of their 
duty. But because parties engaged in litigation always like 
to extend their hopes a moment longer, and on this account 
always seek and appeal to higher authorities, so did these 



118 TRUTH AND FICTION 

" visitators " become a court of revision, from which at first, 
in determined manifest cases, persons hoped to find restitu- 
tion, but at last, in all cases, delay and perpetuation of the 
controversy, to which the appeal to the imperial diet, and 
the endeavor of the two religious parties, if not to outweigh 
each other, at any rate to preserve an equilibrium, contributed 
their part. 

But if one considers what this court might have been with- 
out such obstacles, without such disturbing and destructive 
conditions, one cannot imagine it remarkable and important 
enough. Had it been supplied at the beginning with a suffi- 
cient number of persons, had a sufficient support been secured 
to them, the monstrous influence which this body. might have 
attained, considering the aptness of the Germans, would have 
been immeasurable. The honorable title of "Amphictyons," 
which was only bestowed on them oratorically, they would 
actually have deserved, — na} T , they might have elevated them- 
selves into an intermediate power, while revered by the head 
and the members. 

But, far removed from such great effects, the court, except- 
ing for a short time under Charles V. and before the Thirty 
Years' War, dragged itself miserably along. One often can- 
not understand how men could be found for such a thankless 
and melancholy emplo3?ment. But what a man does every 
day he puts up with, if he has any talent for it, even if he 
does not exactly see that any thing will come of it. The 
German, especially, is of this persevering turn of mind ; and 
thus for three hundred years the worthiest men have em- 
ployed themselves on these labors and objects. A charac- 
teristic gallery of such figures would even now excite interest 
and inspire courage. 

For it is just in such anarchical times that the able man 
takes the strongest position, and he who desires what is 
good finds himself right in his place. Thus, for instance, 
the Directorium of Fiirstenberg was still held in blessed 
memory ; and with the death of this excellent man begins the 
epoch of many pernicious abuses. 

But all these defects, whether later or earlier, arose from 
one only original source, — the small number of persons. It 
was decreed that the assistants were to act in a fixed order, 
and according to a determined arrangement. Every one 
could know when the turn would come to him, and which of 
the cases belonging to him it would affect : he could work up 
to this point, — he could prepare himself. But now the in- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 119 

numerable arrears had heaped themselves up ; and they were 
forced to resolve to select the more important cases, and to 
deal with them out of order. But, with a pressure of impor- 
tant affairs, the decision as to which matter has the more 
weight is difficult ; and selection leaves room for favor. 
Now another critical case occurred. The referent tormented 
both himself and the court with a difficult, involved affair ; 
and at last no one was found willing to take up the judgment. 
The parties had come to an agreement, had separated, had 
died, had changed their minds. Hence they resolved to 
take in hand only the cases of which they were reminded. 
They wished to be convinced of the continued persistency of 
the parties, and hence was given an introduction to the great- 
est defects : for he who commends his affairs must commend 
them to somebody ; and to whom can one commend them bet- 
ter than to him who has them already in his hands ? To 
keep this one regularly secret was impossible ; for how could 
he remain concealed with so many subordinates, all acquainted 
with the matter ? If acceleration is requested, favor may well 
be requested likewise ; for the very fact that people urge their 
cause shows that they consider it just. This will, perhaps, 
not be done in a direct manner : certainly it will be first done 
through subordinates ; these must be gained over, and thus 
an introduction is given to all sorts of intrigues and briberies. 
The Emperor Joseph, following his own impulse, and in 
imitation of Frederick, first directed his attention to arms and 
the administration of justice. He cast his eyes upon the 
Imperial Chamber : traditional wrongs, introduced abuses, 
had not remained unknown to him. Even here something 
was to be stirred up, shaken, and done. Without inquiring 
whether it was his imperial right, without foreseeing the pos^ 
sibility of a happy result, he proposed a revival of the "visi- 
tation," and hastened its opening. For one hundred and 
sixty years no regular * k visitation ' ' had taken place : a mon- 
strous chaos of papers lay swelled up and increased every 
year, since the seventeen assessors were not even able to 
despatch the current business. Twenty thousand cases had 
been heaped up : sixty could be settled every year, and double 
that number was brought forward. Besides, it was not a 
small number of revisions that awaited the " visitators : " 
they were estimated at fifty thousand. Many other abuses, 
in addition to this, hindered the course of justice ; but the 
most critical matter of all was the personal delinquency of 
some assessors, which appeared in the background. 



120 TRUTH AND FICTION 

When I was about to go to Wetzlar, the " visitation " had 
been already for some years in operation, the parties accused 
had been suspended from office, the investigation had been 
carried a long way ; and, because the masters and commis- 
sioners of German political law could not let pass this oppor- 
tunity of exhibiting their sagacity and devoting it to the 
commonweal, several profound, well-designed works appeared, 
from which every one who possessed only some preparatory 
knowledge could derive solid instruction. When, on this occa- 
sion, the}' went back into the constitution of the empire and 
the books written upon it, it was striking to me how the mon- 
strous condition of this thoroughly diseased body, which was 
kept alive by a miracle alone, was the very thing that most 
suited the learned. For the venerable German industry, 
which was more directed to the collection and development of 
details than to results, found here an inexhaustible impulse 
to new employment ; and whether the empire was opposed 
to the emperor, the lesser to the greater estates, or the 
Catholics to the Protestants, there was necessarily always, 
according to the diversity of interest, a diversity of opin- 
ion, and always an occasion for new contests and contro- 
versies. 

Since I had rendered all these older and newer circum- 
stances as present to my mind as possible, it was impossible 
for me to promise myself much pleasure from my abode at 
Wetzlar. The prospect of finding in a city, which was 
indeed well situated, but small and ill built, a double world, — 
first the domestic, old traditional world, then a foreign new 
one, authorized to scrutinize the other with severity, — a 
judging and a judged tribunal ; many an inhabitant in fear 
and anxiety, lest he might also be drawn into the impending 
investigation ; persons of consideration, long held in respect, 
convicted of the most scandalous misdeeds, and marked out 
for disgraceful punishment , — all this together made the 
most dismal picture, and could not lure me to go deeper into 
a business, which, involved in itself, seemed" so much per- 
plexed by wrong. 

That, excepting the German civil and public law, I should 
find nothing remarkable in the scientific way, that I should 
be without all poetical communication, I thought I could fore- 
see, when, after some delay, the desire of altering my situation 
more than impulse to knowledge led to me to this spot. But 
how surprised I was, when, instead of a crabbed society, a 
third academical life sprang towards me. At a large table- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 121 

d'hote I. found a number of young, lively people, nearly all 
subordinates to the commission : they gave me a friendly re- 
ception ; and the very first day it remained no secret to me, 
that they had cheered their noon-meetings by a romantic 
fiction. With much wit and cheerfulness they represented a 
table of knights. At the top sat the grand-master, by his 
side the chancellor, then the most important officers of the 
state ; now followed the knights, according to their seniority. 
Strangers, on the other hand, who visited, were forced to be 
content with the lowest places ; and to these the conversation 
was almost unintelligible, because the language of the society, 
in addition to the chivalric expressions, was enriched with 
many allusions. To every one a name with an epithet was 
assigned. Me they called " Gotz von Berlichingen the 
honest." The former I earned by the attention to the gallant 
German patriarch, the latter by my upright affection and 
devotion for the eminent men with whom I became acquainted. 
To the Count von Kielmannsegg I was much indebted during 
this residence. He was the most serious of all, highly clever, 
and to be relied on. There was Yon Goue, a man hard to 
be deciphered and described, a blunt, kind, quietly reserved 
Hanoverian figure. He was not wanting in talent of various 
kinds. It was conjectured concerning him that he was a 
natural son : he loved, besides, a certain mysterious deport- 
ment, and concealed his most peculiar wishes and plans under 
various eccentricities ; as indeed he was, properly speaking, 
the very soul of the odd confederation of knights, without 
having striven to attain the post of grand-master. On the 
contrary, when, just at this time, the head of the knighthood 
departed, he caused another to be elected, and through him 
exercised his influence. Thus he managed so to direct several 
little trifles, that they appeared of importance, and could be 
carried out in mythical forms. But with all this no serious 
purpose could be remarked in him : he was only concerned 
to get rid of the tedium which he and his colleagues, during 
their protracted occupation, necessarily felt, and to fill up the 
empty space, if only with cobwebs. For the rest, this myth- 
ical caricature was carried on with great external seriousness ; 
and no one found it ridiculous if a certain mill was treated 
as a castle, and the miller as lord of the fortress, if " The 
Four Sons of Haimon " was declared a canonical book, 
and, on the occasion of ceremonies, extracts from it were 
read with veneration. The dubbing of knights took place 
with traditional symbols, borrowed from several orders of 



122 TRUTH AND FICTION 

knighthood. A chief motive for jest was the fact, that what 
was manifest was treated as a secret : the affair was carried 
on publicly, and yet nothing was to be said about it. The 
list of the whole body of knights was printed with as much 
importance as a calendar of the imperial diet : and if families 
ventured to scoff at this, and to declare the whole matter 
absurd and ridiculous, they were punished by an intrigue 
being carried on until a solemn husband or near relation was 
induced to join the company and to be dubbed a knight ; for 
then there was a splendid burst of malicious joy at the annoy- 
ance of the connections. 

Into this chivalric state of existence another strange order 
had insinuated itself, which was to be philosophical and mys- 
tical, and had no name of its own. The first degree was 
called the " Transition," the second the " Transition's trans- 
ition," the third the " Transition's transition to the trans- 
ition," and the fourth the "Transition's transition to the 
transition's transition." To interpret the high sense of this 
series of degrees was now the duty of the initiated ; and 
this was done according to the standard of a little printed 
book, in which these strange words were explained, or rather 
amplified, in a manner still more strange. Occupation with 
these things was the most desirable pastime. The folly of 
Behrisch and the perversity of Lenz seemed here to have 
united : I only repeat, that not a trace of purpose was to be 
found behind these veils. 

Although I very readily took part in such fooleries, had 
first brought into order the extracts from " The Four Sons of 
Haimon," made proposals how they should be read on feasts 
and solemn occasions, and even understood how to deliver 
them myself with great emphasis, I had, nevertheless, grown 
weary of such things before ; and therefore, as I missed my 
Frankfort and Darmstadt circles, I was highly pleased to have 
found Gotter, who attached himself to me with honest affec- 
tion, and to whom I showed in return a hearty good will. 
His turn of mind was delicate, clear, and cheerful ; his talents 
were practised and well regulated ; he aimed at French ele- 
gance, and was pleased with that part of English literature 
which is occupied with moral and agreeable subjects. We 
passed together many pleasant hoars, in which we communi- 
cated to each other our knowledge, plans, and inclinations. 
He excited me to many little works, especially as, being in 
connection with the people of Gottingen, he desired some of 
my poems for Boie's " Almanach." 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 123 

I thus came into contact with those, who, young and full of 
talent, held themselves together, and afterwards effected so 
much and in such various ways. The two Counts Stolberg, 
Burger, Voss, Holty, and others were assembled in faith and 
spirit around Klopstock, whose influence extended in every 
direction. In such a poetical circle, which became more and 
more extended, was developed, at the same time with such 
manifold poetical merits, another turn of mind, to which I 
can give no exactly proper name. It might be called the 
need of independence, which always arises in time of peace, 
and exactly when, properly speaking, one is not dependent. 
In war we bear the rude force as well as we can ; we feel our- 
selves physically and economically, but not morally, wounded ; 
the constraint shames no one, and it is no disgraceful service 
to serve the time ; we accustom ourselves to suffer from foes 
and friends ; we have wishes, but no particular views. In 
peace, on the contrary, man's love of freedom becomes more 
and more prominent ; and the more free one is, the more free 
one wishes to be. We will not tolerate any thing over us ; 
we will not be restrained, no one shall be restrained ; and 
this tender, nay, morbid, feeling, appears in noble souls under 
the form of justice. This spirit and feeling then showed 
itself everywhere : and, just because few were oppressed, it 
was wished to free even these from temporary oppression ; 
and thus arose a certain moral feud, a mixture of individuals 
with the government, which, with laudable beginnings, led to 
inevitably unfortunate results. 

Voltaire, by the protection which he had bestowed on the 
family of Calas, had excited great attention and made him- 
self respected. In Germany the attempt of Lavater against 
the Landvogt (sheriff of the province) had been almost more 
striking and important. The sesthetical feeling, united with 
youthful courage, strove forward ; and as, shortly before, per- 
sons had studied to obtain offices, they now began to act as 
overlookers of those in office : and the time was near when 
the dramatist and novelist loved best to seek their villains 
among ministers and official persons. Hence arose a world, 
half real, half imaginary, of action and re-action, in which 
we afterwards lived to see the most violent imputations and 
instigations, in which the writers of periodical publications 
and journals with a sort of passion indulged under the garb 
of justice, went to work the more irresistibly, as they made 
the public believe that it was itself the true tribunal, — 
a foolish notion, as no public has an executive power, and 



124 TRUTH AND FICTION 

in dismembered Germany public opinion neither benefited 
nor injured any one. 

Among us young people, there was indeed nothing to be 
traced which could have been culpable ; but a certain similar 
notion, composed of poetry, morality, and a noble striving, 
and which was harmless but yet fruitless, had taken posses- 
sion of us. 

By his " Hermann 's-Schlacht," 1 and the dedication of it 
to Joseph the Second, Klopstock had produced a wonderful 
excitement. The Germans who freed themselves from Ro- 
man oppression were nobly and powerfully represented, and 
this picture was well suited to awaken the self-feeling of a 
nation. But because in peace patriotism really consists only 
in this, that every one sweeps his own door, minds his own 
business, and learns his own lesson, that it may go well 
with his house ; so did the feeling for fatherland, excited by 
Klopstock, find no object on which it could exercise itself. 
Frederick had saved the honor of one part of the Germans 
against a united world ; and every member of the nation, by 
applause and reverence of this great prince, was allowed to 
share in his victory : but what was to come of this excited, 
warlike spirit of defiance? what direction should it take, and 
what effect produce ? At first it was merely a poetical form ; 
and the songs, which have since been criticised, and deemed 
so ridiculous, were accumulated through this impulse, — 
this incitement. There were no external enemies to fight, 
so people made tyrants for themselves ; and for this purpose 
princes and their servants were obliged to bestow their fig- 
ures, first only in general outline, but gradually with particu- 
lars. Here it was that poetry attached itself with vehemence 
to that interference with the administration of justice which 
is blamed above ; and it is remarkable to see poems of that 
time written in a spirit by which every thing of a higher 
order, whether monarchical or aristocratic, is abolished. 

For my own part, I continued to make poetry the expres- 
sion of my own whims and feelings. Little poems like 
the " Wanderer " belong to this time : they were inserted in 
the " Gottingen Musenalmanach." But, from whatever of the 
above-mentioned mania had worked itself into me, I shortly 
endeavored to free myself in u Gotz von Berlichingen ; " since 
I described how in disordered times this brave, well-thinking 
man resolves to take the place of the law and the executive 

1 The fight of Hermann, the "Armiuius" of Tacitus, against the Romans.— 
Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 125 

power, but is in despair when, to the supreme authority, 
which he recognizes and reveres, he appears in an equivocal 
light, and even rebellious. 

By Klopstock's odes, it was not so much the Northern 
mythology as the nomenclature of the divinities that had 
been introduced into German poetry ; and, although I gladly 
made use of every thing else that was offered me, I could not 
bring myself to use this, for the following causes : I had long 
become acquainted with the fables of the Edda, from the 
preface to Mallet's "Danish History," and had at once 
made myself master of them. They belonged to those tales, 
which, when asked by a company, I liked best to relate. 
Herder put Resenius into my hands, and made me better 
acquainted with the heroic sagas. But all these things, 
worthy as I held them, I could not bring within the circle of 
my own poetic faculty. Nobly as they excited my imagina- 
tion, they nevertheless were inaccessible to the perception of 
the senses ; while the mythology of the Greeks, changed by 
the greatest artists in the world into visible, easily imagined 
forms, still existed before our own eyes in abundance. Gods 
in general I did not allow often to appear ; because, at all 
events, they had their abode out of the Nature which I 
understood how to imitate. Now, what could have induced 
me to substitute Woden for Jupiter, and Thor for Mars, and 
instead of the Southern, accurately described figures, to in- 
troduce forms of mist, nay, mere verbal sounds, into my 
poems? On the one side, they were related to the equally 
formless heroes of Ossian, only they were ruder and more 
gigantic : on the other, I brought them into contact with the 
cheerful tale ; for the humoristic vein which runs through 
the whole Northern myths was to me highly pleasing and 
remarkable. It appeared to me the only one which jests with 
itself throughout, — wondrous giants, magicians, and mon- 
sters opposed to an odd dynasty of gods, and only occupied 
in leading astray and deriding the highest persons during 
their government ; while they threaten them, besides, with 
disgraceful and inevitable destruction. 

I felt a similar if not an equal interest for the Indian 
fables, with which I first became acquainted through Dap- 
per's "Travels," and likewise added with great pleasure to 
my store of tales. In subsequent repetitions I succeeded 
especially with the Altar of Ram ; and, notwithstanding the 
great number of persons in this tale, the ape Hannemann 
remained the favorite of my public. But even these un- 



126 TRUTH AND FICTION 

formed and over-formed monsters could not satisfy me in a 
true poetic sense : they lay too far from the truth, towards 
which my mind unceasingly strove. 

But against all these goblins, so repulsive to art, my feel- 
ing for the beautiful was to be protected by the noblest 
power. Always fortunate is that epoch in a literature when 
the great works of the past rise up again as if thawed, and 
come into notice ; because they then produce a perfectly fresh 
effect. Even the Homeric light rose again quite new to us, 
and indeed quite in the spirit of the time, which highly favored 
such an appearance ; for the constant reference to nature 
had at last the effect, that w r e learned to regard even the 
works of the ancients from this side. What several travel- 
lers had done for explanation of the Holy Scriptures, others 
had clone for Homer. By Guys the matter was introduced : 
Wood gave it an impulse. A Gottingen review of the origi- 
nal work, which was at first very rare, made us acquainted 
with the design, and taught us how far it had been carried 
out. We now no longer saw in those poems a strained and 
inflated heroism, but the reflected truth of a primeval present, 
and sought to bring this as closely to us as possible. At the 
same time w r e could not give our assent when it was main- 
tained, that, in order rightly to understand the Homeric na- 
tures, one must make one's self acquainted with the wild races 
and their manners, as described by the travellers in new 
worlds ; for it cannot be denied that both Europeans and 
Asiatics are represented in the Homeric poems as at a higher 
grade of culture, — perhaps higher than the time of the Tro- 
jan war could have enjoyed. But that maxim was neverthe- 
less in harmony with the prevailing confession of nature, and 
so far we let it pass. 

Amidst all these occupations, which were related to the 
knowledge of mankind in the higher sense, as well as most 
nearly and dearly to poetry, I was nevertheless forced every 
day to experience that I was residing in Wetzlar. The con- 
versation on the situation of the business of the "Visita- 
tion," and its ever-increasing obstacles, the discovery of new 
offences, was heard every hour. Here was the holy Roman 
Empire once more assembled, not for mere outward forms T 
but for an occupation which penetrated to the very depths. 
But even here that half-empty banqueting-hall on the coro- 
nation-day occurred to me, where the bidden guests remained 
without, because they were too proud. Here, indeed, they 
had come ; but even worse symptoms were to be seen. The 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 127 

want of coherence in the whole, the mutual opposition of the 
parts, were continually apparent ; and it remained no secret 
that princes had confidentially communicated to each other 
this notion, that the}^ must see whether, on this occasion, 
something could not be gained from the supreme authority. 

What a bad impression the petty detail of all the anecdotes 
of neglects and delays, of injustices and corruptions, must 
make upon a young man who desired what was good, and 
with this view cultivated his mind, every honest person will 
feel. Under such circumstances, where was a reverence for 
the law and the judge to arise ? Even if the greatest confi- 
dence had been placed in the effectlkof the " Visitation," — 
if it could have been believed that it would fully accomplish 
its high purpose, — still no satisfaction was to be found here 
for a joyous, inwardly striving youth. The formalities of 
the proceeding all tended towards delay : if any one desired 
to do any thing, and to be of any importance, he was obliged 
to serve the party in the wrong, — always the accused, — 
and to be skilled in the fencing-art of twisting and evading. 

Since, amid this distraction, I could not succeed in any 
aesthetic labors, I again and again lost myself in aesthetic 
speculations ; as indeed all theorizing indicates a defect or 
stagnation of productive power. As previously with Merck, 
so now sometimes with Gotter, I endeavored to find out the 
maxims according to which one might go to work in produc- 
tion. But neither with me nor with them would it succeed. 
Merck was a sceptic and eclectic : Gotter adhered to such 
examples as pleased him most. The Sulzer theory was pub- 
lished more for the amateur than the artist. In this sphere 
moral effects are required above all things *. and here at once 
arises a dissension between the class that produces and that 
which uses ; for a good work of art can, and will indeed, 
have moral consequences, but to require moral ends of the 
artist is to destroy his profession. 

What the ancients had said on these important subjects I 
had read industriously for some years, by skips at least, if 
not in regular order. Aristotle, Cicero, Quintilian, Longi- 
nus, — none were unconsidered ; but this did not help me in 
the least, for all these men presupposed an experience which 
I lacked. They led me into a world infinitely rich in works 
of art : they unfolded the merits of excellent poets and 
orators, of most of whom the names alone are left us, and 
convinced me but too well that a great abundance of objects 
must lie before us ere we can think upon them ; that one 



128 TRUTH AND FICTION 

must first accomplish something one's self, nay, fail in some- 
thing, to learn to know one's own capacities, and those of 
others. My acquaintance with so much that was good in 
those old times, was only according to school and book, and 
by no means vital ; since, even with the most celebrated 
orators, it was striking that the} 1 - had altogether formed 
themselves in life, and that one could never speak of the 
peculiarities of their character as artists, without at the same 
time mentioning the personal peculiarities of their disposi- 
tion. With the poets this seemed less to be the case ; and 
thus the result of all my thoughts and endeavors was the 
old resolution to investigate inner and outer nature, and to 
allow her to rule herself in loving imitation. 

For these operations, which rested in me neither day nor 
night, lay before me two great, nay, monstrous, materials, 
the wealth of which I had only to prize, in order to produce 
something of importance. There was the older epoch, into 
which falls the life of Gotz von Berlichingen ; and the mod- 
ern one, the unhappy bloom of which is depicted in " Wer- 
ther." Of the historical preparation to that first work I 
have already spoken : the ethical occasions of the second 
shall now be introduced. 

The resolution to preserve my internal nature according to 
its peculiarities, and to let external nature influence me 
according to its qualities, impelled me to the strange element 
in which u Werther " is designed and written. I endeav- 
ored to free myself inwardly from all that was foreign to 
me ; to regard the external with love ; and to allow all 
beings, from man downwards, as low as they were compre- 
hensible, to act upon me, each after its own kind. Thus 
arose a wonderful affinity with the single objects of nature, 
and a hearty concord, a harmony with the whole ; so that 
every change, whether of place and region, or of the times 
of the day and year, or whatever else could happen, affected 
me in the deepest manner. The glance of the painter be- 
came associated with that of the poet : the beautiful rural 
landscape, animated by the pleasant river, increased my 
love of solitude, and favored my silent observations as they 
extended on all sides. 

But since I had left the family circle in Sesenheim, and 
again my family circle at Frankfort and Darmstadt, a 
vacuum had remained in my bosom which I was not able to 
fill up : I therefore found myself in a situation where the 
inclinations, if the}' appear in any degree veiled, gradually 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 129 

steal upon us, and can render abortive all our good resolu- 
tions. 

And now, when the author has attained this step of his 
undertaking, he for the first time feels light-hearted in his 
labor ; since from henceforward this book first becomes what 
it properly ought to be. It has not been announced as an 
independent work : it is much more designed to fill up the 
gaps of an author's life, to complete much that is fragmen- 
tary, and to preserve the memory of lost and forgotten ven- 
tures. But what is already done neither should nor can be 
repeated ; and the poet would now vainly call upon those 
darkened powers of the soul, vainly ask of them to render 
present again those charming circumstances which rendered 
the period in Lahnthal so agreeable to him. Fortunately the 
genius had already provided for that, and had impelled him, 
in the vigorous period of youth, to hold fast, describe, and, 
with sufficient boldness and at the favorable hour, publicly to 
exhibit, that which had immediately gone by. That the little 
book "Werther" is here meant, requires no further indica- 
tion ; but something is to be gradually revealed, both of 
the persons introduced in it and the views which it exhibits. 

Among the young men, who, attached to the embassy, 
had to prepare themselves for their future career of office, 
was one w r hom we were accustomed to call only the * ' Bride- 
groom." He distinguished himself by a calm, agreeable 
deportment, clearness of views, definiteness both in speaking 
and in acting. His cheerful activity, his persevering indus- 
try, so much recommended him to his superiors, that an ap- 
pointment at an early period was promised him. Being 
justified by this, he ventured to betroth himself to a lady, 
who fully corresponded to his tone of mind and his wishes. 
After the death of her mother, she had shown herself ex- 
tremely active as the head of a numerous young family, and 
had alone sustained her father in his widowhood ; so that a 
future husband might hope the same for himself and his 
posterity, and expect a decided domestic felicity. Every 
one confessed, without having these selfish ends immediately 
in view, that she was a desirable lady. She belonged to 
those, who, if they do not inspire ardent passion, are never- 
theless formed to create a general feeling of pleasure. A 
figure lightly built and neatly formed ; a pure, healthy tem- 
perament, with a glad activity of life resulting from it ; an 
Mnembarrassed management of the necessities of the day, — 
all these were given her together. I always felt happy in 



130 TRUTH AND FICTION 

the contemplation of such qualities, and I readily associated 
myself to those who possessed them ; and, if I did not always 
iind opportunity to render them real service, I rather shared 
with them than with others the enjoyment of those innocent 
pleasures which youth can always find at hand, and seize 
without any great cost or effort. Moreover, since it is now 
settled that ladies decorate themselves only for each other, 
and are unwearied among each other to heighten the effect 
of their adornments, those were always the most agreeable 
to me, who, with simple purity, give their friend, their bride- 
groom, the silent assurance that all is really done for him 
alone, and that a whole life could be so carried on without 
much circumstance and outlay. 

Such persons are not too much occupied with themselves : 
they have time to consider the external world, and patience 
enough to direct themselves according to it, and to adapt 
themselves to it ; they become shrewd and sensible without 
exertion, and require but few books for their cultivation. 
Such was the bride. 1 The bridegroom, with his thoroughly 
upright and confiding turn of mind, soon made many whom 
he esteemed acquainted with her, and, as he had to pass the 
greatest part of his day in a zealous attention to business, 
was pleased when his betrothed, after the domestic toils were 
ended, amused herself otherwise, and took social recreation 
in walks and rural parties with friends of both sexes. Lottie 
— for so we shall call her — was unpretending in two senses : 
first, by her nature, which was rather directed to a general 
kindly feeling than to particular inclinations ; and then, she 
had set her mind upon a man, who, being worthy of her, de- 
clared himself ready to attach his fate to hers for life. The 
most cheerful atmosphere seemed to surround her ; nay, if it 
be a pleasing sight to see parents bestow an uninterrupted 
care upon their children, there is something still more beau- 
tiful when brothers and sisters do the same for each other. 
In the former case we think we can perceive more of natural 
impulse and social tradition ; in the latter, more of choice 
and of a free exercise of feeling. 

The new-comer, perfectly free from all ties, and careless 
in the presence of a girl, who, already engaged to another, 
could not interpret the most obliging services as acts of 
courtship, and could take the more pleasure in them accord- 
ingly, quietly went his way, but was soon so drawn in and 
riveted, that he no longer knew himself. Indolent and 

1 Persons betrothed are in German called M bride " and " bridegroom.'*— Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 131 

dreamy, because nothing present satisfied him, he found 
what he had lacked in a female friend, who, while she lived 
for the whole year, seemed only to live for the moment. She 
liked him much as her companion ; he soon could not bear 
her absence, as she formed for him the connecting link with 
the every-day world ; and, during extensive household occu- 
pations, they were inseparable companions in the fields and 
in the meadows, in the vegetable-ground and in the garden. 
If business permitted, the bridegroom was also of the party : 
they had all three accustomed themselves to each other with- 
out intention, and did not know how they had become so 
mutually indispensable. During the splendid summer they 
lived through a real German idyl, to which the fertile land 
gave the form, and a pure affection the poetry. Wandering 
through ripe cornfields, they took delight in the dewy morn- 
ing ; the song of the lark, the cry of the quail, were pleas- 
ant tones ; sultry hours followed, monstrous storms came 
on, — they grew more and more attached to each other, and 
by this continuous love many a little domestic annoyance 
was easil} 7 extinguished. And thus one ordinary day fol- 
lowed another, and all seemed to be holidays, — the whole 
calendar should have been printed red. He will understand 
me who recollects what was predicted by the happily un- 
happy friend of tc The New Heloise : " " And, sitting at the 
feet of his beloved, he will break hemp ; and he will wish to 
break hemp to-day, to-morrow, and the day after, — nay, for 
his whole life." 

I can say but little, though just as much as may be neces- 
sary, respecting a young man whose name was afterwards 
but too often mentioned. This was Jerusalem, the son of 
the freely and tenderly thinking theologian. He also had an 
appointment with an embassy ; his form was pleasing, of a 
middle height, and well built ; his face was rather round than 
long ; his features were soft and calm ; and he had the other 
appurtenances of a handsome blond youth, with blue eyes, 
rather attractive than speaking. His dress was that intro- 
duced in Lower Germany in imitation of the English, — a 
blue frock, waistcoat and breeches of yellow leather, and 
boots with brown tops. The author never visited him, nor 
saw him at his own residence, but often met him among his 
friends. The expressions of this young man were moderate 
but kindly. He took interest in productions of the most 
different kinds, and especially loved those designs and 
sketches in which the tranquil character of solitary spots is 



132 TRUTH AND FICTION . 

caught. On such occasions he showed Gesner's etchings, 
and encouraged the amateurs to study them. In all that 
mummery and knighthood he took no part, but lived for him- 
self and his own sentiments. It was said he had a decided 
passion for the wife of one of his friends. In public they 
were never seen together. In general very little could be 
said of him, except that he occupied himself with English 
literature. As the son of an opulent man, he had no occa- 
sion, either painfully to devote himself to business, or to 
make pressing applications for an early appointment. 

Those etchings by Gesner increased the pleasure and in- 
terest in rural .objects ; and a little poem, which we passion- 
ately received into our circle, allowed us from henceforward 
to think of nothing else. Goldsmith's " Deserted Village ' ' 
necessarily delighted every one at that stage of culture in 
that sphere of thought. Not as living and active, but as a 
departed, vanished existence was described, all that one so 
readily looked upon, that one loved, prized, sought passion- 
ately in the present to take part in it w T ith the cheerfulness of 
youth. High-days and holidays in the country, church conse- 
crations and fairs, the solemn assemblage of the elders under 
the village linden-tree, supplanted in its turn by the lively 
delight of youth in dancing, while the more educated classes 
show their sympathy. How seemly did these pleasures 
appear, moderated as they were by an excellent country pas- 
tor, who understood how to smooth down and remove all 
that went too far, — that gave occasion to quarrel and dis- 
pute. Here, again, we found an honest Wakefield, in his 
well-known circle, yet no longer in his living bodily form, 
but as a shadow recalled by the soft, mournful tones of the 
elegiac poet. The very thought of this picture is one of the 
happiest possible, when once the design is formed to evoke 
once more an innocent past with a graceful melancholy. 
And in this kindly endeavor, how well has the Englishman 
succeeded in every sense of the word ! I shared the enthu- 
siasm for this charming poem with Gotter, who was more 
felicitous than myself with the translation undertaken by 
us both ; for I had too painfully tried to imitate in our lan- 
guage the delicate significance of the original, and thus had 
well agreed with single passages, but not with the whole. 

If, as they say, the greatest happiness rests on a sense of 
longing (sehnsucht) , and if the genuine longing can only be 
directed to something unattainable, every thing had fallen 
together to render the youth whom we now accompany on 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 133 

his wanderings the happiest of mortals. An affection for 
one betrothed to another ; the effort to acquire the master- 
pieces of foreign literature for our own ; the endeavor to 
imitate natural objects, not only with words, but also with 
style and pencil, without any proper technical knowledge, — 
each of these particulars would singly have sufficed to melt 
the heart and oppress the bosom. But that the sweetly 
suffering youth might be torn out of this state, and that new 
circumstances might be prepared for new disquiet, the fol- 
lowing events occurred : — 

Hopfner, professor of law, was at Giessen. He was ac- 
knowledged and highly esteemed by Merck and Schlosser as 
clever in his office, and as a thinking and excellent man. I 
had long ago desired his acquaintance ; and now, when these 
two friends thought to pay him a visit, to negotiate about 
some literary matters, it was agreed that I should likewise go 
to Giessen on this opportunity. Because, however, — as gen- 
erally happens with the wilfulness of glad and peaceful times, 
— we could not easily do any thing in the direct way, but, 
like genuine children, sought to get a jest, even out of what 
was necessary, I was now, as an unknown person, to appear 
in a strange form, and once more satisfy my desire to appear 
disguised. One bright morning before sunrise, I went from 
Wetzlar along the Lahn, up the charming valley : such 
ramblings again constituted my greatest felicity. I invented, 
connected, elaborated, and was quietly happy and cheerful 
with myself : I set right what the ever-contradictory world 
had clumsily and confusedly forced upon me. Arrived at 
the end of my journey, I looked out for Hopfner' s residence, 
and knocked at his study. When he had cried out, u Come 
in ! " I modestly appeared before him as a student who was 
going home from the universities, and wished on his way to 
become acquainted with the most worthy men. For his 
questions as to my more intimate circumstances,. I was pre- 
pared ; I made up a plausible, prosaic tale, with which he 
seemed satisfied : and, as I gave myself out for a jurist, I did 
not come off badly ; for I well knew his merits in this depart- 
ment, and also that he was occupied with natural law. 
Conversation, however, sometimes came to a standstill ; and 
it seemed as if he were looking for a Stammbuch, 1 or for 
me to take my leave. Nevertheless, I managed to delay my 
departure, as I expected with certainty the arrival of 
Schlosser, whose punctuality was well known to me. He 

1 Stammbuch is a sort of album for autographs and short contributions. — Trans. 

Goethe— 5 Vol 2 



134 TRUTH AND FICTION 

actually came, find, after a side glance, took little notice of me. 
Hopfner, however, drew me into conversation, and showed 
himself throughout as a humane and kindly man. I at last took 
my leave, and hastened to the inn, where I exchanged a few 
hurried words with Merck, and awaited further proceedings. 

The friends had resolved to ask Hopfner to dinner, and 
also that Christian Heinrich Schmid who had played a part, 
though a very subordinate one, in German literature. For 
him the affair was really designed, and he was to be punished 
in a mirthful manner. "When the guests had assembled in 
the dining-room, I asked, through the waiter, whether the 
gentlemen would allow me to dine with them. Schlosser, 
whom a certain earnestness well became, opposed this prop- 
osition, because they did not wish their conversation inter- 
rupted by a third party. But on the pressing demand of 
the waiter and the advocacy of Hopfner, who assured the 
other that I was a very tolerable person, I was admitted, and, 
at the commencement of the meal, behaved as if modest and 
abashed. Schlosser and Merck put no restraint upon them- 
selves, and went on about many subjects as freely as if no 
stranger were present. I now showed myself somewhat 
bolder, and did not allow myself to be disturbed when 
Schlosser threw out at me much that was in earnest, and 
Merck something sarcastic ; but I directed against Schmid 
all my darts, which fell sharply and surely on the uncovered 
places, which I well knew. 

I had been moderate over my pint of table-wine ; but the 
gentlemen ordered better wine to be brought, and did not 
fail to give me some. After many affairs of the day had 
been talked over, conversation went into general matters; 
and the question was discussed, which will be repeated as 
long as there are authors in the world, — the question, 
namely, whether literature was rising, or declining ; progress- 
ing, or retrograding? This question, about which old and 
yoaog, those commencing and those retiring, seldom agree, 
was discussed with cheerfulness, though without any exact 
design of coming decidedly to terms about it. At last I took 
up the discourse, and said, "The different literatures, as it 
seems to me, have seasons, which, alternating with each 
other, as in nature, bring forth certain phenomena, and assert 
themselves iu due order. Hence I do not believe that any 
epoch of a literature can be praised or blamed on the whole : 
especially it displeases me when certain talents, which are 
brought out by their time, are raised and vaunted so highly, 



kklatjng to my life. 135 

while others arc censured and depreciated. The throat of 
the nightingale is excited by the spring, btit at the same 
time also that of the cuckoo. The butterflies, which are so 
agreeable to the eye, and the gnats, which are so painful to 
the feelings, are called into being by the same heat of the 
sun. If this were duly considered, we should not hear the same 
complaints renewed every ten years ; and the vain trouble 
which is taken to root out this or that offensive thing would 
not so often be wasted." The party looked at me, wondering 
whence I had got so much wisdom and tolerance. I, however, 
continued quite calmly to compare literary phenomena with 
natural productions, and (I know not how) came to the mol- 
luscse, of which I contrived to set forth all sorts of strange 
things. I said that there were creatures to whom a sort of 
body, nay, a certain figure, could not be denied ; but that, 
since they had no bones, one never knew how to set about 
rightty with them, and they were nothing better than living 
slime ; nevertheless, the sea must have such inhabitants. 
Since I carried the simile beyond its due limits to designate 
Schmid, who was present, and that class of characterless 
litterateurs, I was reminded that a simile carried too far at last 
becomes nothing. u Well, then, I will return to the earth," I 
replied, " and speak of the ivy. As these creatures have no 
bones, so this has no trunk ; but, wherever it attaches itself, 
it likes to play the chief part. It belongs to old walls, in 
which there is nothing more to destroy ; but from new 
buildings it is properly removed. It sucks up the goodness 
of the trees, and is most insupportable to me when it clam- 
bers up a post, and assures me that this is a living trunk, 
because it has covered it with leaves." 

Notwithstanding my being again reproached with the 
obscurity and inapplicability of my similes i I became more 
and more excited against all parasitical creatures, and, as far 
as my knowledge of nature then extended, managed the affair 
pretty well. I at last sang a vivat to all independent men, 
a pereat to those who forced themselves upon them, seized 
Hopfner's hand after dinner, shook it violently, declared 
him to be the best man in the world, and finally embraced 
both him and the others right heartily. My excellent new 
friend thought he was really dreaming, until Schlosser and 
Merck at last solved the riddle ; and the discovered joke dif- 
fused a general hilarity, which was shared bj^ Schmid himself. 
who was appeased by an acknowledgment of his real merits, 
and the interest we took in his tastes. 



13 6 TRUTH AND FICTION 

This ingenious introduction could not do otherwise than 
animate and favor the literary congress, which was, indeed, 
chiefly kept in view. Merck, active now in aesthetics, now in 
literature, now in commerce, had stimulated the well-thinking, 
well-informed Schlosser, whose knowledge extended to so 
many branches, to edit the Frankfort " Gelehrte Anzeige 
<" Learned Advertiser ") for that year. They had associated 
to themselves Hopfner, and other university men in Giessen, 
a meritorious schoolman, Rector Wenck in Darmstadt, and 
many other good men. Every one of them possessed enough 
historical and theoretical knowledge in his department, and 
the feeling of the times allowed these men to work in one 
spirit. The human and cosmopolitan is encouraged : really 
good men justly celebrated are protected against obtrusion of 
every kind : their defence is undertaken against enemies, and 
especially against scholars who use what has been taught 
them to the detriment of their instructors. Nearly the most 
interesting articles are the critiques on other periodical pub- 
lications, the « Berlin Library " (" Bibliothek " ) , the " Ger- 
man Mercury," where the cleverness in so many departments, 
the judgment as well as the fairness of the papers, is rightly 

admired. ^ . 

As for myself, they saw well enough that 1 was deticient 
in every thing that belongs to a critic, properly so called. 
My historical knowledge was unconnected : the histories of 
the world, science, and literature had only attracted me by 
epochs, the objects themselves only partially and in masses. 
My capacity of giving life to things, and rendering them 
present to me out of their real connection, put me in the 
position that I could be perfectly at home in a certain century 
or in a department of science, without being in any degree in- 
structed as to what preceded or what followed. Thus a certain 
theoretico-practical sense had been awakened in me, by which I 
could give account of things, rather as they should be than 
as they were, without any proper philosophical connection, but 
by way of leaps. To this was added a very easy power of 
apprehension, and a friendly reception of the opinions of 
others, if they did not stand in direct opposition to my own 
convictions. 

That literary union was also favored by an animated cor- 
respondence, and by frequent personal communication, which 
was possible from the vicinity of the places. He who had 
first read a book was to give an account of it ; often another 
reviewer of the same book was found ; the affair was talked 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 137 

over, connected with kindred subjects ; and, if at last a certain 
result had been obtained, one of them took the office of edit- 
ing. Thus many reviews are as clever as they are spirited, 
as pleasant as they are satisfactory. I often had the task 
of introducing the matter : my friends also permitted me to 
jest in their works, and to appear independently with objects 
to which I felt myself equal, and in which I especially took 
interest. In vain should I endeavor, either by description or 
reflection, to recall the proper spirit and sense of those days, 
if the two years of the above-mentioned periodical did not 
furnish me with the most decisive documents. Extracts 
from passages, in which I again recognize myself, may 
appear in future in their proper place, together with similar 
essays. 

During this lively interchange of knowledge, opinions, and 
convictions, I very soon became better acquainted with 
Hopfner, and became very fond of him. As soon as we were 
alone, I spoke with him about subjects connected with his 
department, which was to be my department also, and found 
a very naturally connected explanation and instruction. I 
was not then as yet plainly conscious that I could learn some- 
thing from books and conversation, but not from continuous 
professional lectures. A book allowed me to pause at a pas- 
sage, and even to look back, which is impossible with oral 
delivery and a teacher. Often, at the beginning of the lec- 
ture, some thought in which I indulged laid hold of me ; and 
thus I lost what followed, and altogether got out of the con- 
nection. Thus it had happened to me with respect to the 
lectures on jurisprudence : and on this account I could take 
many opportunities of talking with Hopfner, who entered very 
readily into my doubts and scruples, and filled up many gaps ; 
so that the wish arose in me to remain with him at Giessen, 
and derive instruction from him, without removing myself too 
far from Wetzlar inclinations. Against this wish of mine 
my two friends had labored, first unconsciously, but after- 
wards consciously ; for both were in a hurry, not only to 
leave the place themselves, but had also an interest to remove 
me from the spot. 

Schlosser disclosed to me that he had formed, first a 
friendly, then a closer, connection with my sister, and that 
he was looking about for an early appointment, that he might 
be united to her. This explanation surprised me to some 
degree, although I ought to have found it out long ago in 
my sister's letters ; but we easily pass over that which may 



138 TRUTH AND FICTION 

hurt the good opinion which we entertain of ourselves : and 
I now remarked for the first time, that I was really jealous 
about ray sister, — a feeling which I concealed from my- 
self the less, as, since my return from Strasburg, our con- 
nection had been much more intimate. How much time we 
had expended in communicating each little affair of the heart, 
love-matters, and other matters, which had occurred in the 
interval! In the field of imagination, too, had there not 
been revealed to me a new world, into which I sought to 
conduct her also? My own little productions, and a far-ex- 
tended world-poetry, was gradually to be made known to her. 
Thus I made for her impromptu translations of those* pas- 
sages of Homer in which she could take the greatest interest. 
Clarke's literal translation I read off in German, as weh as 
I could : my version generally found its way into metrical 
turns and terminations ; and the liveliness with which I had 
apprehended the images, the force with which I expressed 
them, removed all the obstacles of 'a cramped order of words : 
what I gave with mind, she followed with mind also. # VV e 
passed many hours of the day in this fashion : while, if her 
company met, the Wolf Fenris and the Ape Hannemann were 
unanimously called for ; and how often have I not been obliged 
to repeat circumstantially how Thor and his comrades were 
deluded by the magical giants ! Hence, from these fictions, 
such a pleasant impression has remained with me, that they 
belong to the most valuable things which my imagination can 
recall? Into the connection with the Darmstadt people I 
had drawn my sister also ; and now my wanderings and occa- 
sional absence necessarily bound us closer together, as I 
discoursed with her by letter respecting every thing that oc- 
curred to me, communicated to her every little poem, if even 
only a note of admiration, and let her first see all the letters 
which I received, and all the answers which I wrote. All 
these lively impulses had been stopped since my departure 
from Frankfort ; my residence at Wetzlar was not fertile 
enough for such a correspondence ; and, moreover, my attach- 
ment to Charlotte may have infringed upon my attentions to 
my sister ; she certainly felt that she was alone, perhaps 
neglected, and therefore the more readily gave a hearing to 
the honest wooing of an honorable man, who, serious and 
reserved, estimable, and worthy of confidence, had passion- 
ately bestowed on her his affections, witli which he was 
otherwise very niggardly- I had to give in and let my friend 
be happy ; though 1 did not fail in secret to say confidently 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 130 

to myself, that, if the brother had not been absent, the friend 
would not have hired so well. 

My friend and apparent brother-in-law was now very 
anxious that I should return home, because, by my mediation, 
a freer intercourse was possible, of which the feelings of this 
man, so unexpectedly attacked by a tender passion, seemed 
to stand extremely in need. Therefore, on his speedy 
departure, he. elicited from me the promise that I would 
immediately follow him. 

Of Merck, whose time was free, I hoped that he would 
delay his sojourn in Giessen, that I might be able to pass some 
hours of the day with my good Hopfner, while my friend 
employed his time on the Frankfort " Gelehrte Anzeige ; " 
but he w^as not to be moved ; and as my brother-in-law was 
driven from the university by love, he was driven by hate. 
For as there are innate antipathies, — just as certain men 
cannot endure cats, while this or that is repugnant to the 
soul of others, — so w r as Merck a deadly enemy to all the 
academical citizens (the students), who indeed at that time, 
at Giessen, took delight in the greatest rudeness. For me 
they were well enough ; I could have used them as masks for 
one of my carnival plays : but with him the sight of them by 
da} T , and their noise by night, destroyed every sort of good 
humor. He had spent the best days of his youth in French 
Switzerland, and had afterwards enjoyed the pleasant inter- 
course of people of the court, w^orld, and business, and of 
cultivated litterateurs: several military persons, in w r hom a 
desire for mental culture had been awakened, sought his 
society ; and thus he had passed his life in a very cultivated 
circle. That the students' disorderly conduct vexed him, 
was therefore not to be wondered at ; but his aversion to them 
was really more passionate than became a sound man, although 
he often made me laugh by his w r itty descriptions of their 
monstrous appearance and behavior. Hopfner' s invitations 
and my persuasions were of no avail : I was obliged to depart 
with him as soon as possible for Wetzlar. 

I could scarcely wait any time, till I had introduced him 
to Charlotte ; but his presence in this circle did me no good : 
for as Mephistopheles, let him go where he will, hardly brings 
a blessing with him ; so did he, by his indifference towards 
that beloved person, cause me no joy, even if he did not 
make me waver. This I might have foreseen, if I had recol- 
lected that it was exactly those slender, delicate persons who 
diffuse a lively cheerfulness around them, without making 



140 TRUTH AND FICTION 

further pretensions, who did not remarkably please him. He 
very quickly preferred the Juno-form of one of her friends ; 
and, since he lacked time to form a close connection, he bitterly 
blamed me for not exerting myself to gain this magnificent 
figure, especially as she was free and without any tie. He 
thought that I did not understand my own advantage, and 
that he here — very unwillingly — perceived my especial taste 
for wasting my time. 

If it is dangerous to make a friend acquainted with the 
perfections of one's beloved, because he also may find her 
charming and desirable, no less is the reverse danger, that 
he may perplex us by his dissent. This, indeed, was not the 
case here, for I had too deeply impressed upon myself the 
picture of her amiability for it to be so easily obliterated ; 
but his presence and his persuasions nevertheless hastened 
my resolution to leave the place. He represented to me a 
journey on the Rhine, which he was going to take with his 
wife and son, in the most glowing colors, and excited in me 
the desire to see at last, with my eyes, those objects of which 
I had often heard with envy. Now, when he had departed, I 
separated myself from Charlotte with a purer conscience, 
indeed, than from Frederica, but still not without pain. This 
connection also had, by habit and indulgence, grown more 
passionate than right on my side : while, on the other hand, 
she and her bridegroom kept themselves with cheerful- 
ness in a measure which could not be more beautiful and 
amiable ; and the security which resulted just from this caused 
me to forget every danger. I could not, however, conceal from 
myself that this adventure must come to a speedy end ; for 
the union of the young man with the amiable girl depended 
on a promotion which was immediately to be expected : and 
as man, if he is in any degree resolute, even dares to make 
a virtue of necessity ; so did I embrace the determination 
voluntarily to depart before being driven away by what might 
be insupportable to me. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 141 



THIRTEENTH BOOK. 

It had been agreed with Merck, that in the fine season we 
should meet at Coblentz at Frau von Laroche's. I sent to 
Frankfort my baggage, and whatever I might want on my way 
down the Lahn, by an opportunity which offered, and now 
wandered down that beautiful river, so lovely in its windings, 
so various in its shores, free as to my resolution, but oppressed 
as to my feelings,- — in a condition when the presence of 
silently living nature is so beneficial to us. My eye, accus- 
tomed to discern those beauties of a landscape that suited the 
painter, and were above him, rioted in the contemplation of 
near and distant objects, of bushy rocks, of sunny heights, 
of damp valleys, of enthroned castles, and of the blue range 
of mountains inviting us from the distance. 

I wandered on the right bank of the river, which at some 
depth and distance below me, and partly concealed by a rich 
bush of willows, glided along in the sunlight. Then again 
arose in me the old wish, worthily to imitate such objects. 
By chance I had a handsome pocket-knife in my left hand ; and 
at the moment, from the depth of my soul, arose, as it were, 
an absolute command, according to which, without delay, I 
was to fling this knife into the river. If I saw it fall, my 
wish to become an artist would be fulfilled ; but if the sinking 
of the knife was concealed by the overhanging bush of willows, 
I was to abandon the wish and the endeavor. This whim 
had no sooner arisen in me than it was executed. For with- 
out regarding the usefulness of the knife, which comprised 
many instruments in itself, I cast it with the left hand, as I 
held it, violently towards the river. But here I had to expe- 
rience that deceptive ambiguity of oracles, of which, in antiq- 
uity, such bitter complaints were made. The sinking of the 
knife into the water was concealed from me by the extreme 
twigs of the willows ; but the water, which rose from the fall, 
sprang up like a strong fountain, and was perfectly visible. 
I did not interpret this phenomenon in my favor ; and the 
doubt which it excited in me was afterwards the cause that I 
pursued these exercises more interruptedly and more negli- 
gently, and gave occasion for the import of the oracle to fulfil 
itself. For the moment, at least, the external world was spoiled 
for me : I abandoned n^self to my imaginations and feelings, 
and left the well-situated castles and districts of Weilburg, 
Limburg, Diez, and Nassau, one by one, behind me, generally 



142 TRUTH AND FICTION 

walking alone, but often for a short time associating myself 
with another. 

After thus pleasantly wandering for some days, I arrived at 
Ems, where I several times enjoyed the soft bath, and then 
went down the river in a boat. Then the old Rhine opened 
itself upon me ; the beautiful situation of Oberlahnstein de- 
lighted me ; but noble and majestic above all appeared to me 
the castle Ehrenbreitstein, which stood perfectly armed in its 
power and strength. In most lovely contrast lay at its feet 
the well-built little place called Thai, where I could easily find 
my way to the residence of Privy Councillor von Laroche. 
Announced by Merck, I was very kindly received by this noble 
family, and soon considered as a member of it. My literary 
and sentimental tendencies bound me to the mother, a cheer- 
ful feeling for the world bound me to the father, and my youth 
bound me to the daughters. 

The house, quite at the end of the valley, and little elevated 
above the river, had a free prospect down the stream. The 
rooms were high and spacious ; and the walls, like a gallery, 
were hung with pictures, placed close together. Every win- 
dow on every side formed a frame to a natural picture, which 
came out very vividly by the light of a mild sun. I thought 
I had never seen such cheerful mornings and such splendid 
evenings. 

I was not long the only guest in the house. As a member 
of the congress which was held here, — partly with an artistic 
view, partly as a matter of feeling, — Leuchsenring, who came 
up from Diisseldorf , was likewise appointed. This man, pos- 
sessing a fine knowledge of modern literature, had, on different 
travels, but especially during a residence in Switzerland, made 
many acquaintances, and, as he was pleasant and insinuating, 
had gained much favor. He carried with him several boxes, 
which contained the confidential correspondence with many 
friends ; for there was altogether such a general openness 
among people, that one could not speak or write to a single 
individual, without considering it directed to many. One 
explored one's own heart and that of others ; and with the 
indifference of the government towards such a communication, 
the great rapidity of the Taxisch x post, the security of the 
seal, and the reasonableness of the postage, this moral and 
literary intercourse soon spread itself around. 

i The post, managed by the princes of Tlmrn and Taxis, in different parts of Ger- 
many. An ancestor of this house first, directed the post system in Tyrol, in 1450; and 
Alexander Ferdinand von Thurn received, in 1744, the office of Imperial Postmaster- 
general, as a tief of the empire. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 143 

Such correspondences, especially with important persons, 
were carefully collected ; and extracts from them were often 
read at friendly meetings. Thus, as political discourses had 
little interest, one became pretty well acquainted with the 
extent of the moral world. 

Leuchsenrihg's boxes contained many treasures in this 
sense. The letters of one Julie Bondelli were very much es- 
teemed : she was famed as a lady of sense and merit, and a 
friend of Rousseau. Whoever had stood in any relation to 
this extraordinary man, took part in the glory which emanated 
from him ; and in his name a silent community had been dis- 
seminated far and wide. 

I liked to be present at these readings ; as I was thus trans- 
ported into an unknown world, and learned to know the real 
truth of many an event that had just passed. All, indeed, was 
not valuable ; and Herr von Laroche, a cheerful man of the 
world and of business, who, although a Catholic, had already 
in his writings made free with the monks and priesthood, 
thought that he here saw a fraternity where many a worthless 
individual supported himself by a connection w T ith persons of 
importance, by which, in the end, he, but not they, were ad- 
mired. Generally this excellent man withdrew from the com- 
pany when the boxes were opened. Even if he did listen to 
some letters now and then, a waggish remark was to be ex- 
pected. Among other things, he once said, that by this cor- 
respondence he was still more convinced of what he had alwa} T s 
believed, namely, that ladies might spare their sealing-wax ; 
as they need only fasten their letters with pins, and might be 
assured that they would reach their address unopened. In the 
same way he was accustomed to jest with every thing that lay 
out of the sphere of life and activity, and in this followed the 
disposition of his lord and master, Count Stadion, minister to 
the Elector of Ma} ence, who certainly was not fitted to coun- 
terbalance the worldliness and coldness of the boy by a rev- 
erence for every thing like mysterious foreboding. 

An anecdote respecting the great practical sense of the count 
may here find a place. When he took a liking to the orphan 
Laroche, and chose him for a pupil, he at once required 
from the boy the services of a secretary. He gave him let- 
ters to answer, despatches to prepare, which he was then 
obliged to copy fair, oftener to write in cipher, to seal, and 
to direct. This lasted for many years. When the boy had 
grown up into a youth, and really did that which he had hith- 
erto only supposed he was doing, the count took him to a 



144 TRUTH AND FICTION 

large writing-table, in which all his letters and packets lay 
unbroken, having been preserved as exercises of the former 
time. 

Another exercise which the count required of his pupil 
will not find such universal applause. Laroche had been 
•obliged to practise himself in imitating, as accurately as pos- 
sible, the handwriting of his lord and master, that he might 
thus relieve him from the trouble of writing himself. Not 
only in business, but also in love-affairs, the young man had 
to take the place of his preceptor. The count was passion- 
ately attached to a lady of rank and talent. If he stopped 
in her society till late at night, his secretary was, in the 
mean while, sitting at home, and hammering out the most 
ardent love-letters : the count chose one of these, and sent 
it that very night to his beloved, who was thus necessarily 
convinced of the inextinguishable fire of her passionate adorer. 
Such early experiences were scarcely fitted to give the youth 
the most exalted notion of written communications about 
love. 

An irreconcilable hatred of the priesthood had established 
itself in this man, who served two spiritual electors, and had 
probably sprung from the contemplation of the rude, taste- 
less, mind-destroying foolery which the monks in Germany 
were accustomed to carry on in many parts, and thus hin- 
dered and destroyed every sort of cultivation. His letters 
on Monasticism caused great attention : they were received 
with great applause by all Protestants and many Catholics. 

If Herr von Laroche opposed every thing that can be called 
sensibility, and even decidedly avoided the very appearance 
of it, he nevertheless did not conceal a tender paternal affec- 
tion for his eldest daughter, who, indeed, was nothing else 
but amiable. She was rather short than tall of stature, and 
delicately built : her figure was free and graceful, her eyes 
very black, while nothing could be conceived purer and more 
blooming than her complexion. She also loved her father, 
and inclined to his sentiments. Beinsf an active man of 
business, most of his time was consumed in works belonging 
to his calling ; and, as the guests who stopped at his house 
were really attracted by his wife and not by him, societ} T 
afforded him but little pleasure. At table he was cheerful 
and entertaining, and at least endeavored to keep his board 
free from the spice of sensibility. 

Whoever knows the views and mode of thought of Fran 
von Laroche, — and, by a long life and many writings, she has 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 145 

become honorably known to every German, — may perhaps 
suspect that a domestic incongruity must have arisen here. 
Nothing of the kind. She was the most wonderful woman, 
and I know no other to compare to her. Slenderly and deli- 
cately built, rather tall than short, she had, even to her more 
advanced years, managed to preserve a certain elegance, both 
of form and of conduct, which pleasantly fluctuated between 
the conduct of a noble lady and that of one of the citizen 
class. Her dress had been the same for several years. A 
neat little cap with wings very well became her small head 
and delicate face, and her brown or gray clothing gave repose 
and dignity to her presence. She spoke well, and always 
knew how to give importance to what she said by an expres- 
sion of feeling. Her conduct was perfectly the same towards 
everybody. But, with all this, the greatest peculiarity of 
her character is not yet expressed : it is difficult to designate 
it. She seemed to take interest in every thing, but really 
nothing acted upon her. She was gentle towards every one, 
and could endure every thing without suffering : the jests of 
her husband, the tenderness of her friends, the sweetness of 
her children, — to all this she replied in the same manner; 
and thus she always remained herself; without being affected 
in the world by good and evil, or in literature by excellence 
and weakness. To this disposition she owes that independ- 
ence which she maintains even to an advanced age, through 
many sad, nay, sorrowful, events. But, not to be unjust, I 
must state that her sons, then children of dazzling beauty, 
often elicited from her an expression different from that 
which served her for daily use. 

Thus I lived for a time in a wonderfully pleasant society, 
until Merck came with his family. Here arose at once new 
affinities ; for while the two ladies approached each other, 
Merck had come into closer contact with Herr von Laroche 
as a connoisseur of the world and of business, as a well- 
informed and travelled man. The boy associated himself 
with the boys ; and the daughters, of whom the eldest soon 
particularly attracted me, fell to my share. It is a very pleas- 
ant sensation when a new passion begins to stir in us, before 
the old one is quite extinct. Thus, when the sun is setting, 
one often likes to see the m6on rise on the opposite side, 
and takes delight in the double lustre of the two heavenly 
luminaries. 

There was now no lack of rich entertainment, either in or 
out of the house. We wandered about the spot, and ascended 



14G TRUTH AND FICTION 

Ehrenbreitstein on this side of the river, and the Carthaus 
on the other. The city, the Moselle-bridge, the ferry which 
took ns over the Rhine, all gave ns the most varied delight. 
The new castle was not yet built : we were taken to the place 
where it was to stand, and allowed to see the preparatory 
sketches. 

Nevertheless, amid those cheerful circumstances was inter- 
nally developed that element of unsociableness, which, both 
In cultivated and uncultivated circles, ordinarily shows its 
malign effects. Merck, at once cold and restless, had not 
long listened to that correspondence before he uttered aloud 
many waggish notions concerning the things which were the 
subjects of discourse, as well as the persons and their cir- 
cumstances ; while he revealed to me in secret the oddest 
things, which really were concealed under them. Political 
secrets were never touched on, nor, indeed, any thing that 
could have had a definite connection : he only made me at- 
tentive to persons, who, without remarkable talents, contrive, 
by a certain tact, to obtain personal influence, and, by an 
acquaintance w T ith many, try to make something out of them- 
selves ; and from this time forwards I had opportunity to 
observe several men of the sort. Since such persons usually 
change their place, and as travellers come, now here, now 
there, they have the advantage of novelty, which should 
neither be envied nor spoiled ; for this is a mere customary 
matter, which every traveller has often experienced to his 
benefit, and every resident to his detriment. 

Be that as it may, it is enough, that, from that time for- 
ward, we cherished an uneasy, nay, envious, attention to 
people of the sort, who w r ent about on their own account, 
cast anchor in every city, and sought to gain an influence, 
at least, in some families. I have represented a tender and 
soft specimen of these guild brethren in ' ' Pater Brey ; ' 
another, of more aptness and bluntness, in a carnival play 
to be hereafter published, which bears the title, " Satyros, 
or the deified Wood-devil." This I have done, if not with 
fairness, at least with good humor. 

However, the strange elements of our little society still 
worked quite tolerably one upon another : we were partly 
united by our own manner and style of breeding, and partly 
restrained by the peculiar conduct of our hostess, who, being 
but lightly touched by that which passed around her, always 
resigned herself to certain ideal notions, and, while she un- 
derstood how to utter them in a friendly and benevolent 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 147 

way, contrived to soften every thing sharp that might arise 
i\) the company, and to smooth down all that was uneven. 

Merck had sounded a retreat just at the right time, so that 
the party separated on the best of terms. I went with him 
and his in a yacht, which was returning up the Rhine towards 
Mayence ; and, although this vessel went very slowly of 
itself, we nevertheless besought the captain not to hurry him- 
self. Thus we enjoyed at leisure the infinitely various ob- 
jects, which, in the most splendid weather, seem to increase 
in beauty every hour, and, both in greatness and agreeable- 
ness, ever to change anew ; and I only wish, that while I 
utter the names, Eheinfels and St. Goar, Baeharach, Bingen, 
Ellfeld, and Biberich, every one of my readers may be able 
to recal these spots to memory. 

We had sketched industriously, and had thus, at least, 
gained a deeper impression of the thousand-fold changes of 
those splendid shores. At the same time, by being so much 
longer together, by a familiar communication on so many 
sorts of things, our connection became so much the more 
intimate, that Merck gained a great influence over me ; and 
I, as a good companion, became indispensable to him for a 
comfortable existence. My eye, sharpened by nature, again 
turned to the contemplation of art, for which the beautiful 
Frankfort collections afforded me the best opportunity, both 
in paintings and engravings ; and I have been much indebted 
to the kindness of MM. Ettling and Ehrenreich, but espe- 
cially to the excellent Nothnagel. To see nature in art be- 
came with me a passion, which, in its highest moments, must 
have appeared to others, passionate amateurs as they might 
be, almost like madness ; and how could such an inclination 
be better fostered than by a constant observation of the ex- 
cellent works of the Netherlanders ? That I might make 
myself practically acquainted with these things, Nothnagel 
gave me a little room, where I found every thing that was 
requisite for oil-painting, and painted after nature some 
simple subjects of still life, one of which, a tortoise-shell 
knife-handle, inlaid with silver, so astonished my master who 
had last visited me an hour before, that he maintained one 
of his subordinate artists must have been with me during the 
time. 

Had I patiently gone on practising on such objects, catching 
their light, and the peculiarities of their surface, I might have 
formed a sort of practical skill, and made a way for something 
higher. I was, however, prevented by the fault of all dilet- 



148 TRUTH AND FICTION 

tantes, — that of beginning with what is most difficult, and 
ever wishing to perform the impossible ; and I soon involved 
myself in greater undertakings, in which I stuck fast, both 
because they were beyond my technical capabilities, and 
because I could not always maintain pure and operative that 
loving attention and patient industry by which even the 
beginner accomplishes something. 

At the same time, I was once more carried into a higher 
sphere, by finding an opportunity of purchasing some fine 
plaster casts of antique heads. The Italians, who visit the 
fairs, often brought with them good specimens of the kind, 
and sold them cheap, after they had taken moulds of them. 
In this manner I set uj) for myself a little museum ; as I 
gradually brought together the heads of the Laocoon, his 
sons, and Niobe's daughters. I also bought miniature cop- 
ies of the most important works of antiquity from the estate 
of a deceased friend of art, and thus sought once more to 
revive, as much as possible, the great impression which I 
had received at Mannheim. 

While I was endeavoring to cultivate, foster, and maintain 
all the talent, taste, or other inclination that might live within 
me, I applied a good part of the day, according to my fa- 
ther's wish, in the duties of an advocate, for the practice of 
which I chanced to find the best opportunity. After the 
death of my grandfather, my uncle Textor had come into the 
council, and consigned to me the little offices to which I was 
equal ; while the brothers Schlosser did the same. I made 
myself acquainted with the documents : my father also read 
them with much pleasure ; as, by means of his son, he again 
saw himself in an activity of which he had been long de- 
prived. We talked the matters over, and with great facility : 
I then made the necessary statements. We had at hand an 
excellent copyist, on whom one could rely for all legal for- 
malities ; and this occupation was the more agreeable to me, 
as it brought me closer to my father, who, being perfectly 
satisfied with my conduct in this respect, readily looked with 
an eye of indulgence on all my other pursuits, in the ardent 
expectation that I should now soon gather in a harvest of 
fame as an author. 

Since, in every epoch, all things are connected together, 
because the ruling views and opinions are ramified in the 
most various manner ; so in the science of law those maxims 
were gradually pursued, according to which religion and 
morals were treated. Among the attorneys, as the younger 




RELATING TO MY LIFE. 149 

eople, and then among the judges, as the elder, a spirit of 
umanity was diffused ; and all vied with each other in being 
as humane as possible, even in legal affairs. Prisons were 
improved, crimes excused, punishments lightened, legitima- 
tions rendered easy, separations and unequal marriages en- 
couraged ; and one of our eminent lawyers gained for himself 
the highest fame, when he contrived, by hard fighting, to 
gain for the son of an executioner an entrance into the col- 
lege of surgeons. In vain did guilds and corporations op- 
pose : one dam after another was broken through. The 
toleration of the religious parties towards each other was 
not merely taught, but practised ; and the civil constitution 
was threatened with a still greater influence, when the effort 
was made to recommend to that good-humored age, with 
understanding, acuteness, and power, toleration towards the 
Jews. Those new subjects for legal treatment, which lay 
without the law and tradition, and only laid claim to a fair 
examination, to a kindly sympathy, required, at the same 
time, a more natural and animated style. Here for us, the 
youngest, was opened a cheerful field, in which we bustled 
about with delight ; and I still recollect that an imperial coun- 
cillor's agent, in a case of the sort, sent me a very polite 
letter of commendation. The French plaidoyes served us 
for patterns and for stimulants. 

We were thus on the way to become better orators than 
jurists, a fact to which George Schlosser once called my 
attention, blaming me while doing so. I told him that I had 
read to my clients a controversy, written with much energy, 
in their favor, at which they had shown the greatest satis- 
faction. To this he replied, "In this case you have proved 
more an author than an advocate. We must never ask how 
such a paper may please the client, but how it may please 
the judge." 

As the occupations to which one devotes his day are never 
so serious and pressing that he cannot find time enough in 
the evening to go to the play ; so it was with me, who, in the 
want of a really good stage, did not cease thinking of the 
German theatre, in order to discover how one might co-ope- 
rate upon it with any degree of activity. Its condition in 
the second half of the last century is sufficiently known, and 
every one who wishes to be instructed about it finds assist- 
ance at hand everywhere. On this account I only intend to 
insert here a few general remarks. 

The success of the stage rested more upon the personality 



150 TRUTH AND FICTION 

of the actors than upon the value of the pieces. This was 
especially the case with pieces half or wholly extemporized, 
when every thing depended on the humor and talent of the 
comic actors. The matter of such plays must be taken from 
the commonest life, in conformity with the people before 
whom they are acted. From this immediate application 
arises the greatest applause, which these plays have always 
gained. They were always at home in South Germany, 
where they are retained to the present day ; and the change 
of persons alone renders it necessary to give, from time to 
time, some change to the character of the farcical masks. 
However, the German theatre, in conformity with the serious 
character of the nation, soon took a turn towards the moral, 
which was still more accelerated by an external cause. For 
the question arose, among strict Christians, whether the 
theatre belonged to those sinful things which are to be 
shunned at all events, or to those indifferent things which 
may turn out good for the good, and bad for the bad. Some 
zealots denied the latter, and held fast the opinion that no 
clergyman should ever enter the theatre. Now, the opposite 
opinion could not be maintained with energy, unless the 
theatre was declared to be not only harmless, but even use- 
ful. To be useful, it must be moral ; and in this direction 
it developed itself in North Germany the more as, by a sort 
of half- taste, the comic character 1 was banished, and, al- 
though intelligent persons took his part, was forced to retire, 
having already gone from the coarseness of the German 
Ilanswurst (jack-pudding) into the neatness and delicacy of 
the Italian and French harlequins. Even Scapin and Crispin 
gradually vanished : the latter I saw played for the last time 
by Koch in his old age. 

Richardson's novels had already made the middle classes 
attentive to a more delicate morality. The severe and inevit- 
able consequences of a feminine faux pas were analyzed in 
a frightful manner in " Clarissa." Lessing's "Miss Sara 
Sampson " treated the same theme, whilst " The Merchant 
of London" exhibited a misguided youth in the most terri- 
ble situation. The French dramas had the same end, but 
proceeded more moderately, and contrived to please by some 
accommodation at the end. Diderot's " Pe re de Famille," 
"The Honorable Criminal," " The Vinegar Dealer," "The 
Philosopher without knowing it," "Eugenie," and other 

1 " Die lustige person." That is to Bay, the permanent buffoon, like " Kasperle " 
in the German puppet-shows, or " Siranarello " in Moliere's broad comedies. — Trau^ 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 151 

works of the sort, suited that honest feeling of citizen and 
family which began more and more to prevail. With us, 
^ The Grateful Son," " The Deserter from Parental Love,' 5 
and all of their kin, went the same way. " The Minister/' 
" Clementim," and other pieces by Gehler, " The German 
Father of a Family," by Gemming, all brought agreeably to 
view the worth of the middle and even of the lower class, 
and delighted the great public. Eckhof , by his noble per- 
sonality, which gave to the actor's profession a dignity in 
which it had hitherto been deficient, elevated to an uncom- 
mon degree the leading characters in. such pieces ; since, as 
an honest man, the expression of honesty succeeded with 
him to perfection. 

While now the German theatre was completely inclining 
to effeminacy, Schroder arose as both author and actor, and, 
prompted by the connection between Hamburg and England, 
adapted some English comedies. The material of these he 
could only use in the most general way, since the originals 
are for the most part formless ; and, if they begin well and 
according to a certain plan, they wander from the mark at 
last. The sole concern of their authors seems to be the in- 
troduction of the oddest scenes ; and whoever is accustomed 
to a sustained work of art, at last unwillingly finds himself 
driven into the boundless. Besides this, a wild, immoral, 
vulgarly dissolute tone so decidedly pervades the whole, to 
an intolerable degree, that it must have been difficult to de- 
prive the plan and the characters of all their bad manners. 
They are a coarse, and, at the same time, dangerous, food, 
which can only be enjoyed and digested by a large and half- 
corrupted populace at a certain time. Schroder did more 
for these things than is usually known :. he thoroughly al- 
tered them, assimilated them to the German mind, and soft- 
ened them as much as possible. But still a bitter kernel 
alwa} T s remains in them ; because the joke often depends on 
the ill-usage of persons, whether they deserve it or not. In 
these performances, which were also widely spread upon our 
stage, lay a secret counterpoise to that too delicate morality ; 
and the action of both kinds of drama against each other 
fortunately prevented the monotony into which people would 
otherwise have fallen. 

The Germans, kind and magnanimous by nature, like to 
see no one ill-treated. But as no man, of however good a 
disposition, is safe having something put upon him contrary 
to his inclination, and as, moreover, comedy in general, if 



152 TRUTH AND FICTION 

it is to please, always presupposes or awakens something of 
malice in the spectator ; so, by a natural path, did people 
come to a conduct which hitherto had been deemed unnatu- 
ral : this consisted in lowering the higher classes, and more 
or less attacking them. Satire, whether in prose or verse, 
had always avoided touching the court and nobility. Rabe- 
ner refrained from all jokes in that direction, and remained 
in a lower circle. Zacharia occupies himself much with 
country noblemen, comically sets forth their tastes and pe- 
culiarities ; but this is done without contempt. Thummel's 
" Wilhelmine," an ingenious little composition, as pleasant 
as it is bold, gained great applause, perhaps because the au- 
thor, himself 'a nobleman and courtier, treated his own class 
unsparingly. But the boldest step was taken by Lessing, in 
his " Emilia Galotti," where the passions and intrigues of 
the higher classes are delineated in a bitter and cutting man- 
ner. All these things perfectly corresponded to the excited 
spirit of the time ; and men of less mind and talent thought 
they might do the same, or even more : as indeed Grossmann, 
in six unsavory dishes, served up to the malicious public all 
the tidbits of his vulgar kitchen. An honest man, Hofrath 
Rcinhardt, was the major domo at this unpleasant board, to 
the comfort and edification of all the guests. From this 
time forward the theatrical villains were always chosen from 
the higher ranks ; and a person had to be a gentleman of the 
bedchamber, or at least a private secretary, to be worth}' of 
such a distinction. But for the most godless examples, the 
highest offices and places in the court and civil list were 
chosen, in which high society, even the justiciaries, found 
their place as villains of the first water. 

But, as I must fear already that I have been carried beyond 
the time which is now the subject in hand, I return to what 
concerns me, in order to mention the impulse which I felt 
to occupy myself in my leisure hours with the theatrical plans 
which I had once devised. 

. By my lasting interest in Shakspeare's works, I had so 
expanded my mind, that the narrow compass of the stage, 
and the short time allotted to a representation, seemed to me 
by no means sufficient to bring forward something important. 
The life of the gallant Gotz von Berlichingen, written by 
himself, impelled me into the historic mode of treatment ; 
and my imagination so much extended itself, that my dra- 
matic form also went beyond all theatrical bounds, and 
sought more and more to approach the living events. I had,. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 153 

as I proceeded, talked circumstantially on this subject with 
my sister, who was interested, heart and soul, in such things, 
and renewed this conversation so often, without going to any 
work, that she at last, growing impatient, and at the same 
time wishing me well, urgently entreated me not to be always 
casting my words into the air, but, once for all, to set down 
upon paper that which must have been so present to my 
mind. Determined by this impulse, I began one morning to 
write, without having made any previous sketch or plan. I 
wTote the first scenes, and in the evening they were read 
aloud to Cornelia. She gave them much applause, but only 
conditionally, since she doubted that I should go on so ; nay, 
she even expressed a decided unbelief in my perseverance. 
This only incited me the more : I wrote on the next day, and 
also the third. Hope increased with the daily communica- 
tions, and from step to step every thing gained more life ; 
while the matter, moreover, had become thoroughly my own. 
Thus I kept, without interruption, to my work, which I pur- 
sued straight on, looking neither backward nor forward, 
neither to the right nor to the left ; and in about six weeks 
I had the pleasure to see the manuscript stitched. I com- 
municated it to Merck, who spoke sensibly and kindly about 
it. I sent it to Herder, who, on the contrary, expressed 
himself unkindly and severely, and did not fail, in some 
lampoons written for the occasion, to give me nicknames on 
account of it. I did not allow myselt* to be perplexed by 
this, but took a clear view of my object. The die was now 
cast ; and the only question was, how to play the game best. 
I plainly saw that even here no one would advise me ; and, 
as after some time I could regard my work as if it had pro- 
ceeded from another hand, I indeed perceived, that, in my 
attempt to renounce unity of time and place, I had also in- 
fringed upon that higher unity which is so much the more 
required. Since, without plan or sketch, I had merely aban- 
doned myself to my imagination and to an internal impulse, 
I had not deviated much at the beginning, and the first acts 
could fairly pass for what they were intended to be. In the 
following acts, however, and especially towards the end, I 
was unconsciously carried along by a wonderful passion. 
While trying to describe Adelheid as amiable, I had fallen 
in love with her myself, — my pen was involuntarily devoted 
to her alone, — the interest in her fate gained the preponder- 
ance ; and as, apart from this consideration, Gotz, towards 
the end, is without activity, and afterwards only returns to 



154 TRUTH AND FICTION 

an imlucKy participation in the " Bauernkriegv' * nothing 
was more natural than that a charming woman should sup- 
plant him in the mind of the author, who, casting off the 
fetters of art, thought to try himself in a new field. This 
defect, or rather this culpable superfluity, I soon perceived ; 
since the nature of my poetry always impelled me to unity. 
I now, instead of the biography of Gotz and German antiq- 
uities, kept my own work in mind, and sought to give it 
more and more historical and national substance, and to can- 
cel that which was fabulous or merely proceeded from pas- 
sion. In this I indeed sacrificed much, as the inclination 
of the man had to yield to the conviction of the artist. Thus, 
for instance, I had pleased myself highly by making Adel- 
heid enter in a terrific nocturnal gypsy-scene, and perform 
wonders by her beautiful presence. A nearer examination 
banished her ; and the love-affair between Franz and his 
noble, gracious lady, which was very circumstantially carried 
on in the fourth and fifth acts, was much condensed, and 
could only be suffered to appear in its chief points. 

Therefore, without altering any thing in the first manu- 
script, which I still actually possess in its original shape, I 
determined to re- write the whole, and did this with such ac- 
tivity, that in a few weeks an entirely new-made piece lay 
before me. I went to work upon this all the quicker, the 
less my intention was ever to have the second poem printed ; 
as I looked upon this likewise as a mere preparatory exercise, 
which in future I should again lay at the foundation of a 
new treatment, to be accomplished with greater industry and 
deliberation. 

When I began to lay before Merck many proposals as to 
the way in which I should set about this task, he laughed at 
me, and asked what was the meaning of this perpetual writ- 
ing and re-writing? The thing, he said, by this means, be- 
comes only different, and seldom better: one must see what 
effect one thing produces, and then again try something new. 
4t Be in time at the hedge, if you would dry your linen ! " - 
lie exclaimed, in the works of the proverb : hesitation and 
delay only make uncertain men. On the other hand, I re- 
plied to him, that it would be unpleasant to me to offer to a 
bookseller a work on which I had bestowed so much affec- 
tion, and perhaps to receive a refusal as an answer ; for 
how would they judge of a young, nameless, and also auda- 

1 The peasant war, answering to the Jaquerie in France. — Traxs. 

2 Anglici, : Make hay when the sun shines. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 155 

cious, author? As my dread of the press gradually vanished, 
I had wished to see printed my comedy " Die Mitschuldi- 
gen," upon which I set some value ; but I found no publisher 
inclined in my favor. 

Here the technically mercantile taste of my friend was at 
once excited. By means of the " Frankfort Zeitung" (Ga- 
zette) , he had already formed a connection with learned men 
and booksellers ; and therefore he thought that we ought to 
publish at our own expense this singular and certainly strik- 
ing work, and that we should derive a larger profit from it. 
Like many others, he used often to reckon up for the book- 
sellers their profit, which with many works was certainly 
great, especially if one left out of the account how much was 
lost by other writings and commercial affairs. In short, it 
was settled that I should procure the paper, and that he 
should take care of the printing. Thus we went heartily to 
work, and I was not displeased gradually to see my wild 
dramatic sketch in clean proof-sheets : it looked really neater 
than I myself expected. We completed the work, and it 
was sent off in many parcels. Before long a great commo- 
tion arose everywhere : the attention which it created became 
universal. But because, with our limited means, the copies 
could not be sent quickly enough to all parts, a pirated edi- 
tion suddenly made its appearance. As, moreover, there 
could be no immediate return, especially in ready money, for 
the copies sent out, so was I, as a young man in a family 
whose treasury could not be in an abundant condition, at the 
very time when much attention, nay, much applause, was 
bestowed upon me, extremely perplexed as to how I should 
pay for the paper by means of which I had made the world 
acquainted with my talent. On the other hand, Merck, who 
knew better how to help himself, entertained the best hopes 
that all would soon come right again ; but I never perceived 
that to be the case. 

Through the little pamphlets which I had published anony- 
mously, I had, at my own expense, become acquainted with 
the critics and the public ; and I was thus pretty well pre- 
pared for praise and blame, especially as for many years I 
had constantly followed up the subject, and had observed 
how those authors were treated to whom I had devoted par- 
ticular attention. 

Here, even in my uncertainty, I could plainly perceive how 
much that was unfounded, one-sided, and arbitrary, was 
recklessly uttered. Now the same thing befell me ; and, if I 



156 TRUTH AND FICTION 

had not had some basis of my own, how much would the 
contradictions of cultivated men have perplexed me ! Thus, 
for instance, there was in " The German Mercury " a diffuse, 
w ell-meant criticism, composed by some man of limited 
mind. Where he found fault, I could not agree with him, — 
still less when he stated how the affair could have been done 
otherwise. It was therefore highly gratifying to me, when 
immediately afterwards I found a pleasant explanation by 
Wieland, who in general opposed the critic, and took my 
part against him. However, the former review was printed 
likewise : I saw an example of the dull state of mind among 
well-informed and cultivated men. How, then, would it look 
with the great public? 

The pleasure of talking over such things with Merck, and 
thus gaining light upon them, was of short duration ; for the 
intelligent Landgravine of Hesse-Darmstadt took him with 
her train on her journey to Petersburg. The detailed letters 
which he wrote to me gave me a farther insight into the 
world, which I could the more make my own as the descrip- 
tions were made by a well-known and friendly hand. But 
nevertheless I remained very solitary for a long time, and 
was deprived just at this important epoch of his enlightening 
sympathy, of which I then stood in so much need. 

For as one may happen to form the resolution of becoming 
a soldier, and of going to the wars, and courageously deter- 
mines to bear danger and difficulties, as well as to endure 
wounds and pains, and even death, but at the same time 
never calls to mind the particular cases in which those gener- 
ally anticipated evils may surprise us in an extremely un- 
pleasant manner ; so it is with every one who ventures into 
the world, especially an author : and so it was with me. As 
the great part of mankind is more excited by a subject than 
by the treatment of it, so it w r as to the subject that the sym- 
pathy of young men for my pieces was generally owing. 
They thought they could see in them a banner under the 
guidance of which all that is wild and unpolished in youth 
might find a vent ; and those of the very best brains, who 
had previously harbored a similar crotchet, were thus carried 
away. I still possess a letter — I know not to whom — from 
the excellent, and, in many respects, unique, Burger, which 
may serve as an important voucher of the effect and excite- 
ment which was then produced by that phenomenon. On 
the other side, some men blamed me for painting the club- 
law in too favorable colors, and even attributed to me the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 157 

intention of bringing those disorderly times back again. 
Others took me for a profoundly learned man, and wished 
me to publish a new edition, with notes, of the original nar- 
rative of the good Gotz, — a task to which I felt by no means 
adapted, although I allowed my name to be put on the title 
to the new impression. Because I had understood how to 
gather the flowers of a great existence, they took me for a 
careful gardener. However, this learning and profound 
knowledge of mine were much doubted by others. A re- 
spectable man of business quite unexpectedly pays me a 
visit. I considered myself highly honored by this, especially 
when he opened his discourse with the praise of my c c Gotz 
von Berlichingen," and my good insight into German history ; 
but I was nevertheless astonished when I perceived that he 
had really come for the sole purpose of informing me that 
Gotz von Berlichingen was not a brother-in-law to Franz von 
Sichingen, and that therefore, by this poetical matrimonial 
alliance, I have committed a great historical error. In excuse 
I pleaded the fact, that Gotz himself calls him so, but was 
met by the reply, that this is a form of expression which 
only denotes a nearer and more friendly connection, just as 
in modern times we call postilions "brothers-in-law," 1 
without being bound to them by any family tie. I thanked 
him as well as I could for this information, and only re- 
gretted that the evil was now not to be remedied. This was 
regretted by him also ; while he exhorted me in the kindest 
manner to a further study of the German history and consti- 
tution, and offered me his library, of which I afterwards 
made a good use. 

A droll event of the sort which occurred to me, was the 
visit of a bookseller, who, with cheerful openness, requested 
a dozen of such pieces, and promised to pay well for them. 
That we made ourselves very merry about this may be ima- 
gined : and yet, in fact, he was not so very far wrong ; for I 
was already greatly occupied in moving backwards and for- 
wards from this turning-point in German history, and in 
working up the chief events in a similar spirit, — a laudable 
design, which, like many others, was frustrated by the rush- 
ing flight of time. 

That play, however, had not solely occupied the author ; 
but while it was devised, written, re-written, printed, and 
circulated, other images and plans were moving in his mind. 

1 It is a German peculiarity to apply the word " Schwager" (brother -in-law) wO a 
postilion. — Trans. 



158 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Those which could be treated dramatically had the advantage 
of being oftenest thought over and brought near to execu- 
tion ; but at the same time was developed a transition to 
another form, which is not usually classed with those of the 
drama, but yet has a great affinity with them. This transi- 
tion was chiefly brought about by a peculiarity of the author, 
which fashioned soliloquy into dialogue. 

Accustomed to pass his time most pleasantly in society, 
he changed even solitary thought into social converse, and 
this in the following manner : He had the habit, when he 
was alone, of calling before his mind any person of his 
acquaintance. This person he entreated to sit down, walked 
up and down by him, remained standing before him, and 
discoursed with him on the subject he had in his mind. To 
this the person answered as occasion required, or by the 
ordinary gestures signified his assent or dissent, — in which 
every man has something peculiar to himself. The speaker 
then continued to carry out further that which seemed to 
please the guest, or to qualify and define more nearly that 
of w r hich he disapproved, and, finally, was polite enough to 
give up his notion. The oddest part of the affair w r as, that 
he never selected persons of his intimate acquaintance, but 
those whom he saw but seldom, nay, several who lived at a 
distance in the world, and with whom he had had a transient 
connection. They were, however, chiefly persons who, more 
of a receptive than communicative nature, are ready with a 
pure feeling to take interest in the things which fall within 
their sphere ; though he often summoned contradicting spirits 
to these dialectic exercises. Persons of both sexes, of every 
age and rank, accommodated themselves to these discussions, 
and showed themselves obliging and agreeable ; since he only 
conversed on subjects which w r ere clear to them, and which 
they liked. Nevertheless, it would have appeared extremely 
strange to many of them, could they have learned how often 
they were summoned to these ideal conversations ; since many 
of them w r ould scarcely have come to a real one. 

How nearly such a mental dialogue is akin to a written 
correspondence, is plain enough : only in the latter one sees 
returned the confidence one has bestowed ; while, in the 
former, one creates for one's self a confidence which is new, 
ever-changing, and un returned. When, therefore, he had to 
describe that disgust which men, without being driven by ne- 
cessity, feel for life, the author necessarily hit at once upon 
the plan of giving his sentiments in letters : for all gloomi- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 159 

ness is a birth, a pupil, of solitude ; whoever resigns him- 
self to it flies all opposition, and what is more opposed to 
him than a cheerful society? The enjoyment in life felt br- 
others is to him a painful reproach ; and thus, by that which 
should charm him out of himself, he is directed back to his 
inmost soul. If he at all expresses an opinion on this mat- 
ter, it will be by letters ; for no one feels immediately 
opposed to a written effusion, whether it be joyful or gloomy : 
while an answer containing opposite reasons gives the lonely 
one an opportunity to confirm himself in his whims, — an 
occasion to grow still more obdurate. The letters of 
Wcrther, which are written in this spirit, have so various a 
charm, precisely because their different contents were first 
talked over with several individuals in such ideal dialogues ; 
while it was afterwards in the composition itself that they 
appeared to be directed to one friend and sympathizer. To 
say more on the treatment of a little book which has formed 
the subject of so much discussion would hardly be advisa- 
ble ; but, with respect to the contents, something may yet be 
added. 

That disgust with life has its physical and its moral 
causes : the former we will leave to the investigation of the 
physician, the latter to that of the moralist, and, in a matter 
so often elaborated, only consider the chief point, where the 
phenomenon most plainly expresses itself. All comfort in 
life is based upon a regular recurrence of external things. 
The change of day and night, of the seasons, of flowers and 
fruits, and whatever else meets us from epoch to epoch, so 
that we can and should enjoy it, — these are the proper 
springs of earthly life. The more open we are to these en- 
joyments, the happier do we feel ourselves ; but if the 
changes in these phenomena roll up and down before us 
without our taking interest in them, if we are insensible to 
such beautiful offers, then comes on the greatest evil, the 
heaviest disease : we regard life as a disgusting burden. 
It is said of an Englishman, that he hanged himself that he 
might no longer dress and undress himself every day. I 
knew a worthy gardener, the superintendent of the laying- 
out of a large park, who once cried out with vexation, 
" Shall I always see these clouds moving from east to 
west? " The story is told of one of our most excellent men, 
that he saw with vexation the returning green of spring, and 
wished, that by way of change, it might once appear red. 
These are properly the symptoms of a weariness of life. 



160 TRUTH AND FICTION 

which does not unfreqnently result in suicide, and which in 
thinking men, absorbed in themselves, was more frequent 
than can be imagined. 

Nothing occasions this weariness more than the return of 
love. The first love, it is rightly said, is the only one ; for 
in the second, and by the second, the highest sense of love 
is already lost. The conception of the eternal and infinite, 
which elevates and supports it, is destroyed ; and it appears 
transient like every thing else that recurs. The separation 
of the sensual from the moral, which, in the complicated, 
cultivated world sunders the feelings of love and desire, pro- 
duces here also an exaggeration which can lead to no good. 

Moreover, a young man soon perceives in others, if not in 
himself, that moral epochs change as well as the seasons of 
the year. The graciousness of the great, the favor of the 
strong, the encouragement of the active, the attachment of 
the multitude, the love of individuals, — all this changes up 
and down ; and we can no more hold it fast than the sun, 
moon, and stars. And yet these things are not mere nat- 
ural events ; they escape us either by our own or by another's 
fault ; but change they do, and we are never sure of them. 

But that which most pains a sensitive youth, is the unceas- 
ing return of our faults ; for how late do we learn to see, that, 
while we cultivate our virtues, we rear our faults at the same 
time ! The former depend upon the latter as upon their root, 
and the latter send forth secret ramifications as strong and 
as various as those which the former send forth in open light. 
Because, now, we generally practise our virtues with will and 
consciousness, but are unconsciously surprised by our faults, 
the former seldom procure us any pleasure, while the latter 
constantly bring trouble and pain. Here lies the most diffi- 
cult point in self-knowledge, that which makes it almost im- 
possible. If we conceive, in addition to all this, young, 
boiling blood, an imagination easily to be paralyzed by single 
objects, and, moreover, the uncertain movements of the day, 
we shall not find unnatural an impatient striving to free one's 
self from such a strait. 

However, such gloomy contemplations, which lead him 
who has resigned himself to them into the infinite, could not 
have developed themselves so decidedly in the minds of the 
German youths, had not an outward occasion excited and 
furthered them in this dismal business. This was caused by 
English literature, especially the poetical part, the great 
beauties of which are accompanied by an earnest melancholy 3 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 161 

which it communicates to every one who occupies himself 
with it. The intellectual Briton, from his youth upwards, 
sees himself surrounded by a significant world, which stim- 
ulates all his powers : he perceives, sooner or later, that he 
must collect all his understanding to come to terms with it. 
How many of their poets have in their youth led a loose and 
riotous life, and soon found themselves justified in com- 
plaining of the vanity of earthly things ! How many of 
them have tried their fortune in worldly occupations, have 
taken parts, principal or subordinate, in parliament, at court, 
in the ministry, in situations with the embassy, shown their 
active co-operation in the internal troubles and changes of 
state and government, and, if not in themselves, at any rate 
in their friends and patrons, more frequently made sad than 
pleasant experiences ! How many have been banished, im- 
prisoned, or robbed of their property ! 

Even the circumstance of being the spectator of such 
great events calls man to seriousness ; and whither can seri- 
ousness lead farther than to a contemplation of the transient 
nature and w r orthlessness of all earthly things? The German 
also is serious ; and thus English poetry was extremely suit- 
able to him, and, because it proceeded from a higher state of 
things, even imposing. One finds in it throughout a great, 
apt understanding, well practised in the world ; a deep, tender 
heart; an excellent will ; an impassioned action, — the very 
noblest qualities which can be praised in an intellectual and 
cultivated man ; but all this put together still makes no poet. 
True poetry announces itself thus, that, as a worldly gospel, 
it can by internal cheerfulness and external comfort free us 
from the earthly burdens which press upon us. Like an air- 
balloon, it lifts us, together with the ballast which is attached 
to us, into higher regions, and lets the confused labyrinths 
of the earth lie developed before us as in a bird's-eye view. 
The most lively, as well as the most serious, works, have the 
same aim of moderating both pleasure and pain by a felici- 
tous intellectual form. Let us only in this spirit consider 
the majority of the English poems, chiefly morally didactic, 
and on the average they will only show us a gloomy weariness 
of life. Not only Young's " Night Thoughts," where this 
theme is pre-eminently worked out, but even the other con- 
templative poems stray, before one is aware of it, into this 
dismal region, where the understanding is presented with a 
problem which it cannot solve ; since even religion, much as it 
can always construct for itself, leaves it in the lurcho Whole 



162 TRUTH AND FICTION 

volumes might be compiled, which could serve as a commen- 
tary to this frightful text : — 

14 Then old age and experience, hand in hand, 
Lead him to death, and make him understand, 
After a search so painful and so long, 
That all his life he has been in the wrong." 

What further makes the English poets thorough misan- 
thropes, and diffuses over their writings the unpleasant feeling 
of repugnance against every thing, is the fact, that the whole 
of them, on account of the various divisions of their com- 
monwealth, must devote themselves for the best part, if not 
for the whole, of their lives to one party or another. Now, 
because a writer of the sort cannot praise and extol those of 
the party to which he belongs, nor the cause to which he ad- 
heres, since, if he did, he would only excite envy and hostil- 
ity, he exercises his talent in speaking as badly as possible 
of those on the opposite side, and in sharpening, nay, poi- 
soning, the satirical weapons as much as he can. When this 
is done by both parties, the world which lies between is de- 
stroyed and wholly annihilated ; so that, in a great mass of 
sensibly active people, one can discover, to use the mildest 
terms, nothing but folly and madness. Even their tender 
poems are occupied with mournful subjects. Here a deserted 
girl is dying ; there a faithful lover is drowned, or is devoured 
by a shark before, by his hurried swimming, he reaches his 
beloved ; and if a poet like Gray lies down in a churchyard, 
and again begins those well-known melodies, he, too, may 
gather round him a number of friends to melancholy. Mil- 
ton's "Allegro " has first to scare away gloom in vehement 
verses, before he can attain a very moderate pleasure ; and 
even the cheerful Goldsmith loses himself in elegiac feelings, 
when his " Deserted Village," as charmingly, as sadly, ex- 
hibits to us a lost paradise which his c ; Traveller ' ' seeks over 
the whole earth. 

I do not doubt that lively works, cheerful poems, can be 
brought forward and opposed to what I have said ; but the 
greatest number, and the best of them, certainly belong to 
the older epoch : and the newer works, which may be set 
down in the class, are likewise of a satirical tendency, are 
bitter, and treat women especially with contempt. 

In short, those serious poems, undermining human nature, 
which, in general terms, have been mentioned above, w r ere 
the favorites which we sought out before all others, one seek- 
ing, according to his disposition, the lighter elegiac melan- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 163 

choly, another the heavy, oppressive despair, which gives up 
every thing. Strangely enough, our father and instructor, 
Shakspeare, who so well knew how to diffuse a pure cheer- 
fulness, strengthened our feeling of dissatisfaction. Ham- 
let and his soliloquies were spectres which haunted all the 
young minds. The chief passages every one knew by heart 
and loved to recite ; and everybody fancied he had a right to 
be just as melancholy as the Prince of Denmark, though he 
had seen no ghost, and had no royal father to avenge. 

But that to all this melancholy a perfectly suitable locality 
might not be wanting, Ossian had charmed us even to the 
u Ultima Thule," where on a gray, boundless heath, wander- 
ing among prominent moss-covered gravestones, we saw the 
grass around us moved by an awful wind, and a heavily 
clouded sky above us. It was not till moonlight that the 
Caledonian night became day : departed heroes, faded maid- 
ens, floated around us, until at last we really thought we saw 
the spirit of Loda in his fearful form. 

In such an element, with such surrounding influences, with 
tastes and studies of this kind, tortured by unsatisfied pas- 
sions, by no means excited from without to important actions, 
with the sole prospect that we must adhere to a dull, spirit- 
less citizen life, we became — in gloomy wantonness — at- 
tached to the thought, that we could at all events quit life at 
pleasure, if it no longer suited us, and thus miserably enough 
helped ourselves through the disgusts and weariness of the 
days. This feeling was so general, that u Werther " pro- 
duced its great effect precisely because it struck a chord 
everywhere, and openly and intelligibly exhibited the internal 
nature of a morbid youthful delusion. How accurately the 
English were acquainted with this sort of wretchedness is 
shown by the few significant lines, written before the ap- 
pearance of u Werther ; " — 

" To griefs congenial prone, 
More wounds than nature gave he knew; 
While misery's form his fancy drew 
In dark ideal hues and horrors not its own." 

Suicide is an event of human nature, which, whatever may 
be said and done with respect to it, demands the sympathy 
of every man, and in every epoch must be discussed anew. 
Montesquieu grants his heroes and great men the right of 
killing themselves as they think fit, since he says that it must 
be free to every one to close the fifth act of his tragedy as he 
nleases. But the persons here alluded to are not such as have 



164 TRUTH AND FICTION 

led an active and important life, who have sacrificed their 
days for a great empire, or for the cause of freedom, and 
whom one cannot blame if they think to follow in another 
world the idea which inspires them, as soon as it has van- 
ished from the earth. We are here dealing with those whose 
life is embittered by a want of action, in the midst of the 
most peaceful circumstances in the world, through exagger- 
ated demands upon themselves. Having myself been in 
this predicament, and having known best the pain I then suf- 
fered, and the exertion it cost me to free myself, I will not 
conceal the reflections I made with much deliberation on the 
various kinds of death one might choose. 

There is something so unnatural in a man tearing himself 
away from himself, not only injuring, but destroying, himself, 
that he mostly seizes upon mechanical means to carry his 
design into execution. When Ajax falls upon his sword, it 
is the weight of his body which does him the last service. 
When the warrior binds his shield-bearer not to let him fall 
into the hands of the enemy, it is still an external force which 
he secures, only a moral instead of a physical one. Women 
seek in water a cooling for their despair, and the extremely 
mechanical means of fire-arms insure a rapid act with the 
very least exertion. Hanging, one does not like to mention, 
because it is an ignoble death. In England it is more likely 
to occur ; because there, from youth upwards, one sees so 
many hanged, without the punishment being precisely dis- 
honorable. By poison, by opening the veins, the only inten- 
tion is to depart slowly from life ; and that most refined, 
rapid, and painless death by an adder, was worth}' of a 
queen who had passed her life in pleasure and brilliancy. 
But all these are external aids, enemies with which man 
forms an alliance against himself. 

When I considered all these means, and looked about fur- 
ther in history, I found among all those who killed themselves 
no one who did this deed with such greatness and freedom of 
mind as the emperor Otho. He, having the worst of it as a 
general, but being by no means reduced to extremities, re- 
solves to quit the world for the benefit of the empire, which 
in some measure already belongs to him, and for the sake of 
sparing so many thousands. He has a cheerful supper with 
his friends, and the next morning it is found that he has 
plunged a sharp dagger into his heart. This deed alone 
seemed to me worthy of imitation ; and I was convinced, that 
whoever could not act in this like Otho, .had no right to go 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 165 

voluntarily out of the world. By these convictions I freed 
myself, not so much from the danger as from the whim of 
suicide, which in those splendid times of peace, and with an 
indolent youth, had managed to creep in. Among a consid- 
erable collection of weapons, I possessed a handsome, well- 
polished dagger. This I laid every night by nry bed ; and, 
before I extinguished the candle, I tried whether I could 
succeed in plunging the sharp point a couple of inches deep 
into my heart. Since I never could succeed in this, I at last 
laughed myself out of the notion, threw off all hypochondria- 
cal fancies, and resolved to live. But, to be able to do this 
with cheerfulness, I was obliged to solve a poetical problem, 
by which all that I had felt, thought, and fancied upon this 
important point should be reduced to words. For this pur- 
pose I collected the elements which had been at work in me 
for a few years, I rendered present to my mind the cases 
which had most afflicted and tormented me, but nothing 
would come to a definite form : I lacked an event, a fable, in 
which they could be overlooked. 

All at once I heard the news of Jerusalem's death, and, 
immediately after the general report, the most accurate and 
circumstantial description of the occurrence ; and at this 
moment the plan of " Werther " was formed, and the whole 
shot together from all sides, and became a solid mass, just 
as water in a vessel, which stands upon the point of freezing, 
is converted into hard ice by the most gentle shake. To 
hold fast this singular prize, to render present to myself, and 
to carry out in all its parts, a work of such important and 
various contents, w^as the more material to me, as I had again 
fallen into a painful situation, which left me even less hope 
than those which had preceded it, and foreboded only sadness, 
if not vexation. 

It is always a misfortune to step into new relations to 
which one has not been inured : we are often against our 
will lured into a false s} 7 mpathy, the incompleteness * of such 
positions troubles us ; and yet we see no means, either of 
completing them or of removing them. 

Frau von Laroche had married her eldest daughter at 
Frankfort, and often came to visit her, but could not recon- 
cile herself to the position which she herself had chosen. 
Instead of feeling comfortable, or endeavoring to make any 
alteration, she indulged in lamentations, so that one was 

1 " Halbheit," "Halfness" — if there were such a word — would be the proper 
expression. — Trans. 

Goethe— 6 Vol 2 



166 TRUTH AND FICTION 

really forced to think that her daughter was unhappy ; al- 
though as she wanted nothing, and her husband denied her 
nothing, one could not well see in what her unhappiness prop- 
erly consisted. In the mean time I was well received in 
the house, and came into contact with the whole circle, which 
consisted of persons who had partly contributed to the mar- 
riage, partly wished for it a happy result. The Dean of St. 
Leonhard, Dumeitz, conceived a confidence, nay, a friendship, 
for me. He was the first Catholic clergyman with whom I 
had come into close contact, and who, because he was a 
clear-sighted man, gave me beautiful and sufficient expla- 
nations of the faith, usages, and external and internal 
relations of the oldest church. The figure of a well-formed 
though not young lady, named Servieres, I still accurately 
remember. I likewise came into contact with the Alessina- 
Schweizer, and other families, forming a connection with the 
sons, which long continued in the most friendly manner, and 
all at once found myself domesticated in a strange circle, in 
the occupations, pleasures, and even religious exercises of 
which I was induced, nay, compelled, to take part. My 
former relation to the young wife, which was, properly speak- 
ing, only that of a brother to a sister, was continued after 
marriage ; my age was suitable to her own ; I was the only 
one in the whole circle in whom she heard an echo of those 
intellectual tones to which she had been accustomed from her 
youth. We lived on together in a childish confidence ; and, 
although there was nothing impassioned in our intercourse, 
it was tormenting enough, because she could not become 
reconciled to her new circumstances, and, although blessed 
with the goods of fortune, had to act as the mother of several 
step-children, being moreover transplanted from the cheerful 
vale of Ehrenbreitstein and a joyous state of youth into a 
gloomily situated mercantile house. Amid so many new 
family connections was I hemmed in, without any real par- 
ticipation or co-operation. If they were satisfied with each 
other, all seemed to go on as a matter of course ; but most 
of the parties concerned turned to me in cases of vexation, 
which by my lively sympathy I generally rendered worse rather 
than better. In a short time this situation became quite in- 
supportable to me : all the disgust at life which usually 
springs from such half-connections seemed to burden me 
with double and threefold weight, and a new strong resolu- 
tion was necessary to free myself from it. 

Jerusalem's death, which was occasioned by his unhappy 






RELATING TO MY LIFE. 1G7 

attachment to the wife of his friend, shook me out of the 
dream ; and because I not only visibly contemplated that 
which had occurred to him and me, but something similar, 
which befell me at the moment, also stirred me to passionate 
emotion, I could not do otherwise than breathe into that 
production, which I had just undertaken, all that warmth 
which leaves no distinction between the poetical and the 
actual. I had completely isolated myself, nay, prohibited 
the visits of my friends ; and internally also I put every thing 
aside that did not immediately belong to the subject. On 
the other hand, I embraced every thing that had any relation 
to my design, and repeated to myself my nearest life, of the 
contents of which I had as yet made no practical use. Under 
such circumstances, after such long and so many preparations 
in secret, I wrote " Werther" in four weeks, without any 
scheme of the whole, or treatment of any part, being pre- 
viously put on paper. 

The manuscript, which was now finished, lay before me as 
a rough draught, with few corrections and alterations. It 
was stitched at once, for the binding is to a written work 
of about the same use as the frame is to a picture : one can 
much better see whether there is really any thing in it. Since 
I had written thus much almost unconsciously, like a som- 
nambulist, I was myself astonished, now I went through it, 
that I might alter and improve it in some respects. But in 
the expectation, that after some time, when I had seen it at a 
certain distance, much would occur to me that would turn to 
the advantage of the work, I gave it to my younger friends 
to read, upon whom it produced an effect so much the greater, 
as, contrary to my usual custom, I had told no one of it, nor 
discovered my design beforehand. Yet here again it was 
the subject-matter which really produced the effect, and in 
this respect they were in a frame of mind precisely the reverse 
of my own ; for by this composition, more than by any 
other, I had freed myself from that stormy element, upon 
which, through my own fault and that of others, through a 
mode of life both accidental and chosen, through design and 
thoughtless precipitation, through obstinacy and pliability, I 
had been driven about in the most violent manner. I felt, 
as if after a general confession, once more happy and free, 
and justified in beginning a new life. 

The old nostrum had been of excellent service to me on 
this occasion. But, while I felt relieved and enlightened by 
having turned reality into poetry, my friends were led astray 



168 TRUTH AND FICTION 

by my work ; for they thought that poetry (Might to be turned 
into reality, that such a moral was to be imitated, and that, 
at any rate, one ought to shoot one's self. What had first hap- 
pened here among a few, afterwards took place among the 
larger public ; and this little book, which had been so beneficial 
to me, was decried as extremely injurious. 

But all the evils and misfortunes which it may have pro- 
duced were nearly prevented by an accident, since even after 
its production it ran the risk of being destroyed. The matter 
stood thus : Merck had lately returned from Petersburg ; I 
had spoken to him but little, because he was always occupied, 
and only told him, in the most general terms, of that 
" Werther " which lay next my heart. He once called upon 
me ; and, as he did not seem very talkative, I asked him to 
listen to me. He seated himself on the sofa ; and I began to 
read the tale, letter by letter. After I had gone on thus for 
a while, without luring from him any sign of admiration, I 
adopted a more pathetic strain ; but what were my feelings, 
when, at a pause which I made, he struck me down in the 
most frightful manner, with, " Well, that's very pretty," and 
withdrew without adding any thing more. I was quite beside 
myself ; for as I took great pleasure in my works, but at 
first passed no judgment on them, I here firmly believed that 
I had made a mistake in subject, tone, and st}de, — all of 
which were doubtful, — and had produced something quite 
inadmissible. Had a fire been at hand, I should at once 
have thrown in the work ; but I again plucked up courage, 
and passed many painful days, until he at last assured me, 
in confidence, that at that moment he had been in the most 
frightful situation in which a man can be placed. On this 
account, he said, he had neither seen nor heard any thing, 
and did not even know what the manuscript was about. In 
the mean time the matter had been set right, as far as was 
possible : and Merck, in the times of his energy, was just the 
man to accommodate himself to any thing monstrous ; his 
humor returned, only it had grown still more bitter than 
before. He blamed my design of re- writing " Werther," 
with the same expressions which he had used on a former 
occasion, and desired to see it printed just as it was. A 
fair copy was made, which did not remain long in my hands ; 
for, on the very day on which my sister was married to George 
Schlosser, a letter from Weygand of Leipzig chanced to 
arrive, in which he asked me for a manuscript : such a coin- 
cidence I looked upon as a favorable omen. I sent oft 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 169 

M Werther," and was very well satisfied, when the remu- 
neration I received for it was not entirely swallowed up by 
the debts which I had been forced to contract on account of 
u Gotz von Berlichingen." 

The effect of this little book was great, nay, immense, and 
chiefly because it exactly hit the temper of the times. For 
as it requires but a little match to blow up an immense mine, 
so the explosion which followed my publication was mighty, 
from the circumstance that the youthful world had already 
undermined itself ; and the shock was great, because all 
extravagant demands, unsatisfied passions, and imaginary 
wrongs were suddenly brought to an eruption. It cannot 
be expected of the public that it should receive an intel- 
lectual work intellectually. In fact, it was only the subject, 
the material part, that was considered, as I had already 
found to be the case among my own friends ; while at the 
same time arose that old prejudice, associated with the dig- 
nity of a printed book, — that it ought to have a moral aim. 
But a true picture of life has none. It neither approves 
nor censures, but develops sentiments and actions in their 
consequences, and thereby enlightens and instructs. 

Of the reviews I took little notice. The matter was set- 
tled, as far as I was concerned ; and the good folks might 
now try what they could make of it. Yet my friends did 
not fail to collect these things, and, as they were already 
initiated into my views, to make merry with them. The 
" Joys of Young Werther," with which Nicolai came forth, 
gave us occasion for many a jest. This otherwise excellent, 
meritorious, and well-informed man, had already begun to 
depreciate and oppose every thing that did not accord with 
his own way of thinking, which, as he was of a very narrow 
mind, he held to be the only correct way. Against me, too, 
he must needs try his strength ; and his pamphlet was soon 
in our hands. The very delicate vignette, by Chodowiecki, 
gave me much delight : as at that time I admired this artist 
extravagantly. The jumbling medley itself was cut out of 
that rough household stuff which the human understanding, 
in its homely limits, takes especial pains to make sufficiently 
coarse. Without perceiving that there was nothing here to 
qualify, that Werther' s youthful bloom, from the very first, 
appears gnawed by the deadly worm, Nicolai allows my 
treatment to pass current up to the two hundred and four- 
teenth page ; and then, when the desolate mortal is prepar- 
ing for the fatal step, the acute psychological physician 



170 TRUTH AND FICTION 

contrives to palm upon his patient a pistol, loaded with 
chiekens' blood, from which a filthy spectacle, but happily 
no mischief, arises. Charlotte becomes the wife of Werther, 
and the whole affair ends to the satisfaction of everybody. 

So much I can recall to memory, for the book never came 
before my eyes again. I had cut out the vignette, and 
placed it among my most favorite engravings. I then, by 
way of quiet, innocent revenge, composed a little burlesque 
poem, " Nicolai at the Grave of Werther," which, however, 
cannot be communicated. On this occasion, too, the pleas- 
ure of giving every thing a dramatic shape was again pre- 
dominant. I wrote a prose dialogue between Charlotte and 
Werther, which was tolerably comical : Werther bitterly 
complains that his deliverance by chickens' blood has turned 
out so badly. His life is saved, it is true ; but he has shot 
his eyes out. He is now in despair at being her husband, 
without being able to see her ; for the complete view of her 
person would to him be much dearer than all those pretty 
details of which he could assure himself by the touch. 
Charlotte, as may be imagined, has no great catch in a blind 
husband ; and thus occasion is given to abuse Nicolai pretty 
roundly for interfering unasked in other people's affairs. 
The whole was written in a good-natured spirit, and painted, 
with prophetic forebodings, that unhappy, conceited humoi 
of Nicolai' s, which led him to meddle with things beyond 
his compass, which gave great annoyance both to himself and 
others, and by which, eventually, in spite of his undoubted 
merits, he entirely destroyed his literary reputation. The 
original of this jeu d y esprit was never copied, and has been lost 
sight of for years. I had a special predilection for the little 
production. The pure, ardent attachment of the two young 
persons was rather heightened than diminished b} T the comico- 
tragic situation into which they were thus transposed. The 
greatest tenderness prevailed throughout ; and even my adver- 
sary was not treated ill-naturedly, but only humorously. I 
did not, however, let the book itself speak quite so politely : 
in imitation of an old rhyme it expressed itself thus : — 

" By that conceited man — by him 
I'm dangerous proclaimed; 
The wight uncouth, who cannot swim, 
By him the water's blamed. 
That Berlin pack, priest-ridden lot — 
Their ban I am not heeding; 
And he who understands me not 
Ought to improve in reading." 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 171 

Being prepared for all that might be alleged against 
Werther, I found those attacks, numerous as they were, by 
no means annoying ; but I had no anticipation of the intol- 
erable torment provided for me by sympathizers and well- 
wishers. These, instead of saying any thing civil to me 
about my book just as it was, wished to know, one and all, 
what was really true in it ; at which I grew very angry, and 
often expressed myself with great discourtesy. To answer 
this question, I should have been obliged to pull to pieces 
and destroy the form of a work on which I had so long 
pondered, with the view of giving a poetical unity to its 
many elements; and* in this operation, if the essential parts 
were not destroyed, they would, at least, have been scattered 
and dispersed. However, upon a closer consideration of 
the matter, I could not take the public inquisitiveness in ill 
part. Jerusalem's fate had excited great attention. An 
educated, amiable, blameless young man, the son of one 
of the first theologians and authors, healthy and opulent, 
had at once, without any known cause, destroyed himself. 
Every one asked how this was possible : and, when they 
heard of an unfortunate love-affair, the whole youth were 
excited ; and, as soon as it transpired that some little annoy- 
ances had occurred to him in the higher circles, the middle 
classes also became excited ; indeed, every one was anxious 
to learn further particulars. Now, there appeared in " Wer- 
ther" an exact delineation, as it was thought, of the life 
and character of that young man. The locality and person 
tallied ; and the narrative was so very natural, that they 
considered themselves fully informed and satisfied. But 
on the other hand, on closer examination, there was so much 
that did not fit, that there arose, for those who sought the 
truth, an unmanageable business, because a critical investi- 
gation must necessarily produce a hundred doubts. The 
real groundwork of the affair was, however, not to be fath- 
omed ; for all that I had interwoven of my own life and 
suffering could not be deciphered, because, as an unobserved 
young man, I had secretly, though not silently, pursued my 
course. 

While engaged in my work, I was fully aware how highly 
that artist was favored who had an opportunity of compos- 
ing a Venus from the study of a variety of beauties. Ac- 
cordingly I took leave to model my Charlotte according to 
the shape and qualities of several pretty girls, although the 
chief characteristics were taken from the one I loved best 



172 TRUTH AND FICTION 

The inquisitive public could therefore discover similarities 
in various women, and even to the ladies themselves it was 
not quite indifferent to be taken for the right one. But 
these several Charlottes caused me infinite trouble, because 
every one who only looked at me seemed determined to know 
where the proper one really resided. I endeavored to save 
myself , like Nathan 1 with the three rings, by an expedient, 
which, though it might suit higher beings, would not satisfy 
either the believing or the reading public. I hoped, after a 
time, to be freed from such tormenting inquiries ; but they 
pursued me through my whole life. I endeavored, on my 
travels, to escape from them, by assuming an incognito; 
but even this remedy was, to my disappointment, unavail- 
ing : and thus the author of the little work, had he even 
done any thing wTong and mischievous, was sufficiently, I 
may say disproportionately, punished by such unavoidable 
importunities. 

Subjected to this kind of infliction, I was taught but too 
unequivocally, that authors and their public are separated 
by an immense gulf, of which, happily, neither of them 
has any conception. The uselessness, therefore, of all 
prefaces I had long ago seen ; for the more pains a writer 
takes to render his views clear, the more occasion he gives 
for embarrassment. Besides, an author may preface as 
elaborately as he will, the public will always go on making 
precisely those demands which he has endeavored to avoid. 
With a kindred peculiarity of readers, which (particularly 
with those who print their judgments) seems remarkably 
comical, I was likewise soon acquainted : for they cherish 
the delusion that an author, in producing any thing, becomes 
their debtor ; and he always falls short of what they wished 
and expected of hirr, although, before they had seen our 
work, they had not the least notion that any thing of the 
kind existed, or was even possible. Independently of all 
this, it was now the greatest fortune, or misfortune, that 
every one wished to make the acquaintance of this strange 
young author, who had stepped forward so unexpectedly 
and so boldly. They desired to see him, to speak to him, 
and, even at a distance, to hear something from him : thus 
he had to encounter a very considerable crowd, sometimes 
pleasant, sometimes disagreeable, but always diverting him 
from his pursuits. For enough works already begun lay 

1 "Nathan the wise," in Lessing'e play, founded on Boccacio's tale of the rings. 
— Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. IIS 

before him, — nay, and would have given him abundance 
of work for some years if he could have kept to them 
with his old fervor ; but he was drawn forth from the quiet, 
the twilight, the obscurity, which alone can favor pure crea- 
tion, into the noise of daylight, where one is lost in others, 
where one is led astray, alike by sympathy and by coldness, 
by praise and by blame, because outward contact never 
accords with the epoch of our inner culture, and therefore, 
as it cannot further us, must necessarily injure us. 

Yet more than by all the diversions of the day, the author 
was kept from the elaboration and completion of greater 
works by the taste then prevalent in this society for drama- 
tizing every thing of importance which occurred in actual life. 
What that technical expression (for such it was in our in- 
ventive society) really meant, shall here be explained. Ex- 
cited by intellectual meetings on days of hilarity, we were 
accustomed, in short extemporary performances, to commu- 
nicate, in fragments, all the materials we had collected 
towards the formation of larger compositions. One single 
simple incident, a pleasantly naive or even silly word, a 
blunder, a paradox, a clever remark, personal singularities 
or habits, nay, a peculiar expression, and whatever else 
would occur in a gay and bustling life, took the form of a 
dialogue, a catechism, a passing scene, or a drama, — often 
in prose, but oftener in verse. 

By this practice, carried on with genial passion, the really 
poetic mode of thought was established. We allowed ob- 
jects, events, persons, to stand for themselves in all their 
bearings ; our only endeavor being to comprehend them 
clearly and exhibit them vividly. Every expression of ap- 
probation or disapprobation was to pass in living forms 
before the eyes of the spectator. These productions might 
be called animated epigrams, which, though without edges or 
points, were richly furnished with marked and striking fea- 
tures. The " Jahrmarktsfest'' (" Fair-festival") is an epi- 
gram of this kind, or rather a collection of such epigrams. 
All the characters there introduced are meant for actual living 
members of that society, or for persons at least connected and 
in some degree known to it ; but the meaning of the riddle 
remained concealed to the greater part : all laughed, and few 
knew that their own marked peculiarities served as the jest. 
The prologue to "Bahrdt's Newest Revelations" may be 
looked upon as a document of another kind : the smallest 
pieces are among the miscellaneous poems, a great many have 



1V4 TRUTH AND FICTION 

been ties troy ed or lost, and some that still exist do not admit 
of being published. Those which appeared in print only in- 
creased the excitement of the public, and curiosity about the 
author : those which were handed about in manuscript enter- 
tained the immediate circle, which was continually increasing. 
Dr. Bahrdt, then at Giessen, paid me a visit, apparently 
courteous and confiding : he joked about the prologue, and 
wished to be placed on a friendly footing. But we young 
people still continued to omit no opportunity at social festi- 
vals, of sporting, in a malicious vein, at the peculiarities which 
we had remarked in others, and successfully exhibited. 

Although it was by no means displeasing to the young 
author to be stared at as a literary meteor, he nevertheless 
tried, with glad modesty, to testify his esteem for the most 
deserving men of* his country, among w r hom, before all 
others, the admirable Justus Moser claims especial mention. 
The little essays on political subjects by this incomparable 
man had been printed some years before in the c ' Osnaburg 
Intelligenzblatter," and made known to me through Herder, 
who overlooked nothing of worth that appeared in his time, 
especially if in print. Moser' s daughter, Frau von Voigt, 
was occupied in collecting these scattered papers. We had 
scarcely patience to wait for their publication ; and I placed 
myself in communication with her, to assure her, with sin- 
cere interest, that the essays, which, both in matter and 
form, had been addressed only to a limited circle, would be 
useful and beneficial everywhere. She and her father re- 
ceived these assurances from a stranger, not altogether 
unknown, in the kindest manner ; since an anxiety which 
they had felt was thus preliminarily removed. 

What is in the highest degree remarkable and commend- 
able in these little essays, all of which, being composed in 
one spirit, form together a perfect whole, is the very intimate 
knowledge they display of the whole civil state of man. We 
see a system resting upon the past, and still in vigorous ex- 
istence. On the one hand, there is a firm adherence to tradi- 
tion ; on the other, movement and change which cannot be 
prevented. Here alarm is felt at a useful novelty; there 
pleasure in what is new, although it be useless, or even 
injurious. With what freedom from prejudice the author 
explains the relative position of different ranks, and the 
connection in which cities, towns, and villages mutually 
stand ! We learn their prerogatives, together with the 
legal grounds of them : we are told where the main capital 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 175 

of the state is invested, and what interest it yields. We 
see property and its advantages on the one hand ; on the 
other, taxes and disadvantages of various kinds ; and then 
the numerous branches of industry ; and in all this past and 
present times are contrasted. 

Osnaburg, as a member of the Hanseatic League, we are 
told, had in the earlier periods an extensive and active com- 
merce. According to the circumstances of those times, it 
had a remarkable and fine situation : it could receive the 
produce 'of the country, and was not too far removed from 
the sea to transport it in its own ships. But now, in later 
times, it lies deep in the interior, and is gradually removed 
and shut out from the sea-trade. How this has occurred, is 
explained in all its bearings. The conflict between England 
and the coasts, and of the havens with the interior, is men- 
tioned : here are set forth the great advantages of those who 
live on the seaside, and deliberate plans are proposed for 
enabling the inhabitants of the interior to obtain similar ad- 
vantages. We then learn a great deal about trades and 
handicrafts, and how these have been outstripped by manu- 
factures, and undermined by shop-keeping : decline is pointed 
out as the result of various causes, and this result, in its 
turn, as the cause of a further decline, in an endless circle, 
which it is difficult to unravel ; yet it is so clearly set forth 
by the vigilant citizen, that one fancies one can see the way 
to escape from it. The author throughout displays the 
clearest insight into the most minute circumstances. His 
proposals, his counsel — nothing is drawn from the air, and 
yet they are often impracticable, on which account he calls 
his collection 4 ' patriotic fancies ; ' ' although every thing in it 
is based on the actual and the possible. 

But as every thing in public life is influenced by domestic 
condition, this especially engages his attention. As objects, 
both of his serious and sportive reflections, we find the 
changes in manners and customs, dress, diet, domestic life, 
and education. It would be necessary to indicate every thing 
which exists in the civil and social world, to exhaust the list 
of subjects which he discusses. And his treatment of them 
is admirable. A thorough man of business discourses with 
the people in weekly papers, respecting whatever a wise and 
beneficent government undertakes or carries out, that he 
may bring it to their comprehension in its true light. This 
is by no means done in a learned manner, but in those varied 
forms which may be called poetic, and which, in the beet 



!76 TRUTH AND FICTION 

sense of the word, must certainly be considered rhetorical. 
He rises at all times above his subject, and understands how- 
to r that reason I was glad to leave Lavater alone with all 
those who wished to be edified through, and together with, 
him, a deprivation for which I was, as I subsequently found, 
fully compensated by the journey we made together to Ems. 
Beautiful summer weather attended us, and Lavater was gay 
and most amiable. For, though of a religious and moral turn, 
he was by no means narrow-minded, and was not unmoved 
when, by the events of life, those around him were excited to 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 191 

cheerfulness and gayety. He was sympathizing, spirited, 

witty, and liked the same qualities in others, provided that 
they were kept within the bounds which his delicate sense of 
propriety prescribed. If any one ventured farther, he used 
to clap him on the shoulder, and by a hearty ic Btsch guet ! " 
would call the rash man back to good manners. This journey 
afforded me instruction and inspiration of many kinds, which, 
however, contributed to a knowledge of his character rather 
than to the government and culture of my own. At Ems I 
saw him again at once surrounded by society of every sort ; 
and I went back to Frankfort, because my little affairs were 
in such a state that I could scarcely absent myself from them 
at all. 

But I was not destined to be restored so speedily to repose. 
Basedow now came in to attract me, and touch me on 
another side. A more decided contrast could not be found 
than that between these two men. A single glance at Base- 
dow showed the difference. Lavater's features lay open to 
the observer ; but those of Basedow were crowded together, 
and, as it were, drawn inward. Lavater's eye, beneath a very 
wide eyelid, was clear, and expressive of piety : Basedow's 
was deep in his head, small, black, sharp, gleaming from 
under bristly brows ; while, on the contrary, Lavater's frontal 
bone was edo-ed with two arches of the softest brown hair. 
Basedow's strong, rough voice, quick, sharp expressions, a 
kind of sarcastic laugh, a rapid change of subjects in con- 
versation, with other peculiarities, were all the opposite of 
the qualities and manners by which Lavater had spoiled us. 
Basedow was also much sought after in Frankfort, and his 
great talents were admired ; but he was not the man, either 
to edify souls or to lead them. His sole office was, to 
give a better cultivation to the wide field he had marked out 
for himself, so that Humanity might afterwards take up its 
dwelling in it with greater ease and accordance with nature ; 
but to this end he hastened even too directly. 

I could not altogether acquiesce in his plans, or even get a 
clear understanding of his views. I was, of course", pleased 
with his desire of making all instruction living and natural : 
his wish, too, that the ancient languages should be practised 
on present objects, appeared to me laudable ; and I gladly 
acknowledged all that in his project tended to the promotion 
of activity and a fresher view of the world. But I was dis- 
pleased that the illustrations of his elementary work were 
even more distracting than its subjects : whereas, in the 



192 TRUTH AND FICTION 

actual world, possible things alone stand together ; and for 
that reason, in spite of ail variety and apparent confusion, 
the world has still a regularity in all its parts. Basedow's 
elementary work, on the contrary, sunders it completely, 
inasmuch as things which in the world never are combined, 
are here put together on account of the association of ideas ; 
and consequently the book is without even those palpable 
methodical advantages which we must acknowledge in the 
similar work of Amos Comenius. 

But the conduct of Basedow was much more strange and 
difficult to comprehend than his doctrine. The purpose of 
his journey was, by personal influence, to interest the public 
in his philanthropic enterprise, and, indeed, to open, not only 
hearts, but purses. He had the power of speaking grandly 
and convincingly of his scheme, and every one willingly con- 
ceded what he asserted. But in a most inexplicable way he 
pained the feelings of the very men whose assistance he 
wished to gain ; nay, he outraged them unnecessarily, through 
his inability to keep back his opinions and fancies on reli- 
gious subjects. In this respect, too, Basedow appeared the 
very opposite of Lavater. While the latter received the 
Bible literally, and with its whole contents, as being word 
for word in force, and applicable, even at the present day, 
the former had the most unquiet itching to renovate every 
thing, and to remodel both the doctrines and the ceremonies 
of the church in conformity with some odd notions of his 
own. Most imprudently he showed no mercy to those con- 
ceptions which come not immediately from the Bible, but 
from its interpretation, — all those expressions, technical 
philosophical terms, or sensible figures, with which Councils 
and Fathers of the church had tried to explain the inex- 
pressible, or to confute heretics. In a harsh and unwar- 
rantable way, and before all alike, he declared himself the 
sworn enemy of the Trinity, and would never desist from 
arguing against this universally admitted mystery. I, too, 
had to suffer a good deal from this kind of entertainment in 
private conversation, and was compelled again and again to 
listen to his tirades about the " Hypostasis " and " Ousia," 
as well as the "Prosopon." To meet them all, I had re- 
course to the weapons of paradox, and, soaring even above 
the flight of his opinions, ventured to oppose his rash asser- 
tions with something rasher of my own. This gave a new 
excitement to my mind ; and as Basedow was much more 
extensively read, and had more skill in the fencing-tricks of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 193 

disputation than a follower of nature like myself, I had 
always to exert myself the more, the more important were 
the points which were discussed between us. 

Such a splendid opportunity to exercise, if not to enlighten, 
my mind, I could not allow to pass away in a hurry. I pre- 
vailed on my father and friends to manage my most pressing 
affairs, and now set off again from Frankfort in the company 
of Basedow. But what a difference did I feel when I recalled 
the gentle spirit which breathed from Lavater ! Pure him- 
self, he created around him a pure circle. At his side one 
became like a maiden, for fear of presenting before him any 
thing repulsive. Basedow, on the contrary, being altogether 
absorbed in himself, could not pay any attention to his 
external appearance. His ceaseless smoking of wretched 
tobacco was of itself extremely disagreeable, especially as 
his pipe was no sooner out, than he brought forth a dirtily 
prepared kind of tinder, which took fire quickly, but gave 
out a horrid stench, and every time poisoned the air in- 
sufferably with the first whiff. I called this preparation 
u The Basedovian Stench- tinder " ( stink- s chwamm) , and 
declared that it ought to be introduced into Natural History 
under this name. This greatly amused him ; and, to my dis- 
gust, he minutely explained the hated preparation, taking a 
malicious pleasure in my aversion from it. It was one of 
the deeply rooted, disagreeable peculiarities of this admirably 
gifted man, that he was fond of teasing, and would sting the 
most dispassionate persons. He could never see any one 
quiet, but would, in a hoarse voice, provoke him with mocking 
irony, or put him to confusion by an unexpected question, 
and laughed bitterly when he had gained his end ; yet he was 
pleased when the object of his jests was quick enough to 
collect himself, and gave him a retort. 

How much greater was now my longing for Lavater ! He, 
too, seemed to be rejoiced when he saw me again, and con- 
fided to me much that he had learned, especially in reference 
to the various characters of his fellow-guests, among whom 
he had already succeeded in making many friends and dis- 
ciples. For my part, I found here several old acquaintances ; 
and in those whom I had not seen for many years, I began 
to notice what in youth long remains concealed from us, 
namely, that men grow old and women change. The com- 
pany became more numerous every day. There was no end to 
the dancing ; and as, in the two principal bath-houses, people 
came into pretty close contact, the familiarity led to many a 



194 TRUTH AND FICTION 

practical joke. Once I disguised myself as a village clergy- 
man, while an intimate friend took the character of his wife : 
by our excessive and troublesome politeness, we were tolera- 
bly amusing to the elegant society, and so put every one 
into good humor. Of serenades at evening, midnight, and 
morning, there was no lack ; and we juniors enjoyed but little 
sleep. 

To make up for these dissipations, I always passed a part 
of the night with Basedow. He never went to bed, but 
dictated without cessation. Occasionally he cast himself on 
the couch, and slumbered ; while his amanuensis sat quietly, 
pen in hand, ready to continue his work when the half-awak- 
ened author should once as;am o;ive free course to his 
thoughts. All this took place in a close, confined chamber, 
filled with the fumes of tobacco and the odious tinder. As 
often as I was disengaged from a dance, I hastened up to 
Basedow, wdio was ready at once to speak and dispute on 
any question ; and when, after a time, I hurried again to the 
ballroom, before I had closed the door behind me he would 
resume the thread of his essay as composedly as if he had 
been engaged with nothing else. 

We also made together many excursions into the neighbor- 
hood, visiting the chateaux, especially those of noble ladies, 
who were everywhere more inclined than the men to receive 
any thing laying claim to intellect or mind. At Nassau, at 
the house of Frau von Stein, a most estimable lady, who 
enjoyed universal respect, we found a large company. Frau 
von Laroche was likewise present, and there was no lack of 
young ladies and children. Here Lavater was doomed to be 
put to many a physiognomical temptation, which consisted 
mainly in our seeking to palm upon him the accidents of cul- 
tivation as original forms ; but his eye was too sure to be 
deceived. I, too, was called on as much as ever to maintain 
the truth of the " Sorrows of Werther," and to name the 
residence of Charlotte, a desire which I declined to gratify, 
not in the politest manner. On the other hand, I collected 
the children around me in order to tell them very wonderful 
stories, all about well-known things, in which I had the 
great advantage, that no member of my circle of hearers 
could ask me with any importunity what part was truth and 
what fiction. 

Basedow affirmed that the only thing necessary was a bet- 
ter education of youth, and to promote this end he called 
upon the higher and wealthy classes for considerable contri* 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 195 

butions. But hardly had his reasoning and his impassioned 
eloquence excited, not to say, won to his purpose, the sym- 
pathy of his auditors, when the evil anti-trinitarian spirit 
came upon him ; so that, without the least sense of where he 
was, he broke forth into the strangest discourses, which in 
his own opinion were highly religious, but, according to the 
convictions of those around him, highly blasphemous. All 
sought a remedy for this evil : Lavater, by gentle serious- 
ness ; I, by jests, leading off from the subject ; and the Ladies 
by amusing walks ; but harmony could not be restored. A 
Christian conversation, such as had been expected from the 
presence of Lavater ; a discourse on education, such as had 
been anticipated from Basedow ; and a sentimental one, for 
which it was thought I should be ready, — all were at once 
disturbed and destroyed. On our return home, Lavater re- 
proached him ; but I punished him in a humorous way. The 
weather was warm, and the tobacco-smoke had perhaps con- 
tributed to the dryness of Basedow's palate : he was dying 
for a glass of beer ; and, seeing a tavern at a distance on the 
road, he eagerly ordered the coachman to stop there. But, 
just as he was driving up to the door, I called out to him 
loudly and imperiously, u Go on ! " Basedow, taken by sur- 
prise, could hardly get the contrary command out of his 
husky voice. I urged the coachman more vehemently, and 
he obeyed me. Basedow cursed me, and was ready to fall 
on me with his fists ; but I replied to him with the greatest 
composure, " Father, be quiet! You ought to thank me. 
Luckily you didn't see the beer-sign ! It was two triangles 
put together across each other. Now, you commonly get mad 
about one triangle ; and, if you had set eyes on two, we 
should have had to get you a strait-jacket." This joke threw 
him into a fit of immoderate laughter, in the intervals of 
which he scolded and cursed me ; while Lavater exercised his 
patience on both the young fool and the old one. 

When, in the middle of July, Lavater was preparing to 
depart, Basedow thought it advantageous to join him ; while 
I had become so accustomed to this rare society, that I could 
not bring myself to give it up. We had a delightful journey 
down the Lahn : it was refreshing alike to heart and senses. 
At the sight of an old ruined castle, I wrote the song " Hoch 
auf dem alten Thurme stent " (" High on the ancient Turret 
stands"), in Lips's album; and, as it was well received, I 
wrote, after my evil habit, all kinds of doggerel rhymes and 
comicalities on the succeeding pages, in order to destroy the 



196 TRUTH AND FICTION 

impression. I rejoiced to see the magnificent Rhine once 
more, and was delighted with the astonishment of those who 
had never before enjoyed this splendid spectacle. We landed 
at Coblentz : wherever we went, the crowd was very great ; 
and each of the three excited interest and curiosity. Base- 
dow and I seemed to strive which could behave most out- 
rageously. Lavater conducted himself rationally and with 
judgment, only he could not conceal his favorite opinions ; 
and thus with the best designs he appeared very odd to all 
men of mediocrity. 

I have preserved the memory of a strange dinner at a 
hotel in Coblentz, in some doggerel rhymes, which will, per- 
haps, stand with all their kindred in nry New Edition. I sat 
between Lavater and Basedow ; the former was instructing 
a country parson on the mysteries of the Revelation of St. 
John ; and the latter was in vain endeavoring to prove, to 
an obstinate dancing-master, that baptism was an obsolete 
usage, not calculated for our times. As we were going on to 
Cologne, I wrote in an album, — 

As though to Emmaus, on their ride, 

Storlike you might have seen them, 
A prophet sat on either side, 

The worldly child between them. 

Luckily this worldly child had also a side which was turned 
towards the heavenly, and which was now to be moved in a 
way wholly peculiar. While in Ems I had rejoiced to hear, 
that, in Cologne, we should find the brothers Jacobi, who with 
other eminent men had set out to meet and show attention to 
our two remarkable travellers. On my part, I hoped fpr 
forgiveness from them for sundry little improprieties which 
had originated in the great love of mischief that Herder's 
keen humor had excited in us. The letters and poems in 
which Gleim and George Jacobi publicly rejoiced in each 
other, had given us opportunity for all sorts of sport ; and we 
had not reflected that there is just as much self-conceit in 
giving pain to others when they are comfortable, as in show- 
ing an excess of kindness to one's self or to one's friends. 
By this means, a certain dissension had arisen between the 
Upper and Lower Rhine, of so slight importance, however, 
that mediation was easy. For this the ladies were particu- 
larly well adapted. Sophia Laroche had already given us 
the best idea, of the noble brothers. Mile. Fahlmer, who 
had come to Frankfort from Diisseldorf , and who was inti- 
mate with their circle, by the great tenderness of her sym- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 19Y 

pathies, and the uncommon cultivation of her mind, furnished 
an evidence of the worth of the society in which she had 
grown up. She gradually put us to shame by her patience 
with our harsh Upper-Saxon manner, and taught us forbear- 
ance by letting us feel that we ourselves stood in need of it. 
The true-heartedness of the younger sister of the Jacobis, 
the gayety of the wife of Fritz Jacobi, turned our minds and 
eyes more and more to these regions. The latter was quali- 
fied to captivate me entirely ; possessed of a correct feeling 
without a trace of sentimentality, and with a lively way of 
speaking, she was a fine Netherlands woman, who, without 
any expression of sensuality, by her robust nature called to 
mind the women of Rubens. Both these ladies, in longer 
and shorter visits at Frankfort, had formed the closest alli- 
ance with my sister, and had expanded and enlivened the 
severe, stiff, and somewhat loveless, nature of Cornelia. 
Thus Diisseldorf and Pempelfort had interested our minds 
and hearts, even in Frankfort. 

Accordingly our first meeting in Cologne was at once 
frank and confidential, for the good opinion of the ladies 
had not been without its influence at home. I was not now 
treated, as hitherto on the journey, as merely the misty 
tail of the two great comets : all around paid me particular 
attention, and showed me abundant kindness, which they 
also seemed inclined to receive from me in return. I was 
weaiy of my previous follies and impertinences, behind 
which, in truth, I only hid my impatience, to find during the 
journey so little care taken to satisfy my heart and soul. 
Hence, what was within me burst out like a torrent ; and this 
is perhaps the reason why I recollect so little of individual 
events. The thoughts we have had, the pictures we have 
seen, can be again called up before the mind and the im- 
agination : but the heart is not so complaisant ; it will not 
repeat its agreeable emotions. And least of all are we able 
to recall moments of enthusiasm : they come upon us unpre- 
pared, and we yield to them unconsciously. For this rea- 
son, others, who observe us at such moments, have a better 
and clearer insight into what passes within us than we 
ourselves. 

Religious conversations I had hitherto gently declined : to 
plain questions I had not unfrequently replied with harsh- 
ness, because they seemed to me too narrow in comparison 
with what I sought. When any one wished to force upon 
me his sentiments and opinions of my compositions, but 

Goethe— 7 Vol 2 



198 TRUTH AND FICTION 

especially when I was afflicted with the demands of common 
sense, and people told me decidedly what I ought to have 
done or left undone, I got out of all patience : and the 
conversation broke off, or crumbled to pieces ; so that no 
one went away with a particularly good opinion of me. It 
would have been much more natural to make myself gentle 
and friendly, but my feelings would not be schooled. They 
needed to be expanded by free good will, and to be moved 
to a surrender by sincere sympathy. One feeling which 
prevailed greatly with me, and could never find an expres- 
sion odd enough for itself, was a sense of the past and 
present together in one, — a phenomenon w T hich brought 
something spectral into the present. It is expressed in 
many of my smaller and larger w r orks, and alwaj^s has a 
beneficial influence in a poem, though, whenever it began 
to mix itself up with actual life, it must have appeared to 
every one strange, inexplicable, perhaps gloomy. 

Cologne w r as the place where antiquity had such an incal- 
culable effect upon me. The ruins of the cathedral (for 
an unfinished work is like one destined) called up the 
emotions to which I had been accustomed at Strasburg. 
Artistic considerations w r ere out of the question ; too much 
and too little were given me ; and there was no one who 
could help me out of the labyrinth of what had been per- 
formed and what proposed, of the fact and of the plan, of 
what had been built and what only designed, as our indus- 
trious, persevering friends nowada}^s are ready to do. In 
company with others I did indeed admire its wonderful 
chapels and columns ; but when alone I alwa}'s gloomily lost 
myself in this world-edifice, thus checked in its creation 
while far from complete. Here, too, was a great idea never 
realized ! It would seem, indeed, as if the architecture were 
there only to convince us, that by many men, in a series of 
years, nothing can be accomplished, and that in art and in 
deeds only that is achieved which, like Minerva, springs 
full-grown and armed from the head of its inventor. 

At these moments, which oppressed more than they 
cheered my heart, I little thought that the tenderest and 
fairest emotion was in store for me near at hand. I was 
persuaded to visit Jappach's house, and here all that I had 
been wont to form for myself in my mind came actually and 
sensibly before my eyes. This family had probably long 
ago become extinct ; but on the ground-floor, which opened 
upon a garden, we found every thing unchanged. A pave- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 199 

ment of brownish-red tiles, of a rhomboidal form, regularly 
laid ; carved chairs with embroidered seats and high backs ; 
flap-tables ; metal chandeliers curiously inlaid, on heavy 
feet ; an immense fireplace with its appropriate utensils ; 
every thing in harmony with those early times, and in the 
whole room nothing new, nothing belonging to the present 
but ourselves. But what more than all heightened and com- 
pleted the emotions thus strangely excited, was a large 
family picture over the fireplace. There sat the former 
wealthy inhabitant of this abode, surrounded by his wife 
and children, — there were they in all the freshness of life, 
and as if of yesterday, or rather of to-day ; and yet all of 
them had passed aw r ay. These young, round-cheeked chil- 
dren had grown old ; and, but for this clever likeness, not 
a trace of them would have remained. How I acted, how 
I demeaned myself, when overcome by these impressions, I 
cannot say. The lowest depths of my human affections 
and poetic sensibilities were laid bare in the boundless stir- 
ring of my heart : all that was good and loving in my soul 
seemed to open and break forth. In that moment, without 
further probation or debate, I gained for life the affection 
and confidence of those eminent men. 

As a result of this union of soul and intellect, in which all 
that was living in each came forth upon his lips, I offered 
to recite my newest and most favorite ballads. u Der Konig 
von Thule " (" The King of Thule ") , and " Es war ein Buhle 
f rech genug " ( u There was a barefaced lover who " x ) , had a 
good effect ; and I brought them forth with more feeling, 
as my poems were still bound to my heart, and as they sel- 
dom passed my lips. For, in the presence of persons who 
I feared could not sympathize with my tender sensibility, I 
felt restrained ; and frequently, in the midst of a recitation, 
I have become confused, and could not get right again. 
How often, for that reason, have I been accused of wilful- 
ness, and of a strange, whimsical disposition ! 

Although poetic composition just then mainly occupied 
me, and exactly suited my temperament, I was still no 
stranger to reflection on all kinds of subjects ; and Jacobi's 
tendency to the unfathomable, which was so original, and 
so much in accordance with his nature, was most welcome 
and agreeable to me. Here no controversy arose, — neither 

1 The title of the poem is " Der untreue Knabe " (" The Faithless Boy ") ; and in 
the first line of it, as published in Gothe's collected works, " Knabe" will be found 
instead of " Buhle." — Trans. 



200 TRUTH AND FICTION 

a Christian one, as with Lavater, nor a didactic one, as with 
Basedow. The thoughts which Jacobi imparted to me flowed 
immediately from his heart. How profoundly was I moved 
when, in unlimited confidence, he revealed to me even the 
most hidden longings of his soul ! From so amazing a com- 
bination of mental wants, passion, and ideas, I could only 
gather presentiments of what might, perhaps, afterwards 
grow more clear to me. Happily, I had already prepared, 
if not fully cultivated, myself in this respect, having in some 
degree appropriated the thoughts and mind of an extraor- 
dinary man, though my study of him had been incom- 
plete and hasty ; but I was already conscious of important 
influences derived from this source. This mind, which had 
worked upon me thus decisively, and which was destined to 
affect so deeply my whole mode of thinking, was Spinoza. 
After looking through the world in vain, to find a means of 
development for my strange nature, I at last fell upon the 
"Ethics" of this philosopher. Of what I read out of the 
work, and of what I read into it, I can give no account. But 
I certainly found in it a sedative for my passions, and that a 
free, wide view over the sensible and moral world seemed 
to open before me. But what especially riveted me to him, 
was the utter disinterestedness which shone forth in his every 
sentence. That wonderful sentiment, "He who truly loves 
God must not desire God to love him in return," together 
with all the preliminary propositions on which it rests, and 
all the consequences that follow from it, filled my whole 
mind. To be disinterested in every thing, but most of all in 
love and friendship, was my highest desire, my maxim, my 
practice ; so that that subsequent hasty saying of mine, " If 
I love thee, what is that to thee? " was spoken right out of 
my heart. Moreover, it must not be forgotten here that the 
closest unions are those of opposites. The all-composing 
calmness of Spinoza was in striking contrast with my all- 
disturbing activity ; his mathematical method was the direct 
opposite of my poetic humor and my way of writing ; and 
that very precision, which was thought ill-adapted to moral 
subjects, made me his enthusiastic disciple, his most decided 
worshipper. Mind and heart, understanding and sense, 
sought each other with an eager affinity, binding together 
the most different natures. 

At this time, however, all within was fermenting and seeth- 
ing in the first action and re-action. Fritz Jacobi, the first 
whom I suffered to look into the chaos, and whose nature 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 201 

was also toiling in its own extreme depths, heartily received 
my confidence, responded to it, and endeavored to lead me 
to his own opinions. He, too, felt an unspeakable mental 
want : he, too, did not wish to have it appeased by outward 
aid, but aimed at development and illumination from within. 
I could not comprehend what he communicated to me of the 
state of his mind, so much the less, indeed, because I could 
form no idea as to my own. Still, as he was far in ad- 
vance of me in philosophical thought, and even in the study 
of Spinoza, he endeavored to guide and enlighten my obscure 
efforts. Such a purely intellectual relationship was new 
to me, and excited a passionate longing for further com- 
munion. At night, after we had parted, and retired to our 
chambers, I often sought him again. With the moonlight 
trembling over the broad Rhine, we stood at the window, 
and revelled in that full interchange of ideas, which, in such 
splendid moments of confidence, swell forth so abundantly, 

Still, of the unspeakable joy of those moments, I can now 
give no account. Much more distinct to my mind is an ex- 
cursion to the hunting-seat of Bensberg, which, lying on the 
right shore of the Rhine, commanded the most splendid pros- 
pect. What delighted me beyond measure was the decora- 
tions of the walls by Weenix. They represented a large, 
open hall, surrounded by columns ; at the foot of these, as 
if forming the plinth, lay all the animals that the chase can 
furnish, skilfully arranged ; and over these again the eye 
ranged over a wide landscape. The wonderful artist had 
expended his whole skill in giving life to these lifeless 
creatures. In the delineation of their widely varying coats, 
the bristles, hair, or feathers, with the antlers and claws, he 
had equalled nature ; while, in the effect produced, he had 
excelled her. When we had admired these works of art 
sufficiently as a whole, we were led to reflect on the han- 
dling by which such pictures, combining so much spirit and 
mechanical skill, were produced. We could not understand 
how they could be created by the hands of man, or by any 
of his instruments. The pencil was not sufficient : peculiar 
preparations must be supposed to make such variety possi- 
ble. AYhether we came close to them, or withdrew to a 
distance, our astonishment was equal : the cause was as 
wonderful as the effect. 

Our further journey up the Rhine was cheerful and happy. 
The widening of the river invites the mind to expand itself 
likewise, and to look into the distance, We arrived at 



202 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Dusseldorf, and thence came to Pempelfort, a most delight- 
ful and beautiful resting-place, where a spacious mansion, 
opening upon extensive and well-kept gardens, collected 
together a thoughtful and refined circle. The members of 
the family were numerous ; and strangers, who found abun- 
dant enjoyment in so rich and. agreeable a neighborhood, 
were never wanting. 

In the Dusseldorf gallery, my predilection for the Flemish 
school found ample nourishment. There were whole halls 
tilled with these vigorous, sturdy pictures, brilliant with a 
fulness of nature ; and, if my judgment was not enlarged, 
my store of knowledge was enriched, and my love for art 
confirmed. 

The beautiful composure, contentment, and firmness, which 
marked the leading character of this family circle, quickly 
manifested themselves to the observant eye of the thought- 
ful guest, who could not fail to perceive that a wide sphere of 
influences had here its centre. The activity and opulence 
of the neighboring cities and villages contributed not a little 
to enhance this feeling of inward satisfaction. We visited 
Elberfeld, and were delighted with the busy aspect of so 
many flourishing manufactories. Here we fell in again with 
our friend Jung, commonly known as Stilling, who had gone 
even to Coble ntz to meet us, and who always had his faith 
in God and his truth towards men as his most precious at- 
tendants. Here we saw him in his own circle, and saw with 
pleasure the confidence reposed in him by his fellow-citi- 
zens, who, though occupied with earthly gain, did not leave 
the heavenly treasures out of view. The sight of this indus- 
trious region was satisfactory, because its prosperity was the 
result of order and neatness. In the contemplation of these 
things we passed happy days. 

When I returned to my friend Jacobi, I enjoyed the rap- 
turous feeling springing from a union of the innermost soul. 
We were both inspired by the liveliest hope of an influence 
in common ; and I urgently pressed him to make an exhibi- 
tion, in some striking form or other, of all that was acting 
and moving within him. This was the means by which I 
had escaped from many perplexities, and I hoped that it 
would relieve him also. He did not object, but undertook 
the task with zeal ; and how much that is good and beautiful 
and consolatory has he accomplished ! And so, at last, we 
parted with the happy feeling of eternal union, and wholly 
without a presentiment that our labors would assume the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 203 

opposite directions, which, in the course of life, they so 
markedly took. 

Whatever else occurred to me on the return down the Rhine 
has altogether vanished from my memory, partly because the 
second impressions of natural objects are wont, in my mind, 
to be mingled with the first ; and partly because, with my 
thoughts turned inwardly, I was endeavoring to arrange the 
varied experience I on myself had gained, and to work up 
what had affected me. Of one important result, as it im- 
pelled me to creative efforts which kept me occupied for a 
long time, I will now speak. 

With my lawless disposition, with a life and action so aim- 
less and purposeless, the observation could not long escape 
me, that Lavater and Basedow employed intellectual and even 
spiritual means for earthly ends. It soon struck me, who 
spent my talents and my days on no object whatever, that 
these two men, while endeavoring to preach their doctrines, 
to teach and to convince, had each, in his own way, certain 
views in the background, the advancement of which was to 
them of great consequence. Lavater went to work gently 
and prudently, Basedow vehemently, rudely, and even awk- 
wardly ; but both were so convinced of the excellence of their 
favorite schemes and undertakings, and their mode of prose- 
cuting them, that so far all were compelled to look upon them 
as men of sincerity, and to love and to honor them as such. 
In praise of Lavater especially, it could be said that he 
actually had higher objects ; and, if he acted according to the 
wisdom of this world, it was in the belief that the end would 
hallow the means. As I observed them both, nay, indeed 
frankly told them my opinions and heard theirs in return, the 
thought arose in me, that every highly gifted man is called 
upon to diffuse whatever there is of divine within him. In 
attempting this, however, he comes in contact with the rough 
world ; and, in order to act upon it, he must put himself on 
the same level. Thus, in a great measure, he compromises 
his high advantages, and finally forfeits them altogether. 
The heavenly, the eternal, is buried in a body of earthly 
designs, and hurried with it to the fate of the transient. 
From this point of view I now regarded the career of these 
two men, and they seemed to me worthy, both of honor and 
of compassion ; for I thought I could foresee that each would 
be compelled to sacrifice the higher to the lower. As I 
pursued all reflections of this kind to their farthest limits, 
and looked beyond the extent of my narrow experience for 



204 TRUTH AND FICTION 

similar cases in history, the plan occurred to me of taking 
the life of Mahomet, whom I had never been able to think 
au impostor, for a dramatic exhibition of those courses which 
in actual life, I was strongly convinced, invariably lead to 
ruin much more than to good. I had shortly before read 
with great interest, and studied, the life of the Eastern 
Prophet, and was therefore tolerably prepared when the 
thought occurred to me. The sketch approached, on the 
whole, the regular form to which I was again inclining ; al- 
though I still used in moderation the liberty gained for the 
stage, and arranged time and place according to nry own 
pleasure. The piece began with Mahomet alone under the 
open sky, singing a hymn. In it he adores first of all the 
innumerable stars as so many gods ; but as the friendly star, 
Gad (our Jupiter), rises, he offers to him, as the king of the 
stars, exclusive adoration. Not long after, the moon ascends 
the horizon, and wins the eye and heart of the worshipper, 
who, presently refreshed and strengthened by the dawning 
sun, is called upon for new praises. But these changing 
phenomena, however delightful, are still unsatisfactory ; and 
the mind feels that it must rise yet above itself. It mounts, 
therefore, to God, the Only, Eternal, Infinite, to whom all 
these splendid yet limited creatures owe their existence. I 
composed this hymn with great delight : it is now lost, but 
might easily be restored for the purpose of a cantata, and 
would commend itself to the musical composer by the variety 
of its expression. It would, however, be necessary to 
imagine it sung, according to the original plan, by the con- 
ductor of a caravan with his family and tribe ; and thus the 
alternation of the voices, and the strength of the chorus, 
would be provided for. 

After Mahomet has thus converted himself, he imparts 
these feelings and sentiments to his friends. His wife and 
Ali become his disciples without reserve. In the second act 
he zealously attempts, supported by the still more ardent Ali, 
to propagate this faith in the tribe. Assent and opposition 
follow the variety of character. The contest begins, the 
strife becomes violent, and Mahomet is compelled to flee. 
In the third act he defeats his enemies, and, making his 
religion the public one, purifies the Kaaba from idols ; but, as 
all this cannot be done by power, he is obliged to resort to 
cunning. What in his character is earthly increases and 
extends itself : the divine retires and is obscured. In the 
fourth act Mahomet pursues his conquests, his doctrine be- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 205 

comes a pretence rather than an end : all conceivable means 
must be employed, and barbarities become abundant. A 
woman, whose husband has been put to death by Mahomet's 
order, poisons him. In the fifth act he feels that he is 
poisoned. His great calmness, the return to himself and to 
a higher sense, make him worthy of admiration. He purifies 
his doctrine, establishes his kingdom, and dies. 

Such was the sketch of a work which long occupied my 
mind, for usually I was obliged to have the materials in 
my head before I commenced the execution. I meant to 
represent the power which genius exercises over men by 
character and intellect, and what are its gains and losses in 
the process. Several of the songs, to be introduced in the 
drama, were composed beforehand : all that remains of them, 
however, is what stands among my poems under the title 
" Mahomet's Gesang " ( u Mahomet's Song "). According 
to the plan, this was to be sung by Ali in honor of his 
master, at the highest point of his success, just before the 
changed aspect of affairs resulting from the poison. I rec- 
ollect also the outlines of several scenes, which here to un- 
fold would lead me too far. 



FIFTEENTH BOOK. 



From these manifold diversions, which, however, generally 
gave occasion for serious, and even religious, reflections, I 
always returned to my noble friend, Fraulein von Klettenberg, 
whose presence calmed, at least for a moment, my stormy 
and undirected impulses and passions, and to whom, next to 
my sister, I liked best to communicate designs like that I 
have just spoken of. I might, indeed, have perceived that 
her health was constantly failing : but I concealed it from 
myself ; and this I was the better able to do as her cheerful- 
ness increased with her illness. She used to sit, neatly 
dressed, in her chair at the window, and kindly listened to 
the narratives of my little expeditions as well as to what I 
read aloud to her. Often, too, I made sketches, in order to 
make her understand the better the description of the places 
I had seen. One evening I had been recalling to my mind 
many different images, when, in the light of the setting 



206 TRUTH AND FICTION 

sun, she and all around her appeared before me as if trans- 
figured ; and I could not refrain from making a drawing of 
her, and of the surrounding objects in the chamber, as well 
as my poor skill permitted. In the hands of a skilful artist 
like Kersting it would have made a beautiful picture. I sent 
it to a fair friend at a distance, and added a song as com- 
mentary and supplement : — 

In this magic glass reflected, 

See a vision, mild and blessed : 
By the wing of God protected, 

Is our suffering friend at rest. 

Mark how her endeavors bore her 
From life's waves to realms above: 

See thine image stand before her, 
And the God who died from love. 

Feel what I, amid the floating 

Of that heavenly ether, knew, 
When, the first impression noting, 

Hastily this sketch I drew. 

Though in these stanzas, as had often happened before, I 
expressed myself as* " a stranger and foreigner," in short, as 
a heathen, she did not take offence at it. On the contrary, 
she assured me, that in so doing I pleased her much more than 
when I attempted to employ the Christian terminology, which 
somehow I could never apply correctly. Indeed, it had be- 
come a standing custom with me, whenever I read to her 
missionary intelligence, which she was always fond of listen- 
ing to, to take the part of the pagans against the mission- 
aries, and to praise their old condition as preferable to their 
new one. Still, she was ever gentle and friendly, and seemed 
not to have the least fear about me or my salvation. 

My gradual alienation from her creed arose from the fact 
that I had laid hold of it at first with too great zeal, with 
passionate love. Ever since I became more intimately ac- 
quainted with the Moravians, my inclination to this society, 
which had united under the victorious banners of Christ, had 
constantly increased. It is exactly in the moment of its ear- 
liest formation that a positive religion possesses its greatest 
attraction. On that account it is delightful to go back to the 
time of the apostles, w r here all stands forth as fresh and im- 
mediately spiritual. And thus it was that the Moravian doc- 
trine acquired something of a magical charm by appearing to 
continue or rather to perpetuate the condition of those first 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 207 

times. It connected its origin with them ; when it seemed 
to perish, it still wound its way through the world, although 
by unnoticed tendrils ; at last one little germ took root beneath 
the protection of a pious and eminent man, and so from an 
unnoticed and apparently accidental beginning expanded once 
more over the wide world. In this society the most impor- 
tant point was, the inseparable combination of the religious 
and civil constitution by which the teacher was at the same 
time the ruler, and the father the judge. What was still more 
distinctive of their fraternity, was that the religious head, 
to whom unlimited faith was yielded in spiritual things, was 
also intrusted with the guidance of temporal affairs ; and his 
counsels, whether for the government of the whole body, or 
for the guidance of individuals, if confirmed by the issue of 
the lot, were implicitly followed. Its peace and harmony, to 
which at least outward appearances testified, was most allur- 
ing ; while, on the other hand, the missionary vocation seemed 
to call forth and to give employment to all man's active 
powers. The excellent persons whose acquaintance I made 
at Marienborn, which I had visited in the company of Coun- 
cillor Moritz, the agent of Count von Isenburg, had gained 
my unqualified esteem ; and it only depended on themselves 
to make me their own. I studied their history and their doc- 
trine, and the origin and growth of their society, so as to be 
able to give an account of it and to talk about it to all who 
might feel interested in it. Nevertheless, the conviction was 
soon forced upon me, that with the brethren I did not pass 
for a Christian any more than I did with Fraulein von Klet- 
tenberg. At first this disturbed me, but afterwards my incli- 
nation to them became somewhat cooler. However, I could 
not for a long time discover the precise ground of difference, 
although it was obvious enough, until at last it was forced 
upon me more by accident than by reflection. What sepa- 
rated me from this brotherhood, as well as from other good 
Christian souls, was the very point on which the Church has 
more than once fallen into dissension. On the one hand, it 
was maintained, that, by the Fall, human nature had been so 
corrupted to its innermost core, that not the least good could 
be found in it, and that therefore man must renounce all 
trust in his own powers, and look to grace and its operations 
for every thing. The other party, while it admitted the 
hereditary imperfections of man, nevertheless, ascribed to 
nature a certain germ of good within, which, animated by 
divine grice, was capable of growing up to a joyous tree of 



208 TRUTH AND FICTION 

spiritual happiness. By this latter conviction I was uncon- 
sciously penetrated to my inmost soul, even while with tongue 
and pen I maintained the opposite side. But I had hitherto 
gone on with such ill-defined ideas, that I had never once 
clearly stated the dilemma to myself. From this dream I 
was unexpectedly roused one day, when in a religious con- 
versation, having distinctly advanced opinions to my mind 
most innocent, I had in return to undergo a severe lecture. 
The very thought of such a thing, it was maintained, was 
genuine Pelagianism, a pernicious doctrine which was again 
appearing, to the great injury of modern times. I was 
astonished and even terrified. I went back to Church his- 
toiy, studied the doctrine and fate of Pelagius more closely, 
and now saw clearly how these two irreconcilable opinions 
had fluctuated in favor through whole centuries, and had 
been embraced and acknowledged by different men, according 
as they were of a more active or of a more passive nature. 

The course of past years had constantly led me more and 
more to the exercise of my own powers. A restless activity 
was at work within me, with the best desire for moral devel- 
opment. The world without demanded that this activity 
should be regulated and employed for the advantage of others ; 
and this great demand I felt called upon, in my own case, to 
meet. On all sides I had been directed to nature, and she 
had appeared to me in her whole magnificence : I had been 
acquainted with many good and true men, who were toiling to 
do their duty, and for the sake of duty ; to renounce them, 
nay, to renounce myself, seemed impossible. The gulf which 
separated me from the doctrine of man's total depravity now 
became plain to me. Nothing, therefore, remained to me but 
to part from this society ; and as my love of the Holy Scrip- 
tures, as well as of the founder of Christianity and its early 
professors,, could not be taken from me, I formed a Chris- 
tianity for my private use, and sought to establish and build 
it up by an attentive study of history, and a careful observa- 
tion of those who were favorable to my opinion. 

As every thing which I once warmly embraced immediately 
put on a poetic form, I now took up the strange. idea of treat- 
ing epically the history of the Wandering Jew, which popular 
books had long since impressed upon my mind. My design 
was to bring out, in the course of the narrative, such promi- 
nent points of the- history of religion and the Church as I 
should find convenient. I will now explain the way in which 
I treated this fable, and what meaning I gave to it. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 209 

In Jerusalem, according to the legend, there was a shoe- 
maker of the name of Ahasuerus. For this character my 
Dresden shoemaker was to supply the main features. I had 
furnished him with the spirit and humor of a craftsman of the 
school of Hans Sachs, and ennobled him by an inclination 
to Christ. Accordingly as, in his open workshop, he liked to 
talk with the passers-by, jested with them, and, after the 
Socratic fashion, touched up every one in his own way, the 
neighbors, and others of the people, took pleasure in lingering 
at his booth : even Pharisees and Sadducees spoke to him, 
and the Saviour himself and his disciples would often stop at 
his door. The shoemaker, whose thoughts were directed solely 
towards the world, I painted as feeling, nevertheless, a spe- 
cial affection for our Lord, which, for the most part, evinced 
itself by a desire to bring this lofty being, whose mind he did 
not comprehend, over to his own way of thinking and acting. 
Accordingly, in a modest manner, he recommends Christ to 
abandon his contemplative life, and to leave off going about 
the country with such idlers, and drawing the people away 
from their labor into the wilderness. A multitude, he said, 
was always ready for excitement ; and nothing good could 
come of it. 

On the other hand, the Lord endeavored, by parables, to 
instruct him in his higher views and aims ; but these were all 
thrown away on his mere matter-of-fact intellect. Thus, as 
Christ becomes more and more an important character, and 
finally a public person, the friendly workman pronounces his 
opinion still more sharply and vehemently, maintaining that 
nothing but disorder and tumult could follow from such pro- 
ceedings, and that Christ would be at last compelled to put 
himself at the head of a party, though that could not possibly 
be his design. Finally, when things had taken the course 
history narrates, and Christ had been seized and condemned, 
Ahasuerus gives full vent to his indignation, when Judas, 
who undesignedly had betrayed his Lord, in his despair enters 
the workshop, and with lamentations relates how his plans 
had been crossed. He had been, he said, as well as the 
shrewdest of the other disciples, firmly convinced that Christ 
would declare himself regent and head of the nation. His 
purpose was only, by this violence, to compel the Lord, whose 
hesitation had hitherto been invincible, to hasten the declara- 
tion. Accordingly he had incited the priesthood to an act 
which previously they had not had courage to do. The disci- 
ples, on their side, were not without arms ; and probably all 



210 TRUTH AND FICTION 

would have turned out well, if the Lord had not given himself 
up, and left them in the most forlorn state. Ahasuerus, w T hom 
this narrative in no ways tends to propitiate, only exasperates 
the agony of the poor ex-apostle, who rushes out, and goes 
and hangs himself. 

As Jesus is led past the workshop of the shoemaker, on his 
way to execution, the well-known scene of the legend occurs. 
The sufferer faints under the burden of the cross, and Simon 
of Cyrene is compelled to carry it. Upon this Ahasuerus 
comes forward, and sustains the part of those harsh common- 
sense people, who, when they see a man involved in misfor- 
tune through his own fault, feel no pity, but, struck by an 
untimely sense of justice, make the matter worse by their 
reproaches. As he comes out, he repeats all his former warn- 
ings, changing them into vehement accusations, w r hich his 
attachment to the sufferer seems to justify. The Saviour does 
not answer ; but at the instant the loving Veronica covers his 
face with the napkin, on which, as she removes it and raises 
it aloft, Ahasuerus sees depicted the features of the Lord, not 
indeed as those of the sufferer of the moment, but as of one 
transfigured and radiant with celestial life. Amazed by this 
phenomenon, he turns away his eyes, and hears the words, 
" Over the earth shalt thou wander till thou shalt once more 
see me in this form." Overwhelmed at the sentence, it is not 
till after some time that the artisan comes to himself : he then 
finds that every one has gone to the place of execution, and 
that the streets of Jerusalem are empty. Disquiet and curi- 
osity drive him forth, and he begins his wandering. 

I shall, perhaps, speak elsewhere of all this, and of the 
incident by which the poem was ended, indeed, but not fin- 
ished. The beginning, some detached passages, and the 
conclusion, were written. But I never completed the work. 
I lacked time for the studies necessary to give it the finish 
and bearing that I wished. The few sheets I did write were 
the more willingly left to repose in obscurity, as a new and 
necessary epoch was now formed in my mental character by 
the publication of ' ' Werther. ' ' 

The common fate of man, which all of us have to bear, 
must fall most heavily on those whose intellectual powers 
expand very early. For a time we may grow up under the 
protection of parents and relatives ; we may lean for a while 
upon our brothers and sisters and friends, be supported by 
acquaintances, and made happy by those we love ; but, in the 
end, man is always driven back upon himself : and it seems 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 211 

as if the Divinity had taken a position towards men so as 
not always to respond to their reverence, trust, and love, at 
least, not in the precise moment of need. Early enough, 
and by many a hard lesson, had I learned, that, at the most 
urgent crises, the call to us is, ''Physician, heal thyself;" 
and how frequently had I been compelled to sigh out in pain, 
" I tread the wine-press alone ! " So now, while I was look- 
ing about for the means of establishing my independence, I 
felt that the surest basis on w r hich to build was my own crea- 
tive talents. For many years I had never known it to fail 
me for a moment. What, waking, I had seen by day, often 
shaped itself into regular dreams at night ; and, when I opened 
my eyes, there appeared to me either a wonderful new whole, 
or a part of one already commenced. Usually, my time for 
writing was the early morning : but in the evening too, or 
even late at night, when wine and social intercourse had 
raised my spirits, I was ready for any 'topic that might be 
suggested ; only let a subject of some character be offered, 
and I was at once prepared and ready. While, then, I re- 
flected upon this natural gift, and found that it belonged to 
me as my own, and could neither be favored nor hindered by 
any external matters, I easily, in thought, built my whole 
existence upon it. This conception soon assumed a distinct 
form : the old mythological image of Prometheus occurred 
to me, who, separated from the gods, peopled a world from 
his own workshop. I clearly felt that a creation of impor- 
tance could be produced only when its author isolated him- 
self. My productions, which had met with so much ap- 
plause, were children of solitude : and, since I had stood in a 
wider relation to the world, I had not been wanting in the 
power or the pleasure of invention ; but the execution halted, 
because I had, neither in prose nor in verse, a style properly 
my own, and consequently, with every new work, had always 
to begin at the beginning and try experiments. As in this 
I had to decline and even to exclude the aid of men ; so, 
after the fashion of Prometheus, I separated myself from 
the gods also, and the more naturally, as, with my character, 
and mode of thinking, one tendency always swallowed up 
and repelled all others. 

The fable of Prometheus became living in me. The old 
Titan web I cut up according to my own measurements, and, 
without further reflection, began to write a piece in which 
was painted the difficulty Prometheus w r as placed in, with 
respect to Jupiter and the later gods, in consequence of his 



212 TRUTH AND FICTION 

making men with his own hand, giving them life by the aid 
of Minerva, and founding a third dynasty. And, in fact, 
the reigning gods had good cause to feel aggrieved ; since 
they might now appear in the light of wrongful intruders 
between the Titans and men. To this singular composition 
belongs, as a monologue, that poem, which has become re- 
markable in German literature, by having called forth a 
declaration from Lessing against Jacobi on certain weighty 
matters of thought and feeling. It thus served as the match 
to an explosion which revealed and brought into discussion 
the most secret relations of men of worth, — relations of 
which they, perhaps, were not themselves conscious, and 
which were slumbering in a society otherwise most enlight- 
ened. The schism was so violent, that, with the concur- 
rence of further incidents, it caused us the loss of one of our 
most valuable men, namely, Mendelssohn. 

Although philosophical and even religious considerations 
may be, and before now have been, attached to this subject, 
still it belongs peculiarly to poetry. The Titans are the foil 
of polytheism, as the Devil may be considered the foil of 
monotheism ; though, like the only God to whom he stands 
in contrast, he is not a poetic figure. The Satan of Milton, 
though boldly enough drawn, still remains in the disadvan- 
tageous light of a subordinate existence, attempting to de- 
stroy the splendid creation of a higher being : Prometheus, 
on the contrary, has this advantage, that, even in spite of 
superior beings, he is able to act and to create. It is also a 
beautiful thought, and well suited to poetry, to represent 
men as created, not by the Supreme Ruler of the world, but 
by an intermediate agent, who, however, as a descendant of 
the most ancient dynasty, is of worth and importance enough 
for such an office. Thus, and, indeed, under every aspect, 
the Grecian mythology is an inexhaustible mine of divine 
and human symbols. 

Nevertheless, the Titanic, gigantic, heaven-storming char- 
acter afforded no suitable material for my poetic art. It bet- 
ter suited me to represent that peaceful, plastic, and always 
patient, opposition, which, recognizing the superior power, 
still presumes to claim equality. And yet the bolder mem- 
bers of the race, Tantalus, Ixion, Sisyphus, were also my 
saints. Admitted to the society of the gods, they would not 
deport themselves submissively enough, but, by their haughty 
bearing as guests, provoked the anger of their host and 
patron, and drew upon themselves a sorrowful banishment. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 213 

I pitied them ; their condition had already been set forth by 
the ancients as truly tragic ; and, when I introduced them in 
the background of my u Iphigenia," I was indebted to them 
for a part of the effect which that piece had the good for- 
tune to produce. 

At this period I usually combined the art of design with 
poetical composition. I drew the portraits of my friends 
in profile on gray paper, in white and black chalk. When- 
ever I dictated or listened to reading, I sketched the posi- 
tions of the writer and reader, with the surrounding objects : 
the resemblance could not be denied, and the drawings were 
well received. Dilettanti always have this advantage, be- 
cause they give their labor for nothing. But, feeling the 
insufficiency of this copying, I betook myself once more to 
language and rhythm, which were once more at my command. 
How briskly, how joyously and eagerly, I went to work with 
them, will appear from the many poems which, enthusiasti- 
cally proclaiming the art of nature, and the nature of art, 
infused, at the moment of their production, new spirit into 
me as well as into my friends. 

I was at this epoch, and in the midst of these occupations, 
one evening, sitting, with a struggling light in my chamber, 
to which, at least, the air of an artist's studio was thus 
imparted, while the walls, stuck over and covered with half- 
finished works, gave the impression of great industry, when 
there entered a well-formed, slender man, whom at first, 
in the twilight, I took for Fritz Jacobi, but soon, discovering 
my mistake, greeted as a stranger. In his free and agree- 
able bearing a certain military air was perceptible. He an- 
nounced himself by the name of Von Knebel ; and from a 
brief introduction I gathered that he was in the Prussian 
service, and that, during a long residence at Berlin and 
Potsdam, he had actively cultivated an acquaintance with 
the literary men of those places, and with German litera- 
ture in general. He had attached himself particularly to 
Ramler, and had adopted his mode of reciting poems. He 
was also familiar with all that Gbtz had written, who at 
that time had not as yet made a name among the Germans. 
Through his exertions the " Madcheninsel " (" Isle of Maid- 
ens") of this poet had been printed at Potsdam, and had 
fallen into the hands of the king, who was said to have ex- 
pressed a favorable opinion of it. 

We had scarcely talked over these subjects of general in- 
terest in German literature, before I learned, much to my 



214 TRUTH AND FICTION 

satisfaction, that he was at present stationed in Weimar, 
and was appointed the companion of Prince Constantin. Of 
matters there I had already heard much that was favorable ; 
for several strangers, who had come from Weimar, assured 
us that the Duchess Amalia had gathered round her the best 
men to assist in the education of her sons ; that the Academy 
of Jena, through its admirable teachers, had also contributed 
its part to this excellent purpose ; and that the arts were not 
only protected by this princess, but were practised by her 
with great diligence and zeal. We also heard that Wieland 
was in especial favor. The " Deutsche Merkur," too, which 
united the labors of so many scholars in other places, con- 
tributed not a little to the fame of the city in which it was 
published. There also was one of the best theatres in Ger- 
many, which was made famous by its actors, as well as by 
the authors who wrote for it. These noble institutions and 
plans seemed, however, to have received a sudden check, 
and to be threatened with a long interruption, in consequence 
of the terrible conflagration of the castle, which took place 
in the May of that year. But the confidence in the heredi- 
tary prince was so great that every one was convinced, not 
only that the damage would be repaired, but that, in spite of 
it, every other hope would be fully accomplished. As I in- 
quired after these persons and things as if I were an old 
acquaintance, and expressed a wish to become more inti- 
mately acquainted with them, my visitor replied, in the most 
friendly manner possible, that nothing was easier ; since the 
hereditary prince, with his brother, the Prince Constantin, 
had just arrived in Frankfort, and desired to see and know 
me. I at once expressed the greatest willingness to wait 
upon them ; and my new friend told me that I must not 
delay, as their stay would not be long. In order to equip 
myself for the visit, I took Von Knebel to my father and 
mother, who were surprised at his arrival, and the message 
he bore, and conversed with him with great satisfaction. I 
then proceeded with him to the young princes, who received 
me in a very easy and friendly manner : Count Gortz also, 
the tutor of the hereditary prince, appeared not displeased 
to see me. Though there was no lack of literary subjects 
for our conversation, accident furnished the best possible 
introduction to it, and rendered it at once important and 
profitable. 

Moser's " Patriotische Fantasien " (''Patriotic Fanta- 
sies "), that is to say, the first part, were lying on the table, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 215 

fresh from the binder, with the leaves uncut. As I was famil- 
iar with them, whereas the rest were not, I had the advantage 
of being able to give a complete account of the work, and 
had here a favorable opportunity for speaking with a young 
prince, who was sincerely desirous, and also firmly deter- 
mined, to make use of his station to do all the good in his 
power. Moser' s book, both in its contents and its tone, 
could not but be highly interesting to every German. While, 
by other writers, division, anarchy, and impotence had been 
brought as a reproach against the German Empire, accord- 
ing to Moser this very number of small states was highly 
desirable, as affording room for the special cultivation of 
each, according to its necessities, which must vary with the 
site and peculiarities of such widely different provinces. In 
the same way, I remarked, that Moser, starting with the city 
and bishopric (Stift) of Osnaburg, and thence going over 
the circle of Westphalia, set forth its relation to the whole 
empire : and just as he, in the further examination of the 
subject, uniting the past with the present, deducted the lat- 
ter from the former, and thus clearly showed what alterations 
were desirable or not ; so might every ruler, by proceeding 
in the same way, obtain a thorough knowledge of the con- 
stitution of the state he governs, its connection with its 
neighbors and with the whole empire, and thus enable him- 
self to judge both the present and the future. 

In the course of our conversation, many remarks were 
made with regard to the difference between the states of 
Upper and Lower Saxony : not only their natural produc- 
tions, it was observed, but also their manners, laws, and 
customs, had differed from the earliest times, and, according 
to the form of religion and government, had variously modi- 
fied themselves. We endeavored to obtain a clear view of 
the differences between the two regions ; and, in this attempt, 
it soon appeared how useful it would be to have a good 
model, which if regarded, not in its individual peculiarities, 
but in the general method on which it had been based, might 
be applied to the most widely differing cases, and thereby 
might be highly serviceable in helping us to form a correct 
judgment. 

This conversation, which was kept up when we were set 
down at table, made a better impression in my favor than I 
perhaps deserved. For instead of making such works as be- 
longed to my own sphere of literature the subjects of dis- 
cussion, instead of demanding an undivided attention for the 



216 TRUTH AND FICTION 

drama and for romance, I appeared, while discussing Moser's 
book, to prefer those writers whose talents, proceeding from 
active life, returned to it with immediate benefit, whereas 
works properly poetical, as soaring above mere social and 
material interests, could only be indirectly and accidentally 
profitable. These discussions went on like the stories of the 
Arabian Nights ; one important matter came np after another ; 
many themes were only touched upon without our being able 
to follow them out ; and accordingly, as the stay of the young 
princes in Frankfort was necessarily short, they made me 
promise to follow them to Mayence and spend a few days 
with them there. I gave this promise gladly enough, and 
hastened home to impart the agreeable intelligence to my 
parents. 

My father, however, could not by any means be brought to 
approve of it. In accordance with his sentiments as a citizen 
of the empire, he had always kept aloof from the great ; and, 
although constantly coming in contact with the ' ' charges- 
d'affaires" of the neighboring princes, he had, nevertheless, 
avoided all personal relations with them. In fact, courts 
were among the things about which he was accustomed to 
joke. He was not indeed displeased if any one opposed his 
opinions on this head, only he was not satisfied unless his 
opponent maintained his side with w^it and spirit. If we 
allowed his " Procul a Jove procul a fulmine " to pass, but 
added, that with lightning the question was not so much 
whence it came as whither it went, he would bring up the 
old proverb, u With great lords it is not good to eat cherries. " 
When to this we replied, that it was still worse to eat with 
dainty people out of one basket, he would not deny the truth 
of this ; only he was sure to have another proverb ready at 
hand which was to put us to confusion. For since proverbs 
and rhyming apophthegms proceed from the people, who, 
while they are forced to obey, like at least to speak their 
vengeance, whereas their superiors indemnify themselves by 
deeds ; and since the poetry of the sixteenth century is almost 
wholly of a nervous didactic character, — there is in our lan- 
guage no lack of jests and serious adages, directed from 
below upwards. We juniors, however, now began to aim 
from above downwards, fancying ourselves something great 
as we took up the cause of the great. Of these sayings and 
counter-sayings I will here insert a few. 



KELATIKG TO MY LIFE. 21T 

A. 

Long at court is long in hell, 

B. 

There many good folks warm them well. 

A. 

Such as I am, I'm still mine own: 
To me shall favors ne'er be shown. 

B. 

Blush not a favor to receive, 

For you must take if you would give. 

A. 

This trouble at the court you catch, 

That, where you itch, you must not scratch. 

B. 

The sage, that would the people teach, 
Must scratch a place that does not itch. 

A. 

Those who a slavish office choose, 
One half of life are sure to lose; 
And, come what will, they may be sure 
Old Nick the other will secure. 

B. 

Whoe'er with princes is at home, 
Will some day find good fortune come: 
Who courts the rabble, — to his cost 
Will find that all his year is lost. 

A. 

Though wheat at court seems flourishing, 
Doubt that great harvest it will bring: 
When to your barn you deem it brought, 
You'll find that after all 'tis naught. 

B. 

The wheat that blooms will ripen too, 
For so of old it used to do ; 
And, if a crop is spoiled by hail, 
The next year's harvest will not fail. 



21 s TRUTH AND FICTION 



A. 

He who would serve himself alone, 
Should have a cottage of his own, 

Dwell with his children and his wife, 
Eegale himself with light new wine, 
And on the cheapest viands dine : 

Then nothing can disturb his life. 

B. 

So, from a master thou'ldst be free ? — 
Whither dost thou mean to flee ? 
Dream not that freedom thou wilt get, 
Thou hast a wife to rule thee yet. 
She by her stupid boy is ruled, 
Thus in thy cot thou still art schooled. 

As I was lately looking up these rhymes in some old mem- 
orandum-books, I fell in with many such jeux d' esprit, in 
which we had amplified pithy old German saws, in order to 
set them off against other proverbs which are equally veri- 
fied by experience. A selection from them may perhaps here- 
after, as an epilogue to the " Puppenspiele " (puppet-shows) , 
suggest some pleasant reflections. 

But all these rejoinders could not move my father from his 
opinions. He was in the habit of saving his most stringent 
argument for the close of the discussion. This consisted of 
a minute description of Voltaire's adventure with Frederick 
the Second. He told us how the unbounded favor, familiarity, 
mutual obligations, were at once revoked and forgotten ; how 
he had lived to see the corned}^ out in the arrest of that ex- 
traordinary poet and writer by the Frankfort civic guard, on 
the complaint of the Resident Freytag, and the warrant of 
the Burgomaster Fichard, and his confinement for some time 
in the tavern of the Rose, on the Zeil. To this we might have 
answered in many ways, — among others, that Voltaire was 
not free from blame himself ; but from filial respect we 
always yielded the point. On the present occasion, when 
these things and others like them were alluded to, I hardly 
knew how to demean myself ; for he warned me explicitly, 
maintaining that the invitation was given only to entice me 
into a trap, in order to take vengeance on me for my mis- 
chievous treatment of favored Wieland. Fully as I was 
convinced of the contrary, yet as I saw but too plainly that 
a preconceived opinion, excited by hypochondriac fancies, 
afflicted my worthy father, I was unwilling to act in direct 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 219 

opposition to his convictions. Still I could not find any excuse 
for failing to keep my promise without appearing ungrateful 
and uncourteous. Unfortunately our friend Fraulein von 
Klettenberg, to whose advice we usually resorted in such 
cases, was confined to her bed. In her and my mother I had 
two incomparable companions. I called them Word and 
Deed : for, when the former cast her serene or rather blissful 
glance over earthly things, what was confusion to us children 
of earth at once grew plain before her ; and she could almost 
always point out the right way, because she looked upon the 
labyrinth from above, and was not herself entangled in it. 
When a decision was once made, the readiness and energy of 
my mother could be relied on. While the former had Sight 
for her aid, the latter had Faith ; and, as she maintained her 
serenity in all cases, she was never without the means of 
accomplishing what was proposed or desired. Accordingly 
she was now despatched to our sick friend to obtain her 
opinion ; and, when this turned out in my favor, she was en- 
treated to gain the consent of my father, who yielded, against 
his belief and will. 

It was in a very cold season of the year that I arrived at 
the appointed hour in Mayence. My reception by the young 
princes and by their attendants was no less friendly than the 
invitation. The conversation in Frankfort was recalled, and 
resumed at the point where it had been broken off. When it 
touched upon the recent German literature and its audacities, 
it was perfectly natural that my famous piece, " Gotter, 
Helden, und Wieland " (" Gods, Heroes, and Wieland"), 
should come up, at which I remarked with satisfaction that 
the thing was regarded with good humor. Being called on 
to give the real history of this jeu d y esprit, which had excited 
so great attention, I could not avoid confessing, first of all, 
that, as true fellows of the Upper Rhine, we had no bounds, 
either to our liking or disliking. With us, reverence for 
Shakspeare was carried to adoration. But Wieland, with his 
decided peculiarity of destroying the interest, both of him- 
self and of his readers, had, in the notes to his translation, 
found much fault with the great author, and that in such a 
way as to vex us exceedingly, and to diminish, in our eyes, 
the value of the work. We saw that Wieland, whom we 
had so highly revered as a poet, and who, as a translator, 
had rendered such great service, was, as a critic, capricious, 
one-sided, and unjust. Besides this, he had deliberately 
spoken against our idols, the Greeks ; and this sharpened 



220 TRUTH AND FICTION 

our hostility yet more. It is well known that the Greek 
gods and heroes are eminent, not for moral, but for glorified 
physical, qualities ; for which reason they afford such splen- 
did subjects to artists. Now Wieland, in his "Alceste," 
had presented heroes and demi-gods after the modern fash- 
ion. Against this we had nothing to say, as every one is at 
liberty to mould poetic traditions to his own ends and way of 
thinking. But in the letters on this opera, which he inserted 
in the "Merkur," he appeared to us unduly to exalt this 
mode of treating them ; in short, to show too much of the 
partisan, and to commit an unpardonable sin against the 
good ancients and their higher style, by his absolute unwill- 
ingness to recognize the strong, healthy nature which is the 
basis of their productions. I told them we had hardly dis- 
cussed these grievances with some vehemence in our little 
society, when my ordinary rage for dramatizing every thing 
came upon me one Sunday afternoon ; and so at one sit- 
ting, over a bottle of good Burgundy, I wrote off the whole 
piece, just as it stands. It was no sooner read to those of my 
colleagues as were present, and received by them with excla- 
mations of delight, than I sent the manuscript to Lenz at 
Strasburg, who appeared enraptured with it, and maintained 
that it must be printed without delay. After some corre- 
spondence, I at last consented ; and he put it hastily to 
press at Strasburg. Some time afterwards, I learned that 
this was one of the first steps which Lenz took in his design 
to injure me, and to bring me into disgrace with the public ; 
but at that time I neither knew nor surmised any thing of the 
kind. 

In this way I haxl, with perfect candor, given my new 
patrons an account of the innocent origin of the piece, as well 
as I knew it myself, in order to convince them that it contained 
no personality, nor any ulterior motive. I also took care to 
let them understand with what gayety and recklessness we 
were accustomed to banter and ridicule each other among 
ourselves. With this, I saw that they were quite content. 
They almost admired the great fear we had lest any one of 
ourselves should go to sleep upon his laurels. They compared 
such a society to those buccaneers who, in every moment of 
repose, are afraid of becoming effeminate, and whose leaders, 
when there are no enemies in sight, and there is no one to 
plunder, will let off a pistol under the mess-table, in order that 
even in peace there may be no want of wounds and horrors. 
After considerable discussion pro and con upon this subject, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 221 

I was at last induced to write Wieland a friendly letter. I 
gladly availed myself of the opportunity ; as, in the " Merkow" 
he had spoken most liberally of this piece of youthful folly, 
and, as in literary feuds was almost always his custom, had 
ended the affair in the most skilful manner. 

The few days of my stay at Mayence passed off very pleas- 
antly ; for, when my new patrons were abroad on visits and 
banquets, I remained with their attendants, drew the por- 
traits of several, or went skating, for which the frozen ditches 
of the fortification afforded excellent opportunity. I returned 
home full of the kindness I had met with, and, as I entered 
the house, was on the point of empt}ing my heart by a minute 
account of it ; but I saw only troubled faces, and the convic- 
tion was soon forced upon me that our friend Fraulein von 
Klettenberg was no more. At this I was greatly concerned ; 
because, in my present situation, I needed her more than ever. 
They told me, for my consolation, that a pious death had 
crowned her happy life, and that the cheerfulness of her 
faith had remained undisturbed to the end. But there was 
also another obstacle in the way of a free communication on 
the subject of my visit. My father, instead of rejoicing at 
the fortunate issue of this little adventure, persisted in his 
opinion, and maintained, on the other hand, that it was 
nothing but dissimulation, and that perhaps there was a 
danger of their carrying out in the end something still worse 
against me. I was thus driven to my younger friends with 
my narrative, and to them I could not tell it circumstantially 
enough. But their attachment and good will led to a result 
which to me was most unpleasant. Shortly afterwards ap- 
peared a pamphlet, called " Prometheus and his Reviewers/' 
also in a dramatic form. In this the comical notion was car- 
ried out, of putting little wood-cut figures before the dialogue, 
instead of proper names, and representing, by all sorts of 
satirical images, those critics who had expressed an opinion 
upon my works, or on works akin to them. In one place the 
Altona courier, without his head, was blowing his horn ; here 
a bear was growling, and there a goose was cackling. The 
" Merkur," too, was not forgotten : and many wild and tame 
animals were represented in the atelier of the sculptor en- 
deavoring to put him out ; while he, without taking particu- 
lar notice of them, kept zealously at his work, and did not 
refrain from expressing his opinion about the matter in 
general. The appearance of this jeu d* esprit surprised me 
much, and was as unexpected as it was disagreeable. Its 



222 TRUTH AND FICTION 

style and tone evidently showed that it was by one of our 
society ; and, indeed, I feared it might be attributed to me. 
But what was most annoying, was the circumstance that 
4 ' Prometheus ' • brought out some allusions to my stay at 
Mayence, and to what was said there, which nobody but 
myself could have known. To me this was a proof that the 
author was one of those who formed my most intimate circle 
of friends, where he must have heard me relate these events 
in detail. Accordingly we all looked at each other, and each 
suspected the rest ; but the unknown writer managed very 
well to keep his own secret. I uttered vehement reproaches 
against him ; because it was exceedingly vexatious to me, after 
so gracious a reception and so important a conversation, and 
after the confiding letter I had written to Wieland, to see 
here an occasion for fresh distrust and disagreement. How- 
ever, my uncertainty on this point was not of long duration. 
As I walked up and down my room reading the book aloud, 
I heard clearly, in the fancies and the turns of expression, the 
voice of Wagner — and it was he. When I had rushed down- 
stairs to impart my discovery to my mother, she confessed 
to me that she already knew it. Annoyed at the ill results 
of what had seemed to him a good and praiseworthy plan, 
the author had discovered himself to her, and besought her 
intercession with me, not to fulfil in his person my threat of 
holding no further intercourse with the writer who had so 
abused my confidence. The fact that I had found him out 
myself was very much in his favor, and the satisfaction 
always attending a discovery of one's own inclined me to 
be merciful. The fault which had given occasion for such a 
proof of my sagacity was forgiven. Nevertheless, it was 
not easy to convince the public that Wagner was the author, 
and that I had had no hand in the game. No one believed 
that he possessed such versatility of talent ; and no one re- 
flected, that it was very easy for him, though possessing no 
remarkable talents of his own, to notice, seize upon, and 
bring out in his own way, all that for some time had passed, 
either in jest and earnest, in an intellectual society. And 
thus on this occasion, as on many others afterwards, I had to 
suffer, not only for my own follies, but also for the indiscre- 
tion and precipitancy of my friends. 

As the remembrance of them is here suggested by many 
circumstances, I will speak of some distinguished men who, 
at different times on their passage through Frankfort, either 
lodged at our house or partook of our friendly hospitality. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 223 

Once more Klopstock stands justly at the head. I had already 
exchanged several letters with him, when he announced to 
me that he was invited to go to Carlsruhe and to reside there ; 
that he would be in Friedberg by a specified day, and wished 
that I would come there and fetch him. I did not fail to be 
there at the hour. He, however, had been accidentally 
detained upon the road ; and, after I had waited in vain for 
some days, I went home, where he did not arrive till after 
some time, and then excused his delay, and received very 
kindly my readiness to come to meet him. His person was 
small, but well-built ; his manners, without being stiff, were 
serious and precise ; his conversation was measured and 
agreeable. On the wiiole, there was something of the diplo- 
matist in his bearing. Such a man undertakes the difficult 
task of supporting, at the same time, his own dignity, and 
that of a superior to whom he is responsible ; of advancing 
his own interest, together with the much more important 
interest of a prince, or even of a whole state ; and of mak- 
ing himself, beyond all things, pleasing to other men while 
in this critical position. In this way Klopstock appeared to 
bear himself as a man of worth, and as the representative of 
other things, — of religion, of morality, and freedom. He 
had also assumed another peculiarity of men of the world ; 
namely, not readily to speak on subjects upon which he was 
particularly expected and desired to discourse. He was 
seldom heard to mention poetic and literary subjects. But, 
as he found in me and my friends a set of passionate skaters, 
he discoursed to us at length on this noble art, on which he had 
thought much, having considered what in it was to be sought 
and what avoided. Still, before we could receive the instruc- 
tion he proffered, we had to submit to be put right as to the 
word itself, in which we blundered. 1 We spoke in good 
Upper Saxon of Schlittsckuhen, which he would not allow to 
pass at all ; for the word, he said, does not come from 
Schlitten (sledge), as if one went on little runners, but from 
Schreiten (to stride), because, like the Homeric gods, the 
skater strides aw r ay on these winged shoes over the sea frozen 
into a plain. Next we came to the instrument itself. He 
would have nothing to do with the high grooved skates, but 
recommended the low, broad, smooth-bottomed Friseland 
steel skates as the most serviceable for speed. He was no 

1 There are two words used for " skate." One of them, Schlittselnih, means 
"sledge-shoe;" the other, Schrittschuh, means "stride-shoe." Gothe and his 
friends make use of the former : Klopstock contends for the latter. 



224 TRUTH AND FICTION 

friend to the tricks of art which are usually performed in this 
exercise. I procured, according to his advice, a pair of 
smooth skates, with long toes, and used them for several 
years, though with some discomfort. He understood, too, 
the science of horsemanship and horsebreaking, and liked to 
talk about it : thus, as if by design, he avoided all conver- 
sation upon his own profession, that he might speak with 
greater freedom about arts quite foreign to it, which he 
pursued only as a pastime. I might say much more of these 
and other peculiarities of this extraordinary man, if those 
who lived longer with him had not already informed us fully 
about them. One observation, however, I will not suppress, 
which is, that men whom nature, after endowing them with 
uncommon advantages, has placed in a narrow circle of 
action, or at least in one disproportioned to their powers, 
generally fall into eccentricities, and, as they have no oppor- 
tunity of making direct use of their gifts, seek to employ 
them in an extraordinary or whimsical manner. 

Zimmermann was also our guest for a time. He was tall 
and powerfully built ; of a vehement nature, open to every 
impulse ; yet he had his outward bearing and manners per- 
fectly under control, so that in society he appeared as a 
skilful physician and polished man of the world. It was only 
in his writings and amongst his most confidential friends 
that he gave free course to his untamed inward character. 
His conversation was varied and highly instructive ; and, for 
one who could pardon his keen sensitiveness to whatever 
grated on his own personal feelings and merits, no more 
desirable companion could be found. For myself, as what 
is called vanity never disturbed me, and I in return often 
presumed to be vain also, that is, did not hesitate to enlarge 
upon whatever in myself pleased me, I got on with him capi- 
tally. We mutually tolerated and scolded each other ; and, 
as he showed himself thoroughly open and communicative, I 
learned from him a great deal in a short time. 

To judge such a man with the indulgence of gratitude, nay, 
on principle, I cannot say that he was vain. We Germans 
misuse the word " vain'' (citel) but too often. In a strict 
sense, it carries with it the idea of emptiness ; and we prop- 
erly designate by it only the man who cannot conceal his 
joy at his Nothing, his contentment with a hollow phantom. 
With Zimmermann it was exactly the reverse : he had great 
deserts, and no inward satisfaction. The man who cannot 
enjoy his own natural gifts in silence, and find his reward 



RELATING TO MY LIFE, 225 

in the exercise of them, but must wait and hope for their 
recognition and appreciation by others, will generally find 
himself but badly off, because it is but too well known a fact, 
that men are very niggard of their applause ; that they rather 
love to mingle alloy with praise, and, where it can in any 
degree be done, to turn it into blame. Whoever comes 
before the public without being prepared for this, will meet 
with nothing but vexation ; since, even if he does not over- 
estimate his own production, it still has for him an unlimited 
value ; while the reception it meets with in the world is, in 
every case, qualified. Besides, a certain susceptibility is 
necessary for praise and applause, as for every other 
pleasure. Let this be applied to Zimmermann, and it will 
be acknowledged in his case, too, that no one can obtain 
what he does not bring with him. 

If this apology cannot be allowed, still less shall we be able 
to justify another fault of this remarkable man, because it 
disturbed and even destroyed the happiness of others. I 
mean his conduct towards his children. His daughter, who 
travelled with him, staid with us while he visited the neigh- 
boring scenes. She might be about sixteen years old, 
slender and well formed, but without elegance ; her regular 
features would have been agreeable, if there had appeared in 
them a trace of animation, but she was always as quiet as a 
statue ; she spoke seldom, and in the presence of her father 
never. But she had scarcely spent a few days alone with my 
mother, receiving the cheerful and affectionate attentions of 
this sympathizing woman, when she threw herself at her feet 
with an opened heart, and, with a thousand tears, begged 
to be allowed to remain with her. With the most passionate 
language she declared that she would remain in the house 
as a servant, as a slave all her life, rather than go back with 
her father, of whose severity and tyranny no one could form 
an idea. Her brother had gone mad under his treatment : she 
had hitherto borne it, though with difficulty, because she had 
believed that it was the same, or not much better, in every 
family ; but now that she had experienced such a loving, mild, 
and considerate treatment, her situation at home had become 
to her a perfect hell. My mother was greatly moved as she 
related to me this passionate effusion ; and, indeed, she went 
so far in her sympathy, as to give me pretty clearly to 
understand, that she would be content to keep the girl in the 
house, if I would make up my mind to marry her. If she 
were an orphan, I replied, I might think and talk it over; 



226 TRUTH AND FICTION 

but God keep me from a father-in-law who is such a father ! 
My mother took great pains with the poor girl, but this 
made her only the more unhappy. At last an expedient was 
found, by putting her to a boarding-school. She did not, 
however, live very long. 

I should hardly mention this culpable peculiarity of a man 
of such great deserts, if it had not already become a matter 
of public notoriety, and especially had not the unfortunate 
hypochondria, with which, in his last hours, he tortured him- 
self and others, been commonly talked of. For that severity 
towards his children was nothing less than hypochondria, a 
partial insanity, a continuous moral murder, which, after 
making his children its victims, was at last directed against 
himself. We must also remember, that, though apparently 
in such good health, he was a great sufferer, even in his best 
years ; that an incurable disease troubled the skilful physician 
who had relieved, and still gave ease to, so many of the 
afflicted. Yes, this distinguished man, with all his outward 
reputation, fame, honor, rank, and wealth, led the saddest 
life ; and whoever will take the pains to learn more about it 
from existing publications, will not condemn but pity him. 

Should I be expected to give a more precise account of 
the effect this distinguished man had upon me, I must once 
more recall the general features of that period. The epoch 
in which we were living might be called an epoch of high 
requisitions, for every one demanded of himself and of oth- 
ers what no mortal had hitherto accomplished. On chosen 
spirits who could think and feel, a light had arisen, which 
enabled them to see that an immediate, original understanding 
of nature, and a course of action based upon it, was both the 
best thing a man could desire, and also not difficult to attain. 
Experience thus once more became the universal watchword, 
and every one opened his eyes as wide as he could. Phy- 
sicians, especially, had a most pressing call to labor to this 
end, and the best opportunity for finding it. There shone 
upon them, out of antiquity, a star which could serve as an 
example of all that was to be desired. The writings which 
had come down to us under the name of Hippocrates, 
furnished a model of the way in which a man should both 
observe the world and relate what he had seen, without 
mixing up himself with it. But no one considered that we 
cannot see like the Greeks, and that we shall never become 
such poets, sculptors, and physicians as they were. Even 
granted that we could learn from them, still the results of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 227 

experience already gone through were almost beyond number, 
and, besides, were not always of the clearest kind ; more- 
over had too often been made to accord with preconceived 
opinions. All these were to be mastered, discriminated, and 
sifted. This, also, was an immense demand. Then, again, 
it was required that each observer, in his personal sphere 
and labors, should acquaint himself with the true, 
healthy nature, as if she were now for the first time 
noticed and attended, and thus only what was genuine 
and real was to be learned. But as, in general, learning can 
never exist without the accompaniment of a universal smat- 
tering and a universal pedantry, nor the practice of any 
profession without empiricism and charlatanry ; so there 
sprung up a violent conflict, the purpose of which was to 
guard use from abuse, and place the kernel high above the 
shell in men's estimation. In the execution of this design, it 
was perceived that the shortest way of getting out of the 
affair, was to call in the aid of genius, whose magic gifts 
could settle the strife, and accomplish what was required. 
Meanwhile, however, the understanding meddled with the 
matter : all it alleged must be reduced to clear notions, and 
exhibited in a logical form, that every prejudice might be put 
aside, and all superstition destroyed. And since the achieve- 
ments of some extraordinary men, such as Boerhaave and 
Haller, were actually incredible, people thought themselves 
justified in demanding even still more from their pupils and 
successors. It was maintained that the path was opened, 
forgetting that in earthly things a path can very rarely be 
spoken of : for, as the water that is dislodged by a ship 
instantly flows in again behind it ; so by the law of its nature, 
when eminent spirits have once driven error aside, and 
made a place for themselves, it very quickly closes again 
upon them. 

But of this the ardent Zimmermann could form no idea 
whatever : he would not admit that absurdity did, in fact, fill 
up the world. Impatient, even to madness, he rushed to 
attack every thing that he saw and believed to be wrong. It 
was all the same to him whether he was fighting with a nurse 
or with Paracelsus, with a quack or a chemist. His blows 
fell alike heavily in either case ; and, when he had worked 
himself out of breath, he was greatly astonished to see the 
heads of this hydra, which he thought he had trodden under 
foot, springing up all fresh again, and showing him their 
teeth from innumerable jaws. 



228 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Every one who reads his writings, especially his clever 
work "On Experience," will perceive more distinctly than I 
can express them, the subjects of discussion between this 
excellent man and myself. His influence over me was the 
more powerful, as he was twenty years my senior. Having 
a high reputation as a physician, he was chiefly employed 
among the upper classes ; and the corruption of the times, 
caused by effeminacy and excess, was a constant theme of 
conversation with him. Thus his medical discourses, like 
those of the philosophers and my poetical friends, drove me 
again back to nature. In his vehement passion for improve- 
ment I could not fully participate : on the contrary, after we 
separated, I instantly drew back into my own proper calling, 
and endeavored to employ the gifts nature had bestowed 
upon me, with moderate exertion, and by good-natured op- 
position to what I disapproved of, to gain a standing for 
myself, in perfect indifference how far my influence might 
reach or whither it might lead me. 

Von Salis, who was setting up the large boarding-school 
at Marschlins, visited us also at that time. He was an 
earnest and intelligent man, and must have quietly made 
many humorous observations on the irregular though genial 
mode of life in our little society. The same was probably 
the case with Sulzer, who came in contact with us on his 
journey to the south of France : at least, a passage in his 
travels, where he speaks of me, seems to favor this opinion. 

These visits, which were as agreeable as they were profita- 
ble, were, however, diversified by others, which we would 
rather have been spared. Needy and shameless adventurers 
fixed themselves on the confiding youth, supporting their 
urgent demands by real as well as fictitious relationships and 
misfortunes. They borrowed my money, and made it neces- 
sary for me to borrow in turn ; so that I in consequence fell 
into the most unpleasant position with opulent and kind- 
hearted friends. If I wished that all these unfortunate folks 
were food for the crows, my father found himself in the 
situation of the magician's apprentice, 1 who was willing 
enough to see his house washed clean, but is frightened 
when the flood rushes in, without ceasing, over threshold and 
stairs. By an excessive kindness, the quiet and moderate 
plan of life which my father had designed for me was step 
by step interrupted and put off, and from day to day 
changed contrary to all expectation. All idea of a long 

1 The allusion is to Gftthe's own poem, " Der Zauberlehrling." 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 229 

visit to Ratisbon and Vienna was as good as given up ; but 
still I was to pass through those cities on my way to Italy, 
so as at least to gain a general notion of them. On the 
other hand, some of my friends, who did not approve of 
taking so long a circuit in order to get into active life, 
recommended that I should take advantage of a moment 
which seemed in every way favorable, and think on a per- 
manent establishment in my native city. Although I was 
excluded from the Council, first through my grandfather, and 
then through my uncle, there were yet many civil offices to 
which I could lay claim, where I could remain for a time and 
await the future. There were agencies of several kinds 
which offered employment enough, and the place of a charge- 
d'affaires was highly respectable. I let them tell me about 
it, thinking that I was fit for the like without having pre- 
viously asked myself whether a mode of life and business 
which requires, that, amid dissipation, we should most of all 
act for a certain end, would suit me. To these plans and 
designs there was now added a tender sentiment, which 
seemed to draw me towards a domestic life, and to accelerate 
my determination. 

The society of young men and women already mentioned, 
which was kept together by, if it did not owe its origin to, 
my sister, still survived after her marriage and departure, 
because the members had grown accustomed to each other, 
and could not spend one evening in the week better than in 
this friendly circle. The eccentric orator also, whose acquaint- 
ance we made in the sixth book, had, after many adventures, 
returned to us, more clever and more perverse than ever, and 
once again played the legislator of the little state. As a 
sequel to our former diversions, he had devised something of 
the same kind : he enacted that every week lots should be 
drawn, not as before to decide what pairs should be lovers, 
but married couples. How lovers should conduct themselves 
towards each other, he said, we knew well enough : but of 
the proper deportment of husbands and wives in society we 
were totally ignorant ; and this, with our increasing years, 
we ought to learn before all things. He laid down general 
rules, which, of course, set forth that we must act as if we 
did not belong to each other ; that we must not sit or speak 
often together, much less indulge in any thing like caresses. 
And at the same time we were not only to avoid every thing 
which would occasion mutual suspicion and discord, but, on 
the contrary, he was to win the greatest praises, who, with 

uoetne—a Vol 2 



230 TRUTH AND FICTION 

his free and open manners, should yet most endear to him- 
self his wife. 

The lots were at once drawn ; some odd matches that they 
decided were laughed at and joked about ; and the universal 
marriage comedy was begun in good humor and renewed 
every week. 

Now, it fell out strangely enough, that, from the first, 
the same lady fell twice to me. She was a very good 
creature, just such a woman as one would like to think of as 
a wife. Her figure was beautiful and well-proportioned, her 
face pleasing, while in her manners there prevailed a repose 
which testified to the health of her mind and body. Every 
day and hour she was perfectly the same. Her domestic 
industry was in high repute. Though she was not talkative, 
a just understanding and natural talents could be recognized 
in her language. To meet the advances of such a person 
with friendliness and esteem was natural : on a general prin- 
ciple I was already accustomed to do it, and now I acted from 
a sort of traditional kindness as a social duty. But, when 
the lot brought us together for the third time, our jocose 
law-giver declared in the most solemn manner that Heaven 
had spoken, and we could not again be separated. We sub- 
mitted to his sentence ; and both of us adapted ourselves 
so well to our public conjugal duties, that we might really 
have served as a model. Since all the pairs who were 
severally united for the evening were obliged, by the general 
rules, to address each other for the few hours with Du (thou) , 
we had, after a series of weeks, grown so accustomed to this 
confidential pronoun, that, even in the intervals, whenever 
we accidentally came together, the Du would kindly come 
out. 1 Habit is a strange thing : by degrees both of us found 
that nothing was more natural than this relation. I liked 
her more and more, while her manner of treating me gave 
evidence of a beautiful calm confidence ; so that on many an 
occasion, if a priest had been present, we might have been 
united on the spot without much hesitation. 

As at each of our social gatherings something new was re- 
quired to be read aloud, I brought with me one evening a per- 
fect novelty, " The Memoir of Beaumarchais against Clavigo," 
in the original. It gained great applause. The thoughts to 
which it gave occasion were freely expressed ; and, after much 

1 Members of the same family address each other with the second person singular 
" Du," instead of the more formal third person plural, " Sie." Jn the same way the 
French employ " Tu " instead of " Vous." — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 231 

had been spoken on both sides, my partner said, "If I 
were thy liege lady, and not thy wife, I would entreat thee to 
change this memoir into a play : it seems to me perfectly 
suited for it." — "That thou mayst see, my love," I replied, 
u that liege lady and wife can be united in one person, I 
promise, that, at the end of a week, the subject-matter of 
this work, in the form of a piece for the theatre, shall be 
read aloud, as has just been done with these pages." They 
wondered at so bold a promise, but I did not delay to set 
about accomplishing it. What, in such cases, is called in- 
vention, was with me instantaneous. As I was escorting 
home my titulary wife, I was silent. She asked me what was 
the matter. U I am pondering on the play," I answered, 
u and have got already into the middle of it. I wished to 
show thee that I would gladly do any thing to please thee." 
She pressed my hand ; and, as I in return snatched a kiss, 
she said, " Thou must forget thy character ! To be loving, 
people think, is not proper for married folks." — " Let 
them think," I rejoined : " we will have it our own way." 

Before I got home, — and, indeed, I took a very circuitous 
route, — the piece was pretty far advanced. Lest this should 
seem boastful, I will confess, that previously, on the first and 
second reading, the subject had appeared to me dramatic 
and even theatrical ; but, without such a stimulus, this piece, 
like so many others, would have remained among the number 
of the merely possible creations. My mode of treating it 
is well enough known. Weary of villains, who, from revenge, 
hate, or mean purposes, attack a noble nature and ruin it, I 
wished, in Carlos, to show the working of clear good sense, 
associated with true friendship, against passion, inclination, 
and outward necessity, in order for once to compose a 
tragedy in this way. Availing myself of the example of our 
patriarch Shakspeare, I did not hesitate for a moment to 
translate, word for word, the chief scene, and all that was 
properly dramatic in the original. Finally, for the conclusion, 
I borrowed the end of an English ballad ; and so I was ready 
before the Friday came. The good effect which I attained 
in the reading will easily be believed. My liege spouse took 
not a little pleasure in it ; and it seemed as if, by this pro- 
duction, as an intellectual offspring, our union was drawn 
closer and dearer. 

Mephistopheles Merck here did me, for the first time, a 
great injury. When I communicated the piece to him, he 
answered, "You must write hereafter no more such trifles: 



'232 TRUTH AND FICTION 

others can do such things." In this he was wrong. We 
should not, in all things, transcend the notions which men 
have already formed : it is good that much should be in ac- 
cordance with the common way of thinking. Had I at that 
time written a dozen such pieces, which with a little stimulus 
would have been easy enough, three or four of them would 
perhaps have retained a place on the stage. Every theatrical 
manager who knows the value of a repertoire, can say what 
an advantage that would have been. 

By these and other intellectual diversions, our whimsical 
game of marriage became a family story, if not the talk of 
the town, which did not sound disagreeably in the ears of the 
mothers of our fair ones. My mother, also, was not at all 
opposed to such an event : she had before looked with favor 
on the lady with whom I had fallen into so strange a relation, 
and did not doubt that she would make as good a daughter-in- 
law as a wife. The aimless bustle in which I had for some 
time lived was not to her mind ; and, in fact, she had to bear 
the worst of it. It was her part to provide abundant enter- 
tainment for the stream of guests, without any compensation 
for furnishing quarters to this literary army, other than 
the honor they did her son by feasting upon him. Besides, 
it was clear to her that so many young persons — all of them 
without property — united, not only for scientific and poetic 
purposes, but also for that of passing the time in the gayest 
manner, would soon become a burden and injury to them- 
selves, and most certainly to me, whose thoughtless gener- 
osity, and passion for becoming security for others, she too 
well knew. 

Accordingly she looked on the long-planned Italian jour- 
ney, which my father once more brought forward, as the best 
means of cutting short all these connections at once. But, in 
order that no new danger might spring up in the wide world, 
she intended first of all to bind fast the union which had already 
been suggested, so as to make a return into my native coun- 
try more desirable, and my final determination more decided. 
Whether I only attribute this scheme to her, or whether she 
had actually formed it with her departed friend, I am not 
quite sure : enough, that her actions seemed to be based on 
a well-digested plan. I had very often to hear from her a 
regret, that, since Cornelia's marriage, our family circle was 
altogether too small ; it was felt that I had lost a sister, my 
mother an assistant, and my father a pupil : nor was this all 
that was said. It happened, as if by accident, that my 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 233 

parents met the lady on a walk, invited her into the garden, 
and conversed with her for a long time. Thereupon there 
was some pleasantry at supper ; and the remark was made, 
with a certain satisfaction, that she had pleased my father, 
as she possessed all the chief qualities which he, being a 
judge, required of a woman. 

One thing after another was now arranged in our first 
story as if guests were expected : the linen was reviewed, 
and some hitherto neglected furniture was thought of. One 
day I surprised my mother in a garret examining the old 
cradles, among which an immense one of walnut, inlaid with 
ivory and ebony, in which I had formerly been rocked, was 
especially prominent. She did not seem altogether pleased 
when I said to her, that such swing-boxes were quite out of 
fashion, and that now people put babies, with free limbs, 
into a neat little basket, and carried them about for show, 
by a strap over the shoulder, like other small wares. 

In short, such prognostics of a renewal of domestic ac- 
tivity became frequent ; and, as I was in every way submis- 
sive, the thought of a state which would last through life 
spread a peace over our house and its inhabitants such as 
had not been enjoyed for a long time. 



SIXTEENTH BOOK. 



What people commonly say of misfortunes, — that they 
never come alone, — may with almost as much truth be said 
also of good fortune, and, indeed, of other circumstances 
which often cluster around us in a harmonious way, whether 
it be by a kind of fatality, or whether it be that man has the 
power of attracting to himself all mutually related things. 

At any rate, my present experience showed me every thing 
conspiring to produce an outward and an inward peace. The 
former came to me while I resolved patiently to await the 
result of what others were meditating and designing for me : 
the latter, however, I had to attain for myself by renewing 
former studies. 

I had not thought of Spinoza for a long time, and now I 
was driven to him by an attack upon him. In our library 
I found a little book, the author of which railed violently 



234 TRUTH AND FICTION 

against that original thinker, and, to go the more effectually 
to work, had inserted for a frontispiece a picture of Spinoza 
himself, with the inscription, " Signum reprobationis in vultu 
gerens" bearing on his face the stamp of reprobation. This 
there was no gainsaying, indeed, so long as one looked at 
the picture ; for the engraving was wretchedly bad, a perfect 
caricature : so that I could not help thinking of those adver- 
saries who, when they conceive a dislike to any one, first of 
all misrepresent him, and then assail the monster of their 
own creation. 

This little book, however, made no impression upon me ; 
since generally I did not like controversial works, but pre- 
ferred always to learn from the author himself how he did 
think, than" to hear from another how he ought to have 
thought. Still, curiosity led me to the article " Spinoza ' ' in 
Bayle's Dictionary, a work as valuable for its learning and 
acuteness as it is ridiculous and pernicious by its gossiping 

and scandal. 

The article " Spinoza " excited in me displeasure and mis- 
trust. In the first place, the philosopher is represented as an 
atheist, and his opinions as most abominable ; but, immedi- 
ately afterwards, it is confessed that he was a calmly reflect- 
ing man, devoted to his studies, a good citizen, a sympathiz- 
ing neighbor, and a peaceable individual. The writer seemed 
to me to have quite forgotten the words of the gospel, "By 
their fruits ye shall know them;" for how could a life pleasing 
in the sight of God and man spring from corrupt principles? 
I well remembered what peace of mind and clearness of 
ideas came over me when I first turned over the posthumous 
works of that remarkable man. The effect itself was still 
quite distinct to my mind, though I could not recall the 
particulars : I therefore speedily had recourse again to the 
works to which I had owed so much, and again the same 
calm air breathed over me. I gave myself up to this read- 
ing : and thought, while I looked into myself, that I had 
never before so clearly seen through the world. 

As on this subject there always has been, and still is 
even in these later times, so much controversy, I would not 
wish to be misunderstood ; and therefore I make here a few 
remarks upon these so much feared, nay, abhorred, views. 

Our physical as well as our social life, manners, customs, 
worlcly wisdom, philosophy, religion, and many an accidental 
event, all call upon us to deny ourselves. Much that is most 
inwardly peculiar to us we are not allowed to develop; 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 235 

much that we need from without for the completion of our 
character is withheld ; while, on the other hand, so much is 
forced upon us which is as alien to us as it is burdensome. 
We are robbed of all we have laboriously acquired for our- 
selves, or friendly circumstances have bestowed upon us ; 
and, before we can see clearly what we are, we find ourselves 
compelled to part with our personality, piece by piece, till 
at last it is gone altogether. Indeed, the case is so universal, 
that it seems a law of society to despise a man who shows 
himself surly on that account. On the contrary, the bitterer 
the cup we have to drink, the more pleasant face we must 
put on, in order that composed lookers-on may not be of- 
fended by the least grimace. 

To solve this painful problem, however, nature has en- 
dowed man with ample power, activity, and endurance. But 
especially is he aided therein by his volatility (Leichtsinn) , a 
boon to man which nothing can take away. By means of it 
he is able to renounce the cherished object of the moment, 
provided the next present him something new to reach at ; 
and thus he goes on unconsciously remodelling his whole 
life. We are continually putting one passion in the place of 
another : employments, inclinations, tastes, hobbies, — we try 
them all, and end by exclaiming, All is vanity! No one is 
shocked by this false and murmuring speech ; nay, every one 
thinks, while he says it, that he is uttering a wise and indis- 
putable maxim. A few men there are, and only a few, w r ho 
anticipate this insupportable feeling, and avoid all calls to 
such partial resignation by one grand act of total self-renun- 
ciation . 

Such men convince themselves of the Eternal, the Neces- 
sary, and of Immutable Law, and seek to form to themselves 
ideas which are incorruptible, nay, which observation of the 
Perishable does not shake, but rather confirms. But, since 
in this there is something superhuman, such persons are 
commonly esteemed in-human (monsters), without a God 
and without a World. People hardly know what sort of 
horns and claws to give them. 

My confidence in Spinoza rested on the serene effect he 
wrought in me ; and it only increased when I found my 
worthy mystics were accused of Spinozism, and learned that 
even Leibnitz himself could not escape the charge, — nay, 
that Boerhaave, being suspected of similar sentiments, had 
to abandon Theology for Medicine. 

But let no one think that I would have subscribed to his 



236 TRUTH AND FICTION 

writings, and assented to them, verbatim et literatim. For, 
that no one really understands another ; that no one does 
attach to the same word the same idea which another does ; 
that a dialogue, a book, excites in different persons different 
trains of thought, —this I had long seen all too plainly ; and 
the reader will trust the assertion of the author of " Faust ' 
and " Werther," that, deeply experienced in such misunder- 
standings, he was never so presumptuous as to think that he 
understood perfectly a man, who, as the scholar of Descartes, 
raised himself, through mathematical and rabbinical studies, 
to the highest reach of thought, and whose name, even at 
this day, "seems to mark the limit of all speculative efforts. 

How much I appropriated from Spinoza would be seen 
distinctly enough, if the visit of the " Wandering Jew' 5 to 
Spinoza, which I had devised as a worthy ingredient for that 
poem, existed in writing. But it pleased me so much in the 
conception, audi found so much delight in meditating on it 
in silence, that I never could bring myself to the point of 
writing it out. Thus the notion, which would have been well 
enough as a passing joke, became expanded until it lost its 
charm ; and I banished it from my mind as something trouble- 
some. The chief points, however, of what I owed to my 
study of Spinoza, so far as they have remained indelibly 
impressed on my mind, and have exercised a great influence 
on the subsequent course of my life, I will now unfold as 
briefly and succinctly as possible. 

Nature works according to such eternal, necessary, divine 
laws, that the Deity himself could alter nothing in them. 
In this belief, all men are unconsciously agreed. Think only 
how a natural phenomenon, which should intimate any degree 
of understanding, reason, or even of caprice, would instantly 
astonish and terrify us. 

When in animals there is exhibited any thing like reason, 
it is long before we can recover from our amazement ; for, 
although they are so near to us, they nevertheless seem to 
be divided from us by an infinite gulf, and to belong alto- 
gether to the kingdom of necessity. It is therefore impossi- 
ble to take it ill if some thinkers have pronounced the 
infinitely ingenious, but strictly limited, organization of those 
creatures, to be thoroughly mechanical. 

If we turn to plants, our position is still more strikingly 
confirmed. How unaccountable is the feeling which seizes 
an observer upon seeing the Mimosa, as soon as it is 
touched, fold together in pairs its downy leaves, and finally 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. S3 



N 



clap down its little stalk as if upon a joint (Gewerbe). 
Still higher rises that feeling, to which I will give no name, 
at the sight of the Iledysarum Gyrans, which, without any 
apparent outward occasion, moves up and down its little 
leaves, and seems to play with itself as with our thoughts. 
Let us imagine a Banana suddenly endowed with a simi- 
lar capacity, so that of itself it could by turns let down 
and lift up again its huge leafy canopy : who would not, 
upon seeing it the first time, start back in terror? So 
rooted within us is the idea of our own superiority, that we 
absolutely refuse to concede to the outward world any part 
or portion in it ; nay, if we could, we would too often with- 
hold such advantages from our fellows. 

On the other hand, a similar horror seizes upon us, when 
we see a man unreasonably opposing universally recognized 
moral laws, or unwisely acting against the interest of him- 
self and others. To get rid of the repugnance we feel on 
such occasions, we convert it at once into censure or detesta- 
tion ; and we seek, either in reality or in thought, to get free 
from such a man. 

This contrariety between Reason and Necessity, which 
Spinoza threw out in so strong a light, I, strangely enough, 
applied to my own being ; and what has been said is, prop- 
erly speaking, only for the purpose of rendering intelligible 
what follows. 

I had come to look upon my indwelling poetic talent alto- 
gether as Nature ; the more so, as I had always been im- 
pelled to regard outward Nature as its proper object. The 
exercise of this poetic gift could indeed be excited and de- 
termined by circumstances ; but its most jo} r ful, its richest, 
action was spontaneous, — na} r , even involuntary. 

Through field and forest roaming, 
My little songs still humming, 
I spent the live-long day. 

In my nightly vigils the same thing happened : I there- 
fore often wished, like one of my predecessors, to get me a 
leathern jerkin made, and to accustom myself to write in 
the dark, so as to be able to fix down at once all such unpre- 
meditated effusions. So frequently had it happened, that, 
after composing a little piece in my head, I could not recall 
it, that I would now hurry to the desk, and, at one standing, 
write off the poem from beginning to end ; and, as I could 
not spare time to adjust my paper, however obliquely it 
might lie, the lines often crossed it diagonally. In such a 



238 TRUTH AND FICTION 

mood I liked best to get hold of a lead-pencil, because I 
could write most readily with it ; whereas the scratching and 
spluttering of the pen would sometimes wake me from my 
somnambular poetizing, confuse me, and stifle a little con- 
ception in its birth. For the poems thus created I had a par- 
ticular reverence ; for I felt towards them somewhat as the 
hen does towards her chickens, which she sees hatched and 
chirping about her. My old whim of making known these 
things only by means of private readings, now returned to 
me : to exchange them for money seemed to me detestable. 

And this suggests to me to mention in the present place 
a little incident, which, however, did not take place till some 
time after. When the demand for my works had increased, 
and a collected edition was much called for, these feelings 
held me back from preparing it myself : Himburg, however, 
took advantage of my hesitation ; and I unexpectedly re- 
ceived one day several copies of my collected works in print. 
With cool audacity this unauthorized publisher even boasted 
of having done me ra public service, and offered to send me, 
if I wished, some Berlin porcelain by way of compensation. 
His offer served to remind me of the law which compelled the 
Jews of Berlin, when they married, to purchase a certain 
quantity of porcelain, in order to keep up the sale of the 
Royal manufacture. The contempt which was shown for the 
shameless pirate led me to suppress the indignation which I 
could not but feel at such a robbery. I gave him no reply ; 
and, while he was making himself very comfortable with my 
property, I revenged my self in silence with the following 
verses : — 

Records of the years once dreamed away, 

Long-fallen hairs, and flowers that show decay, 

Faded ribbons, veils so lightly wove, 

The mournful pledges of a vanished love ; 

Things that to the flames should long have gone, — 

Saucy Sosias snatches every one. 

Just as though he were the heir to claim 

Lawfully the poets' works and fame. 

And, to make the owner full amends, 

Paltry tea and coffee cups he sends ! 

Take your china back, your gingerbread ! 

For all Himburgs living I am dead. 

This very Nature, however, which thus spontaneously 
brought forth so many longer and smaller works, was subject 
to long pauses ; and for considerable periods I was unable, 
even when I most wished it, to produce any thing, and con- 
sequently often suffered from ennui. The perception of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 239 

such contrasts within me gave rise to the thought whether it 
would not be my wisest course to employ on the other hand, 
for my own and others' profit and advantage, the human, 
rational, and intellectual part of my being, and so as I already 
had done, and as I now felt myself more and more called 
upon to do, devote the intervals, when Nature ceased to in- 
fluence me, to worldly occupations, and thus to leave no one 
of my faculties unused. This course, which seemed to be 
dictated by those general ideas before described, was so 
much in harmony with my character, and my position in life, 
that I resolved to adopt it, and by this means to check the 
wavering and hesitation to which I had hitherto been subject. 
Very pleasant was it to me to reflect, that thus, for actual 
service to my fellow-men, I might demand a substantial re- 
ward ; while, on the other hand, I might go on disinterestedly 
spending that lovely gift of nature as a sacred thing. By 
this consideration I guarded against the bitterness of feeling 
which might have arisen when circumstances should force 
upon the remark that precisely this talent, so courted and 
admired in Germany, was treated as altogether beyond the 
pale of the law and of justice. For not only were piracies 
considered perfectly allowable, and even comical, in Berlin, 
but the estimable Margrave of Baden, so praised for his 
administrative virtues, and the Emperor Joseph, who had 
justified so many hopes, lent their sanction, one to his Mack- 
lot, and the other to his honorable noble von Trattner ; and 
it was declared, that the rights, as well as the property, of 
genius, should be left at the absolute mercy of the trade. 

One day, when we were complaining of this to a visitor 
from Baden, he told us the following story : Her ladyship 
the Margravine, being a very active lady, had established 
a paper-manufactory ; but the paper was so bad that it was 
impossible to dispose of it. Thereupon Mr. Bookseller Mack- 
lot proposed, if he were permitted to print the German poets 
and prose writers, he would use this paper, and thus enhance 
its value. The proposal was adopted with avidity. 

Of course we pronounced this malicious piece of . scandal 
to be a mere fabrication, but found our pleasure in it not- 
withstanding. The name of Macklot became a by-word at 
the time, and was applied by us to all mean transactions. 
And a volatile youth, often reduced to borrowing himself, 
while others' meanness was enriching itself through his 
talents, felt sufficiently compensated by a couple of good 
jokes. 



240 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Children and youths wander on in a sort of happy intoxi- 
cation, which betrays itself especially in the fact, that the 
good innocent creatures are scarcely able to notice, and still 
less to understand, the ever-changing state of things around 
them. They regard the world as raw material which they 
must shape, as a treasure which they must take possession 
of. Every thing they seem to think belongs to them, every 
thing must be subservient to their will ; indeed, on this ac- 
count, the greater part lose themselves in a wild, uncontroll- 
able temper. With the better part, however, this tendency 
unfolds itself into a moral enthusiasm, which occasionally 
moves of its own accord after some actual or seeming good, 
but still oftener suffers itself to be prompted, led, and even 
misled. 

Such was the case with the youth of whom we are at pres- 
ent speaking ; and, if he appeared rather strange to mankind, 
still he seemed welcome to many. At the very first meeting, 
you found in him a freedom from reserve, a cheerful open- 
heartedness in conversation, and in action the unpremeditated 
suggestions of the moment. Of the latter trait a story or two. 

In the close-built Jews' street (Jadengasse) , a violent con- 
flagration had broken out. My universal benevolence, which 
prompted me to lend my active aid to all, led me to the spot, 
full dressed as I was. A passage had been broken through 
from All Saints' Street (Allerheiligengasse) , and thither I 
repaired. I found a great number of men busied with 
carrying water, rushing forward with full buckets, and back 
again with empty ones. I soon saw, that, by forming a lane 
for passing up and down the buckets, the help we rendered 
might be doubled. I seized two full buckets, and remained 
standing, and called others to me : those who came on were 
relieved of their load, while those returning arranged them- 
selves in a row on the other side. The arrangement was 
applauded ; my address and personal sympathy found favor ; 
and the lane, unbroken from its commencement to its burn- 
ing goal, was soon completed. Scarcely, however, had the 
cheerfulness which this inspired called forth a joyous, I 
might even say a merry, humor in this living machine, all of 
whose parts worked well together, when wantonness began 
to appear, and was soon succeeded by a love of mischief. 
The wretched fugitives, dragging off their miserable substance 
upon their backs, if they once got within the lane, must pass 
on without stopping, and, if they ventured to halt for a mo- 
ment's rest, were immediately assailed. Saucy boys would 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 241 

sprinkle them with the water, and even add insult to misery. 
However, by means of gentle words and eloquent reproofs, 
prompted perhaps by a regard to my best clothes, which were 
in danger, I managed to put a stop to their rudeness. 

Some of my friends had from curiosity approached, to gaze 
on the calamity, and seemed astonished to see their com- 
panion, in thin shoes and silk stockings, — for that was then 
the fashion, — engaged in this wet business. But few of them 
could I persuade to join us : the others laughed, and shook 
their heads. We stood our ground, however, a long while ; 
for, if any were tired and went away, there were plenty 
ready to take their places. Many sight-seers, too, came, 
merely for the sake of the spectacle ; and so my innocent 
daring became universally known, and the strange disregard 
of etiquette became the town-talk of the day. 

This readiness to do any action that a good-natured whim 
might prompt, which proceeded from a happy self -conscious- 
ness which men are apt to blame as vanity, made our friend 
to be talked of for other oddities. 

A very inclement winter had completely covered the Main 
with ice, and converted it into a solid floor. The liveliest 
intercourse, both for business and pleasure, was kept up on 
the ice. Boundless skating-paths, and wide, smooth frozen 
plains, swarmed with a moving multitude. I never failed to 
be there early in the morning, and once, being lightly clad, 
was well-nigh frozen by the time my mother arrived, who 
usually came at a later hour to visit the scene. She sat in 
the carriage, in her purple velvet and fur- trimmed cloak, 
which, held together on her breast by a strong golden cord 
and tassel, looked quite fine. " Give me your furs, dear 
mother ! " I cried out on the instant, without a moment's 
thought : " I am terribly frozen." Nor did she stop to think, 
and so in a moment I was wrapped in her cloak. Reaching 
half-way below my knees with its purple color, sable border, 
and gold trimmings, it contrasted not badly with the brown 
fur cap I wore. Thus clad, I carelessly went on skating up 
and down ; the crowd was so great that no especial notice 
was taken of my strange appearance ; still it was not unob- 
served, for often afterwards it was brought up, in jest or in 
earnest, among my other eccentricities. 



Leaving these recollections of happy and spontaneous 
action, we will now resume the sober thread of our narra- 
tive. 



242 TRUTH AND FICTIOX 

A witty Frenchman has said, If a clever man has once 
attracted the attention of the public by any meritorious work, 
every one does his best to prevent his ever doing a similar 
thing again. 

It is even so : something good and spirited is produced in 
the quiet seclusion of youth ; applause is won, but independ- 
ence is lost ; the concentrated talent is pulled about and dis- 
tracted, because people think that they may pluck off and 
appropriate to themselves a portion of the personality. 

It was owing to this that I received a great many invita- 
tions, or, rather, not exactly invitations : a friend, an ac- 
quaintance, would propose, with even more than urgency, to 
introduce me here or there. 

The quasi stranger, now described as a bear on account of 
his frequent surly refusals, and then again like Voltaire's 
Huron, or Cumberland's West Indian, as a child of nature 
in spite of many talents, excited curiosity ; and in various 
families negotiations were set on foot to see him. 

Among others, a friend one evening entreated me to go 
with him to a little concert to be given in the house of an 
eminent merchant of the reformed persuasion. It was already 
late ; but, as I loved to do every thing on the spur of the 
moment, I went with him, decently dressed, as usual. We 
entered a chamber on the ground-floor, — the ordinary but 
spacious sitting-room of the family. The company was 
numerous : a piano stood in the middle, at which the only 
daughter of the house sat down immediately, and played 
with considerable facility and grace. I stood at the lower 
end of the piano, that I might be near enough to observe her 
form and bearing : there was something childlike in her 
manner ; the movements she was obliged to make in playing 
were unconstrained and easy. 

After the sonata was finished, she stepped towards the end 
of the piano to meet me : we merely saluted, however, with- 
out further conversation ; for a quartet had already com- 
menced. At the close of it, I moved somewhat nearer, and 
uttered some civil compliment, telling her what pleasure it 
gave me that my first acquaintance with her should have also 
made me acquainted with her talent. She managed to make 
a very clever reply, and kept her position as I did mine. I 
saw that she observed me closely, and that I was really stand- 
ing for a show ; but I took it all in good part, since I had 
something graceful to look at in my turn. Meanwhile, we 
gazed at one another ; and I will not deny that I was sensible 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 243 

of feeling an attractive power of the gentlest kind. The 
moving about of the company, and her performances, pre- 
vented any farther approach that evening. But I must con- 
fess that I was any thing but displeased, when, on taking 
leave, the mother gave me to understand that they hoped 
soon to see me again ; while the daughter seemed to join in 
the request with some friendliness of manner. I did not 
fail, at suitable intervals, to repeat my visit ; since, on such 
occasions, I was sure of a cheerful and intellectual conver- 
sation, which seemed to prophesy no tie of passion. 

In the mean time, the hospitality of our house once laid 
open caused many an inconvenience to my good parents and 
myself. At any rate, it had not proved in any way beneficial 
to my steadfast desire to notice the Higher, to study it, to 
further it, and, if possible, to imitate it. Men, I saw, so far 
as they were good, were pious, and, so far as they were 
active, were unwise and oftentimes unapt. The former could 
not help me, and the latter only confused me. One remark- 
able case I have carefully written down. 

In the beginning of the year 1775, Jung, afterwards called 
Stilling, from the lower Rhine, announced to us that he was 
coming to Frankfort, being invited as an oculist, to treat an 
important case : the news was welcome to my parents and 
myself, and we offered him quarters. 

Herr von Lersner, a worthy man advanced in years, univer- 
sally esteemed for his success in the education and training 
of princely children, and for his intelligent manners at court 
and on his travels, had been long afflicted with total blind- 
ness : his strong hope of obtaining some relief of his affliction 
was not entirely extinct. Now, for several years past, Jung, 
with skilful boldness and a steady hand, had, in the Lower 
Rhine, successfully couched for the cataract, and thus had 
gained a wide-spread reputation. The candor of his soul, 
his truthfulness of character, and genuine piety, gained him 
universal confidence : this extended up the river through the 
medium of various parties connected by business. Herr von 
Lersner and his friends, upon the advice of an intelligent 
physician, resolved to send for the successful oculist ; although 
a Frankfort merchant, in whose case the cure had failed, 
earnestly endeavored to dissuade them. But what was a 
single failure against so many successful cases ! So Jung 
came, enticed by the hope of a handsome remuneration, 
which heretofore he had been accustomed to renounce ; he 
came, to increase his reputation, full of confidence and in 



244 TRUTH AND FICTION 

high spirits : and we congratulated ourselves on the prospect 
of such an excellent and livery table-companion. 

At last, after a preparatory course of medicine, the cata- 
ract upon both eyes was couched. Expectation was at its 
height. It was said that the patient saw the moment after 
the operation, until the bandage again shut out the light. 
But it was remarked that Jung was not cheerful, and that 
something weighed on his spirits ; indeed, on further inquiry, 
he confessed to me that he was uneasy as to the result of the 
operation. Commonly, for I had witnessed several opera- 
tions of the kind in Strasburg, nothing in the world seemed 
easier than such cases ; and Stilling himself had operated 
successfully a hundred times. After piercing the insensible 
cornea, which gave no pain, the dull lens would, at the 
slightest pressure, spring forward of itself : the patient im- 
mediately discerned objects, and only had to wait with band- 
aged eyes, until the completed cure should allow him to use 
the precious organ at his own will and convenience. How 
many a poor man for whom Jung had procured this happiness, 
had invoked God's blessing and reward upon his benefactor, 
which was now to be realized by means of this wealthy 
patient ! 

Jung confessed to me that this time the operation had 
not gone off so easily and so successfully : the lens had not 
sprung forward ; he had been obliged to draw it out, and 
indeed, as it had grown to the socket, to loosen it ; and this 
he was not able to do without violence. He now reproached 
himself for having operated also on the other eye. But 
Lersner and his friends had firmly resolved to have both 
couched at the same time ; and, when the emergency occurred, 
they did not immediately recover presence of mind enough 
to think what was best. Suffice it to say, the second lens 
also did not spontaneously spring forward, but had to be 
loosened and drawn out with difficulty. 

How much pain our benevolent, good-natured, pious friend 
felt in this case, it is impossible to describe or to unfold : 
some general observations on his state of mind will not be 
out of place here. 

To labor for his own moral culture, is the simplest and 
most practicable thing which man can propose to himself ; 
Che impulse is inborn in him : while in social life both reason 
and love prompt or rather force him to do so. 

Stilling could only live in a moral religious atmosphere of 
love ; without sympathy, without hearty response, he could not 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 245 

exist ; he demanded mutual attachment ; where he was not 
known, he was silent ; where he was only known, not loved, 
he was sad ; accordingly he got on best with those well 
disposed persons who can set themselves down for life in 
their assigned vocation, and go to work to perfect them- 
selves in their narrow but peaceful sphere. 

Such persons succeed pretty well in stifling vanity, in 
renouncing the pursuit of outward power, in acquiring a 
circumspect way of speaking, and in preserving a uniformly 
friendly manner towards companions and neighbors. 

Frequently we may observe in this class traces of a certain 
form of mental character, modified by individual varieties : 
such persons, accidentally excited, attach great weight to the 
course of their experience ; they consider every thing a super- 
natural determination, in the conviction that God interferes 
immediately with the course of the world. 

With all this there is associated a certain disposition to 
abide in his present state, and yet at the same time to allow 
themselves to be pushed or led on, which results from a cer- 
tain indecision to act of themselves. The latter is increased 
by the miscarriage of the wisest plans, as well as by the 
accidental success brought about by the unforeseen concur- 
rence of favorable occurrences. 

Now, since a vigilant, manly character is much checked by 
this way of life, it is well worthy of reflection and inquiry, 
how men are most liable to fall into such a state. 

The things sympathetic persons of this kind love most 
to talk of, are the so-called awakenings and conversions, to 
which we will not deny a certain psychological value. They 
are properly what we call in scientific and poetic matters, an 
" aperqu; " the perception of a great maxim, which is always 
a genius-like operation of the mind : we arrive at it by pure 
intuition ; that is, by reflection, neither by learning nor tradi- 
tion. In the cases before us, it is the perception of the moral 
power, which anchors in faith, and thus feels itself in proud 
security in the midst of the waves. 

Such an apergu gives the discoverer the greatest joy ; 
because, in an original manner, it points to the infinite : it 
requires no length of time to work conviction ; it leaps forth 
whole and complete in a moment : hence the quaint old French 
rhyme, — 

" En peu d'heure 
Dieu labeure." 

Outward occasions often work violently in bringing about 



246 TRUTH AND FICTION 

such conversions, and then people think they see in them 
signs and wonders. 

Love and confidence bound me most heartily to Stilling : 
I had, moreover, exercised a good and happy influence on his 
life ; and it was quite in accordance with his disposition, to 
treasure up in a tender, grateful heart the remembrance of all 
that had ever been done for him : but, in my existing frame 
of mind and pursuits, his society neither benefited nor cheered 
me. I was glad to let every one interpret as he pleased and 
work out the riddle of his days : but this way of ascribing to 
an immediate, divine influence, all the good that after a 
rational manner occurs to us in our chanceful life, seemed 
to me too presumptuous ; and the habit of regarding the 
painful consequences of the hasty acts and omissions of our 
own thoughtlessness or conceit, as a divine chastisement, did 
not at all suit me. I could, therefore, only listen to my good 
friend, but could not give him any very encouraging reply : 
still I readily suffered him, like so many others, to go his 
own way, and defended him since then, as well as before, 
when others, of too worldly a mind, did not hesitate to 
wound his gentle nature. Hence I never allowed to come to 
his ears a roguish remark made by a waggish man who once 
exclaimed quite seriously, " No ! indeed, if I were as intimate 
with God as Jung is, I would never pray to the Most High 
for gold, but for wisdom and good counsel, that I might not 
make so many blunders which cost money, and draw after 
them wretched years of debt." 

In truth, it was no time for such jests. Between hope and 
fear several more days passed away ; with him the latter 
grew, the former waned, and, at last, vanished altogether : 
the eyes of the good patient man had become inflamed, and 
there remained no doubt that the operation had failed. 

The state of mind to which our friend was reduced hereby, 
is not to be described : he was struggling against the deepest 
and worst kind of despair. For what was there now that he 
had not losf ! In the first place, the warm thanks of one 
restored to sight, — the noblest reward which a physician can 
enjoy ; then the confidence of others similarly needing help ; 
then his worldly credit, while the interruption of his peculiar 
practice would reduce his family to a helpless state. In 
short, we played the mournful drama of Job through from 
beginning to end, since the faithful Jung took himself the 
part of the reproving friends. He chose to regard this ca- 
lamity as the punishment of his former faults ; it seemed to 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 247 

him, that, in taking his accidental discovery of an eye-cure as 
a divine call to that business, he had acted wickedly and pro- 
fanely ; he reproached himself for not having thoroughly 
studied this highly important department, instead of lightly 
trusting his cures to good fortune ; what his enemies had said 
of him recurred again to his mind ; he began to doubt 
whether perhaps it was not all true ; and it pained him the 
more deeply when he found, that, in the course of his life, he 
had been guilty of that levity which is so dangerous to pious 
men, and also of presumption and vanity. In such moments 
he lost himself ; and, in whatever light we might endeavor to 
set the matter, we at last elicited from him only the rational 
and necessary conclusion, — that the ways of God are un- 
searchable. 

My unceasing efforts to be cheerful would have been 
more checked by Jung's visit, if I had not, according to my 
usual habit, subjected his state of mind to an earnest friendly 
examination, and explained it after my own fashion. It 
vexed me not a little to see my good mother so poorly 
rewarded for her domestic care and pains-taking ; though she 
did not herself perceive it, with her usual equanimity and 
ever bustling activity. I was most pained for my father. 
On my account he, with a good grace, had enlarged what 
hitherto had been a strictly close and private circle : and at 
table especially, where the presence of strangers attracted 
familiar friends and even passing visitors, he liked to indulge 
in a merry, even paradoxical, conversation, in which I put 
him in good humor, and drew from him many an approved 
smile, by all sorts of dialectic pugilism ; for I had an ungodly 
way of disputing every thing, which, however, I pertinaciously 
kept up in every case so long only as he, who maintained 
the right, was not yet made perfectly ridiculous. During the 
last few weeks, however, this procedure was not to be thought 
of ; for many very happy and most cheering incidents, occa- 
sioned by some successful secondary cures on the part of our 
friend, who had been made so miserable by the failure of his 
principal attempt, did not affect him, much less did they give 
his gloomy mood another turn. 

One incident in particular was most amusing. Among 
Jung's patients there was a blind old Jewish beggar, who had 
come from Isenburg to Frankfort, where, in the extremity 
of wretchedness, he scarcely found a shelter, scarcely the 
meanest food and attendance : nevertheless, his tough Oriental 
nature helped him through, and he w r as in raptures to find 



248 TRUTH AND FICTION 

himself healed perfectly and without the least suffering. 
When asked if the operation pained him, he said, in his 
hyperbolical manner, "If I had a million eyes, I would let 
them all be operated upon, one after the other, for half a 
Kopfstiick." 1 On his departure he acted quite as eccentri- 
cally in the Fahrgasse (or main thoroughfare) : he thanked 
God, and, in good Old-Testament style, praised the Lord, 
and the wondrous man whom he had sent. Shouting this, 
he walked slowly on through the long, busy street towards 
the bridge. Buyers and sellers ran out of the shops, sur- 
prised by this singular exhibition of pious enthusiasm, pas- 
sionately venting itself before all the world ; and he excited 
their sympathy to such a degree, that, without asking any 
thing, he was amply furnished with gifts for his travelling 
expenses. 

This lively incident, however, could hardly be mentioned 
in our circle ; for though the poor wretch, with all his 
domestic misery, in his sandy home beyond the Main, could 
still be counted extremely happy, the man of wealth and 
dignity on this side of the river, for whom we were most inter- 
ested, had missed the priceless relief so confidently expected. 

It was sickening, therefore, to our good Jung to receive 
the thousand guilders, which, being stipulated in any case, 
were honorably paid by the high-minded sufferer. This ready 
money was destined to liquidate, on his return, a portion of 
the debts which added their burden to other sad and unhappy 
circumstances. 

And so he went off inconsolable ; for he could not help 
thinking of his meeting with his care-worn wife, the changed 
manner of her parents, who, as sureties for so many debts 
of this too confiding man, might, however well-wishing, con- 
sider they had made a great mistake in the choice of a part- 
ner for their daughter. In this and that house, from this 
and that window, he could already see the scornful and con- 
temptuous looks of those who, even when he was prospering, 
had wished him no good ; while the thought of a practice 
interrupted by his absence, and likely to be materially dam- 
aged by his failure, troubled him extremely. 

And so we took our leave of him, not without all hope on 
our parts ; for his strong nature, sustained by faith in super- 
natural aid, could not but inspire his friends with a quiet and 
moderate confidence. ♦ 

1 A coin, with the nead of the sovereign stamped upon it, generally worth 4| good 
groschen. — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 249 



SEVENTEENTH BOOK. 

In resuming the history of my relation to Lilli, I have to 
mention the many very pleasant hours I spent in her society, 
partly in the presence of her mother, partly alone with her. 
On the strength of my writings, people gave me credit for 
knowledge of the human heart, as it was then called ; and 
in this view our conversations were morally interesting in 
every way. 

But how could we talk of such inward matters without 
coming to mutual disclosures? It was not long before, in 
a quiet hour, Lilli told me the history of her youth. She had 
grown up in the enjoyment of all the advantages of society 
and worldly comforts. She described to me her brothers, her 
relations, and all her nearest connections ; only her mother 
was kept in a respectful obscurity. 

Little weaknesses, too, were thought of ; and among them 
she could not deny, that she had often remarked in herself a 
certain gift of attracting others, with which, at the same 
time, was united a certain peculiarity of letting them go 
again. By prattling on, we thus came at last to the important 
point, that she had exercised this gift upon me too, but had 
been punished for it, since she had been attracted by me also. 

These confessions flowed forth from so pure and childlike a 
nature, that by them she made me entirely her own. 

We were now necessary to each other, we had grown 
into the habit of seeing each other ; but how many a day, 
how many an evening till far into the night, should I have 
had to den}' myself her company, if I had not reconciled 
myself to seeing her in her own circles ! This was a source 
of manifold pain to me. 

My relation to her was that of a character to a character — 
I looked upon her as, to a beautiful, amiable, highly accom- 
plished daughter : it was like my earlier attachments, but 
was of a still higher kind. Of outward circumstances, how- 
ever, of the interchange of social relations, I had never 
thought. An irresistible longing reigned in me ; I could not 
be without her, nor she without me ; but from the circle which 
surrounded her, and through the interference of its individual 
members, how many daj^s were spoiled, how many hours 
wasted. 

The history of pleasure-parties which ended in dis-pleasure ; 
a retarding brother, whom I was to accompany, who would, 



250 TRUTH AND FICTION 

however, always be stopping to do some business or other, 
which, perhaps, somewhat maliciously, he was in no hurry to 
finish, and would thereby spoil the whole well-concerted plan 
for a meeting ; and ever so much more of accident and disap- 
pointment, of impatience and privation, — all these little 
troubles, which, circumstantially set forth in a romance, 
would certainly find sympathizing readers, I must here omit. 
However, to bring this merely contemplative account nearer 
to a living experience to a youthful sympathy, I may insert 
some songs, which are indeed well known, -but are perhaps 
especially impressive in this place. 

Heart, my heart, oh, what hath changed thee ? 

What doth weigh on thee so sore ? 
What hath thus from me estranged thee, 

That I know thee now no more ? 
Gone is all which once seemed dearest, 
Gone the care which once was nearest, 

Gone thy toils and tranquil bliss : 

Ah ! how couldst thou come to this ? 

Does that bloom so fresh and youthful, 

That divine and lovely form, 
That sweet look, so good and truthful, 

Bind thee with unbounded charm ? 
If I swear no more to see her, 
If I man myself to flee her, 

Soon I find my efforts vain: 
• Back to her I'm led again. 

She with magic thread has bound me, 

That defies my strength or skill : 
She has drawn a circle round me, 

Holds me fast against my will. 
Cruel maid, her charms enslave me: 
I must live as she would have me. 



Ah ! how great the change to me ! 
Love! when wilt thou set me free? 



— Editor's Version* 



Why dost draw me thus without resistance 

To that splendor bright ? 
Was not glad and happy my existence 

In the dreary night ? 

Secretly shut up within my chamber, 

I in moonshine lay: 
In the showers of its light, sweet slumber 

Over me did sway. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 251 

There I of rich golden hours was dreaming, 

Of joy unalloyed : 
Thy dear image with full beauty beaming 

In my breast I spied. 

Is't still I, whom thou oft at card -table 

Hold'st 'midst many lights, 
Seatest, as I scarce to bear ain able, 

Opposite such frights ? 

Not more charming now to me spring's gladness 

Is, when blossoms start: 
Where thou, angel, art, is love and goodness; 

Nature where thou art. 

— Editor's Version, 

Whoever reads these songs attentively to himself, or, better 
still, sings them with feeling, will certainly feel a breath of 
the fulness of those happy hours stealing over him. 

But we will not take leave of that greater and more bril- 
liant society, without adding some further remarks, especially 
to explain the close of the second poem. 

She, whom I was accustomed to see only in a simple dress 
which was seldom changed, now stood before me on such 
occasions in all the splendor of elegant fashion ; and still she 
was the same. Her usual grace and kindliness of manner 
remained, only I should say her gift of attracting shone more 
conspicuous, — perhaps, because brought into contact with 
several persons, she seemed called upon to express herself 
with more animation, and to exhibit herself on more sides, 
as various characters approached her. At any rate, I could 
not deny, on the one hand, that these strangers were anno} 7 - 
ing to me ; while, on the other, I would not for a great deal 
have deprived myself of the pleasure of witnessing her talents 
for society, and of seeing that she was made for a wider and 
more general sphere. 

Though covered with ornaments, it was still the same 
bosom that had opened to me its inmost secrets, and into 
which I could look as clearly as into my own : they were still 
the same lips that had so lately described to me the state of 
things amidst which she had grown up, and had spent her 
early years. Every look that we interchanged, every accom- 
panying smile, bespoke a noble feeling of mutual intelligence ; 
and I was myself astonished, here in the crowd, at the secret 
innocent understanding which existed between us in the most 
human, the most natural, way. 



252 TRUTH AND FICTION 

But, with returning spring, the pleasant freedom of the 
country was to knit still closer these relations. Offenbach-on- 
the-Main showed even then the considerable beginnings of a 
promising city. Beautiful, and for the times splendid, build- 
ings, were already conspicuous. Of these Uncle Bernard 
(to call him by his familiar title) inhabited the largest ; ex- 
tensive factories were adjoining ; D'Orville, a lively young 
man of amiable qualities, lived opposite. Contiguous gardens 
and terraces, reaching down to the Main, and affording a free 
egress in every direction into the lovely surrounding scenery, 
put both visitors and residents in excellent humor. The lover 
could not find a more desirable spot for indulging his feelings. 

I lived at the house of John Andre ; and as I have here to 
mention this man, who afterwards made himself well enough 
known, I must indulge in a short digression, in order to give 
some idea of the state of the opera at that time. 

In Frankfort, Marchand was director of the theatre, and 
exerted himself in his own person to do all that was possible. 
In his best years he had been a fine, large, well-made man ; 
the easy and gentle qualities appeared to predominate in his 
character ; his presence on the stage, therefore, was agreeable 
enough. He had, perhaps, as much voice as was required 
for the execution of any of the musical works of that da}' : 
accordingly he endeavored to adapt to our stage the large 
and smaller. French operas. 

The part of the father in Gretry's opera of " Beauty and 
the Beast" particularly suited him, and his acting was quite 
expressive in the scene of the Vision which was contrived at 
the back of the stage. 

This opera, successful in its way, approached, however, 
the lofty style, and was calculated to excite the tenderest 
feelings. On the other hand, a demon of realism had got 
possession of the opera-house : operas founded upon differ- 
ent crafts and classes were brought out. " The Huntsmen," 
u The Coopers," and I know not what else, were produced : 
Andre chose " The Potter." He had written the words 
himself, and, upon that part of the text which belonged to 
him, had lavished his whole musical talent. 

I was lodging with him, and will only say so much as 
occasion demands of this ever ready poet and composer. 

He was a man of an innate lively talent, and was settled 
at Offenbach, where he properly carried on a mechanical 
business and manufacture : he floated between the chapel- 
master (or Precentor) and the dilettante. In the hope of 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 253 

meriting the former title, he toiled very earnestly to gain a 
thorough knowledge of the science of music : in the latter 
character he was inclined to repeat his own compositions 
Without end. 

Among the persons who at this time were most active in 
filling and enlivening our circle, the pastor Ewald must be 
first named. In society an intellectual, agreeable companion, 
he still carried on in private quietly and diligently the stud- 
ies of his profession, and in fact afterwards honorably dis- 
tinguished himself in the province of theology. Ewald, in 
short, was an indispensable member of our circle, being 
quick alike of comprehension and reply. 

Lilli's pianoforte-playing completely fettered our good 
Andre to our societ}^ : what with instructing, conducting, and 
executing, there were few hours of the day or night in which 
he was not either in the family circle or at our social parties. 

Burger's u Leonore," then but just published, and received 
with enthusiasm by the Germans, had been set to music by 
him : this piece he was always forward to execute, however 
often it might be encored. 

I too, who was in the habit of repeating pieces of poetry 
with animation, was always ready to recite it. Our friends 
at this time did not get weary of the constant repetition of 
the same thing. When the company had their choice which of 
us they would rather hear, the decision was often in my favor. 

All this (however it might be) served to prolong the inter- 
course of the lovers. They knew no bounds ; and, between 
them both, they easily managed to keep the good John Andre 
continually in motion, that, by repetitions, he might make 
his music last till midnight. The two lovers thus secured 
for themselves a precious and indispensable opportunity. 

If we walked out early in the morning, we found ourselves 
in the freshest air, but not precisely in the country. Impos- 
ing buildings, which at that time would have done honor to a 
city ; gardens, spreading before us and easily overlooked, with 
their smooth flower and ornamental beds ; a clear prospect 
commanding the opposite banks of the river, over whose sur- 
face, even at an early hour, might be seen floating a busy line 
of rafts or nimble market-skiffs and boats, — these together 
formed a gently gliding, living world, in harmony with love's 
tender feelings. Even the lonely rippling of the waves and 
rustling of the reeds in a softly flowing stream was highly 
refreshing, and never failed to throw a decidedly tranquilliz- 
ing spell over those who approached the spot. A clear sky 



254 TRUTH AND FICTION 

of the finest season of the }^ear overarched the whole ; and 
most pleasant was it to renew morning after morning her 
dear society, in the midst of such scenes. 

Should such a mode of life seem too irregular, too trivial, 
to the earnest reader, let him consider, that, between what is 
here brought closely together for the sake of a convenient 
order, there intervened whole days and weeks of renunciation, 
other engagements and occupations, and indeed an insupport- 
able tedium. 

Men and women were busily engaged in their spheres of 
duty. I too, out of regard for the present and the future, 
delayed not to attend to all my obligations ; and I found 
time enough to finish that to which my talent and my passion 
irresistibly impelled me. 

The earliest hours of the morning I devoted to poetry : the 
middle of the day was assigned to worldly business, which 
was handled in a manner quite peculiar. My father, a thor- 
ough and indeed finished jurist, managed himself such busi- 
ness as arose from the care of his own property, and a 
connection with highly valued friends : for, although his char- 
acter as Imperial Councillor did not allow him to practise, 
he was at hand as legal adviser to many a friend ; while the 
papers he had prepared w r ere signed by a regular advocate, 
who received a consideration for every such signature. 

This activity of his had now become more lively since 
m\^ return ; and I could easily remark, that he prized my 
talent higher than my practice, and on that account did what 
he could to leave me time for my poetical studies and pro- 
ductions Sound and thoroughly apt, but slow of conception 
and execution, he studied the papers as private Referenda- 
rius; and, when we came together, he would state the case, 
and left me to work it out, in which I showed so much readi- 
ness, that he felt a father's purest joy, and once could not 
refrain from declaring, "that, if I were not of his own 
blood, he should envy me." 

To lighten our work we had engaged a scribe, whose char- 
acter and individuality, well worked out, would have helped 
to adorn a romance. After his school-years, which had been 
profitably spent, and in which he had become fully master 
of Latin, and acquired some other useful branches of knowl- 
edge, a dissipated academic life had brought trouble on the 
remainder of his days. He, for a time, dragged on a 
wretched existence in sickness and in poverty, till at last he 
contrived to improve his circumstances by the aid of a fine 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 255 

handwriting and a readiness at accounts. Employed by 
some advocates, he gradually acquired an accurate knowl- 
edge of the formalities of legal business, and by his faith- 
fulness and punctuality made every one he served his patron. 
He had been frequently employed by our family, and was 
always at hand in matters of law and account. 

He also was a useful assistant in our continually increas- 
ing business, which consisted, not only of law matters, but 
also of various sorts of commissions, orders, and transit 
agencies. In the city-hall he knew all the passages and 
windings ; in his way, he was in tolerable favor at both bur- 
gomasters' audiences ; and since from his first entrance into 
office, and even during the times of his equivocal behavior, 
he had been well acquainted with many of the new senators, 
some of whom had quickly risen to the dignity of Schoffen, 
he had acquired a certain confidence, which might be called 
a sort of influence. All this he knew how to turn to the 
advantage of his patrons ; and, since the state of his health 
forced him to limit his application to writing, he was always 
found ready to execute every commission or order with care. 

His presence was not disagreeable ; he was slender in per- 
son and of regular features ; his manner was unobtrusive, 
though a certain expression betrayed his conviction that he 
knew all what was necessary to be done ; moreover, he was 
cheerful and dexterous in clearing away difficulties. He 
must have been full forty, and (to say the same thing over 
again) I regret that I have never introduced him as the 
mainspring in the machinery of some novel. 

Hoping that my more serious readers are now somewhat 
satisfied by what I have just related, I will venture to turn 
again to that bright point of time when love and friendship 
shone in their fairest lioht. 

It was in the nature of such social circles that all birth- 
days should be carefully celebrated with every variety of 
rejoicing ; it was in honor of the birthday of the pastor 
Ewald that the following song was written : — 

In every hQiir of pleasure, 

Enhanced by love and wine, 
To sing this song's gay measure, 

Let ever us combine. 
The god holds us united, 

Who hither brought us, who 
Our flames he erst ignited, 

Now lighteth up anew. 

— Editor's Version. 



256 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Since this song has been preserved until this day, and 
there is scarcely a merry party at which it is not joyfully 
revived, we commend it also to all that shall come after us ; 
and to all who sing it or recite it we wish the same delight 
and inward satisfaction which we then had, when we had no 
thought of any wider world, but felt ourselves a world to 
ourselves in that narrow circle. 

It will, of course, be expected that Lilli's birthday, which, 
on the 23d June, 1775, returned for the seventeenth time, 
was to be celebrated with especial honors. She had prom- 
ised to come to Offenbach at noon ; and I must observe that 
our friends, with a happy unanimity, had laid aside all cus- 
tomary compliments at this festival, and had prepared for her 
reception and entertainment nothing but such heartfelt to- 
kens as were worthy of her. 

Busied with such pleasant duties, I saw the sun go down, 
announcing a bright day to follow, and promising its glad, 
beaming presence at our feast, when Lilli's brother, George, 
who knew not how to dissemble, came somewhat rudely into 
the chamber, and, without sparing our feelings, gave us to 
understand that to-morrow's intended festival was put off ; 
he himself could not tell how or why, but his sister had bid 
him say that it would be wholly impossible for her to come 
to Offenbach at noon that day, and take part in the intended 
festival ; she had no hope of arriving before evening. She 
knew and felt most sensibly how vexatious and disagreeable 
it must be to me and all her friends, but she begged me very 
earnestly to invent some expedient which might soften and 
perhaps do away the unpleasant effects of this news, which 
she left it to me to announce. If I could, she would give 
me her warmest thanks. 

I was silent for a moment ; but I quickly recovered myself, 
and, as if by heavenly inspiration, saw what was to be done. 
4t Make haste, George ! " I cried, " tell her to make herself 
easy, and do her best to come towards evening : I promise 
that this very disappointment shall be turned into a cause of 
rejoicing !' ' The boy was curious, and wanted to know 
how. I refused to gratify his curioshVv, notwithstanding 
that he called to his aid all the arts and all the influence 
which a brother of our beloved can presume to exercise. 

No sooner had he gone, than I walked up and down in my 
chamber with a singular self-satisfaction ; and, with the glad, 
free feeling that here was a brilliant opportunity of proving 
myself her devoted servant, I stitched together several sheets 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 257 

of paper with beautiful silk, as suited alone such an occa- 
sional poem, and hastened to write down the title : — 

"She is not Coming! 

"A Mournful Family Piece, which, by the sore visitation of 
Divine Providence, will be represented in the most natural manner 
on the 23d of June, 1775, at Offenbach-on-tlie-Main. The action 
lasts from morning until evening." 

I have not by me either the original or a copy of this jeu 
d f esprit; I have often inquired after one, but have never 
been able to get a trace of it ; I must therefore compose it 
anew, a thing which, in the general way, is not difficult. 

The scene is at D'Orville's house and garden in Offenbach : 
the action opens with the domestics, of whom each one plays 
his special part ; and evident preparations for a festival are 
being made. The children, drawn to the life, run in and out 
among them ; the master appears, and the mistress, actively 
discharging her appropriate functions ; then, in the midst of 
the hurry and bustle of active preparation, comes in neighbor 
Hans Andre, the indefatigable composer ; he seats himself 
at the piano, and calls them all together to hear him try his 
new song, which he has just finished for the festival. He 
gathers round him the whole house, but all soon disperse 
again to attend to pressing duties ; one is called away by 
another, this person wants the help of that ; at last, the 
arrival of the gardener draws attention to the preparations 
in the grounds and on the water ; wreaths, banners with 
ornamental inscriptions, in short, nothing is forgotten. 

While they are all assembled around the most attractive 
objects, in steps a messenger, who, as a sort of humorous 
go-between, was also entitled to play his part, and who, 
although he has had plenty of drink-money, could still pretty 
shrewdly guess what was the state of the case. He sets 
a high value on his packet, demands a glass of wine and a 
wheaten roll, and after some roguish hesitation hands over 
his despatches. The master of the house lets his arms drop, 
the papers fall to the floor : he calls out, " Let me go to the 
table ! let me go to the bureau, that I may brush." 

The spirited intercourse of vivacious persons is chiefly 
distinguished by a certain symbolical st} r le of speech and 
gesture. A sort of conventional idiom arises, which, while 
it makes the initiated very happy, is unobserved by the 
stranger, or, if observed, is disagreeable. 

Among Lilli's most pleasing particularities was the one 



258 TRUTH AND FICTION 

which is here expressed by the word brushing, and which 
manifested itself whenever any thing disagreeable was said 
or told, especially when she sat at table, or was near any flat 
surface. 

It had its origin in a most fascinating but odd expedient, 
which she once had recourse to when a stranger, sitting near 
her at table, uttered something unseemly. Without altering 
her mild countenance, she brushed with her right hand, most 
prettily, across the table-cloth, and deliberately pushed off 
on to the floor every thing she reached with this gentle 
motion. I know not what did not fall, — knives, forks, 
bread, saltcellar, and also something belonging to her neigh- 
bor ; every one was startled ; the servants ran up ; and no 
one knew what it all meant, except the observing ones, who 
were delighted that she had rebuked and checked an impro- 
priety in so pretty a manner. 

Here now was a symbol found to express the repulsion of 
any thing disagreeable, which still is frequently made use 
of in clever, hearty, estimable, well-meaning, and not thor- 
oughly polished, society. We all adopted the motion of the 
right hand as a sign of reprobation : the actual brushing 
away of objects was a thing which afterwards she herself 
indulged in only moderately and with good taste. 

When, therefore, the poet gives to the master of the house, 
as a piece of dumb show, this desire for brushing (a habit 
which had become with us a second nature) , the meaning 
and effect of the action and its tendency are at once appar- 
ent ; for, while he threatens to sweep every thing from all 
flat surfaces, everybody tries to hinder him and to pacify 
him, till finally he throws himself exhausted on a seat. 

64 What has happened? " all exclaimed. u Is she sick? Is 
any one dead? " — " Read ! read ! " cries D'Orville : " there 
it lies on the ground." The despatch is picked up: they 
read it, and exclaim, " She is not coming ! " 

The great terror had prepared them for a greater ; but 
she was well — nothing had happened to her ! no one of the 
family was hurt : hope pointed still to the evening. 

Andre, who in the mean while had kept on with his music, 
came running up at last, consoling, and seeking consolation. 
Pastor Ewald and his wife likewise came in quite character- 
istically, disappointed and yet reasonable, sorry for the 
disappointment, and yet quietly accepting all for the best. 
Every thing now is at sixes and sevens, until the calm and 
exemplary uncle Bernard finally approaches, expecting a 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 259 

good breakfast and a comfortable dinner ; and he is the only 
one who sees the matter from the right point of view. He, 
by reasonable speeches, sets all to rights, just as in the 
Greek tragedy a god manages with a few words to clear up 
the perplexities of the greatest heroes. 

All this I had dashed off u currente calamo" through a 
part of the night, and given to a messenger with instructions 
to deliver it in Offenbach the next morning precisely at ten 
o'clock. 

Next day when I awoke, it was one of the brightest morn- 
ings possible ; and I set off just in time to arrive at Offen- 
bach, as I purposed, precisely at noon. 

I was received with the strangest charivari of salutations ; 
the interrupted feast was scarcely mentioned ; they scolded 
and rated me, because I had taken them off so well. The 
domestics were contented with being introduced on the same 
stage with their superiors : only the children, those most 
decided and indomitable realists, obstinately insisted that 
they had not talked so and so, that every thing in fact went 
quite differently from the way in which it there stood written. 
I appeased them by some foretastes of the supper- table, and 
they loved me as much as ever. A cheerful dinner-party, 
with some though not all of our intended festivities, put us 
in the mood of receiving Lilli with less splendor, but perhaps 
the more affectionately. She came, and was welcomed by 
cheerful, nay, merry, faces, surprised to find that her staying 
away had not marred all our cheerfulness. They told her 
every thing, they laid the whole thing before her; and she, 
in her dear, sweet way, thanked me as only she could thank. 

It required no remarkable acuteness to perceive that her 
absence from the festival held in her honor was not acciden- 
tal, but had been caused by gossiping about the intimac}' 
between us. However, this had not the slightest influence, 
either on our sentiments or our behavior. 

At this season of the year there never failed to be a varied 
throng of visitors from the city. Frequently I did not join 
the company until late in the evening, when I found her 
apparently sympathizing ; and, since I commonly appeared 
onl}^ for a few hours, I was glad of an opportunity to be 
useful to her in any way, by attending to or undertaking 
some commission, whether trifling or not, in her behalf. 
And, indeed, this service is probably the most delightful a 
man can enter upon, as the old romances of chivalry contrive 
how to intimate in their obscure but powerful manner. 



260 TRUTH AND FICTION 

That she ruled over me, was not to be concealed, and in this 
pride she might well indulge ; for in this contest the victor 
and the vanquished both triumph, and enjoy an equal glory. 

This my repeated, though often brief, co-operation, was 
always so much the more effective. John Andre had always 
store of music ; I contributed new pieces, either by others 
or myself ; so that poetical and musical blossoms showered 
down upon us. It was altogether a brilliant time : a certain 
excitement reigned in the company, and there were no insipid 
moments. Without further question, it seemed to be com- 
municated to all the rest. For, where inclination and pas- 
sion come out in their own bold nature, they encourage timid 
souls, w T ho cannot comprehend why they should suppress 
their equally valid rights. Hence relations, w T hich hitherto 
were more or less concealed, were now seen to intertwine 
themselves without reserve ; while others, which did not con- 
fess themselves so openly, still glided on agreeably in the 
shade. 

If, because of my multifarious avocations, I could not pass 
whole days out of doors with her, yet the clear evenings gave 
us opportunity for prolonged meetings in the open air. Lov- 
ing souls will be pleased to read the following event. 

Ours was a condition of which it is written, " I sleep, but 
my heart wakes ; ' ' the bright and the dark hours were alike ; 
the light of the day could not outshine the light of love, and 
the night w T as made as the brightest day by the radiance of 
passion. 

One clear starlight evening we had been walking about in 
the open country till it was quite late ; and after I had seen 
her and her friends home to their several doors, and finally 
had taken leave of her, I felt so little inclined to sleep, that 
I did not hesitate to set off on another ramble. I took the 
high-road to Frankfort, giving myself up to my thoughts and 
hopes : here I seated myself on a bench, in the purest still- 
ness of night, under the gleaming starry heavens, that I 
might belong only to myself and her. 

My attention was attracted by a sound quite near me, 
which I could not explain ; it was not a rattling nor a rus- 
tling noise ; and on closer observation I discovered that it was 
under the ground, and caused by the working of some little 
animal. It might be a hedge-hog or a weasel, or whatever 
creature labors in that way at such hours. 

Having set off again towards the city, and got near to 
the Roderberg, I recognized, by their chalk- white gleam, the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 261 

steps which lead up to the vineyards. I ascended them, sat 
down, and fell asleep. 

When I awoke, dawn had already spread ; and I found my- 
self opposite the high wall, which in earlier times had been 
erected to defend the heights on this side. Saxenhausen lay 
before me, light mists marked out the course of the river : it 
was cool, and to me most welcome. 

There I waited till the sun, rising gradually behind me, 
lighted up the opposite landscape. It was the spot where I 
was again to see my beloved, and I returned slowly back to 
the paradise which surrounded her yet sleeping. 

On account of my increasing circle of business, which, 
from love to her, I was anxious to extend and to establish, 
my visits to Offenbach became more rare, and hence arose 
a somewhat painful predicament ; so that it might well be 
remarked, that, for the sake of the future, one postpones 
and loses the present. 

As my prospects were now gradually improving, I took 
them to be more promising than they really were ; and I 
thought the more about coming to a speedy explanation, 
since so public an intimacy could not go on much longer 
without misconstruction. And, as is usual in such cases, 
we did not expressly say it to one another ; but the feeling 
of being mutually pleased in every way, the full conviction 
that a separation was impossible, the confidence reposed in 
one another, — all this produced such a seriousness, that I, 
who had firmly resolved never again to get involved in any 
troublesome connection of the kind, and who found myself, 
nevertheless, entangled in this, without the certainty of a 
favorable result, was actually beset with a heaviness of mind, 
to get rid of which I plunged more and more in indifferent 
worldly affairs, from which, apart from my beloved, I had no 
care to derive either profit or pleasure. 

In this strange situation, the like of which many, no doubt, 
have with pain experienced, there came to our aid a friend 
of the family, who saw through characters and situations 
very clearly. She was called Mademoiselle Delf : she pre- 
sided with her elder sister over a little business in Heidel- 
berg, and on several occasions had received many favors 
from the greater Frankfort cqmmission-house. She had 
known and loved Lilli from her youth : she was quite a pe- 
culiar person, of an earnest, masculine look, and with an 
even, firm, hasty step. She had had peculiar reason to adapt 

herself to the world ; and hence she understood it, in a cer- 

Goethe— 9 Vol 2 



262 TRUTH AND FICTION 

tain sense at least. She could not be called intriguing ; she 
was accustomed to consider distant contingencies, and to 
carry out her plans in silence : but then, she had the gift of 
seeing an opportunity ; and, if she found people wavering 
betwixt doubt and resolution at the moment when every 
thing depended upon decision, she skilfully contrived to 
infuse into their minds such a force of character, that she 
seldom failed to accomplish her purpose. Properly speak- 
ing, she had no selfish ends : to have done any thing, to have 
completed any thing, especially to have brought about a 
marriage, was reward enough for her. She had long since 
seen through our position, and, in repeated visits, had care- 
fully observed the state of affairs, so that she had finally con- 
vinced herself that the attachment must be favored ; that 
our plans, honestly but not very skilfully taken in hand and 
prosecuted, must be promoted, and that this little romance 
be brought to a close as speedily as possible. 

For many years she had enjoyed the confidence of Lilli's 
mother. Introduced by me to my parents, she had managed 
to make herself agreeable to them ; for her rough sort of 
manner is seldom offensive in an imperial city, and, backed 
by cleverness and tact, is even welcome. She knew very well 
our wishes and our hopes ; her love of meddling made her 
see in all this a call upon her good offices ; in short, she had 
a conversation with our parents. How she commenced it, 
how she put aside the difficulties which must have stood in 
her way, I know not ; but she came to us one evening, and 
brought the consent. " Take each other by the hand!'' 
cried she, in her pathetic yet commanding manner. I stood 
opposite to Lilli, and offered her my hand : she, not indeed 
hesitatingly, but still slowly, placed hers in it. After a long 
and deep breath, we fell with lively emotion into each other's 
arms. 

It was a strange decree of the overruling Providence, that, 
in the course of my singular history, I should also have ex- 
perienced the feelings of one who is betrothed. 

I may venture to assert, that, for a truly moral man, it is 
the most agreeable of all recollections. It is pleasant to re- 
call those feelings, which are with difficulty expressed and 
are hardly to be explained. For him the state of things is all 
at once changed ; the sharpest oppositions are removed, the 
most inveterate differences are adjusted ; prompting nature, 
ever- warning reason, the tyrannizing impulses, and the 
sober law, which before kept up a perpetual strife within us, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 263 

all are now reconciled in friendly unity ; and at the festival, 
so universally celebrated with solemn rites, that which was 
forbidden is commanded, and that which was penal is raised 
to an inviolable duty. 

The reader will learn with moral approval, that, from this 
time forward, a certain change took place in me. If my 
beloved had hitherto been looked upon as beautiful, grace- 
ful, and attractive, now she appeared to me a being of 
superior worth and excellence. She was, as it were, a 
double person : her grace and loveliness belonged to me, — 
that I felt as formerly ; but the dignity of her character, her 
self-reliance, her confidence in all persons, remained her own. 
I beheld it, I looked through it, I was delighted with it as 
with a capital of which I should enjoy the interest as long 
as I lived. 

There is depth and significance in the old remark, on the 
summit of fortune one abides not long. The consent of 
the parties on both sides, so gained in such a peculiar man- 
ner by Demoiselle Delf , was now ratified silently and without 
further formality. But as soon as we believe the matter to 
be all settled — as soon as the ideal, as we may well call it, 
of a betrothal is over, and it begins to pass into the actual, 
and to enter soberly into facts, then too often comes a crisis. 
The outward world is utterly unmerciful, and it has reason ; 
for it must maintain its authority at all costs : the confidence 
of passion is very great, and we see it too often wrecked 
upon the rocks of opposing realities. A young married 
couple who enter upon life unprovided with sufficient means, 
can promise themselves no honeymoon, especially in these 
latter times : the world immediately presses upon them with 
incompatible demands, which, if not satisfied, make the 
young couple appear ridiculous. 

Of the insufficiency of the means which, for the attainment 
of my end, I had anxiously scraped together, I could not 
before be aware, because they had held out up to a certain 
point ; but, now the end was drawing nearer, I saw that mat- 
ters were not quite what they ought to be. 

The fallacy, which passion finds so convenient, was now 
exposed in all its inconsistency. My house, my domestic 
circumstances, had to be considered in all their details, with 
some soberness. The consciousness that his house would 
one day contain a daughter-in-law, lay indeed at the bottom 
of my father's design ; but then, what sort of a lady did he 
contemplate ? 



264 TRUTH AND FICTION 

At the end of our third part, the reader made the acquaint- 
ance of the gentle, dear, intelligent, beautiful, and talented 
maiden, so always like herself, so affectionate, and yet so 
free from passion : she was a fitting key-stone to the arch 
already built and curved. But here, upon calm, unbiassed 
consideration, it could not be denied, that, in order to estab- 
lish the newly acquired treasure in such a function, a new 
arch would have to be built ! 

However, this had not yet become clear to me ; and still 
less was it so to her mind. But now, when I tried to fancy 
myself bringing her to my home, she did not seem somehow 
to suit it exactly. It appeared to me something like what I 
had myself experienced, when I first joined her social circle : 
in order to give no offence to the fashionable people I met 
there, I found it necessary to make a great change in my 
style of dress. But this could not be so easily done with the 
domestic arrangement of a stately burgher's house, which, 
rebuilt in the olden style, had, with its antique ornaments, 
given an old-fashioned character to the habits of its inmates. 

Moreover, even after our parents' consent had been 
gained, it had not been possible to establish friendly rela- 
tions or intercourse between our respective families. Differ- 
ent religious opinions produced different manners ; and, if the 
amiable girl had wished to continue in any way her former 
mode of life, it would have found neither opportunity nor 
place in our moderate-sized house. 

If I had never thought of all this until now, it was be- 
cause I had been quieted by the opening of fine prospects 
from without, and the hope of getting some valuable appoint- 
ment. An active spirit gets a footing everywhere ; capaci- 
ties, talents, create confidence ; every one thinks that a 
change of management is all that is needed. The earnest- 
ness of youth finds favor : genius is trusted for every thing, 
though its power is only of a certain kind. 

The intellectual and literary domain of Germany was at 
that time regarded as but newly broken ground. Among the 
business people there were prudent men, who desired skilful 
cultivators and prudent managers for the fields about to be 
turned up. Even the respectable and well-established Free- 
Mason's lodge, with the most distinguished members of which 
I had become acquainted through my intimacy with Lilli, 
contrived in a suitable manner to get me introduced to them j 
but I, from a feeling of independence, which afterwards 
appeared to me madness, declined all closer connection with 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 265 

them, not perceiving that these men, though already bound 
together in a higher sense, would yet do much to further my 
own ends, so nearly related to theirs. 

I return to more personal matters. 

In such cities as Frankfort, men often hold several situfa- 
tions together, such as residentships and agencies, the num- 
ber of which may by diligence be indefinitely increased. 
Something of this sort now occurred to me, and at first sight 
it seemed both advantageous and honorable. It was assumed 
that I should suit the place ; and it would, under the condi- 
tions, certainly have succeeded, if it could have commanded 
the co-operation of the Chancery triad already described. 
We thus suppress our doubts ; we dwell only on what is favor- 
able ; by powerful activity we overcome all wavering, whence 
there results a something untrue in our position, without the 
force of passion being in the least subdued. 

In times of peace there is no more interesting reading for 
the multitude than the public papers, which furnish early 
information of the latest doings in the world. The quiet, 
opulent citizen exercises thus in an innocent way a party 
spirit, which, in our finite nature, we neither can nor should 
get rid of. Every comfortable person thus gets up a facti- 
tious interest, like that which is often felt in a bet, experi- 
ences an unreal gain or loss, and, as in the theatre, feels a 
very lively, though imaginary, sympathy in the good or evil 
fortune of others. This sympathy seems often arbitrary, but 
it rests on moral grounds. For now we give to praiseworthy 
designs the applause they deserve ; and now again, carried 
away by brilliant successes, we turn to those whose plans 
we should otherwise have blamed. For all this there was 
abundant material in those times. 

Frederick the Second, resting on his victories, seemed to 
hold in his hand the fate of Europe and of the world : 
Catherine, a great woman, who had proved herself every way 
worthy of a throne, afforded ample sphere of action to able 
and highly gifted men, in extending the dominion of their 
empress ; and as this was done at the expense of the Turks, 
whom we are in the habit of richly repaying for the contempt 
with which they look down upon us, it seemed as if it was 
no sacrifice of human life, when these infidels were slain by 
thousands. The burning of the fleet in the harbor of Tschesme 
caused a universal jubilee throughout the civilized world ; and 
every one shared the exultation of a victory when, in order 
to preserve a faithful picture of that great event, a ship-of- 



266 TRUTH AND FICTION 

war was actually blown up on the roads of Livorno, before 
the studio of an artist. Not long after this, a young north- 
ern king, to establish his own authority, seized the reins of 
government out of the hands of an oligarchy. The aristo- 
crats he overthrew were not lamented, for aristocracy finds 
no favor with the public, since it is in its nature to work in 
silence, and it is the more secure the less talk it creates about 
itself ; and in this case the people thought all the better of 
the young king, since, in order to balance the enmity of the 
higher ranks, he was obliged to favor the lower, and to con- 
ciliate their good will. 

The lively interest of the world was still more excited 
when a whole people prepared to effect their independence. 
Already had it witnessed a welcome spectacle of the same 
effort on a small scale : Corsica had long been the point to 
which all eyes were directed ; Paoli, when, despairing of ever 
being able to carry out his patriotic designs, he passed 
through Germany to England, attracted and won all hearts ; 
he was a fine man, slender, fair, full of grace and friendli- 
ness. I saw him in the house of Bethmann, where he stopped 
a short time, and received with cheerful cordiality the curious 
visitors who thronged to see him. But now similar events 
were to be repeated in a remote quarter of the globe : we 
wished the Americans all success ; and the names of Franklin 
and Washington began to shine and sparkle in the firmament 
of politics and war. Much had been accomplished to improve 
the condition of humanity ; and now, when in France, a new 
and benevolent sovereign evinced the best intentions of devot- 
ing himself to the removal of so many abuses, and to the 
noblest ends, — of introducing a regular and efficient system 
of political economy, of dispensing with all arbitrary power, 
and of ruling alone by law and justice, — the brightest hopes 
spread over the world ; and confident youth promised itself 
and to all mankind a bright and noble future. 

In all these events, however, I only took part so far as they 
interested society in general ; I myself and my immediate 
circle did not meddle with the news of the day : our affair 
was to study men ; men in general we allowed to have their 
way. 

The quiet position of the German Fatherland, to which 
also my native city had now conformed for upwards of a 
hundred years, had been fully preserved in spite of many 
wars and convulsions. A highly varied gradation of ranks, 
which, instead of holding the several classes apart, seemed 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 267 

to bind them the more closely together, had promoted the 
interest of all, from the highest to the lowest, — from the 
emperor to the Jew. If the sovereign princes stood in a 
subordinate relation to the emperor, still their electoral rights 
and immunities, thereby acquired and maintained, were a full 
compensation. Moreover, the highest nobility belonged ex- 
clusively to the Agnates of the royal houses ; so that, in the 
enjoyment of their distinguished privileges, they could look 
upon themselves as equal with the highest, and even superior 
to them in some sense, since, as spiritual electors, they might 
take precedence of all others, and, as branches of the sacred 
hierarchy, hold an honorable and uncontested rank. 

If, now, we think of the extraordinary privileges which 
these ancient houses enjoyed, not only in their old patri- 
monial estates, but also in the ecclesiastical endowments, the 
knightly orders, the official administration of the empire, and 
the old brotherhoods and alliances for mutual defence and 
protection, we can vainly conceive that this great body of 
influential men, feeling themselves at once subordinated to 
and co-ordinate with the highest, and occupying their days 
with a regular round of employments, might well be contented 
with their situation, and would without further anxiety seek 
only to secure and transmit to their successors the same 
comforts and prerogatives. Nor was this class deficient in 
intellectual culture. Already for more than a century the 
decided proofs of high training in military and political 
science had been discernible in our noble soldiers and diplo- 
matists. But at the same time there were many minds, who, 
through literary and philosophical studies, had arrived at 
views not over favorable to the existing state of things. 

In Germany scarcely any one had as yet learned to look 
with envy on that monstrous privileged class, or to grudge 
its fortunate advantages. The middle class had devoted 
themselves undisturbed to commerce and the sciences, and 
by these pursuits, as well as by the practice of the mechanic 
arts, so closely related to them, had raised themselves to a 
position of importance, which fully balanced its political in- 
feriority : the free or half -free cities favored this activity, 
while individuals felt a certain quiet satisfaction in it. The 
man who increased his wealth, or enhanced his intellectual 
influence, especially in matters of law or state, could always 
be sure of enjoying both respect and authority. In the 
supreme courts of the empire, and, indeed, in all others, a 
learned bench stood parallel with the noble ; the uncontrolled 



268 TRUTH AND FICTION 

oversight of the one managed to keep in harmony with the 
deepest insight of the other, and experience could never 
detect a trace of rivalry between them ; the noble felt secure 
in his exclusive and time-hallowed privileges, and the burgher 
felt it beneath his dignhy to strive for a semblance of them 
by a little prefix to his name. 1 The merchant, the manu- 
facturer, had enough to do to keep pace with those of other 
nations in progress and improvement. Leaving out of the 
account the usual temporary fluctuations, we may certainly 
say that it was on the whole a time of pure advance, such as 
had not appeared before, and such as, on account of another 
and greater progress, both of mind and things, could not 
long continue. 

My position with regard to the higher classes at this time 
was very favorable. In " Werther," to be sure, the disagree- 
able circumstances which arise just at the boundary between 
two distinct positions, were descanted upon with some impa- 
tience ; but this was overlooked in consideration of the gene- 
rally passionate character of the book, since every one felt 
that it had no reference to any immediate effect. 

But " Gotz von Berlichingen " had set me quite right with 
the upper classes : whatever improprieties might be charged 
upon my earlier literary productions, in this work I had with 
great learning and much felicity depicted the old German 
constitution, with its inviolable emperor at the head, with its 
many degrees of nobility, and a knight who, in a time of 
general lawlessness, had determined as a private man to act 
uprightly, if not lawfully, and thus fell into a very soriy pre- 
dicament. This complicated story, however, was not snatched 
from the air, but founded on fact ; it was cheerful, lively, 
and consequently here and there a little modern ; but it was, 
nevertheless, on the whole, in the same spirit as the brave 
and capable man had with some degree of skill set it forth 
in his own narrative. 

The family still flourished : its relation to the Frankish 
knighthood had remained in all its integrity ; although that 
relation, like many others at that time, migtit have grown 
somewhat faint and nominal. 

Now all at once the little stream of Jaxt, and the castle of 
Jaxthausen, acquired a poetical importance : they, as well as 
the city-hall of Heilbronn, were visited by travellers. 

It was known that I had a mind to write of other points 
of that historical period ; and many a family, which could 

1 The " von," which in Germany those who are ennobled prefix to their surnames. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 269 

readily deduce their origin from that time, hoped to see their 
ancestors brought to the light in the same way. 

A strange satisfaction is generally felt, when a writer feli- 
citously brings a nation's history to its recollection : men 
rejoice in the virtues of their ancestors, and smile at the fail- 
ings, which they believe they themselves have long since got 
rid of. Such a delineation never fails to meet with sympathy 
and applause, and in this respect I enjoyed an envied influence. 

Yet it may be worth while to remark, that among the nu- 
merous advances, and in the multitude of young persons who 
attached themselves to me, there was found no nobleman : 
on the other hand, many who had already arrived at the age 
of thirty came in search of, and visited me ; and of these the 
willing and striving were pervaded by a joyful hope of ear- 
nestly developing themselves in a national and even more 
universally humane sense. 

At this time a general curiosity about the epoch between 
the fifteenth and sixteenth century had commenced, and was 
very lively. The works of Ulrich von Hutten had fallen 
into my hands ; and I was not a little struck to see some- 
thing so similar to what had taken place in his time, again 
manifesting itself in our later days. 

The following letter of Ulrich von Hutten to Billibald 
Pyrkheymer may therefore suitably find place here : — 

" What fortune gives us, it generally takes away again ; 
and not only that — every thing else which accrues to man 
from without, is, we see, liable to accident and change. 
And yet, notwithstanding, I am now striving for honor, 
which I should wish to obtain, if possible, without envy, but 
still at any cost ; for a fiery thirst for glory possesses me, so 
that I wish to be ennobled as highly as possible. I should 
make but a poor figure in my own eyes, dear Billibald, if, 
born in the rank, in the family I am, and of such ancestors, 
I could be content to hold myself to be noble, though I 
never ennobled myself by my own exertions. So great a 
work have I in my mind ! My thoughts are higher ! It is 
not that I would see myself promoted to a more distin- 
guished and more brilliant rank ; but I would fain seek a 
fountain elsewhere, out of which I might draw a peculiar 
nobility of my own, and not be counted among the factitious 
nobility, contented with what I have received from my 
ancestors. On the contrary, I would add to those advan- 
tages something of my own, which may, from me, pass over 
to my posterity. 



2*70 TRUTH AND FICTION 

" Therefore, in my studies and efforts, I proceed in oppo- 
sition to the opinion of those who consider that what actually 
exists is enough ; for to me nothing of that sort is enough, 
according to what I have already confessed to you of my 
ambition in this respect. And I here avow that I do not 
envy those who, starting from the lowest stations, have 
climbed higher than I ; for on this point I by no means 
agree with those of my own rank, who are wont to sneer at 
persons, who, of a lower origin, have, by their own talents, 
raised themselves to eminence. For those with perfect right 
are to be preferred to us, who have seized for themselves 
and taken possession of the material of glory, which we 
ourselves neglected : they may be the sons of fullers or of 
tanners ; but they have contrived to attain their ends, by 
struggling with greater difficulties than we should have had 
against us. The ignorant man, that envies him who by his 
knowledge has distinguished himself, is not only to be called 
a fool, but is to be reckoned among the miserable — indeed, 
among the most miserable ; and with this disease are our 
nobles especially affected, that they look with an evil eye 
upon such accomplishments. For what, in God's name ! Is 
it to envy one who possesses that which we have despised ? 
Why have we not applied ourselves to the law? Why have 
we not ourselves this excellent learning, the best arts ? And 
now fullers, shoemakers, and wheelwrights have got ahead 
of us. Why have we forsaken our post, why left the most 
liberal studies to hired servants and (shamefully for us !) to 
the very lowest of the people ? Most justly has that inher- 
itance of nobility which we have thrown away been taken 
possession of by every clever and diligent plebeian who 
makes it profitable by its own industry. Wretched beings 
that we are, who neglect that which suffices to raise the very 
humblest above us : let us cease to envy, and strive also to 
obtain what others, to our deep disgrace, have claimed for 
themselves. 

u Every longing for glory is honorable: all striving for 
the excellent is praiseworthy. To every rank may its own 
honor remain, may its own ornaments be secured to it ! 
Those statues of my ancestors I do not despise any more 
than the richly endow r ed pedigree : but, whatever their worth 
may be, it is not ours, unless by our own merits we make it 
ours ; nor can it endure, if the nobility do not adopt the 
habits which become them. In vain will yonder fat and 
corpulent head of a noble house point to the images of his 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 271 

ancestors, whilst he himself, inactive, resembles a clod 
rather than those whose virtues throw a halo upon his name 
from by-gone days. 

u So much have I wished most fully and most frankly to 
confide to you respecting my ambition and my nature." 

Although, perhaps, not exactly in the same train of ideas, 
yet the same excellent and strong sentiments had I to hear 
from my more distinguished friends and acquaintances, of 
which the results appeared in an honest activity. It had 
become a creed, that every one must earn for himself a per- 
sonal nobility ; and, if any rivalry appeared in those fine 
days, it was from above clown wards. 

We others, on the contrary, had what wc wished, — the 
free and approved exercise of the talents lent to us by 
nature, as far as could consist with all our civil relations. 

For my native city had in this a very peculiar position, 
and one which has not been enough considered. While, of the 
free imperial cities, the northern could boast of an extended 
commerce, but the southern, declining in commercial impor- 
tance, cultivated the arts and manufactures with more suc- 
cess, Frankfort-on-the-Main exhibited a somewhat mixed 
character, combining the results of trade, wealth, and capital 
with the passion for learning, and its collection of works of 
art. 

The Lutheran Confession controlled its government: the 
ancient lordship of the Gan^ now bearing the name of the 
house of Limburg ; the house of Frauenstein, originally only 
a club, but, during the troubles occasioned by the lower 
classes, faithful to the side of intelligence ; the jurist, and 
others well to do and well disposed, — none was excluded 
from the magistrac}^ : even those mechanics who had upheld 
the cause of order at a critical time were eligible to the coun- 
cil, though they were only stationary in their place. The 
other constitutional counterpoises, formal institutions, and 
whatever else belongs to such a constitution, afforded emplo}'- 
ment to the activity of many persons ; while trade and manu- 
facture, in so favorable a situation, found no obstacle to their 
growth and prosperity. 

The higher nobility kept to itself, unenvied and almost 
unnoticed : a second class pressing close upon it was forced 
to be more active, and, resting upon old wealthy family foun- 
dations, sought to distinguish itself by political and legal 
learning. 

The members of the so-called Reformed persuasion (Cal- 



272 TRUTH AND FICTION 

vinists) composed, like the refugees in other places, a distin- 
guished class, and, when they rode out in fine equipages on 
Sundays to their service in Bockenheim, seemed almost to 
celebrate a sort of triumph over the citizen's party, who had 
the privilege of going to church on foot in good weather and 
in bad. 

The Roman Catholics were scarcely noticed, but they also 
were aware of the advantages which the other two confes- 
sions had appropriated to themselves. 



EIGHTEENTH BOOK. 



Returning to literary matters, I must bring forward a cir- 
cumstance which had great influence on the German poetry 
of this period, and which is especially worthy of remark, be- 
cause this very influence has lasted through the history of our 
poetic art to the present day, and will not be lost even in the 
future. 

From the earlier times, the Germans were accustomed to 
rhyme : it had this advantage in its favor, that one could 
proceed in a very naive manner, scarcely doing more than 
count the syllables. If, with the progress of improvement, 
attention began more or less instinctively to be paid also to 
the sense and signification of the syllables, this was highly 
praiseworthy, and a merit which many poets contrived to 
make their own. The rhyme was made to mark the close of 
the poetical proposition : the smaller divisions were indicated 
by shorter lines, and a naturally refined ear began to make 
provision for variety and grace. But now all at once rhyme 
was rejected before it was considered that the value of the 
syllables had not as yet been decided, indeed that it was a 
difficult thing to decide. Klopstock took the lead. How 
earnestly he toiled, and what he has accomplished, is well 
known. Every one felt the uncertainty of the matter ; many 
did not like to run a risk ; and, stimulated by this natural ten- 
dency, they snatched at a poetic prose. Gessner's extremely 
charming Idylls opened an endless path. Klopstock wrote the 
dialogue of " Hermann's Schlacht " (" Hermann's Fight ") 
in prose, as well as " Der Tod Adams" ("The Death of 
Adam"). Through the domestic tragedies as well as the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 273 

more classic dramas, a style more lofty and more impassioned 
gained possession of the theatre ; while, on the other hand, 
the iambic verse of five feet, which the example of the Eng- 
lish had spread among us, was reducing poesy to prose. But 
in general the demand for rhythm and for rhyme could not 
be silenced. Ramler, though proceeding on vague principles 
(as he was always severe with respect to his own produc- 
tions) , could not help exercising the same severity upon those 
of others. He transformed prose into verse, altered and im- 
proved the works of others, by which means he earned little 
thanks, and only confused the matter still more. Those 
succeeded best who still conformed , to the old custom of 
rhyme with a certain observance of syllabic quantity, and 
who, guided by a natural taste, observed laws though unex- 
pressed and undetermined ; as, for example, Wieland, who, 
although inimitable, for a long time served as a model to 
more moderate talents. 

But still in any case the practice remained uncertain ; and 
there was no one, even among the best, who might not for the 
moment have gone astray. Hence the misfortune, that this 
epoch of our poetic history, so peculiarly rich in genius, pro- 
duced little which, in its kind, could be pronounced correct ; 
for here also the time was stirring, advancing, active, and 
calling for improvement, but not reflective, and satisfying its 
own requirements. 

In order, however, to find a firm soil on which poetic 
genius might find a footing — to discover an element in which 
they could breathe freely, they had gone back some centuries, 
where earnest talents were brilliantly prominent amid a 
chaotic state of things ; and thus they made friends with the 
poetic art of those times. The Minnesingers lay too far from 
us ; it would have been necessary first to study the language, 
and that was not our object : we wanted to live and not to learn. 

Hans Sachs, the really masterly poet, was nearest to our 
sympathy. A man of true talent, not indeed like the Min- 
nesinging knights and courtiers, but a plain citizen, such as 
we also boasted ourselves to be. A didactic realism suited 
us ; and on many occasions we made use of the easy rhythm, 
of the readily occurring rhyme. His manner seemed so 
suitable to mere poems of the day, and such we needed at 
every hour. 

If important works, which required the attention and labor 
of a year or a whole life, were built, more or less, upon such 



274 TRUTH AND FICTION 

hazardous grounds on trivial occasions, it may be imagined 
how wantonly all other ephemeral productions took their 
rise and shape ; for example, the poetical epistles, parables, 
and invectives of all forms, with which we went on making 
war within ourselves, and seeking squabbling abroad. 

Of this kind, besides what has already been printed, some- 
thing, though very little, survives : it may be laid up some- 
where. Brief allusions will suffice to reveal to thinking men 
their origin and purposes. Persons of more than ordinary 
penetration, to whose sight these may hereafter be brought, 
will be ready to observe that an honest purpose lay at the 
bottom of all such eccentricities. An upright will revolts 
against presumption, nature against conventionalities, talent 
against forms, genius with itself, energy against indecision, 
undeveloped capacity against developed mediocrity ; so that 
the whole proceeding may be regarded as a skirmish which 
follows a declaration of war, and gives promise of a violent 
contest. For, strictly considered, the contest is not yet 
fought out, in these fifty years : it is still going on, only in a 
higher region. 

I had, in imitation of an old German puppet-play, invented 
a wild extravaganza, which was to bear the title of " Hans- 
wurst's Hochzeit" (" Jack Pudding's Wedding "). 1 The 
scheme was as follows : Hanswurst, a rich young farmer and 
an orphan, has just come of age, and wishes to marry a rich 
maiden, named Ursel Blandine. His guardian, Kilian Brust- 
fleck (Leather-apron), and her mother Ursel, are highly 
pleased with the purpose. Their long-cherished plans, their 
dearest wishes, are at last fulfilled and gratified. There is 
not the slightest obstacle ; and properly the whole interest 
turns only upon this, that the young people's ardor for their 
union is delayed by the necessary arrangements and formali- 
ties of the occasion. As prologue, enters the inviter to the 
wedding festivities, who proclaims the banns after the tradi- 
tional fashion, and ends with the rhymes, — 

The wedding-feast is at the house 
Of mine host of the Golden Louse. 

To obviate the charge of violating the unity of place, the 
aforesaid tavern, with its glittering insignia, was placed in 
the background of the theatre, but so that all its four sides 

1 Hanswurst is the old German buffoon, whose name answers to the English 
" Jack Pudding." — Trans. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 2*5 

could be presented to view by being turned upon a peg; 
and, as it was moved round, the front scenes of the stage had 
to undergo corresponding changes. 

In the first act the front of the house facing the street 
was turned to the audience, with its golden sign magnified as 
it were by the solar microscope ; in the second act, the side 
towards the garden. The third was towards a little wood ; 
the fourth towards a neighboring lake, which gave rise to a 
prediction, that in after-times the decorator would have little 
difficulty in carrying a wave over the whole stage up to the 
prompter's box. 

But all this does not as yet reveal the peculiar interest of 
the piece. The principal joke which was carried out, even 
to an absurd length, arose from the fact that the whole 
dramatis personam consisted of mere traditional German nick- 
names, which at once brought out the characters of the in- 
dividuals, and determined their relations to one another. 

As we would fain hope that the present book will be read 
aloud in good society, and even in decent family circles, we 
cannot venture, after the custom of every play-bill, to name 
our persons here in order, nor to cite the passages in which 
they most clearly and prominently showed themselves in their 
true colors ; although, in the simplest way possible, lively, 
roguish, broad allusions, and witty jokes, could not but arise. 
We add one leaf as a specimen, leaving our editors the 
liberty of deciding upon its admissibility. 

Cousin Schuft (scamp), through his relationship to the 
family, was entitled to an invitation to the feast ; no one had 
any thing to say against it ; for though he was a thoroughly 
good-for-nothing fellow, yet there he was ; and, since he was 
there, they could not with propriety leave him out ; on such 
a feast-day, too, they were not to remember that they had 
occasionally been dissatisfied with him. 

With Master Schurke (knave) , it was a still more serious 
case : he had, indeed, been useful to the family, when it was 
to his own profit ; on the other hand, again, he had injured 
it, perhaps, in this case, also with an eye to his own interests, 
perhaps, too, because he found an opportunity. Those who 
were anyways prudent voted for his admission : the few 
who would have excluded him w r ere out- voted. 

But there was a third person, about whom it was still more 
difficult to decide ; an orderly man in society, no less than 
others, obliging, agreeable, useful in many ways : he had a 
single failing, that he could not bear his name to be men- 



276 TRUTH AND FICTION 

iioned, and, as soon as he heard it, was instantaneously trans- 
ported into a heroic fury, like that which the Northmen call 
" Berserker-rage,' ' attempted to kill all right and left, and 
in his frenzy hurt others and received hurt himself ; indeed, 
the second act of the piece was brought, through him, to a 
very perplexed termination. 

Here was an opportunity, which I could not allow to pass, 
for chastising the piratical publisher Macklot. He is intro- 
duced going about hawking his Macklot wares ; and, when he 
hears of the preparation for the wedding, he cannot resist the 
impulse to go sponging for a dinner, and to stuff his ravening 
maw at other people's expense. He announces himself : 
Kilian Brustfleck inquires into his claims, but is obliged to 
refuse him, since it was an understanding that all the guests 
should be well-known public characters, to which recommen- 
dation the applicant can make no claim. Macklot does his 
best to show that he is as renowned as any of them. But 
when Kilian Brustfleck, as a strict master of ceremonies, 
shows himself immovable, the nameless person, who has re- 
covered from his Berserker-rage at the end of the second act, 
espouses the cause of his near relative, the book-pirate, so 
urgently, that the latter is finally admitted among the guests. 

About this time the Counts Stolberg arrived at Frankfort : 
they were on a journey to Switzerland, and wished to make 
us a visit. The earliest productions of my dawning talent, 
which appeared in the " Gottingen Musenalmanach," had 
led to my forming a friendly relation with them, and with all 
those other young men whose characters and labors are now 
well known. At that time rather strange ideas were enter- 
tained of friendship and love. They applied themselves to 
nothing more, properly speaking, than a certain vivacity of 
youth, which led to a mutual association and to an interchange 
of minds, full indeed of talent, but nevertheless uncultivated. 
Such a mutual relation, which looked indeed like confidence, 
was mistaken for love, for genuine inclination : I deceived 
myself in this as well as others, and have, in more than one 
way, suffered from it many years. There is still in existence 
a letter of Burger's belonging to that time, from which it may 
be seen, that, among these companions, there was no ques- 
tion about the moral aesthetic. Every one felt himself ex- 
cited, and thought that he might act and poetize accordingly. 

The brothers arrived, bringing Count Haugwitz with them. 
They were received by me with open he*^ with kindly pro- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 277 

priety. They lodged at the hotel, but were generally with 
us at dinner. The first joyous meeting proved highly grati- 
fying, but troublesome eccentricities soon manifested them- ( 
selves. 

A singular position arose for my mother. In her ready, 
frank way, she could carry herself back to the Middle Ages 
at once, and take the part of Aja with some Lombard or 
Byzantine princess. They called her nothing else than Tian 
Aja, and she was pleased with the joke ; entering the more 
heartily into the fantasies of youth, as she believed she saw 
her own portrait in the lady of Gotz von Berlichingen. 

But this could not last long. We had dined together but 
a few times, when once, after enjoying glass after glass, our 
poetic hatred for tyrants showed itself ; and we avowed a 
thirst for the blood of such villains. My father smiled, and 
shook his head : my mother had scarcely heard of a tyrant 
in her life ; however, she recollected having seen the copper- 
plate engraving of such a monster in Gottfried's Chronicles, 
viz., King Cambyses, whom he describes as having shot with 
an arrow the little son of an enemy through the heart, and 
boasting of his deed to the father's face : this still stood in 
her memory. To give a cheerful turn to the conversation, 
which continually grew more violent, she betook herself to 
her cellar, where her oldest wines lay carefully preserved in 
large casks. There she had in store no less treasure than 
the vintages of 1706, '19, '26, and '48, all under her own 
especial watch and ward, which were seldom broached except 
on solemn festive occasions. 

As she set before us the rich-colored wine in the polished 
decanter, she exclaimed, "Here is the true tyrant's blood! 
Glut yourselves with this, but let all murderous thoughts go 
out of my house ! ' ' 

"Yes, tyrant's blood indeed!" I cried: "there is no 
greater tyrant than the one whose heart's blood is here set 
before you. Regale yourselves with it, but use moderation ; 
for beware lest he subdue you by his spirit and agreeable 
taste ! The vine is the universal tyrant, who ought to be 
rooted up : let us therefore choose and reverence as our 
patron saint the holy Lycurgus, the Thracian ; he set about 
the pious work in earnest ; and, though at last blinded and 
corrupted by the infatuating demon Bacchus, he yet deserves 
to stand high in the army of martyrs above. 

"This vine is the very vilest tyrant, at once an oppressor, 
a flatterer, and a hypocrite. The first draughts of his blood 



278 TRUTH AND FICTION 

are sweetly relishing, but one drop incessantly entices 
another after it : they succeed each other like a necklace of 
pearls, which one fears to pull apart.' ' 

If I should be suspected here of substituting, as the best 
historians have done, a fictitious speech for the actual ad- 
dress, I can only express my regret that no short-hand 
writer had taken down this peroration at once, and handed it 
down to us. The thoughts would be found the same, but 
the flow of the language perhaps more graceful and attrac- 
tive. Above all, however, in the present sketch, as a whole, 
there is a want of that diffuse eloquence and fulness of youth, 
which feels itself, and knows not whither its strength and 
faculty will carry it. 

In a city like Frankfort, one is placed in a strange position : 
strangers continually crossing each other, point to every 
region of the globe, and awaken a passion for travelling. 
On many an occasion before now I had shown an inclination 
to be moving ; and now at the very moment when .the great 
point was, to make an experiment whether I could renounce 
Lilli — when a certain painful disquiet unfitted me for all 
regular business, the proposition of the Stolbergs, that I 
should accompany them to Switzerland, was welcome. 
Stimulated, moreover, by the exhortations of my father, 
who looked with pleasure on the idea of my travelling in 
that direction, and who advised me not to omit to pass over 
into Italy if a suitable occasion should offer itself, I at once 
decided to go, and soon had every thing packed for the 
journey. With some intimation, but without leave-taking, 
I separated myself from Lilli : she had so grown into my 
heart, that I did not believe it possible to part myself from 
her. 

In a few hours I found myself with my merry fellow-trav- 
ellers in Darmstadt. Even at court we should not always 
act with perfect propriety : here Count Haugwitz took the 
lead. He was the youngest of us all, well formed, of a 
delicate but noble appearance, with soft, friendly features, 
of an equable disposition, sympathizing enough, but with so 
much moderation, that, contrasted with us, he appeared quite 
impassible. Consequently, he had to put up with all sorts 
of jibes and nicknames from them. This was all very well, 
so long as they believed that they might act like children 
of nature ; but as soon as occasion called for propriety, and 
when one was again obliged, not unwillingly, to put on the 
reserve of a count, then he knew how to introduce and to 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 279 

smooth over every thing ; so that we always came off with 
tolerable credit, if not with eclat. 

I spent my time, meanwhile, with Merck, who, in his 
Mephistopheles manner, looked upon my intended journey 
with an evil eye, and described my companions, who had 
also paid him a visit, with a discrimination that listened not 
to any suggestions of mercy. In his way he knew me 
thoroughly ; the naive and indomitable good nature of my 
character was painful to him ; the everlasting purpose to take 
things as they are, the live and let live, was his detestation. 
"It is a foolish trick," he said, "your going with these 
Burschen ; " and then he would describe them aptly, but not 
altogether justly. Throughout there was a want of good 
feeling, and here I could believe that I could see farther 
than he did ; although I did not in fact do this, but only 
knew how to appreciate those ideas of their character which 
lay beyond the circle of his vision. 

"You will not stay long with them!" was the close of 
all his remarks. On this occasion I remember a remarkable 
saying of his, which he repeated to me at a later time, 
which I had often repeated to myself, and frequently found 
confirmed in life. "Thy striving/' said he, "thy unswerv- 
ing effort is, to give a poetic form to the real : others seek to 
give reality to the so-called poetic, to the imaginative ; and 
of that nothing will ever come but stupid stuff.' ' Whoever 
apprehends the immense difference between these two modes 
of action, whoever insists and acts upon this conviction, has 
reached the solution of a thousand other things. 

Unluckily, before our party left Darmstadt, an incident 
happened which tended to verify beyond dispute the opinion 
of Merck. 

Among the extravaganzas which grew out of the notion 
that we should try to transport ourselves into a state of na- 
ture, was that of bathing in public waters in the open air ; 
and our friends, after violating every other law of propriety, 
could not forego this additional unseemliness. Darmstadt, 
situated on a sandy plain, without running water, had, it 
appeared, a pond in the neighborhood, of which I only heard 
on this occasion. My friends, who were hot by nature, and 
moreover kept continually heating themselves, sought refresh- 
ment in this pond. The sight of naked youths in the clear 
sunshine might well seem something strange in this region : at 
all events scandal arose. Merck sharpened his conclusions, 
and I do not deny that I was glad to hasten our departure. 



280 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Already on the way to Mannheim, in spite of all good and 
noble feelings which we entertained in common, a certain 
difference in sentiment and conduct exhibited itself, Leo- 
pold Stolberg told us, with much of feeling and passion, that 
he had been forced to renounce a sincere attachment to a 
beautiful English lady, and on that account had undertaken 
so long a journey. When he received in return the sympa- 
thizing confession that we, too, were not strangers to such 
experiences, then he gave vent without respect to the feel- 
ings of youth, declaring that nothing in the world could be 
compared with his passion, his sufferings, or with the beauty 
and amiability of his beloved. If by moderate observations 
we tried, as is proper among good companions, to bring him 
duly to qualify his assertion, it only made matters worse ; 
and Count Haugwitz, as well as I, were inclined at last to 
let the matter drop. When we had reached Mannheim, we 
occupied pleasant chambers in a respectable hotel ; and after 
our first dinner there, during the dessert, at which the wine 
was not spared, Leopold challenged us to drink to the health 
of his fair one, which was done noisily enough. The glasses 
having been drained, he cried out, "But now, out of goblets 
thus consecrated, no more drinking must be permitted ; a 
second health would be a profanation ; therefore, let us an- 
nihilate these vessels ! " and with these words he dashed the 
wine-glass against the wall behind him. The rest of us fol- 
lowed his example ; and I imagined, at the moment, that 
Merck pulled me by the collar. 

But youth still retains this trait of childhood, that it har- 
bors no malice against good companions ; that its unsophis- 
ticated good nature may be brushed somewhat roughly indeed, 
to be sure, but cannot be permanently injured. 

The glasses thus proclaimed angelical had considerably 
swelled our reckoning : comforting ourselves, however, and 
determined to be merry, we hastened for Carlsruhe, there to 
enter a new circle, with all the confidence of youth and its 
freedom from care. There we found Klopstock, who still 
maintained, with dignity, his ancient authority over disciples 
who held him in reverence. I also gladly did homage to 
him ; so that, when bidden to his court with the others, I 
probably conducted myself tolerably well for a novice. One 
felt too, in a certain manner, called upon to be natural and 
sensible at the same time. 

The reigning Margrave, highly honored among the Ger- 
man sovereigns as one of their princely seniors, but more 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 281 

especially on account of the excellent aims of his govern- 
ment, was glad to converse about matters of political economy. 
The Margravine, active and well versed in the arts and vari- 
ous useful branches of knowledge, was also pleased by some 
graceful speeches to manifest a certain sympathy for us, 
for which we were duly grateful, though when at home we 
could not refrain from venting some severe remarks upon 
her miserable paper-manufactory, and the favor she showed 
to the piratical bookseller Macklot. 

The circumstance, however, of importance for me, was, 
that the young duke of Saxe -Weimar had arrived here to 
enter into a formal matrimonial engagement with his noble 
bride, the Princess Louisa of Hesse-Darmstadt : President von 
Moser had already arrived on the same business, in order to 
settle this important contract with the court-tutor, Count 
Gortz, and fully to ratify it. My conversations with both 
the high personages were most friendly ; and, at the farewell 
audience, they both made me repeated assurances that it 
would be pleasant to them to see me at Weimar. 

Some private conversations with Klopstock won me by 
the friendliness they showed, and led me to use openness 
and candor with him. I communicated to him the latest 
scenes of " Faust," which he seemed to approve of. In- 
deed, as I afterwards learned, he had spoken of them to 
others with marked commendation, a thing not usual with 
him, and expressed a wish to see the conclusion of the 
piece. 

Our former rudeness, though sometimes, as we called it, 
our genius-like demeanor, was kept in something like a 
chaste restraint in Carlsruhe, which is decent and almost 
holy ground. I parted from my companions, as I had re- 
solved to take a wide round and go to Emmendingen, where 
my brother-in-law was high bailiff. I looked upon this visit 
to my sister as a real trial. I knew that her married life 
was unhappy ; while there was no cause to find fault with 
her, with her husband, or with circumstances. She was of 
a peculiar nature, of which it is difficult to speak : we will 
endeavor, however, to set down here whatever admits of 
being described. 

A fine form was in her favor ; but not so her features, 
which, although expressing, clearly enough, goodness, intel- 
ligence, and sensibility, were nevertheless wanting in regu- 
larity and grace. 

Add to this, that a high and strongly arched forehead, 



282 TRUTH AND FICTION 

exposed still more by the abominable fashion of dressing 
the hair back on the head, contributed to leave a certain un- 
pleasant impression, although it bore the best testimony to 
her moral and intellectual qualities. I can fancy, that if, 
after the modern fashion, she had surrounded the upper part 
of her face with curls, and clothed her temples and cheeks 
with ringlets, she would have found herself more agreeable 
before the mirror, without fear of displeasing others as well 
as herself. Then, there was the grave fault, that her skin 
was seldom clean, an evil which from her youth up, by some 
demoniacal fatality, was most sure to show itself on all festal 
occasions, and at concerts, balls, and other parties. 

In spite of these drawbacks, she gradually made her way, 
however, as her better and nobler qualities showed them- 
selves more distinctly. 

A firm character not easily controlled, a soul that sympa- 
thized and needed sympathy, a highly cultivated mind, fine 
acquirements and talents, some knowledge of languages and 
a ready pen, — all these she possessed; so that, if she had 
been more richly favored with outward charms, she would 
have been among the women most sought after in her day. 

Besides all this, there is one strange thing to be mentioned : 
there was not the slightest touch of sensual passion in her 
nature. She had grown up with me, and had no other wish 
than to continue and pass her life in this fraternal union. 
Since my return from the academy we had been inseparable i 
with the most unreserved confidence we shared all our 
thoughts, feelings, and humors, and even the most incidental 
and passing impressions of every accidental circumstance. 
When I went to Wetzlar, the loneliness of the house without 
me seemed insupportable : my friend Schlosser, neither un- 
known nor repugnant to the good girl, stepped into my 
place. In him, unfortunately, the brotherly affection changed 
into a decided, and, to judge from his strictly conscientious 
character, probably a first, passion. Here there was found 
what people call as good a match as could be wished ; and 
my sister, after having steadfastly rejected several good 
offers, but from insignificant men, whom she always had an 
aversion to, allowed herself to be, I may well say, talked 
into accepting him. 

I must frankly confess that I have frequently indulged in 
fancies about my sister's destiny : I did not like to think of 
her as the mistress of a family, but rather as an abbess, as 
the lady-superior of some noble community." She possessed 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 283 

every requisite for such a high position, while she was want- 
ing in all that the world deems indispensable in its members. 
Over feminine souls she always exercised an irresistible influ- 
ence : young minds were gently attracted towards her, and 
she ruled them by the spirit of her inward superiority. As 
she had in common with me a universal tolerance for the 
good, the human, with all its eccentricities, provided they did 
not amount to perversity, there was no need for seeking to 
conceal from her any idiosyncrasy which might mark any 
remarkable natural talents, or for its owner feeling any con- 
straint in her presence : hence our parties, as we have seen 
before, were always varied, free, ingenuous, and sometimes, 
perhaps, bordering on boldness. My habit of forming inti- 
macies of a respectful and obliging nature with young ladies, 
without any closer engagement or relations being the result, 
was mainly owing to my sister's influence over me. And 
now the sagacious reader, who is capable of reading into 
these lines what does not stand written in them, but is never- 
theless implied, will be able to form some conception of the 
serious feelings with which I then set foot in Emmendingen. 
But at my departure, after a short visit, a heavier load lay 
on my heart ; for my sister had earnestly recommended, not 
to say enjoined, me, to break off my connection with Lilli. 
She herself had suffered much from a long-protracted en- 
gagement : Schlosser, with his spirit of rectitude, did not 
betroth himself to her until he was sure of his appointment 
under the Grand Duke of Baden, — indeed, if one would take 
it so, until he was actually appointed. The answer to his 
application, however, was delayed in an incredible manner. 
If I may express my conjecture on the matter, the brave 
Schlosser, able man of business as he was, was nevertheless, 
on account of his downright integrity, desirable neither to the 
prince as a servant, immediately in contact with himself, nor 
to the minister, who still less liked to have so honest a coad- 
jutor near to him. His expected and earnestly desired 
appointment at Carlsruhe was never filled up. But the delay 
w r as explained to me when the place of upper bailiff in 
Emmendingen became vacant and he was instantly selected 
for it. Thus an office of much dignity and profit was now 
intrusted to him, for which he had shown himself fully com- 
petent. It seemed entirely suited to his taste, his mode of 
action, to stand here alone to act according to his own con- 
viction, and to be held responsible for every thing, whether 
for praise or blame- 



284 TRUTH AND FICTION 

As no objections could be raised to his accepting this place, 
my sister had to follow him, not indeed to a court-residence, 
as she had hoped, but to a place which must have seemed to 
her a solitude, a desert ; to a dwelling, spacious to be sure, 
with an official dignity, and stately, but destitute of all chance 
of society. Some young ladies, with whom she had cultivated 
an early friendship, followed her there : and, as the Gerock 
family was blessed with many daughters, these contrived to 
stay with her in turn ; so that, in the midst of such privation, 
she always enjoyed the presence of at least one long-trusted 
friend. 

These circumstances, these experiences, made her feel 
justified in recommending to me, most earnestly, a separation 
from Lilli. She thought it hard to take such a young lady 
(of whom she had formed the highest opinion) out of the 
midst of a lively, if not splendid, circle, and to shut her up 
in our old house, which, although very passable in its way, 
was not suited for the reception of distinguished society, 
sticking her, as it were, between a well-disposed, but unsoci- 
able, precise, and formal, father, and a mother extremely 
active in her domestic matters, who, after the household 
business of the day was over, would not like to be disturbed 
over some notable bit of work by a friendly conversation 
with forward and refined young girls. On the other hand, 
she in a lively manner set LihTs position before me ; for 
partly in my letters, partly in a confidential but impassioned 
conversation, I had told her every thing to a hair. 

Unfortunately her description was only a circumstantial 
and well-meant completion of what a gossiping friend, in 
whom, by degrees, all confidence ceased to be placed, had 
contrived, by mentioning a few characteristic traits, to insinu- 
ate into her mind. 

I could promise her nothing, although I was obliged to 
confess that she had convinced me. I went on with that 
enigmatic feeling in my heart, with which passion always 
nourishes itself ; for the child Cupid clings obstinately to the 
garment of Hope, even when she is preparing with long steps 
to flee away. 

The only thing between this place and Zurich which I now 
clearly remember, is the falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen. 
A mighty cascade here gives the indication of the mountain- 
ous region which we designed to enter, where, each step 
becoming steeper and more difficult, we should have labori- 
ously to clamber up the heights. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 285 

The view of the lake of Zurich, which we enjoyed from the 
gate of the u Sword," is still before me: I say from the 
gate of the tavern ; for, without stopping to enter it, I 
hastened to Lavater. He gave me a cheerful and hearty 
reception, and was, I must confess, extremely gracious : con- 
fiding, considerate, kind, and elevating was his bearing ; in- 
deed, it would be impossible to expect any thing else of him. 
His wife, with somewhat singular, but serene, tenderly pious, 
expression of countenance, fully harmonized, like every thing 
else about him, with his way of thinking and living. 

Our first and perhaps only theme of conversation was his 
system of physiognomy. The first part of this remarkable 
work was, if I mistake not, already printed, or at least near 
its completion. It might be said to be at once stamped with 
genius, and yet empirical ; methodical, but still in its 
instances incomplete and partial. I was strangely connected 
with it : Lavater wanted all the world for co-operators and 
sympathizers. During his travels up the Rhine, he had por- 
traits taken of a great many distinguished men, in order to 
excite their personal interest in a work in which they were 
to appear. He proceeded in the same way with artists : he 
called upon every one to send him drawings for illustrations. 
The latter came, and many were not exactly suited for his 
purpose. So, too, he had copper-plates engraved in all parts, 
whi^h seldom turned out characteristic copies. Much labor 
had been bestowed on his part : with money and exertions of 
all kinds, an important work was now ready, and full honor 
was done to physiognomy. But when in a great volume, 
illustrated by examples, physiognomy, founded on doctrine, 
was to set up its claims to the dignity of science, it was 
found that not a single picture said what it ought to say : all 
the plates had to be censured or to be taken with exceptions, 
none to be praised, but only tolerated ; many, indeed, were 
quite altered by the explanations. For me, who in all my 
studies sought a firm footing before I went farther, I had now 
to perform one of the most painful tasks which industry 
could be set to. Let the reader judge. The manuscript, 
with impressions of the plates inserted, was sent to me at 
Frankfort. I was authorized to strike out whatever dis- 
pleased me, to change and put in what I liked. However, I 
made a very moderate use of this liberty. In one instance 
he had introduced a long and violent piece of controversy 
against an unjust orator, which I left out, and substituted a 
cheerful poem about nature ; for this he scolded me, but 



286 TRUTH AND FICTION 

afterwards, when he had cooled down, approved of what I 
had done. 

Whoever turns over the four volumes of physiognomy, and 
(what he will not repent of ) reads them, may conceive the 
interest there was in our interviews, during which, as most 
of the plates contained in it were already drawn, and part of 
them had been engraved, we examined, and decided on those 
fit to be inserted in the work, and considered the ingenious 
means by which those, which did not exactly tally with its 
principles, might be made instructive and suitable. 

Whenever at present I look through the work of Lavater, 
a comic, merry feeling comes over me : it seems as if I saw 
before me the shadows of men formerly known to me, over 
whom I once fretted, and in whom I find little satisfaction 
now. 

The possibility, however, of retaining, in some sort, much 
that otherwise would have beer* unsuitable, was owing to the 
fine and decided talent of the sketcher and engraver, Lips. 
He was, in fact, born for the free prosaic representation of 
the actual, which was precisely the thing wanted in this case. 
He worked under a singularly exacting physiognomist, and 
therefore was obliged to look sharp to approximate to the 
demands of his master : the clever peasant-boy felt the whole 
responsibility of working for a clerical gentleman from a 
city so highly privileged, and gave his best care to the 
business. 

Living in a separate house from my companions, I became 
every day more of a stranger to them, without the least un- 
pleasant feeling having arisen : our rural excursions were no 
longer made together, although in the city we still kept up 
some intercourse. With all the arrogance of young counts, 
they had honored Lavater with a visit, and appeared to the 
skilful physiognomist somewhat different from what they did 
to the rest of the world. He spoke to me about them ; and I 
remember quite well, that, speaking of Leopold Stolberg, he 
exclaimed, " I know not what you all mean: he is a noble, 
excellent youth, and full of talent ; but you have described 
him to me as a hero, as a Hercules ; and I have never in my 
life seen a softer and more sensitive young man, nor, if 
need be, one more easily influenced. I am still far from 
having formed a clear physiognomical judgment of him ; but 
as for you and all the rest, you are in a fog altogether.' ' 

Since Lavater' s journey on the Lower Rhine, the public 
interest in him and his physiognomical studies had greatly 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 287 

increased : visitors of all sorts crowded upon him ; so that he 
felt in some sort embarrassed at being looked upon as the 
first of spiritual and intellectual men, and the chief point of 
attraction for strangers. Hence, to avoid envy and all un- 
pleasant feelings, he managed to remind and warn his visitors 
that they must treat other distinguished men with friendship 
and respect. 

In this, especial regard was had to the aged Bodmer ; and, 
accordingly, we were compelled to visit him and pay our 
youthful respects to him. He lived on a hill, above the large 
or old town, which lay on the right bank, where the lake 
contracts its waters into the Limmat. We crossed the old 
town, and, by a path that became steeper and steeper, at last 
ascended the height behind the walls, where, between the 
fortifications and the old wall, a pleasant suburb had sprung 
up, partly in continuous and partly in detached houses, with 
a half -country look. The house where Bodmer had passed his 
whole life stood in the midst of an open and cheerful neigh- 
borhood, which, the day being beautiful and clear, we often 
paused on our road to survey with the greatest pleasure. 

We were conducted up a flight of steps into a wainscoted 
chamber, where a brisk old man, of middle stature, came to 
meet us. He received us with the greeting he usually ad- 
dressed to young visitors, telling us that we must consider 
it an act of courtesy on his part to have delayed so long his 
departure from this world, in order that he might receive 
us kindly, form our acquaintance, refresh himself with our 
talents, and wish us joy in our future career. 

We, on the other hand, congratulated him, that as a poet, 
belonging to the patriarchal world, he had yet, in the neigh- 
borhood of the most highly cultivated city, possessed during 
his whole life a truly idyllic dwelling, and, in the high, free 
air, had enjoyed for so many long years such a wide and 
beautiful prospect to feed his eyes with unfading delight. 

It seemed any thing but displeasing to the old man when 
we asked permission to take a view from his window of the 
neighboring scenery ; and truly the prospect in the cheerful 
sunshine, and in the best season of the year, appeared quite 
incomparable. The prospect commanded much of the slope, 
from the great town dow r n to the waters edge, as well as 
the smaller town across the Limmat, and the whole of the 
fertile Sihl-feld, towards the west. Behind us, on the left, 
was a part of the lake of Zurich, with its bright, rippled sur- 
face, and its shores endlessly varying with alternating hill 



288 TRUTH AND FICTION 

and valley and height after height in greater variety than the 
eye could take in, which, dazzled by this splendor, delighted 
to rest on the blue range of the loftier mountains in the dis- 
tance, whose snowy summits man has been so far intimate 
with as to give names to. 

The rapture of young men at sight of the marvellous 
beauty, which, for so many years, had daily been before him, 
appeared to please the old poet ; he became, so to speak, 
ironically sympathizing : and we parted the best of friends, 
but not before a yearning for those blue mountain heights 
had taken possession of our souls. 

Now that I am on the point of leaving our worthy patri- 
arch, I remark, for the first time, that I have as yet said 
nothing of his form and countenance, of his movements, and 
his carriage and bearing. 

In general, I do not think it quite right for travellers to 
describe every distinguished man whom they visit, as if they 
wanted to furnish materials for advertising a runaway. No 
one sufficiently considers that he has only looked at the great 
man during the moment of introduction, and then only in his 
own way ; and that, according to the circumstances of the 
moment, the host may or not be what he seemed, proud or 
meek, silent or talkative, cheerful or morose. In this par- 
ticular case, however, I may excuse myself from the attempt, 
by saying that no verbal description of Bodmer's venerable 
person would convey an adequate impression. Fortunately, 
there exists a picture of him by Count von Bause, which per- 
fectly represents the man as he appeared to us, and, indeed, 
exactly preserves his peculiar penetrating and reflective look. 

A great, not indeed unexpected, but still highly coveted, 
gratification awaited me in Zurich, where I met my young 
friend Passavant. Of a respectable family of the reformed 
persuasion, and born in my native city, he lived in Switzer- 
land, at the fountain-head of the doctrine which he was after- 
wards to proclaim as a preacher. With a frame not large, 
but active, his face and his whole manner promised a quick 
and agreeable resoluteness of character. His hair and beard 
were black, his eyes lively. On the whole, you saw in him 
a man of some sensitiveness, but of moderate energy. 

Scarcely had we embraced one another, and exchanged the 
first greeting, when he immediately proposed to me to visit 
the smaller cantons. Having himself already walked through 
them with great delight, he wished, with the sight of them, to 
awaken my rapture and enthusiasm. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 289 

While I was talking over, with Lavater, the most interest- 
ing and important points of our common business, until we 
had nearly exhausted them, my lively fellow-travellers had 
already sallied forth in various directions, and, in their own 
fashion, had examined the country. Passavant, receiving 
and welcoming me with hearty friendship, believed that he 
had gained thereby a right to the exclusive possession of my 
society, and therefore, in the absence of my companions, 
contrived to entice me to the mountains, the more easily, 
since I was decidedly inclined to accomplish the long-desired 
ramble in quiet, and at liberty to follow my own whims. 
Without further deliberation, therefore, we stepped into a 
boat, and sailed up the glorious lake on a fine clear morning. 

A poem inserted here may give the reader some intimation 
of those happy moments : — 

And here I drink new blood, fresh food, 

From world so free, so blest : 
How sweet is Nature, and how good, 

Who holds me to her breast ! 
The waves are cradling up our boat, 

The oars are beating time ; 
Mountains we meet that seem afloat 

In heavenly clouds sublime. 

Why, my eye, art downward turning ? 
Golden dreams, are ye returning ? 
Dream, though gold, I thee repel: 
Love and life here also dwell. 

'Neath the wave are sinking 
Stars from heaven sparkling; 
Soft white mists are drinking 
Distance towering, darkling; 
Morning wind is fanning 
Trees, by the bay that root; 
And its image scanning 
Is the ripening fruit. 

— Editor's Version. 

We landed in Richterswyl, where we had an introduction 
from Lavater to Dr. Hotze. As a physician, and a highly 
intelligent and benevolent man, he enjoyed great esteem in 
his immediate neighborhood and in the whole country ; and 
we can do no better honor to his memory than by referring to 
a passage in Lavater's ''Physiognomy," which describes him. 

After a very hospitable entertainment, which he relieved 
with a highly agreeable and instructive conversation, describ- 
ing to us the next halting-places in our journey, we ascended 



290 TRUTH AND FICTION 

the mountains which lay before us. When we were about to 
descend again into the vale of Schindellegi, we turned round 
to take in once more the charming prospect over the lake of 
Zurich. 

Of my feelings at that moment some idea may be gathered 
from the following lines, which, just as I wrote them down, 
are still preserved in a little memorandum-book : — 

If I, dearest Lilli, did not love thee, 
What delight I should have in this view! 

And yet were I, Lilli, not to love thee, 
Could here, could true bliss to me accrue ? 

— Editor's Version. 

This little impromptu reads to me more expressive in its 
present context than as it stands by itself in the printed col- 
lection of my poems. 

The rough roads which led to St. Mary's hermitage did 
not wear out our good spirits. A number of pilgrims, whom 
we had remarked below upon the lake, now overtook us, and 
asked the aid of our prayers in behalf of their pious object. 
We saluted them, and let them pass ; and, as they moved 
regularly with their hymns and prayers, they lent a charac- 
teristic graceful animation to the dreary heights. We saw 
livingly marked out the serpentine path which we, too, had to 
travel, and seemed to be joyously following. The customs 
of the Romish church are altogether significant and imposing 
to the Protestant, inasmuch as he only recognizes the inmost 
principle by which they were first called forth, the human 
element by which they are propagated from race to race ; 
thus penetrating at once to the kernel, without troubling him- 
self, just at the moment, with the shell, the rind, or even with 
the tree itself, its twigs, leaves, bark, and roots. 

We now saw rising a dreary, treeless vale, the splendid 
church, the cloister, of broad and stately compass, in the 
midst of a neat place of sojourn for a large and varied as- 
sembly of guests. 

The little church within the church, the former hermitage 
of the saint, incrusted with marble, and transformed as far 
as possible into a regular chapel, was something new to me, 
something that I had not seen, — this little vessel, surrounded 
and built over with pillars and vaults. It could not but 
excite sober thoughts to reflect how a single spark of good- 
ness, and of the fear of God, had here kindled a bright and 
burning flame, so that troops of believers never ceased to 
make painful pilgrimages in order to light their little tapers 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 291 

at this holy fire. However the fact is to be explained, it 
plainly points at least to an unbounded craving in man for 
equal light, for equal warmth, with that which this old hermit 
cherished and enjoyed in the deepest feeling and the most 
secure conviction. We were shown into the treasure chamber, 
which was rich and imposing enough, and offered to the 
astonished eye busts of the size of life, not to say colossal, 
of the saints and founders of different orders. 

A very different sort of feeling was awakened at the sight 
of a closet opening upon this. It was filled with antique 
valuables, here dedicated and honored. My attention was 
fixed by various golden crowns of remarkable workmanship, 
out of which I contemplated one exclusively. It was a 
pointed crown in the style of former days, such as one may 
have seen in pictures on the heads of ancient queens, but 
of a most tasteful design and of highly elaborate execution. 
The colored stones with which it was studded were distributed 
over it or set opposite to each other with great effect and 
judgment: it was, in short, a work of that kind which one 
would pronounce perfect at the first glance, without waiting 
to bring out this impression by an appeal to the laws of art. 

In such cases, where the art is not recognized,, but felt, 
heart and soul are turned towards the object : one would like 
to possess the jewel, that one might impart pleasure to others 
with such a gift. I begged permission to handle the little 
crown ; and, as I held it up respectfully in my hand, I could 
not help thinking that I should like to press it upon the 
bright, glittering locks of Lilli, lead her before the mirror, 
and witness her own joy in it, and the happiness which she 
spread around her. I have often thought since, that this 
scene, if realized by a skilful painter, would be highly touch- 
ing and full of meaning. It were worth one's while to be 
the young king to receive a bride and a new kingdom in this 
way. 

In order to show us all the treasures of the cloister, they 
led us into a cabinet of natural and artificial curiosities. I 
had then but little idea of the value of such things : at that 
time geognosy, which is so commendable in itself, but which 
fritters away the impression produced by the earth's beau- 
tiful surface on the mind's eye, had not begun to entice me, 
still less had a fantastic geology entangled me in its laby- 
rinths. Nevertheless, the monk who acted as our guide 
compelled me to bestow some attention on a fossil, much 
prized as he said by connoisseurs, — a small wild-boar's head 



292 TRUTH AND FICTION 

well preserved in a lump of blue fuller's clay, which, black 
as it was, has dwelt in my imagination ever since. They 
had found it in the country of Rappers wyl, a district which, 
ever since the memory of man, was so full of morasses that 
it could well receive and keep such mummies for posterit} r . 

Far different attractions were presented to me by a copper- 
plate engraving of Martin Schon, which was kept under a 
glass frame, and represented the Assumption of the Virgin. 
True, only a perfect specimen could give an idea of the art 
of such a master ; but then, we are so affected by it, as with 
the perfect in every branch of art, that we cannot get rid of 
the wish to possess something in some way like it, to be able 
constantly to repeat the sight of it, however long a time may 
intervene. Why should I not anticipate and confess here, 
that afterwards I could not rest until I had succeeded in 
obtaining an excellent copy of this plate. 

On the 16th of July, 1775 (for here I find a date first set 
down), we entered upon a toilsome journey; wild, stony 
heights were to be surmounted, and that, too, in a perfect 
solitude and wilderness. At a quarter before eight in the 
evening, we stood before the Schwyzer-Haken, two mountain 
peaks which jut out boldly, side by side, into the sky. For 
the first time we found snow upon our path, where on the 
jagged rocks it had been hanging since the winter. A pri- 
meval forest, with its solemn awe, filled the immense valleys 
into which we were about to descend. Refreshed, after a 
short rest, we sprang, with bold and light step, from cliff to 
cliff, from ledge to ledge, down the precipitous footpath, and 
arrived by ten o'clock at Schwyz. We had become at once 
weary yet cheerful, exhausted yet excited: we eagerly 
quenched our violent thirst, and felt ourselves still more in- 
spired. Imagine the young man who but two years before 
had written " Werther," and his still younger friend who still 
earlier had read that remarkable work in manuscript, and had 
been strangely excited by it, transported, in some respect 
without their knowing it or wishing it, into a state of nature, 
and there, in the consciousness of rich powers, vividly recall- 
ing past passions, clinging to those of the present, shaping 
fruitless plans, rioting through the realm of fancy, and you 
will be able to form some conception of our situation then, 
which I should not know how to describe if it did not stand 
written in my journal, " Laughing and shouting lasted until 
midnight." 

On the morning of the 17th w^ saw the Schwyzer-Haken 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 293 

from our windows. Around these vast and irregular natural 
pyramids, clouds rose upon clouds. At one in the afternoon 
we left Schwyz, on our way to the Rigi : at two we were on 
the Lawerzer lake, the sun shining brilliantly on it and on us 
all the while. For sheer delight we saw nothing. Two stout 
maidens guided the boat : that looked pretty, and we made 
no objection. We arrived upon the island, on which they 
say once lived the former lord of the castle : be this as it 
ma} T , the hut of the anchorite has now planted itself amidst 
the ruins. 

We climbed the Rigi ; at half-past seven we stood at the 
foot of the " Mother of God " covered in snow ; then passed 
the chapel and the nunnery, and rested at the hotel of the 
Ox. 

On the 18th, Sunday morning early, we took a sketch of 
the chapel from the Ox. At twelve we went to Kaltenbad, 
or the fountain of the Three Sisters. By a quarter after two 
we had reached the summit : we found ourselves in the 
clouds, this time doubly disagreeable to us, since they both 
hindered the prospect and drenched us with mist. But when, 
here and there, they opened and showed us, framed as it were 
by their ever-varying outline, a clear, majestic, sun-lit world, 
with the changing scenes of a diorama, we no longer lamented 
these accidents ; for it was a sight we had never seen before 
and should never behold again : and we lingered long in this 
somewhat inconvenient position, to catch, through the chinks 
and crevices of the ever-shifting masses of cloud, some little 
point of sunny earth, some little strip of shore, or pretty 
nook of the lake. 

By eight in the evening we were back again at the door of 
the inn, and refreshed ourselves with baked fish and eggs, 
and plenty of wine. 

As the twilight and the night gradually came on, our ears 
were filled with mysteriously harmonizing sounds, — the tin- 
kling of the chapel bells, the splashing of the fountain, the 
rustling of changeful breezes, with the horns of the foresters 
in the distance : these were blest, soothing, tranquillizing 
moments. 

At half -past six, on the morning of the 19th, first ascend- 
ing, then going down by the Walds tatter Lake, we came to 
Fitznau ; from thence, by water, to Gersau. At noon we 
were in the hotel on the lake. About two o'clock we were 
opposite to Griitli, where the three Tells conspired ; then 

upon the flat rock where the hero sprang from his boat, and 

Goethe— 10 Vol 2 



294 TRUTH AND FICTION 

where the legend of his life and deeds is recorded and im- 
mortalized by a painting. At three we were at Fliielen, 
where he embarked ; and at four in Altorf , where he shot 
the apple. 

Aided by this poetic thread, one winds conveniently through 
the labyrinth of these rocky walls, which, descending perpen- 
dicularly to the water, stand silently before us. They, the 
immovable, stand there as quietly as the side-scenes of a 
theatre: success or failure, joy or sorrow, merely pertain to 
the persons who for the day successively strut upon the 
stage. 

Such reflections, however, were wholly out of the circle of 
the vision of the youths who then looked upon them : what 
had recently passed had been dismissed from their thoughts, 
and the future lay before them as strangely inscrutable as 
the mountain region which they were laboriously penetrating. 

On the 20th we breakfasted at Amstag, where they cooked 
us a savory dinner of baked fish. Here now, on this moun- 
tain ledge, where the Reuss, which was at all times wild 
enough, was rushing from rugged clefts, and dashing the 
cool snow-water over the rocky channels, I could not help 
enjoying the longed-for opportunity, and refreshing myself 
in the foaming waves. 

At three o'clock we proceeded onwards : a row of sump- 
ter horses went before us ; we marched with them over a 
broad mass of snow, and did not learn till afterwards that 
it was hollow underneath. The snows of winter, that had 
deposited themselves here in a mountain gorge, which at 
other seasons it was necessary to skirt circuitously, now 
furnished us with a shorter and more direct road. But the 
waters which forced their way beneath had gradually under- 
mined the snowy mass, and the mild summer had melted 
more and more of the lower side of the vault ; so that now, 
like a broad, arched bridge, it formed a natural connection 
between the opposite sides. We convinced ourselves of this 
strange freak of nature by venturing more than half way 
down into the broader part of the gorge. As we kept as- 
cending, we left pine forests in the chasm, through which 
the Reuss from time to time appeared, foaming and dashing 
over rocky precipices. 

At half -past seven we arrived at Wasen, where, to render 
palatable the red, heavy, sour Lombardy wine, we were 
forced to have recourse to water, and to supply, by a great 
deal of sugar, the ingredient which nature had refused to 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 295 

elaborate in the grape. The landlord showed us some beau- 
tiful crystals ; but I had at that time so little interest in 
the study of nature and such specimens, that I did not care 
to burden myself with these mountain products, however 
cheaply they might be bought. 

On the 21st, at half-past six, we were still ascending ; the 
rocks grew more and more stupendous and awful ; the path 
to the Teufelstein (Devil's Stone), from which we were to 
gain a view of the Devil's Bridge, was still more difficult. 
My companion being disposed for a rest, proposed to me to 
sketch the most important views. My outlines were, per- 
haps, tolerably successful : but nothing seemed to stand 
out, nothing to retire into the distance ; for such objects I 
had no language. We toiled on farther : the horrors of the 
wilderness seemed continually to deepen, plains became hills 
and hollows chasms. And so my guide conducted me to the 
cave of Ursern, through which I walked in somewhat of an 
ill humor : what we had seen thus far was, at any rate, sub- 
lime ; this darkness took every thing away. 

But the roguish guide anticipated the joyful astonishment 
which would overwhelm me on my egress. There the mode- 
rately foaming stream wound mildly through a level vale 
surrounded by mountains, but wide enough to invite habita- 
tion. Above the clean little village of Ursern and its church, 
which stood opposite to us on a level plot, rose a pine grove, 
which was held sacred because it protected the inhabitants 
at its foot from the rolling of the avalanches. Here we en- 
joyed the sight of long-missed vegetation. The meadows of 
the valley, just beginning to look green, were adorned along 
the river side with short willows. The tranquillity was great : 
upon the level paths we felt our powers revive again, and my 
fellow-traveller was not a little proud of the surprise which 
he had so skilfully contrived. 

The meadows produce the celebrated Ursern cheese ; and 
the youthful travellers, high in spirits, pronounced very 
tolerable wine not to be surpassed, in order to heighten their 
enjoyment, and to give a more fantastic impulse to their pro- 
jects. 

On the 22d, at half-past three, we left our quarters, that 
from the smooth Ursern valley we might enter upon the 
stony valley of Liviner. Here, too, we at once missed all 
vegetation : nothing was to be seen or heard but naked or 
mossy rocks covered with snow, fitful gusts blowing the 
clouds backwards and forwards, the rustling of waterfalls, 



296 TRUTH AND FICTION 

the tinkling of sumpter-horses in the depth of solitude, where 
we saw none coming and none departing. It did not cost 
the imagination much to see dragons' nests in the clefts. 
But, nevertheless, we felt inspired and elevated by one of 
the most beautiful and picturesque waterfalls, sublimely 
various in all its rocky steps, which, being at this time of 
the year enriched by melted snows, and now half hidden 
by the clouds, now half revealed, chained us for some time 
to the spot. 

Finally, we came to little mist-lakes, as I might call them, 
since they were scarcely to be distinguished from the atmos- 
pheric streaks. Before long, a building loomed towards us 
out of the vapor : it was the Hospice, and we felt great sat- 
isfaction at the thoughts of sheltering ourselves under its 
hospitable roof. 



NINETEENTH BOOK. 



Announced by the low barking of a little dog which ran 
out to meet us, we were cordially received at the door by an 
elderly but active female. She apologized for the absence 
of the Pater, who had gone to Milan, but was expected home 
that evening ; and immediately, without any more words, set 
to work to provide for our comfort and wants. We were 
shown into a warm and spacious room, where bread, cheese, 
and some passable wine, were set before us, with the promise 
of a more substantial meal for our supper. The surprise of 
the day was now talked over ; and my friend was not a little 
proud that all had gone off so well, and that we had passed 
a day the impressions of which neither poetry nor prose could 
ever reproduce. 

At length with the twilight, which did not here come on 
till late, the venerable father entered the room, greeted his 
guests with dignity but in a friendly and cordial manner, and 
in a few words ordered the cook to pay all possible attention 
to our wishes. When we expressed the wonder we could not 
repress, that he could like to pass his life up here, in the 
midst of such a perfect wilderness, out of the reach of all 
society, he assured us that society w r as never wanting, as our 
own welcome visit might testify. A lively trade, he told us, 
was kept up between Italy and Germany. This continual 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 297 

traffic brought him into relation with the first mercantile 
houses. He often went down to Milan, and also to Lucerne, 
though not so frequently, from which place, however, the 
houses which had charge of the posting on the main route 
frequently sent young people to him, who, here at the point 
of passage between the two countries, required to be made 
acquainted with all the circumstances and events connected 
with such affairs. 

Amid such varied conversation the evening passed away ; 
and we slept a quiet night on somewhat short sleeping-places, 
fastened to the wall, and more like shelves than bedsteads. 

Rising early, I soon found myself under the open sky, but 
in a narrow space surrounded by tall mountain tops. I sat 
down upon the footpath which led to Italy, and attempted, 
after the manner of dilettanti, to draw what could not be 
drawn, still less make a picture ; namely, the nearest moun- 
tain tops, whose sides, with their white furrows and black 
ridges, w r ere gradually made visible by the melting of the 
snow. Nevertheless, that fruitless effort has impressed the 
image indelibly on my memory. 

My companion stepped briskly up to me, and began, 
"What say you of the story of our spiritual host last 
evening? Have not you, as well as myself, felt a desire to 
descend from this dragon's height into those charming 
regions below? A ramble through these gorges must be 
glorious and not very toilsome ; and, when it ends with 
Belli nzona, what a pleasure that must be ! The words of 
the good father have again brought a living image before 
my soul of the isles of the Lago Maggiore. We have heard 
and seen so much of them since Keyssler's travels, that I 
cannot resist the temptation.' ' 

"Is it not so with you too?" he resumed: "you are 
sitting on exactly the right spot ; I stood there once, but 
had not the courage to jump down. You can go on without 
ceremony, wait for me at Airolo : I will follow with the 
courier when I have taken leave of the good father, and 
settled every thing." 

"Such an enterprise," I replied, " so suddenly under- 
taken, does not suit me." — "What's the use of deliber- 
ating so much? " cried he : "we have money enough to get 
to Milan, where we shall find credit ; through our fair, I 
know more than one mercantile friend there." He grew 
still more urgent. "Go!" said I, "and make all ready 
for the departure: then we will decide." 



298 TRUTH AND FICTION 

In such moments it seems to me as if a juan feels no 
resolution in himself, but is rather governed and determined 
by earlier impressions. Lombardy and Italy lay before me, 
altogether foreign land ; while Germany, as a well-known 
clear home, full of friendly, domestic scenes, and where, 
let me confess it, — was that which had so long entirely 
enchained me, and on which my existence was centred, 
remained even now the most indispensable element, beyond 
the limits of which I felt afraid to step. A little golden 
heart, which, in my happiest hours, I had received from her, 
still hung love- warmed about my neck, suspended by the 
same ribbon to which she had tied it. Snatching it from 
my bosom, I loaded it with kisses. This incident gave rise 
to a poem, which I here insert : — 

Thou, of joy that died away, the token, 

Which as yet I on my neck am wearing, 

Longer hold'st us twain, than mental tie that's broken. 

Art thou the length of love's short days repairing ? 

Flee I, Lilli, from thee! Must still, tied to thy fetter, 

Like unto a debtor, 

Roam in strange lands, through vales and forests darting! 

Ah ! not so soon could this my heart from 

My Lilli' s heart be parting. 

Like a bird that erst did break his string, 

And to the wood returns, 

He drags of his prison the disgrace, 

Still some bit of the string on his trace ; 

No longer the old bird, once born with freedom's wing; 

Has been a slave where'er he turns. 

— Editor's Version. 

Seeing my friend with the guide, who carried our knapsack, 
come storming up the heights, I rose hastily, and removed 
from the precipice, where I had been watching his return, 
lest he should drag me down into the abyss with him. I 
also saluted the pious father, and turned, without saying a 
word, to the path by which we had come. My friend fol- 
lowed me, somewhat hesitating, and, in spite of his love and 
attachment to me, kept for a long time at a distance behind, 
till at last a glorious waterfall brought us again together 
for the rest of our journey ; and what had been once de- 
cided was from henceforth looked upon as the wisest and 
the best. 

Of our descent I will only remark that we now found the 
snow-bridge, over which we had securely travelled with a 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 299 

heavy laden train a few days before, all fallen in, and that 
now, as we had to make a circuit round the opened thicket, 
we were filled with astonishment and admiration by the 
colossal fragments of that piece of natural architecture. 

My friend could not quite get over his disappointment at 
not returning into Italy : very likely he had thought of the 
plan some time before, and with amiable cunning had hoped 
to surprise me on the spot. On this account our return did 
not proceed so merrily as our advance ; but I was occupied 
all the more constantly on my silent route, with trying to 
fix, at least in its more comprehensible and characteristic 
details, that sense of the sublime and vast, which, as time 
advances, usually grows contracted in our minds. 

Not without many both new and renewed emotions and 
reflections did we pass over the remarkable heights about 
the Vierwaldstatter Lake, on our way to Kiissnacht, where, 
having landed, and pursued our ramble, we had to greet 
Tell's chapel, which lay on our route, and to reflect upon 
that assassination, which, in the eyes of the whole world, is 
so heroical, patriotic, and glorious. So, too, we sailed over 
the Zuger Lake, which we had seen in the distance as we 
looked down from Rigi. In Zug, I only remember some 
painted glass, inserted into the casement of a chamber of 
the inn, not large to be sure, but excellent in its way. Our 
route then led over the Albis into the Sihl valley, where, by 
visiting a young Hanoverian, Von Linclau, who delighted to 
live there in solitude, we sought to mitigate the vexation 
which he had felt some time before in Zurich, at our declin- 
ing the offer of his company not in the most friendly or 
polite manner. The jealous friendship of the worthy Passa- 
vant was really the reason of my rejecting the truly dear 
but inconvenient presence of another. 

But, before we descend again from these glorious heights 
to the lake and to the pleasantly situated city, I must make 
one more remark upon my attempts to carry away some idea 
of the country by drawing and sketching. A habit from 
youth upward of viewing a landscape as a picture, led me, 
whenever I observed any picturesque spot in the natural 
scenery, to try and fix it, and so to preserve a sure memo- 
rial of such moments. But, having hitherto only exercised 
myself on .confined scenes, I soon felt the incompetency of 
my art for such a world. 

The haste I was in at once compelled me to have recourse 
to a singular expedient : scarcely had I noticed an interest- 



300 TRUTH AND FICTION 

ing object, and with light and very sketchy strokes drawn 
the outlines on the paper, than I noted down, in words, the 
particular objects which I had no time to catch and fill up 
with the pencil, and, by this means, made the scenes so 
thoroughly present to my mind, that every locality, when- 
ever I afterwards wanted it for a poem or a story, floated at 
once before me, and was entirely at my command. 

On returning to Zurich, I found the Stolbergs were gone : 
their stay in this city had been cut short in a singular 
manner. 

It must be confessed that travellers, upon removing to a 
distance from the restraints of home, are only too apt to 
think they are stepping, not only into an unknown, but into a 
perfectly free, world, — a delusion which it was the more easy 
to indulge in at this time, as there was not as yet any pass- 
ports to be examined by the police, or any tolls and such 
like checks and hinderances on the liberty of travellers, to 
remind men that abroad they are subject to still worse and 
more painful restraints than at home. 

If the reader will only bear in mind this decided tendency 
to realize the freedom of nature, he will be able to pardon 
the young spirits who regarded Switzerland as the very place 
in which to "idyllize" the fresh independence of youth. 
The tender poems of Gessner, as well as his charming 
sketches, seemed decidedly to justify this expectation. 

In fact, bathing in wide waters seems to be one of the 
best qualifications for expressing such poetic talents. Upon 
our journey thus far, such natural exercises had not seemed 
exactly suitable to modern customs ; and we had, in some 
degree, abstained from them. But, in Switzerland, the 
sight of the cool stream — flowing, running, rushing, then 
gathering on the plain, and gradually spreading out to a 
lake — presented a temptation that was not to be resisted. 
I cannot deny that I joined my companions in bathing in the 
clear lake ; but we chose a spot far enough, as we supposed, 
from all human eyes. But naked bodies shine a good way, 
and whoever chanced to see us doubtless took offence. 

The good, innocent youths who thought it nowise shocking 
to see themselves half naked, like poetic shepherds, or 
entirely naked, like heathen deities, were admonished by 
their friends to leave off all such practices. They were 
given to understand that they were living, not in primeval 
nature, but in a land where it was esteemed good and salu- 
tary to adhere to the old institutions and customs, which 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 301 

had been handed down from the Middle Ages. They were 
not disinclined to acknowledge the propriety of all this, es- 
pecially as the appeal was made to the Middle Ages, which 
to them seemed venerable as a second nature. Accord- 
ingly, they left the more public lake-shores ; but when, in 
their walks through the mountains, they fell in with the 
clear, rustling, refreshing streams, it seemed to them impos- 
sible, in the middle of July, to abstain from the refreshing 
exercise. Thus, on their wide-sweeping walks, they came 
also to the shady vale where the Sihl, streaming behind the 
A Ibis, shoots down to empty itself into the Limmat below 
Zurich. Far from every habitation, and even from all trod- 
den footpaths, they thought there could be no objection 
here to their throwing off their clothes and boldly meeting 
the foaming waves. This was not indeed done without a 
shriek, without a wild shout of joy, excited partly by the 
chill and partly by the satisfaction, by which they thought 
to consecrate these gloomy, wooded rocks into an idyllic 
scene. 

But whether persons previously ill-disposed had crept after 
them, or whether this poetic tumult called forth adversaries 
even in the solitude, cannot be determined. Suffice it to say, 
stone after stone was thrown at them from the motionless 
bushes above, whether by one or more, whether accidentally 
or purposely, they could not tell : however, they thought it 
wisest to renounce the quickening element, and look after 
their clothes. 

No one got hit : they sustained no injury but the moral 
one of surprise and chagrin ; and, full of young life as they 
were, they easily shook off the recollection of this awkward 
affair. 

But the most disagreeable consequences fell upon Lavater, 
who was blamed for having given so friendly a welcome to 
such saucy youths, as even to have arranged walks with 
them, and otherwise to show attention to persons whose 
wild, unbridled, unchristian, and even heathenish, habits, 
had caused so much scandal to a moral and well-regulated 
neighborhood. 

Our clever friend, however, who well knew how to smooth 
over such unpleasant occurrences, contrived to hush up this 
one also ; and, after the departure of these meteoric travel- 
lers, we found, on our return, peace and quiet restored. 

In the fragment of Werther's travels, which has lately been 
reprinted in the sixteenth volume of my works, I have at- 



302 TRUTH AND FICTION 

tempted to describe this contrast of the commendable order 
and legal restraint of Switzerland, with that life of nature 
which youth in its delusions so loudly demands. But as 
people generally are apt to take all that the poet advances 
without reserve for his decided opinions, or even didactic 
censure, so the Swiss were very much offended at the com- 
parison ; and I, therefore, dropped the intended continuation, 
which was to have .represented, more or less in detail, Wer- 
ther's progress up to the epoch of his sorrows, and which, 
therefore, would certainly have been interesting to those who 
wish to study mankind. 

Arrived at Zurich, I devoted my time almost exclusively 
to Lavater, whose hospitality I again made use of. The 
" Physiognomy,' ' with all its portraits and monstrous carica- 
tures, weighed heavily and with an ever-increasing load on 
the shoulders of the worthy man. We arranged all as well 
as we could under the circumstances ; and I promised him, 
on my return home, to continue my assistance. 

I was led to give this promise by a certain youthful un- 
limited confidence in my own quickness of comprehension, 
and still more by a feeling of my readiness of adaptation to 
any subject ; for, in truth, the way in which Lavater dis- 
sected physiognomies was not at all in my vein. The im- 
pression which, at our first meeting, he had made upon me, 
determined, in some degree, my relation to him ; although a 
general wish to oblige, which was alwaj^s strong, joined to 
the light-heartedness of youth, had a great share in all my 
actions, by causing me to see things in a certain twilight 
atmosphere. 

Lavater's mind was altogether an imposing one : in his 
society it was impossible to resist his decided influence ; and 
I had no choice but to submit to it at once, and set to work 
observing foreheads and noses, eyes and mouths, in detail, 
and weighing their relations and proportions. My fellow 
observer did this from necessity, as he had to give a perfect 
account of what he himself had discerned so clearly ; but 
to me it always seemed like a trick, a piece of espionage, to 
attempt to analyze a man into his elements before his face, 
and so to get upon the track of his hidden moral peculiari- 
ties. I had more pleasure in listening to his conversation, 
in which he unveiled himself at will. And yet, I must con- 
fess, I always felt a degree of constraint in Lavater's pres- 
ence ; for while, by his art of physiognomy, he possessed 
himself of our peculiarities, he also made himself, by conver- 



RELATINCx TO MY LIFE. 303 

sation, master of our thoughts, which, with a little sagacity, 
he would easily guess from our variety of phrases. 

He who feels a pregnant synthesis in himself has pecul- 
iarly a right to analyze, since by the outward particulars 
he tests and legitimizes his inward whole. How Lavater 
managed in such cases, a single example will suffice to 
show. 

On Sundays, after the sermon, it was his duty, as an ec- 
clesiastic, to hold the short-handled velvet alms-bag before 
each one who went out, and to bless as he received the pious 
gift. Now, on a certain Sunday, he proposed to himself, 
without looking at the several persons as they dropped in 
their offerings, to observe only their hands, and by them, 
silently, to judge of the forms of their owner. Not only the 
shape of the finger, but its peculiar action in dropping the 
gift, was attentively noted by him ; and he had much to com- 
municate to me on the conclusions he had formed. How 
instructive and exciting must such conversations have been 
to one who also was seeking to qualify himself for a painter 
of men ! 

Often, in my after-life, had I occasion to think of Lavater, 
who was one of the best and worthiest men that I ever formed 
so intimate a relation with. These notices of him that I have 
introduced in this work were accordingly written at various 
times. Following our divergent tendencies, we gradually 
became strangers to each other ; and yet I never could bring 
myself to part with the favorable idea which his worth had 
left upon my mind. In thought, I often brought him before 
me ; and thus arose these leaves, which, as they were written 
without reference to and independently of each other, may 
contain some repetitions, but, it is hoped, no contradictions. 

By his cast of mind, Lavater was a decided realist, and 
knew of nothing ideal except in a moral form : by keeping 
this remark steadily in mind, you will most readily under- 
stand this rare and singular man. 

His " Prospects of Eternity' ' look merely for a continu- 
ance of the present state of existence under easier conditions 
than those which we have now to endure. His "Physiog- 
nomy " rests on the conviction that the sensible corresponds 
throughout with the spiritual, and is not only an evidence 
of it, but indeed its representative. 

The ideals of art found little favor with him, because with 
his sharp look he saw too clearly the impossibility of such 



304 TRUTH AND FICTION 

conceptions ever being embodied in a living organization ; 
and lie therefore banished them into the realm of fable, and 
even of monstrosity. 

His incessant demand for a realization of the ideal gained 
him the reputation of a visionary, although he maintained 
and felt convinced that no man insisted more strongly on the 
actual than he did : accordingly, he never could detect the 
error in his mode of thinking and acting. 

Seldom has there been a man who strove more passionately 
than he did for public recognition, and thus he was particu- 
larly fitted for a teacher ; but, if all his labors tended to the 
intellectual and moral improvement of others, this was by no 
means their ultimate aim. 

To realize the character of Christ was what he had most 
at heart : hence that almost insane zeal of his, to have pic- 
tures of Christ drawn, copied, moulded, one after another ; 
none of which, however, as to be expected, ever satisfied 
him. 

His writings are hard to understand, even now ; for it is 
far from easy to penetrate into his precise meaning. No one 
ever wrote so much of the times, and for the times, as Lava- 
ter : his w r ritings are veritable journals, which, in an especial 
manner, require to be explained by the history of the day ; 
they, moreover, are written in the language of a coterie, 
which one must first acquaint one's self with before we can 
hold communion with them, otherwise many things will ap- 
pear stupid and absurd, even to the most intelligent reader. 
Indeed, objections enough of the kind have been made 
against this author, both in his lifetime and since. 

Thus, for example, with our rage for dramatizing and 
representing under this form all that struck us, and caring 
for no other, we once so warmed his brain with a dramatic 
ardor, that, in his " Pontius Pilate,' ' he labored very hard 
to show that there is no more dramatic work than the Bible, 
and, especially, that the history of Christ's Passion must be 
regarded as the drama of all dramas. 

In this chapter, and, indeed, throughout the work, Lavater 
appears greatly to resemble Father Abraham of Santa Clara ; 
for into this manner every richly gifted mind necessarily falls 
who wishes to work upon his contemporaries. He must 
acquaint himself with existing tendencies and passions, with 
the speech and terminology of the day, and adapt them to 
his ends, in order to approach the mass whom he seeks to 
influence. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 305 

Since Lavater took Christ literally, — as described by the 
Scriptures and by most commentators, — he let this repre- 
sentation serve so far for the supplement of his own being, 
that he ideally incorporated the God-man into his own indi- 
vidual humanity, until he finally was able to imagine himself 
melted into one and united with him, and, indeed, to have 
become the same person. 

This decidedly literal faith had also worked in him a per- 
fect conviction that miracles can be wrought to-day as well 
as heretofore. Accordingly, since in some important and 
trying emergencies of his earlier days, he had, by means of 
earnest and indeed violent prayer, succeeded in procuring an 
instantaneous and favorable turn of the impending calamity, 
no mere cold objections of the reasoning intellect would make 
him for a moment waver in this faith. Penetrated, moreover, 
by the idea of the greatness and excellence of Humanity as 
restored by Christ, and through him destined to a blissful 
immortality, but, at the same time, fully sensible of the mani- 
fold requisitions of man's heart and mind, and of his insati- 
able yearnings after knowledge, and, moreover, feeling in 
himself that desire of expanding himself into the infinite to 
which the starry heavens seem so sensibly to invite us, he 
wrote under these feelings his u Prospects of Eternity," which 
must have appeared a very strange book indeed to the greater 
part of his contemporaries. 

All this striving, however, all wishes, all undertakings, 
were overborne by the genius for physiognomy, which Na- 
ture had bestowed upon him. For as the touchstone, by its 
blackness and peculiar roughness of surface, is eminently 
fitted to distinguish between the metals which are applied to 
it ; so that pure idea of humanity, which Lavater carried with- 
in himself, and that sharp yet delicate gift of observation, 
which at first he exercised from natural impulse occasionally 
only and accidentally, but afterwards with deliberate reflec- 
tion and regularly, qualified him in the highest degree to note 
the peculiarities of individual men, and to understand, dis- 
tinguish, and express them. 

Every talent which rests on a decided natural gift seems, 
from our inability to subordinate either it or its operations to 
any idea, to have something of magic about it. And, in truth, 
Lavater* s insight into the characters of individuals surpassed 
all conception : one was utterly amazed at his remarks, when 
in confidence we were talking of this or that person ; nay, it 
was frightful to live near a man who clearly discerned the 



306 TRUTH AND FICTION 

nicest limits by which nature had been pleased to modify and 
distinguish our various personalities. 

Every one is apt to believe that what he possesses himself 
may be communicated to others ; and so Lavater was not 
content to make use of this great gift for himself alone, but 
insisted that it might be found and called forth in others, — 
nay, that it might even be imparted to the great mass. The 
many dull and malicious misinterpretations, the stupid jests 
in abundance, and detracting railleries, this striking doctrine 
gave rise to, may still be remembered by some men : how- 
ever, it must be owned that the worthy man himself was not 
altogether without blame in the matter. For though a high 
moral sense preserved the unity of his inner being, yet, with 
his manifold labors, he was unable to attain to outward unity, 
since he did not possess the slightest capacity for philosophi- 
cal method, nor for artistic talent. 

He was neither Thinker nor Poet ; indeed, not even an 
orator, in the proper sense of the term. Utterly unable to 
take a comprehensive and methodical view, he nevertheless 
formed an unerring judgment of individual cases ; and these 
he noted down boldly side by side. His great work on physi- 
ognomy is a striking proof and illustration of this. In him- 
self, the idea of the moral or of the sensual man might form 
a whole ; but out of himself he could not represent this idea, 
except practically by individual cases, in the same way as he 
himself had apprehended them in life. 

That very work sadly shows us how, in the commonest 
matter of experience, so sharp-sighted a man may go grop- 
ing about him. For after spending an immense sum, and 
employing every artist and botcher living, he procured at last 
drawings and engravings which were so far without charac- 
ter, that he is obliged in his work to say after each one that 
it is more or less a failure, unmeaning and worthless. True, 
by this means he sharpened his own judgment, and the judg- 
ment of others ; but it also proves that his mental bias led 
him rather to heap up cases of experience, than to draw from 
them any clear and sober principle. For this reason he 
never could come to results, though I often pressed him for 
them. What in later life he confided as such to his friends, 
were none to me ; for they consisted of nothing more than a 
collection of certain lines and features, nay, warts and 
freckles, with which he had seen certain moral, and frequent- 
ly immoral, peculiarities associated. There were certainly 
among them some remarks causing surprise and disgust, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 307 

but they formed no series ; one thing followed another acci- 
dentally ; there was no gradual advance towards any general 
deductions, and no reference to any principles previously 
established. And, indeed, there was just as little of literary 
method or artistic feeling to be found in his other writings, 
which invariably contained passionate and earnest exposi- 
tions of his thoughts and objects, and supplied by the most 
affecting and appropriate instances what they could not ac- 
complish by the general conception. 

The following reflections, as they refer to those circum- 
stances, may be aptly introduced here. 

No one willingly concedes superiority to another, so long 
as he can in any way deny it. Natural gifts of every kind 
can the least be denied ; and yet, by the phraseology common 
in those times, genius was ascribed to the poet alone. But 
another world seemed all at once to rise up : genius was 
looked for in the physician, in the general, in the statesman, 
and before long in all men who thought to make themselves 
eminent either in theory or practice. Zimmermann, especially, 
had advanced these claims. Lavater, by his views of physi- 
ognomy, was compelled to assume a more general distribu- 
tion of mental gifts by nature : the word genius became a 
universal symbol ; and, because men heard it uttered so often, 
they thought that what was meant by it was habitually at 
hand. But then, since every one felt himself justified in de- 
manding genius of others, he finally believed that he also 
must possess it himself. The time was yet far distant 
when it could be affirmed that genius is that power of 
man which, by its deeds and actions, gives laws and rules. 
At this time it was thought to manifest itself only by over- 
stepping existing laws, breaking established rules, and de- 
claring itself . above all restraint. It was, therefore, an 
easy thing to be a genius ; and nothing was more natural 
than that extravagance, both of word and deed, should 
provoke all orderly men to oppose themselves to such a 
monster. 

When anybody rushed into the world on foot, without 
exactly knowing why or whither, it was called a pass of 
genius ; and, when any one undertook an aimless and useless 
absurdity, it was a stroke of genius. Young men, of viva- 
cious and true talents, too often lost themselves in the limit- 
less ; and then older men of understanding, wanting perhaps 
in talent and in soul, found a most malicious gratification in 



308 TRUTH AND FICTION 

exposing to the public gaze their manifold and ludicrous mis- 
carriages. 

For my part, in the development and the expression of my 
own ideas, I perhaps experienced far more hinderance and 
checks from the false co-operation and interference of the 
like-minded, than by the opposition of those whose turn of 
mind was directly contrary to my own. 

With a strange rapidity, .words, epithets, and phrases, 
which have once been cleverly employed to disparage the 
highest intellectual gifts, spread by a sort of mechanical 
repetition among the multitude ; and in a short time they are 
to be heard everywhere, even in common life, and in the 
mouths of the most uneducated ; indeed, before long they 
even creep into dictionaries. In this way the word genius 
had suffered so much from misrepresentation, that it was 
almost desired to banish it entirely from the German 
language. 

And so the Germans, with whom the common voice is more 
apt to prevail than with other nations, would perhaps have 
sacrificed the fairest flower of speech, the word which, though 
apparently foreign, really belongs to every people, had not 
the sense for what is highest and best in man been happily 
restored and solidly established by a profounder philosophy. 

In the preceding pages mention has been frequently made 
of the youthful times of two men whose memory will never 
fade from the history of German literature and morals. At 
this period, however, we came to know them, as it were, 
only by the errors into which they were misled by a false 
maxim which prevailed among their youthful contemporaries. 
Nothing, therefore, can be more proper than with due appre- 
ciation and respect to paint their natural form, their pecul- 
iar individuality, just as it appeared at that time, and as 
their immediate presence exhibited itself to the penetrating 
eye of Lavater. Consequently, since the heavy and expen- 
sive volumes of the great work on ph} T siognomy are probably 
accessible to a few only of our readers, I have no scruple in 
inserting here the remarkable passages of that work which 
refer to both the Stolbergs in the second part, and its thir- 
tieth fragment, p. 224 : — 

"The young men, whose portraits and profiles we have 
here before us, are the first men who ever sat and stood to 
me for physiognomical description, as another would sit to a 
painter for his portrait. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 309 

" I knew them before, the noble ones — and I made 
the first attempt, in accordance with nature and with all 
my previous knowledge, to observe and to describe their 
character. 

u Here is the description of the whole man : — 

"first, of the younger. 

" See the blooming youth of twenty- five ! The lightly 
floating, buoyant, elastic creature ! It does not lie, it does 
not stand, it does not lean, it does not fly : it floats or 
swims. Too full of life to rest, too supple to stand firm, 
too heavy and too weak to fly. 

" A floating thing, then, which does not touch the earth ! 
In its whole contour not a single slack line, but, on the 
other hand, no straight one, no tense one, none firmly 
arched or stiffly curved ; no sharp-entering angles, ho rock- 
like projection of the brow ; no hardness ; no stiffness ; no 
defiant roughness ; no threatening insolence ; no iron will — 
all is elastic, winning, but nothing iron ; no steadfast and 
searching profundity ; no slow reflection or prudent thought- 
fulness ; nowhere the reasoner with the scales held firmly in 
the one hand, and the sword in the other ; and yet not the 
least formality in look or judgment ! But still the most 
perfect straightforwardness of intellect, or rather the most 
immaculate sentiment of truth ! Always the inward feeler, 
never the deep thinker ; never the discoverer, the testing 
unf older of truth so quickly seen, so quickly known, so 
quickly loved, and quickly grasped. . . . Perpetual soarer, 
a seer ; idealizer ; beautifier ; — that gives a shape and form 
to all his ideas ! Ever the half-intoxicated poet, seeing 
only what he will see ; — not the sorrowfully languishing ; 
not the sternly crushing ; but the lofty, noble, powerful ! 
Who with ' thirst for the sun ' (Sonnendurst) , hovers to and 
fro in the regions of air, strives aloft, and again — sinks 
not to earth ! but throws himself headlong to earth, bather 
in the floods of the ' Rock-stream' (Felsenstrom) , and cradles 
himself c in the thunder of the echoing rocks around ' (7m 
Donner der hallenden Felsen umher) . His glance — not the 
fire-glance of the eagle. His brow and nose — not the cour- 
age of the lion ! His breast — not the steadfastness of the 
steed that neighs for battle ! In the whole, however, there 
is much of the tearing activity of the elephant. . . . 

" The projecting upper lip slightly drawn up towards the 
overhanging nose, which is neither sharply cut nor angular, 



310 TRUTH AND FICTION 

evinces, with such a closing of the mouth, much taste and 
sensibility ; while the lower part of the face bespeaks much 
sensuality, indolence, and thoughtlessness. The whole out- 
line of the profile shows openness, honesty, humanity, but 
at the same time a liability to be led astray, and a high de- 
gree of that good-hearted indiscretion which injures no one 
but himself. The middle line of the mouth bespeaks, in its 
repose, a downright, planless, weak, good-natured disposi- 
tion ; when in motion, a tender, finely feeling, exceedingly 
susceptible, benevolent, noble man. In the arch of the 
eyelids, and in the glance of the eyes, there sits not Homer, 
but the deepest, most thorough, and most quick, feeling, and 
comprehension of Homer ; not the epic, but the lyric, poet ; 
genius, which fuses, moulds, creates, glorifies, hovers, trans- 
forms all into a heroic form — which deifies all. The half- 
closed eyelids, from such an arch, indicate the keenly sensi- 
tive poet, rather than the slowly laboring artist, who creates 
after a plan ; the whimsical rather than the severe. The full 
face of the youth is much more taking and attractive than 
the somewhat too loose, too protracted, half -face ; the fore- 
part of the face, in its slightest motion, tells of a highly sen- 
sitive, thoughtful, inventive, untaught, inward goodness, of 
a softly tremulous, wrong- abhorring love of liberty — an 
eager vivachYy. It cannot conceal from the commonest ob- 
server the slightest impression which it receives for the 
moment, or adopts forever. Every object, which nearly 
concerns or interests him, drives the blood into the cheeks 
and nose ; where honor is concerned, the most maidenly 
blush of shame spreads like lightning over the delicately 
sensitive skin. 

" The complexion is not the pale one of all-creating,' all- 
consuming genius ; not the wildly glowing one of the con- 
temptuous destroyer ; not the milk-white one of the blond ; 
not the olive one of the strong and hardy ; not the brownish 
one of the slowly plodding peasant ; but the white, the red, 
and the violet, running one into another, and so expressively, 
and so happily, blended together like the strength and weak- 
ness of the whole character. The soul of the whole and of 
each single feature is freedom, and elastic activity, which 
springs forth easily and is as easily repulsed. The whole 
fore-face, and the way the head is carried, promise mag- 
nanimity and upright cheerfulness. Incorruptible sensibil- 
ity, delicacy of taste, purity of mind, goodness and nobleness 
of soul, active power, a feeling of strength and of weakness, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 311 

shine out so transparently through the whole face, that what 
were otherwise a lively self-complacency dissolves itself into 
a noble modesty ; and most artlessly and unconstrainedly the 
natural pride and vanity of youth melt with the loveliness 
of twilight into the easy majesty of the whole man. The 
whitish hair, the length and awkwardness of form, the softness 
and lightness of step, the hesitating gait, the flatness of the 
breast, the fair, un furrowed brow, and various other features, 
spread over the whole man a certain feminine air, by which 
the inward quickness of action is moderated, and every inten- 
tional offence and every meanness made forever impossible 
to the heart ; but at the same time clearly evincing that the 
spirited and fiery poet, with all his unaffected thirst for free- 
dom and for emancipation, is neither destined to be a man 
of business, thoroughly persistent, who steadily and resolutely 
carries out his plans, or to become immortal in the bloody 
strife. And now, in conclusion, I remark, for the first time, 
that I have as yet said nothing of the most striking trait, — 
the noble simplicity, free from all affectation ! Nothing of 
his childlike openness of heart ! Nothing of the entire 
unconsciousness of his outward nobility ! Nothing of the 
inexpressible bonliommie with which he accepts and bears 
reproaches or warnings, nay, even accusations and wrongful 
charges. 

" But who can find an end, who will undertake to tell all 
that he sees or feels in a good man, in whom there is so much 
pure humanity ? 

"description of the elder stolberg. 

' * What I have said of the younger brother — how much of 
it may be said also of the elder ! The principal thing I have 
to remark is the following : — 

' c This figure and this character are more compact and less 
diffuse than the former. There all w r as longer or flatter ; 
here all is shorter, broader, more arched, and rounded : there 
all was vague ; here every thing is more precise and sharply 
defined. So the brow ; so the nose ; so the breast : more 
compressed, more active, less diffuse, more of concentrated 
life and power ! For the rest, the same amiableness and 
bonliommie! Not that striking openness, rather more of 
reserve, but in principle, or rather in deed, the same honora- 
ble tone. The same invincible abhorrence of injustice and 
baseness ; the same irreconcilable hatred of all that is called 
cunning and trickery ; the same unyielding opposition to 



312 TRUTH AND FICTION 

tyranny and despotism ; the same pure, incorruptible sensi- 
bility to all that is noble and great and good ; the same 
need of friendship and of freedom ; the same sensitiveness 
and noble thirst for glory ; the same catholicity of heart for 
all good, wise, sincere, and energetic men, renowned or unre- 
nowned, known or misunderstood, — and the same light- 
hearted inconsiderateness. No! not exactly the same. The 
face is sharper, more contracted, firmer ; has more inward, 
self-developing capacity for business and practical counsels ; 
more of enterprising spirit — which is shown especially by 
the strongly prominent and fully rounded bones of the eye- 
sockets. Not the all-blending, rich, pure, lofty poet's feeling 
— not the ease and rapidity of the productive power which 
marks the other — but yet he is, and that in profounder depths, 
vivacious, upright, ardent. Not the airy genius of light float- 
ing away in the morning red of heaven, and fashioning huge 
shapes therein — but more of inward power, though perhaps 
less of expression ! more powerful and terrible — less of 
elegance and finish ; though his pencil, nevertheless, wants 
neither coloring nor enchantment. More wit and riotous 
humor ; droll satire ; brow, nose, look — all so downward, so 
overhanging — decidedly what it should be for original and 
all-enlivening wit, which does not gather from without, but 
brings forth from within. Above all, in this character every 
trait more prominent, more angular, more aggressive, more 
storming ! No passive dulness, no relaxation, except in the 
sunken eyes, where, as well as in the brow and nose, pleasure 
evidently sits. In all besides — and even in this very brow, 
this concentration of all — in this look indeed — there is an 
unmistakable expression of natural, unacquired greatness ; 
strength, impetuosity of manliness ; constancy, simplicity, 
precision ! ' ' 

After having in Darmstadt conceded to Merck the justice of 
his opinions, and allowed him to triumph, in his having pre- 
dicted my speedy separation from these gay companions, I 
found myself again in Frankfort, well received by every one, 
including my father ; although the latter could not conceal his 
disappointment that I had not descended by the pass to 
Airolo, and announced to him from Milan my arrival in Italy. 
All this was expressed by his silence rather than by his words ; 
but above all he did not show the slightest sympathy with 
those wild rocks, those lakes of mist, and dragons' nests. 

At last, however, by an incidental remark, by no means 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 313 

intended for a reproach, he gave me to understand how little 
all such sights were worth : lie who has not seen Naples, he 
observed, has lived to no end. 

On my return I did not, 1 could not, avoid seeing Lilli : the 
position we maintained towards each other was tender and 
considerate. I was informed that they had fully convinced 
her, in my absence, that she must break off her intimacy with 
me, and thrj! this was the more necessary, and indeed more 
practicable, since, by my journey and voluntary absence, I 
had given a sufficiently clear intimation of my own intentions. 
Nevertheless, the same localities in town and country, the 
same friends, confidentially acquainted with all the past, could 
scarcely be seen without emotion by either of us — still and 
forever lovers, although drawn apart in a mysterious way. 
It was an accursed state, which in a certain sense resembled 
Hades, or the meeting of the happy with the unhappy dead. 

There were moments when departed days seemed to revive, 
but instantly vanished again, like ghosts. 

Some kind people had told me in confidence, that Lilli, 
when all the obstacles to our union were laid before her, had 
declared, that for my love she was ready to renounce all 
present ties and advantages, and to go with me to America. 
America was then perhaps, still more than now, the Eldorado 
of all who found themselves crossed in the wishes of the 
moment. 

But the very thing which should have animated my hopes 
depressed them only the more. My handsome paternal house, 
only a few hundred steps from hers, offered certainly a more 
tolerable and more attractive habitation than an uncertain 
and remote locality beyond the ocean ; still. I do not deny, 
that in her presence all hopes, all wishes, sprang to life again, 
and irresolution was stirring within me. 

True, my sister's injunctions were very peremptory and 
precise : not only had she, with all the shrewd penetration 
of which she was mistress, explained the situation of things 
to me, but she had also, with painfully cogent letters, harped 
upon the same text still more powerfully. "It were very 
well," said she, " if you could not help it: then you would 
have to put up with it ; such things one must suffer but not 
choose." Some months passed away in this most miserable 
of all conditions ; every circumstance had conspired against 
the union ; in her alone I felt, I knew, lay the power which 
could have overcome every difficulty. 

Both lovers, conscious of their position, avoided all soli- 



314 TRUTH AND FICTION 

tary interviews ; but, in company, they could not help meet- 
ing in the usual formal way. It was now that I had to 
undergo the hardest trial, as every noble and feeling soul 
will acknowledge, when I shall have explained myself more 

fully-. 

It is generally allowed, that in a new acquaintance, in the 
formation of a new attachment, the lover gladly draws a veil 
over the past. Growing affection troubles itself about no 
antecedents ; and as it springs up like genius, with the 
rapidity of lightning, it knows nothing either of past or 
future. It is true, my closer intimacy with Lilli had begun 
by her telling me the story of her early youth : how, from a 
child up, she had excited in many both a liking and devotion 
to herself, especially in strangers visiting her father's gay 
and lively house, and how she had found her pleasure in all 
this, though it had been attended with no further conse- 
quences, and had led to no permanent tie. 

True, lovers consider all they have felt before only as 
preparation for their present bliss, only as the foundation on 
which the structure of their future life is to be reared. Past 
attachments seem like spectres of the night, which glide 
away before the break of day. 

But what occurred ! The fair came on, and with it ap- 
peared the whole swarm of those spectres in their reality : all 
the mercantile friends of the eminent house came one by one ; 
and it was soon manifest, that not a man among them was 
willing or able wholly to give up a certain claim to the lovely 
daughter. The younger ones, without being obtrusive, still 
seemed to claim the rights of familiar friends ; the middle- 
aged, with a certain obliging dignity, like those who seek to 
make themselves beloved, and who, in all probability, might 
come forward with higher claims. There were fine men 
among them, with the additional recommendation of a sub- 
stantial fortune. 

The older gentlemen, with their uncle's ways and manners, 
were altogether intolerable : they could not bridle their hands, 
and, in the midst of their disagreeable twaddle, would de- 
mand a kiss, for which the cheek was not refused. It was 
so natural to her, gracefully to satisfy ever}^ one. The con- 
versation, too, excited many a painful remembrance. Allu- 
sion was constantly made to pleasure-parties by water and 
by land, to perils of all kinds with their happy escapes, to 
balls and evening promenades, to the amusement afforded 
by ridiculous wooers, and to whatever could excite an un- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 315 

• 

comfortable jealousy in the heart of an inconsolable lover, 
who had, as it were, for a long time drawn to himself the 
sum of so many years. But, amid all this crowd and gayety, 
she did not push aside her friend ; and, when she turned to 
him, she contrived, in a few words, to express all the tender- 
ness which seemed allowable to their present position. 

But let us turn from this torture, of which the memory 
even is almost intolerable, to poesy, which afforded, at least, 
an intellectual and heartfelt alleviation of my sufferings. 

11 Lilli's Menagerie " belongs somewhere to this period : I 
do not adduce the poem here, because it does not reveal the 
softer sentiment, but seeks only, with genial earnestness, to 
exaggerate the disagreeable, and, by comical and provoking 
images, to change renunciation into despair. 

The following song expresses rather the sweeter side of 
that misery, and on that account is here inserted : — 

O sweet roses, ye are going ! 

For my love ye did not grow ; 
For a sad heart ye were blowing, 

Which did hope no longer know. 

Of those days I think with weeping, 

When I, angel, clung to thee, 
To my garden went out, peeping 

Early, first small buds to see. 

Every fruit and every flower 

Still was laying at thy feet; 
Hope not yet had lost all power, 

At thy sight in me did beat. 

O sweet roses, ye are going! 

For my love ye did not grow ; 
For a sad heart ye were blowing, 

Which did hope no longer know. 

— Editor's Version. 

The opera of u Erwin and Elvira " was suggested by the 
pretty little romaunt or ballad introduced by Goldsmith in his 
61 Vicar of Wakefield," which had given us so much pleasure 
in our happiest days, when we never dreamed that a similar 
fate awaited us. 

I have already introduced some of the poetical productions 
of this epoch, and I only wish they had all been preserved. 
A never-failing excitement in the happy season of love, 
heightened by the beginning of care, gave birth to songs, 
which, throughout, expressed no overstrained emotion, but 



316 TRUTH AND FICTION 

always the sincere feeling of the moment. From social songs 
for festivals, down to the most trifling of presentation -verses, 
all was living and real, and what a refined company had 
sympathized in ; first glad, then sorrowful, till, finally, there 
was no height of bliss, no depth of woe, to which a strain 
was not devoted. 

All these internal feelings and outward doings, so far as 
they were likely to vex and pain my father, were, by my 
mother's bustling prudence, skilfully kept from him. Al- 
though his hope of seeing me lead into his house that first 
one (who had so fully realized his ideas of a daughter-in-law) 
had died away, still this u state-lady," as he used to call her 
in his confidential conversations with his wife, would never 
suit him. 

Nevertheless, he let matters take their course, and dili- 
gently occupied himself with his little Chancery. The young 
juristic friend, as well as the dexterous amanuensis, gained 
continually more and more of influence under his firm hand. 
As the absentee was now no longer missed there, they let me 
take my own way, and sought to establish themselves firmly 
upon a ground on which I was not destined to thrive. 

Fortunately, my own tendencies corresponded with the 
sentiments and wishes of my father. He had so great an idea 
of my poetic talents, and felt so personal a pleasure in the 
applause which my earliest efforts had obtained, that he often 
talked to me on the subject of new and further attempts. 
On the other hand, I did not venture to communicate to him 
any of these social effusions and poems of passion. 

As, in " Gotz von Berlichingen, ,, I had, in my own way, 
mirrored forth the image of an important epoch of the world, 
I now again carefully looked round for another crisis in po- 
litical history of similar interest. Accordingly, the Revolt 
of the Netherlands attracted my attention. In Gotz I had 
depicted a man of parts and energy, sinking under the delu- 
sion, that in times of anarchy, ability, and honesty of pur- 
pose, must have their weight and influence. The design of 
Egmont was to show that the most firmly established institu- 
tions cannot maintain themselves against a powerful and 
shrewdly calculating Despotism. I had talked so earnestly 
with my father about what the play ought to be, and wiiat I 
wanted to do, that it inspired him with an invincible desire 
to see the plan which I had already worked out in my head, 
fairly set down on paper, in order to its being printed and 
admired. 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 317 

In earlier times, while I still hoped to gain Lilli's hand, I 
had applied myself with the utmost diligence to the study 
and practice of legal business ; but now I sought to fill the 
fearful gulf which separated me from her, with occupations 
of more intellect and soul. I therefore set to work in earnest 
with the composition of "Egmont." Unlike the first, "Gotz 
von Berlichingen," however, it was not written in succession 
and in order; but, immediately after the first introduction, I 
went at once to the main scenes, without troubling myself 
about the various connecting links. I made rapid progress, 
because my father, knowing my fitful way of working, spurred 
me on (literally and without exaggeration) day and night, 
and seemed to believe that the plan, so easily conceived, 
might as easily be executed. 



TWENTIETH BOOK. 



And so I got on rapidly with my u Egmont ; " and, while 
I found in this some alleviation of my wounded passion, the 
society of a clever artist also helped me through many weari- 
some hours. And thus, as had often before been the case, a 
vague desire of practical improvement brought me a secret 
peace of mind at a time when it could scarcely be hoped for. 

John Melchior Kraus, who had been born at Frankfort, 
but educated in Paris, having just returned from a short 
tour to the north of Germany, paid me a visit ; and I imme- 
diately felt an impulse and a need to attach myself to him. 
He was a cheerful, merry fellow, whose light, joyous disposi- 
tion had found its right sphere in Paris. 

At that time Paris promised a pleasant welcome for Ger- 
mans : Philip Hackert was residing there in credit and opu- 
lence ; the true German style in which, both in oil and 
water-colors, he faithfully executed landscapes after nature, 
met with great favor, as contrasted with the formal " man- 
nerism" into which the French had fallen. Wille, in high 
esteem as a copper-plate engraver, supported and made Ger- 
man excellence more widely known. Grimm, already an 
artist of some influence, rejoiced to help his countrymen. 
Pleasant excursions, in order to take original sketches from 
nature, were constantly undertaken, in which much of un- 
doubted excellence was either executed or designed. 



318 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Boucher and Watteau, both of them artists born, whose 
works, though fluttering in the style and spirit of the time, 
were always highly respectable, were favorably inclined to 
the new school, and even took an active part in their excur- 
sions, though only for the sake of amusement and experi- 
ment. Greuze, living quietly by himself in his family circle, 
and fond of representing such domestic scenes, seemed 
delighted with his own works, held an honored and eas}' 
pencil. \ 

All these several styles our townsman Kraus was able to 
take up and blend with his own particular talent ; he formed 
himself in school after school, and was skilful in his portrait- 
like delineations of family and friendly gatherings ; equally 
happy was he in his landscape sketches, which cordially com- 
mended themselves to the eye by their clear outlines, mas- 
sive shadows, and agreeable coloring. The inward sense was 
satisfied by a certain naive truth, while the admirer of artistic 
skill was especially pleased with the tact by which he arranged 
and grouped into a picture what he had copied singly from 
nature. 

He was a most agreeable companion ; a cheerful equanim- 
ity never failed him ; obliging without obsequiousness, re- 
served without pride ; he was everywhere at home, every- 
where beloved, the most active, and, at the same time, the 
most manageable, of all mortals. With such talents, and of 
such a disposition, he soon won the favor of the higher cir- 
cles ; but he was especially well received at the castle of the 
Baron von Stein, at Nassau on the Lahn, whose accomplished 
and lovely daughter he assisted in her artistic studies, and in 
many ways enlivened the whole circle. 

Upon the marriage of this excellent lady to the Count von 
Werther, the newly wedded couple took the artist with them 
to Thuringia, where the count possessed a large estate ; and 
thus he got to Weimar. His acquaintance was immediately 
sought, his talents were appreciated — and a wish expressed 
that he would fix his permanent abode there. 

Obliging as he was to everybody, upon his return at this 
time to Frankfort, he stimulated my love of art, which had 
been contented with merely collecting, and to making prac- 
tical essays. The neighborhood of the artist is indispensable 
to the dilettante, for the latter sees all that is wanting in him- 
self supplied by the former : the wishes of the amateur arc 
fulfilled in the artist. 

By a certain natural talent, assisted by practice, I sue- 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 319 

ceeded pretty well in an outline, and I could give the shape 
of all that I saw before me in nature ; but I wanted the pecul- 
iar plastic power, the skilful industry, which lends a body to 
the outline by well-graduated light and shade. My copies 
were rather remote suggestions of the real form, and my fig- 
ures like those light, airy beings in Dante's " Purgatory." 
which, casting no shadow themselves, fled affrighted at the 
shadows of actual bodies. 

Lavatcr's fishing for physiognomical treasures — for so we 
ma}^ well designate the importunate urgency with which he 
called upon all men, not only to observe plrysiognomies, but 
also practically to make, be it artistic or most bungling, 
attempts at copying faces — led me into the habit of taking 
the portraits of all my friends on gray paper, with black and 
white chalk. The likeness was not to be mistaken, but it re- 
quired the hand of mj r artistic friend to make them stand out 
from the dark background. 

In turning over and looking through the rich portfolio of 
drawings which the good Kraus had taken during his travels, 
we had most pleasant talk together when he came to the 
sketches of scenes and persons in and about Weimar. On 
such paintings I, too, was glad to dwell ; and you may ima- 
gine that it must have been flattering to the young man, to see 
in so many pictures only the text which was to lead to a cir- 
cumstantially repeated exclamation, they would be glad to 
see him there ! With much grace he would imitate the dif- 
ferent persons whose portraits he had taken, and imperson- 
ate the greetings and invitations he had received. One very 
successful oil-painting represented the chapel-master, Wolf, 
at the piano, with his wife behind him preparing to sing ; and 
this gave the artist opportunity to assure me, in earnest 
terms, of the warm welcome this worthy pair would "give me. 
Among his sketches were several of the wood and mountain 
scenery around Biirgel. Here an honest forester, more, per- 
haps, to please his pretty daughters than himself, had, by 
means of bridges, railings, and mossy paths, opened pleas- 
ant and sociable walks through the rough masses of rocks, 
thickets, and plantations. In one of these beautiful prome- 
nades he had painted the fair damsels in white dresses, and 
not without their attendant cavaliers. In. one of these you 
immediately recognized Bertuch, whose serious designs upon 
the oldest daughter were openly avowed ; and Kraus was not 
offended if you ventured to rerer a second youth to himself, 
and guessed his growing attachment to the sister. 



320 TRUTH AND FICTION 

Bertuch, as the pupil of Wi eland, had so distinguished 
himself in science and in business, that, already appointed 
private secretary of the duke, he had the best possible pros- 
pects before him. From him we passed to Wieland, and 
talked at length of his rectitude and cheerfulness and kindly 
disposition ; his fine literary and poetical designs were dwelt 
upon, and allusions were made to the influence of the " Mer- 
kur" throughout Germany: many other names of literary, 
political, or social distinction were also mentioned, and, 
among them, Musaeus, Kirms, Berendis, and Ludecus. Of 
women, the wife of Wolf, and a widow Kotzebue with a 
lovely daughter and a bright boy, were, among many others, 
characterized and extolled. Every thing seemed to point to 
a fresh and active life of literature and art. 

And so, by degrees, was exhibited the element which, on 
his return, the young duke was to fashion. His mother and 
guardian had prepared this state of things ; while, as re- 
garded the introduction of more important measures, all that, 
in accordance with the duty of such provisional governments, 
was left to the judgment and decision of the future sover- 
eign. The sad ruin caused by the burning of the palace was 
already looked upon as furnishing occasion for new improve- 
ments. The mines at Ilmenau, which had stopped working, 
but which, it was asserted, might again be made profitable 
by going to the great expense of repairing the deep shaft ; 
the academy at Jena, which was somewhat behind the spirit 
of the age, and was consequently threatened with the loss of 
some of its most able teachers ; and many other matters, — 
roused a noble common interest. Already were looks cast 
around for persons, who, in the upward struggle of Germany, 
might be qualified to further such various designs for good ; 
and the prospect seemed as fresh as the vivacity and energy 
of youth could desire. And if it seemed sad to bring a young 
princess, not to a home of a suitable princely dignity, but to 
a very ordinary dwelling built for quite a different object, 
still such beautifully situated and well contrived country- 
houses as Ettenburg, Belvedere, and other delightful pleasure- 
seats, gave enjoyment for the present, and also a hope that 
the life of nature thus rendered necessary might lead to 
profitable and agreeable occupations. 

In the course of this biography we have circumstantially 
exhibited the child, the boy, the youth, seeking by different 
wa} T s to approach to the Suprasensible, first looking with 
strong inclination to a religion of nature, then clinging with 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 321 

love to a positive one, and, finally, concentrating himself in 
the trial of his own powers, and joyfully giving himself up to 
the general faith. Whilst he wandered to and fro space 
which lay intermediate between the sensible and suprasen- 
sible regions, seeking and looking about him, much came in 
his way which did not appear to belong to either ; and he 
seemed to see, more and more distinctly, that it is better to 
avoid all thought of the immense and incomprehensible. 

He thought he could detect in nature — both animate and 
inanimate, with soul or without soul — something which 
manifests itself only in contradictions, and which, therefore, 
could not be comprehended under any idea, still less under 
one word. It was not godlike, for it seemed unreasonable ; 
not human, for it had no understanding ; nor devilish, for it 
was beneficent ; nor angelic, for it often betrayed a mali- 
cious pleasure. It resembled chance, for it evolved no con- 
sequences : it was like Providence, for it hinted at connection. 
All that limits us it seemed to penetrate ; it seemed to sport 
at will with the necessary elements of our existence ; it con- 
tracted time and expanded space. In the impossible alone 
did it appear to find pleasure, while it rejected the possible 
with contempt. 

To this principle, which seemed to come in between all 
other principles to separate them, and yet to link them 
together, I gave the name of Demoniac, after the example of 
the ancients, and of those who, at any rate, had perceptions 
of the same kind. I tried to screen myself from this fearful 
principle, by taking refuge, according to my usual habits, in 
an imaginary creation. 

Among the parts of history which I had particularly 
studied with some care were the events which have made the 
United Netherlands so famous. I had diligently examined 
the original sources, and had endeavored as far as possi- 
ble to get my facts at first hand, and to bring the whole 
period vividly before my mind's eye. The situations it 
presented appeared to me to be in the highest degree dra- 
matic ; while for a principal figure, around whom the others 
might be grouped with the happiest effect, there was Count 
Egmont, whose greatness as a man and a hero was most 
captivating. 

But for my purpose it was necessary to convert him into 
a character marked by such peculiarities as would grace a 
youth better than a man in years, and an unmarried man 
better than the father of a f amilv ; and one independent 



322 TRUTH AND FICTION 

rather than one who, however freely disposed, is nevertheless 
restrained by the various relations of life. 

Having thus, in my conception of Egmont's character, 
made him youthful, and set him free from all domestic re- 
straints, I ascribed to him unlimited enjoyment of life and its 
pleasures, boundless self-reliance, a gift of drawing all men 
to himself, and consequently also of winning the favor of 
the people, and which, while it inspired a princess with a 
silent, and a young child of nature with an avowed, passion, 
won for him the sympathy of a shrewd statesman, and even 
the loving admiration of the son of his great adversary. 

The personal courage which distinguishes the hero is the 
foundation upon which his whole character rests, the ground 
and soil from which it sprung. He knows no danger, and 
willingly is blind to the greatest when it is close at hand. 
Surrounded by enemies, we may at any rate cut our way 
through them : the meshes of state policy are harder to break 
through. The demoniacal element, which is in play on both 
sides, and in conflict with which the lovely falls while the 
hated triumphs ; and above all the prospect that out of this 
conflict will spring a third element which will answer to the 
wishes of all men, — this perhaps is what has gained for the 
piece (not indeed immediately on its first appearance, but 
later, and at the right time) the favor which it now enjoys. 
Here, therefore, for the sake of many beloved readers, I 
will anticipate myself, and, as I know not whether I shall 
soon have another opportunity, will express a conviction 
which, however, I did not form till a considerable period 
subsequent to that of which I am now writing. 

Although this demoniacal element can manifest itself in 
all corporeal and incorporeal things, and even expresses 
itself most distinctly in animals, yet with man especially has 
it a most wonderful connection, forming in him a power, 
which, if it be not opposed to the moral order of the world, 
nevertheless does often so cross it that one may be regarded 
as the warp and the other as the woof. 

For the phenomena which it gives rise to, there are in- 
numerable names ; for all philosophies and religions have 
tried in prose and poetry to solve this enigma, and to read 
once for all the riddle, an employment which they are wel- 
come to continue. 

But the most fearful manifestation of the demoniacal is 
when it is seen predominating in some individual character. 
During my life I have observed several instances of this, 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 323 

either more closely or remotely. Such persons arc not always 
the most eminent men, either morally or intellectually ; 
and it is seldom that they recommend themselves to our 
affections by goodness of heart : a tremendous energy seems 
to be seated in them ; and they exercise a wonderful power 
over all creatures, and even over the elements ; and, indeed, 
who shall say how much farther such influence may extend ? 
All the moral powers combined are of no avail against them : 
in vain does the more enlightened portion of mankind attempt 
to throw suspicion upon them as deceived if not deceivers, 
— the mass is still drawn on by them. Seldom if ever do 
the great men of an age find their equals among their con- 
temporaries, and they are to be overcome by nothing but by 
the universe itself ; and it is from observation of this fact, 
that the strange but most striking proverb must have risen, 
Nemo contra Deum nisi Deus ipse. 

From these lofty recollections I return to the littleness of 
my own life, for which strange events, clothed at least with 
a demoniacal appearance, were in store. From the summit 
of Mont Gotthard I had turned my back upon Italy, and re- 
turned home ; because I could not make up my mind to go to 
a distance from Lilli. An affection founded on the hope of 
possessing for life one dearly beloved in an intimate and 
cordial union does not die away all at once : on the contrary, 
it is nourished by a consideration of the reasonable desires 
and honest hopes we are conscious of cherishing. 

It is in the nature of the thing, that in such cases the 
maiden is much more ready to restrict herself than the youth. 
To these beautiful children, as descendants of Pandora, is 
granted the enviable, gift to charm, attract, and (more 
through nature and of half-purpose than through design or 
of malice) to gather admirers around them ; and thus, like 
the Magician's Apprentice, the} 7 are often in danger of being 
frightened by the crowd of their adorers. And then at last 
a choice must be made from among them all, one must be 
exclusively preferred, one must carry off the bride. 

And how often does accident determine the choice, and 
sway the mind of her who has to make the selection ! I had 
renounced Lilli from conviction, but love made me suspect 
my own reason. Lilli had taken leave of me with the same 
feelings ; and I had set out on a beautiful tour in order to 
distract my mind, but it had produced the opposite effect. 

As long as I was absent, I believed in the separation, but 
did not believe in the renunciation. Recollections, hopes, 



324 TRUTH AND FICTION 

and wishes all had free play. Now I came back ; and as the 
re-union of those whose happy love is unopposed is a heaven, 
so the meeting again of two lovers who are kept apart by 
cold calculations of reason is an intolerable purgatory, a 
forecourt of hell. When I again entered the circle in which 
Lilli still moved, all the dissonances which tended to oppose 
our union seemed to have gained double force : when I stood 
once more before her, the conviction that she was lost to me 
fell heavy upon my heart. 

Accordingly I resolved at once on flight ; and under this 
impression there was nothing which I desired more than that 
the young ducal pair of Weimar should come from Carlsruhe 
to Frankfort, in order that, complying with old and new 
invitations, I might follow them to Weimar. Their High- 
nesses had always maintained towards me a gracious and 
confidential manner, for which I on my part returned the 
warmest thanks. My attachment to the duke from the first 
moment I saw him ; my respect for the princess, whom by 
reputation I had so long known ; a desire to render person- 
ally some friendly service to Wieland, whose conduct had been 
so liberal ; and to atone upon the spot for my half -wilful, 
half -unintentional, improprieties, — were motives enough to 
induce and even to force the assent of a youth who now had 
no attachment to detain him. Moreover, from Lilli I must 
fly, whether to the south, where my father's enthusiasm was 
daily depicting to me a most glorious heaven of art and 
nature, or to the north, whither so distinguished a circle of 
eminent men invited me. 

The young princely pair now reached Frankfort on their 
way home. The suite of the Duke of Meiningen was there 
at the same time ; and by him, as well as by the Privy Coun- 
sellor von Diirkheim, who accompanied the young prince, I 
was received in the most friendly manner possible. But 
now, to keep up the fashion of my youth, a strange incident 
was not wanting : a little misunderstanding arose to throw 
me into an incredible but rather laughable perplexity. 

Their Highnesses of Weimar and Meiningen were living in 
the same hotel. I received one day an invitation to dinner. 
My mind was so pre-occupied with the Court of Weimar, 
that I did not think it necessary more particularly to inform 
myself, especially as I had not the presumption to imagine 
that any notice would be taken of me by the Duke of Mein- 
ingen. Accordingly I go in full dress to the " Roman Em- 
perors/' and, making my way to the apartments of the 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 325 

Weimar family, find them empty ; being informed that the 
duke and his suite are with his Highness of Meiningen, I 
betake myself thither, and am kindly received. Supposing 
that this is only a morning visit, or that perhaps the two 
dukes are to dine together, I await the issue. Suddenly, 
however, the Weimar suite sets itself in motion ; and I, of 
course, follow : but, instead of returning to their own apart- 
ments, they go straight down-stairs, and into their chariots ; 
and I am left alone in the street. 

Now, instead of inquiring into the matter, and adroitly 
and prudently seeking some solution of it, I, with my usual 
precipitancy, went straight home, where I found my parents 
at supper. My father shook his head, while my mother 
made every possible excuse for me. In the evening she told 
me in confidence, that, after I had left the table, my father 
had said, that he wondered very much how I, generally acute 
enough, could not see that in that quarter they only wished 
to make a fool of me and to laugh at me. But this did not 
move me ; for meanwhile I had met with Herr von Diirk- 
heim, who, in his mild way, brought me to book with sundry 
graceful and humorous reproaches. I was now awakened 
from my dream, and had an opportunity to express my most 
sincere thanks for the favor intended me contrary to my 
hope and expectation, and to ask forgiveness for my 
blunder. 

After I had on good grounds determined to accept their 
friendly offers, the following arrangement was made. A 
gentleman of the duke's suite, who had staid behind in 
Carlsruhe to wait for a landau which was building in Stras- 
burg, was to be by a certain day in Frankfort ; and I was 
to hold myself in readiness to set off directly with him for 
Weimar. The cheering and gracious farewell with which the 
young sovereigns took their leave of me, the kind behavior 
of the courtiers, made me look forward most anxiously to 
this journey, for which the road seemed so pleasantly to 
smooth itself. 

But here, too, accidents came in to complicate so simple an 
arrangement, which through passionate impatience became 
still more confused, and was almost quite frustrated. Hav- 
ing announced the day of my departure, I had taken leave 
of everybody ; and after packing up in haste my chattels, 
not forgetting my unprinted manuscripts, I waited anxiously 
for the hour which was to bring the aforesaid friend in the 
new landau, and to carry me into a new country and into 

Goethe— 11 Vol 2 



826 TRUTH AND FICTION 

new circumstances. The hour passed, and the day also; 
and since, to avoid a second leave-taking and the being over- 
run with visits, I had given out that I was to depart early in 
the morning, I was obliged to keep close to the house, and 
to my own room, and had thus placed myself in a peculiar 
situation. 

But since solitude and a narrow space were always favora- 
ble to me, and I was now compelled to find some employ- 
ment for these hours, I set to work on my " Egmont," and 
brought it almost to a close. I read over what I wrote to 
my father, who had acquired a peculiar interest in this 
piece, and wished nothing more than to see it finished and in 
print, since he hoped that it would add to his son's reputa- 
tion. He needed something of this sort to keep him quiet, 
and to make him contented ; for he was inclined to make 
very grave comments on the non- arrival of the carriage. 
He maintained that the whole affair was a mere fiction, 
would not believe in any new landau, and pronounced the 
gentleman who staid behind to be a phantom of the air. 
It was, however, only indirectly that he gave me to under- 
stand all this ; but he only tormented himself and my mother 
the more openly, insisting that the whole thing was a mere 
piece of court pleasantry, which they had practised upon me 
in consequence of my former escapades, and, in order to 
sicken and to shame me, had put upon me a disgraceful 
mockery instead of the expected honor. 

As to myself, I held fast to my first faith, and congratu- 
lated myself upon these solitary hours, disturbed by neither 
friends nor strangers, nor by any sort of social distraction. 
I therefore vigorously proceeded with "Egmont," though 
not without inward mortification. And this frame of mind 
may perhaps have benefited the play itself, which, agitated 
by so many passions, could not very well have been written 
by one entirely passionless. 

Thus passed a week, and I know not how many more 
days, when such perfect imprisonment began to prove irk- 
some. Accustomed for many years to live in the open air, 
and to enter into society on the most frank and familiar 
terms, in the neighborhood, too, of one dearly beloved, from 
whom, indeed, I hafl resolved to part, but from whom, so long 
as I was within the circle of her attraction, I found it diffi- 
cult to absent myself, — all this began to make me so uneasj 7 , 
that there was danger lest the interest of my tragedy should 
suffer, and my inventive powers be suspended through my 



RELATING TO MY LITE. 327 

impatience. Already for several evenings I had found it 
impossible to remain at home. Disguised in a large mantle, 
I crept round the city, passing the houses of my friends and 
acquaintances, and not forbearing to walk up to Lilb's win- 
dow. She was living on the ground-floor of a house at I 
corner of the street: the green shades were down, but I 
could easily remark that the lights stood in their usual 
places. • Soon I heard her singing at the piano : it was the 
song, " Why dost draw me thus without resistance ?' ' which I 
had written for her hardly a year before. She seemed to me 
to sing with more expression than ever : I could make out 
every word distinctly, for I had placed my ear as close as 
the convex lattice would permit. After she had finished her 
song, I saw by the shadow which fell upon the curtain that 
she got up and walked backward and forward ; but I tried in 
vain to catch the outline of her lovely person through the 
thick curtains. Nothing but the firm resolve to tear myself 
away, and not to afflict her with my presence, but actually 
to renounce her, and the thought of the strange impression 
which would be made by my re-appearance, could have de- 
termined me to leave so dear a neighborhood. 

Several more days passed ; and my father's suggestion 
seemed daily to become more probable, since not even a 
letter arrived from Carlsruhe to explain the reasons of the 
delay. I was unable to go on with my poetic labors ; and 
now, in the uneasiness with which I was internally distracted, 
my father had the game to himself. He represented to me, 
that it was now too late to change matters, that my trunk 
was packed, and he would give me money and credit to go to 
Italy ; but I must decide quickly. In such a weighty affair, 
I naturally doubted and hesitated. Finally, however, I 
agreed, that if, by a certain hour, neither carriage nor mes- 
sage came, I would set off, directing my steps first of all to 
Heidelberg, and from there over the Alps, not, however, 
going through Switzerland again, but rather taking the route 
through the Grisons, or the Tyrol. 

Strange things indeed must happen, when a planless youth, 
who of himself is so easily misled, is also driven into a false 
step by a passionate error of age. But so it is both with 
youth and the whole of life. It is not till the campaign is 
over that we learn to see through its tactics. In the ordinary 
course of things, such an accident could have been explained 
easily enough; but we are always too ready to conspire 
with error against what is naturally probable, just as we 



328 TRUTH AND FICTION 

shuffle the cards before we deal them round, in order that 
chance may not be deprived of its full share in the game. 
It is precisely thus that the element arises in and upon which 
the demoniacal so loves to work ; and it even sports with us 
the more fearfully, the clearer are the inklings we have of 
its approach. 

The last day for my waiting had arrived, and the next 
morning was fixed for my setting out on my travels ; and 
now I felt extremely anxious to see my friend Passavant 
again, who had just returned from Switzerland, and who 
would really have had cause to be offended if, by keeping 
my plans entirely to myself, I had violated the intimate con- 
fidence which subsisted between us. I therefore sent him 
an anonymous note, requesting a meeting by night at a cer- 
tain spot, where I was the first to arrive enveloped in my 
mantle : but he was not long after me ; and, if he wondered 
at the appointment, he was still more surprised to meet the 
person he did. His joy, however, was equal to his astonish- 
ment : conversation and counsel were not to be thought of ; 
he could only wish me well through my Italian journey, and 
so we parted. The next day I saw myself by good time 
advancing along the mountain-road. 

I had several reasons for going to Heidelberg : one was 
very sensible and prudent, for I had heard that my missing 
Weimar friend must pass through Heidelberg from Carls- 
ruhe ; and so, when we reached the post-house, I left a note 
which was to be handed to a cavalier who should pass 
through in the carriage described : the second reason was 
one of passion, and had reference to my late attachment to 
Lilli. In short, Mademoiselle Delf , who had been the con- 
fidante of our love, and indeed the mediator with our respec- 
tive parents for their approval of our marriage, lived there ; 
and I prized it as the greatest happiness to be able, before I 
left Germany, to talk over those happy times with a worthy, 
patient, and indulgent friend. 

I was well received, and introduced into many families : 
among others, the family of the high warden of the forests, 

Von W , particularly pleased me. The parents were 

dignified and easy in their manners, and one of the daughters 
resembled Frederica. It was just the time of vintage, the 
weather beautiful, and all my Alsatian feelings revived in 
the beautiful valley of the Rhine. At this time, however, 
my experience, both of myself and others, seemed very 
strange : it was as yet quite vague and undigested in my 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 329 

mind, no deliberate judgment upon life had shaped itself 
before me, and whatever sense of the infinite had been 
awakened within me served only to confuse and perplex me 
the more. In society, nevertheless, I was as agreeable and 
entertaining as ever, and possibly even still more so. Here, 
under this free air of heaven, among joyous men, I sought 
again the old sports which never lose their novelty and charm 
for youth. With an earlier and not yet extinguished love in 
my heart, I excited sympathy without seeking it, even 
though it sought no utterance of itself ; and thus I soon be- 
came at home in this circle, and indeed necessary to it ; and 
I forgot that I had resolved, after talking away a couple of 
evenings, to continue my journey. 

Mademoiselle Delf was one of those persons, who, without 
exactly intriguing, always like to have some business in 
hand, and to keep others employed, and to carry through 
some object or other. She had conceived a sincere friend- 
ship for me, and prevailed the more easily on me to prolong 
my visit, as I lived in her house, where she suggested all 
manner of inducements for my stay, and raised all manner 
of obstacles to my journey. When, however, I wanted to 
turn the conversation to Lilli, she was not so well pleased or 
so sympathizing as I had hoped. On the contrary, she said, 
that, under the circumstances, nothing could be wiser than 
our resolution to part, and maintained that one must submit 
to what is unavoidable, banish the impossible from the mind, 
and look around for some new object of interest in life. 
Full of plans as she always was, she had not intended to 
leave this matter to accident, but had already formed a pro- 
ject for my future conduct : from which I clearly saw that 
her recent invitation to Heidelberg had not been so disinter- 
ested as it sounded. 

She reminded me that the Electoral Prince, Charles Theo- 
dore, who had done so much for arts and sciences, was still 
residing at Mannheim, and that as the court was Roman 
Catholic, while the country was Protestant, the latter party 
was extremely anxious to strengthen itself by enlisting the 
services of able and hopeful men. I was now to go, in 
God's name, to Italy, and there mature my views of art : 
meanwhile they would work for me. It would, on my re- 
turn, soon be seen whether the budding affection of Fraulein 

von W had expanded, or had been nipped, and whether 

it would be politic, through an alliance with a respectable 
family, to establish myself and my fortunes in a new home. 



330 TRUTH AND FICTION 

All these {suggestions I did not, to be sure, reject ; but my 
planless nature could not wholly harmonize with the scheming 
spirit of my friend : I was gratified, however, with the kind 
intentions of the moment ; while Lilli's image floated before 
me, waking and dreaming, and mingled with every thing else 
which afforded me pleasure or distraction. But now I sum- 
moned before my soul the serious import of my great project 
of travel ; and I resolved to set myself free, gently and with 
propriety, and in a few days to make known to her my deter- 
mination of taking leave of her, and to continue on my way. 

One night Mademoiselle Delf had gone on until late un- 
folding to me her plans, and all that certain parties were 
disposed to do for me ; and I could not but feel grateful for 
such sentiments, although the scheme of strengthening a 
certain circle, through me and my possible influence at 
court, was manifest enough. It was about one o'clock when 
we separated. I soon fell into a sound sleep ; but before 
very long I was awakened by the horn of a postilion, who was 
stopping and blowing it before the house. Very soon 
Mademoiselle Delf appeared with a light, and a letter in her 
hands, and, coming up to my bedside, she exclaimed, 
" Here's the letter! read and tell me what it says. Surely 
it comes from the Weimar people. If it is an invitation, do 
not follow it, but call to mind our conversation." I asked 
her to give me a light, and leave me for a quarter of an 
hour to myself. She went away very reluctantly. I re- 
mained thinking for some time without opening the letter. 
The express, then, has come from Frankfort, — I know both 
the seal and hand ; the friend, then, has arrived there ; he is 
still true to his invitation, and our own want of faith and in- 
credulity had made us act prematurely. Why could one not 
wait, in a quiet, civilized place, for a man who had been 
announced distinctly, but whose arrival might be delayed by 
so many accidents ? The scales fell from my eyes. All the 
kindness, the graciousness, the confidence, of the past came 
up livingly before me ; and I was almost ashamed of the 
strange, wilful step I had taken. I opened the letter, and 
found all that had happened explained naturally enough. 
My missing guide had waited for the new laudau, which was 
to come from Strasburg, day after day, hour after hour, as 
we had waited for him ; then, for the sake of some business, 
he had gone round by way of Mannheim to Frankfort, and to 
his dismay had not found me there. He sent the hast) 7 letter 
by express, proposing, that now the mistake was explained, 1 



RELATING TO MY LIFE. 

should instantly return, and save him the shame of going to 
Weimar without me. 

Much as my understanding and my feeling inclined me to 
this side, there was still no lack of weighty arguments in 
favor of my new route. My father had laid out for me a 
fine plan of travel, and given me a little library, which 
might prepare me for the scenes I was to visit, and also 
guide me on the spot. In my leisure hours I had had no 
other entertainment than to reflect on it ; and, indeed, during 
my last short journey I had thought of nothing else in the 
coach. Those glorious objects with which, from my youth 
up, I had become acquainted, histories, and all sorts of tales, 
gathered before my soul ; and nothing seemed to me so de- 
sirable as to visit them, while I was parting from Lilli forever. 

As these thoughts passed through my mind, I had dressed, 
and was walking up and down my chamber. My anxious 
hostess entered. " What am I to hope ? " she cried. " Dear- 
est madam, ' ' I answered, fc ' say no more on the subject : I have 
made up my mind to return ; the grounds of that conclusion I 
have well weighed, and to repeat them to you would be wast- 
ing time. A resolution must be taken sooner or later, and 
who should take it but the person whom it most concerns ? ' 

I was moved, and so was she ; and we had an excited 
scene, which I cut short by ordering my servant to engage a 
post-coach. In vain I begged my hostess to calm herself, 
and to turn the mock-departure which I took of the company 
the evening before into a real one ; to consider that it was 
only a temporary visit, a postponement for a short time ; 
that my Italian journey was not given up, and my return 
that way was not precluded. She would listen to nothing, 
and disquieted her friend, already deeply excited, still more. 
The coach was at the door ; every thing was packed, and the 
postilion gave the usual signs of impatience ; I tore myself 
away ; she would not let me go, and, with so much art, brought 
up all the arguments of the present, that finally, impassioned 
and inspired, I shouted out the words of Egmont, — 

" Child! child! no more ! The coursers of time, lashed, 
as it were, by invisible spirits, hurry on the light car of our 
destiny ; and all that we can do is in cool self-possession to 
hold the reins with a firm hand, and to guide the wheels, 
now to the left, now to the right, avoiding a stone here, or a 
precipice there. Whither it is hurrying, who can tell? and 
who, indeed, can remember whence he came? " 



y 



BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY 



3 1197 21379 4875 








WLjr 



L 




- • > 



mi